What Does A Cow Say When They're Angry?... Boooooooo

“Ugggggghhhhhhh…”

“What’s wrong?”

I looked to Oliver, my editor, and found him trying to pay attention to the nonsense Yesele was spouting about. Or at least that’s what I’d like to believe.

As for me, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes away and alternate my crossed legs.

“I don’t wanna be here.”

Oliver looked my way.

“Adelaide I know you can’t stand her but just put up with it a little bit longer. You’re about to be called up any second now.”

That was the problem, I didn’t want to be up on the same stage as that copycat. And it made even less sense for her to be invited but since she finally wrote a semi-original light novel, I guess they decided to highlight her on the panel for once.

While that was a big feat for her, she didn’t fit in along with the rest of the authors who were invited. The authors invited on were fantasy authors for light novels. Yesele was the kind of author that would write whatever was trending that week.

“And don’t even try throwing jabs at her. Both of your guys’ fans are starting to catch on-“

“-that we hate each other? That the new ‘upcoming author’ is copying all the work of the other author with each release? Yeah anyone would at this point.”

Oliver sighed a long sigh for my quip.

I sighed too. I’m sure I sounded obnoxious too. I was always trying to show good sportsmanship with other authors. Light novels weren’t necessarily taken as seriously as other works, so it was necessary to maintain good morale with peers.

From the beginning of Yesele’s career however, that was never the case. 

We were pen pals once. Back when I was in grade school, our class had to do a project where we were tasked to write to a student from another school in another state. We were given a simple greeting prompt with the picture of another student. In our letter we wrote about what we liked and what our favorite past times were. Simple kids stuff.

The project became a bit more immersive when I caught myself writing more than one sheet of paper to my pen pal. Eventually, our connection was so strong that Yesele and I begged our teachers to find a way for us to keep our communication going even after the school year ended. After parent confirmation and a few years of emailing, we eventually reached teenage years where we exchanged phone numbers and finally met. Thus officially solidifying our friendship.

Our shared boredom had one common theme, reading. More specifically, comics. Through our long-distance friendship and adolescent angst, we would escape into the world of literary fantasy. Eventually I would share with her my passion for writing. Amateur and embarrassing, but nonetheless my passion. She had been supportive since she loved to dabble in writing herself, so it was an exciting journey for both of us. Or so I believed.

While I would write in forums and make one-shot stories here and there, I would eventually become engrossed in a plot that would be the reason for the end of our friendship.

My first attempt at a web novel, The Labyrinth, The Rose Bush and The Sleeping Prince, would be about three little girls who were in different social standings in the 1400s. They would go on to rule the world via different realms all while preserving their friendship through evil magic and deeds. It was a massive project that involved lots of research and dedication.

Yesele had been very supportive. She was the one to motivate me to sit down and finally write down what I had in mind for a while. Claimed she loved the premise. With each chapter I would share with her, she would tell me of everything she liked or she was confused about. In a way, she was my own little editor. The more I received her praise the more I was contemplating publishing on DayDream, a site we would frequently visit where people wrote their own stories.

During this time, we would meet someone on a fan page forum of a comic we were engrossed in at the time. The comic was going to be receiving a live-adaptation and there was an ongoing contest for who could provide the best vocals for the opening song. He would upload videos of himself playing the guitar and singing. Not the best singer but definitely had something. He was cute. Very dangerously so.

Between Yesele and I, we opened up our internet friendship to the amateur singer. His alias was ‘lemon_boy’. He was popular within the community and gained a following. Yesele and I were just excited that we could have possibly been friends with an aspiring singer.

It probably would have been the case. Had it not been for him trying to take advantage of his female fans. Unfortunately Yesele had been one of them. Despite our close friendship with ‘lemon_boy’ via our internet hobbies, it was clear that Yesele became very fond of him.

Quickly, our conversations became more about him and his music. I’ll admit that we were enamored quite a bit with his aesthetic and the way he carried himself. However, I was always wary of people online and I thought Yesele would have been too. But it would be revealed that they would share a closer friendship than I thought.

I would caution her from getting too attached but I should have known that she was gone at that point. Completely infatuated, it got to a point where I was annoyed at her constant fawning. Although that wasn’t exactly what caused the initial rift.

One random evening, ‘lemon_boy’ would reach out to me to talk about nothing in particular until the conversations took a weird shift in tone. It wasn’t completely unusual for his conversations to be flirty but I always considered him playful for it.

However unlike other times, this time he wasn't pretending to be coy,. Soon the conversation shifted to him thinking I was sweet and pretty. Tried to convince me that I was his type and other nonsense. An observation he said he made while we would video call each other as a group.

Needless to say, all the suspicions I had held regarding him were true. That night I never responded to his message.

‘Have you ever thought about me at night?’

Instead I texted Yesele that same night about his trashy behavior and sent her screenshots of the shady texting. But she never responded. Nor did she respond the next day.

