Beneath The spotlight

Chapter 46: The Unspoken Rivalry

The rivalry between Phuwin and Pond was the kind that was unspoken but ever-present. It wasn’t that they disliked each other—it was just that they never cared enough to bother with each other. Pond, with his naturally charming, outgoing personality, was the type who could strike up a conversation with anyone. He was always surrounded by friends, social events, and laughs. Phuwin, on the other hand, lived in his own world of silence and solitude. He was quiet, reserved, and focused on his work. The two of them never found the need to interact outside of the bare minimum.

Still, the tension between them was there, like a persistent undercurrent in their interactions. It was never aggressive, never heated—it was simply indifference, a mutual understanding that they didn’t need each other.

Their latest project was a perfect example. The professor had decided to pair them up for an important assignment, something neither of them were thrilled about. Phuwin already knew how it would go—he would do all the heavy lifting, and Pond would probably add some last-minute fluff to make it look more presentable.

And so, the project began, with no more than the bare minimum exchanged between them.

Phuwin sat at the table, surrounded by stacks of notes, a laptop open in front of him, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He was deep into the data, analyzing, calculating. Nothing distracted him—not even the occasional rustling of papers or the soft hum of the room around him.

Pond, on the other hand, was on the couch across the room, idly scrolling through his phone. Every few minutes, he would glance up at Phuwin, observing how absorbed he was in his work, but that was the extent of his involvement. He didn’t mind. In fact, it suited him just fine. He didn’t particularly care to work closely with Phuwin, and he was certain the feeling was mutual.

“You know, you’re really into this, huh?” Pond said nonchalantly, not looking up from his phone.

Phuwin didn’t respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t hear Pond, but he simply didn’t have the energy to indulge in small talk. Instead, he kept his eyes on the screen, calculating the data, adjusting variables.

Pond’s words were like background noise—something that could easily be tuned out. He was sweet, playful, but Phuwin wasn’t in the mood for any of that.

“Hey, Phuwin,” Pond said again, this time with a slight smirk. “What’s it like living in that little bubble of yours? Must be nice to never have to deal with people.”

Phuwin didn’t even flinch. He simply typed away at his laptop, pretending to be even more absorbed in his work. The truth was, Phuwin didn’t care enough to acknowledge Pond’s comment. It was all the same to him—he didn’t need people, didn’t need the noise that came with them.

But Pond wasn’t one to give up so easily. He tossed his phone aside and sat up straight, his expression still cheerful, though a little more curious.

“Seriously, don’t you get lonely in here by yourself all the time?” Pond asked, his voice light but with a hint of genuine interest.

Phuwin glanced at him briefly, then returned to his work. “I’m not lonely. I’m busy,” he said flatly.

Pond laughed lightly, leaning back on the couch again. “You know, it’s okay to admit you want some company now and then.”

“I don’t,” Phuwin replied, not even sparing Pond another glance. “I’m fine.”

It wasn’t that Phuwin was rude—he was simply indifferent. He had no desire to make small talk or pretend to care about something that didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, the assignment would get done, and he wouldn’t need to talk to Pond beyond what was necessary.

Pond, for all his charm and sweetness, seemed to be perfectly content with that. He didn’t need Phuwin’s approval, and he certainly didn’t need to push him to be more sociable. He understood that Phuwin was who he was—someone who valued silence over chatter.

Still, as the hours passed and they worked in their separate worlds, Pond couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to Phuwin than he let on. He didn’t know why, but there was something about Phuwin’s quiet nature that intrigued him. Maybe it was the way he focused on his work with such intensity, or the fact that he didn’t crave attention like everyone else did. Pond liked the challenge of figuring out someone like Phuwin—though he’d never admit it to anyone.

After a while, Pond stood up and walked over to Phuwin’s side of the room, peering over his shoulder at the screen.

“Alright, so you’re obviously almost done,” Pond commented, his tone light and nonchalant. “What do you want me to do? Just add some finishing touches?”

Phuwin looked up briefly, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Just don’t mess it up.”

Pond chuckled, shrugging. “You got it, boss.”

And with that, the tension between them settled back into the usual indifference. Pond went back to the couch, continuing to fiddle with his phone, while Phuwin turned his attention back to the laptop.

The rivalry between them, as it had always been, was built on nothing more than a complete lack of care—Phuwin’s focused detachment and Pond’s cheerful disregard. There was no room for friendship, no room for animosity. They simply existed in the same space, working side by side without ever acknowledging the deeper currents between them.

In the end, Phuwin didn’t care. Pond didn’t care. They were two people who couldn’t be bothered with anything beyond the task at hand. They would finish their project, hand it in, and go back to their separate lives, as they always did.

It wasn’t hatred that kept them apart—it was just apathy. The kind of apathy that made them perfect strangers, even though they had known each other their whole lives.

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