I thought she was angry at me for shattering the image she held of him but I would find out indirectly through unfollows, blocked numbers, and other passive aggressive actions, that she basically traded in a long-term friendship for an internet creep. The details never really became clear for me after that. She simply abandoned our friendship and ignored me for days to come.

Despite trying to desperately reach out and warn her against him, it was as if she never existed.

At that time, I had a setback with my writing. I didn’t have the mind to write while hurt consumed me. Fearful of what the outcome could have been for Yesele, I still tried. Yet no matter how much I tried, there was never an answer. All activity from her stopped.

‘lemon_boy’ would still post however. Disgust and hatred consumed me whenever I would see him mentioned or shared. The indignation I felt as he went about his life while my friendship with Yesele was crushed beneath his feet.

Until Yesele finally posted something. On the front page of DayDream a title popped out at me. Three Little Queens and The Blue Prince.

Never would I have imagined Yesele plagiarizing my story. Almost word for word had been copied save for the names of the characters. All the work I did to create the story that I was so confident in, was there under her name.

When I tried confronting her about it, her only response was the one that she gave me over the past few weeks. Silence.

The story had become a success and was popular for weeks. To see my own story under someone else’s name broke my heart. By Yesele no less.

Ironically enough it was the motivation I needed to take one of the many samples of stories I had written, to make into a short story and unofficially publish it as my ‘debut’ online.

Whether it was the trend or my writing, luck was rooting for me because it had become one of the trending stories on DayDream. The story was basically a throwaway for me. I had thought up the plot over the course of refining my previous stolen work. It was irrelevant and poorly conceptualized. But her betrayal and abandonment was the fuel for me to follow through with my intention from before. To finally publish a work of mine.

And that’s how our digital dance began. Upon finishing the story, she would begin another one herself. With each new story I would work on, Yesele would be right there beside me with a very similar plotline, protagonist, and ending.

It was as if she was trying to outwrite my storytelling. Luckily, and petty enough of myself to say, her stories never came close to my own rankings. This petty rivalry was ridiculous but a part of my burned ego wanted to prove to people that she was a fraud and false.

I would invest myself into my stories, trying to find ways to write different stories with unique characters only to find her works following behind me with each step. It reached the point where it wasn’t about being a better writer but rather, getting her off my back and preventing her from writing something similar that shadowed my own.

Miraculously I was offered a contract with a publishing company after entering a writing contest. Well guess who was also participating? Oh yes, and while Yesele was far from winning, neither was I. However, to my luck I was in the top three. The top three winners were given a shout out. That in turn led the sponsor’s sister company to adapt some of my stories to their mobile apps. Suffice to say, it was the biggest accomplishment for me and proved to me that I was good enough. Many writers began their careers this way, but I had something more to prove.

I progressed in my writing career from there. Yesele hadn’t kept up with her posting but she still updated her profile with new chapters. My writing matured as I explored different genres with my splash of fantasy. Soon enough, apart from my gaming venture I decided to aim for independently publishing my works.

Within the writing community, I would also end up building friendships with some ambitious artists.

Two of them were people I would grow close with. Oliver and Chelsea. Oliver was a review blogger who eventually pursued editing unofficially. Chelsea was an artist who I constantly commissioned to illustrate the my works. Through some internet bonding and awkward meet ups, we eventually became a triple threat.

I would see Yesele take part in writing competitions here and there. By the time I was ready to self-publish, she would end up creating a light novel that would capture the hype behind the trending subgenre at the time. The subgenre of transmigration romance would be what propelled her to be considered as an 'official' author.

From there, almost all novels you would see from Yesele had the same theme or a variation of it. She finally found her niche, you could say. Personally, it was enough to give me peace of mind that she wouldn’t be targeting my writing for her own benefit.

Our little rivalry splintered from there. I would go on to have a more official and professional career while she slowly but surely followed behind.

Which brings us to now. I was invited to a yearly spotlight panel for authors. I’ve had the honor to have been invited three times since self-publishing. This time being my fourth. Seven books under my wing and more than the recognition was the fact that the fans stayed loyal to me. With some very loyal fans calling me the “Queen of Light Novels”, which had honored me immensely. I was far from earning that title.

This year, however, my frenemy Yesele was invited. She had written a light novel with the same theme she had held onto like a chokehold.

As soon as I heard that Yesele had written one, I laughed. Of course she would, she didn’t have one creative bone in her body. 

The difference was that this time, her newest story gained a huge popularity to the point where there were rumors of it receiving an animated adaptation.

Something in that stung. I had wanted that level of achievement but my pride prevented me from admitting it.

“Just make sure to keep your focus on your book when you’re up there. Don’t look at Yesele… at least try not to and be nice!” Oliver hissed the last piece at me cutting into my raging thoughts.

“Now ladies and gents, I wanted to surprise you all with some special guests. In order to celebrate another year of amazing stories from our community, we went ahead and invited a few of our celebrated authors over time to wish Yesele the best on her first spotlight!” A round light engulfed me in its warmth and I knew that was the cue for me to fix my face from a constant state of irritation to one of practiced polite hospitality.

I crinkled my eyes a bit and got up to make my way up the stage along with two other authors.

As I took a seat in the chair they assigned to me, I internally groaned. They had me sitting right beside Yesele. As I looked up, I found Yesele staring right at me with a smile. I semi-froze before quickly sitting down and crossing my body away from her.

(Creepy…)

The questions were simple enough; what led to the inspiration for the novel, how much does it take for us to plan the story and whatnot. Yesele had been taking the lead on answering the questions, as I anticipated she would.

“So this is Yesele’s first time being here at “Pressing Works” and I just wanted to ask our authors if they have had the chance to read Cinderella’s Last Slipper.

(Ugh, what a cornball of a name.)

“I actually did and it was so much fun to read!”

I rolled my eyes slightly enough to not have it detected. It was the least I could do for relief other than dropping the frozen edges of my lips that were digging into my cheeks.

After what felt like unnecessary commentary going round and round about how Yesele’s novel was trailblazing the subgenre trend, they finally came around to my side and began interviewing me about how I felt about Yesele’s story.

I couldn’t necessarily tell them what I truly felt.

“Ms. Adelaide, how about you? Were you able to take a look into Cinderella’s Last Slipper?”

It felt like at that moment every head turned my way. Call me paranoid but Yesele’s sleazy and mocking smile felt like a targeted attack towards me.

“I- uh- actually haven’t.” Yesele blinked at me. She kept a smile that seemed like it was growing stale quickly.

“Really?” The higher pitch in the host seemed to mirror the looks I was getting.

In the distance, my gaze trespassed Oliver’s horrified face.

“Yes, unfortunately I haven’t gotten the chance to read her story but I have heard great reviews about it.”

“Yes, I believe Cinderella’s Last Slipper has become the leading title for the subgenre. I know many authors are dipping their toes in it and with the reception of the readers, I think it’s safe to say that Yesele has set a standard.” The host’s fake niceness paled in comparison to the fatigue behind her eyes.

Here they go again with the praise. Not that I don’t think it to be false, but I think I have had enough with Yesele to care what kind of opinions others have about her.

“I keep hearing. I’m excited to read it. I even have it on my to-read list for this summer!” I flashed a quick smile at the audience.

“I wonder though. Ms. Adelaide’s novels tend to take on more mature topics. Are stories' like Yesele’s something you read at all? I couldn’t really see you write a novel like Yeseles’.” For some reason, the way the host worded the last statement cut into me.

It was the first time I felt myself being compared to Yesele. It was harsh to hear that opinion about me when I’ve always known that Yesele only wrote novels that were similar to mine. She copied my writing and published them, and here I was being compared. I wasn’t sure if it was the tension I had been building up sitting next to Yesele, but I wasn’t liking this anymore.

“Uh- I wouldn’t really say that. I just haven’t had a chance to really delve into that genre. I like to write about things that I find interesting, so I tend to read books that include themes that may not be so well-known or seem as interesting to others. And this subgenre hasn’t exactly captured my interest like those other themes have.” I chuckled nervously.

“Well I’m not really surprised at that. You are becoming a leading author in the fantasy genre. Your novels have been sought after by many and I dare say your name is becoming well-known in general.” 

I chuckled once more sensing awkwardness from the subject next to me.

“Yes, I do try to explore different characters and different scenarios especially if they aren’t the kind of story you see on shelves.”

“It’s definitely what makes you a fresh author. Either way, if you wrote something like this I’m sure it would be a really amazing novel to read. Would you ever entertain the idea?”

Yesele’s stale smile stayed plastered on her face as she turned her head like an owl. Then again the host was much more intrusive and blatant than the past ones. It was evident on Yesele’s face that she wasn’t appreciating the compliments the host gave to me. Her eyes glistened right back at me, waiting for an answer.

Looking back at her, all I could do was think of the reason why I take such pride in my writing no matter how amateur it could be considered. She made the first mark when she decided to debut a story with my words. To have it stolen and plagiarized hurt. Especially when I pour myself into my stories.

I nodded at the hosts’ comments and let out a small laugh. I didn’t want to come off as condescending but I honestly didn’t care anymore. The idea of being next to Yesele and putting a front that I’m okay with her getting this reward irked me. An indie award, but an award regardless because it gave her an ego now.

“Maybe, most likely. I can be very particular about genres that are popular. When I write my stories, I like to find scenarios that I feel no one would think about and dig into them to bring them to the surface.”

“It explains why your stories are used as examples. Your independent work is very beautiful. They read almost like fairy tales.” 

Pride swelled within my chest at her words. It made me happy to hear them from the host, it insinuated that she actually read them and hearing the opinions of my readers always made my day. I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Thank you! I really appreciate your words. Whenever I write I get lost in my thoughts and whenever I read it back I am always transported back into the worlds I created. To hear you feel that way about my writing makes me very happy.”

“Oh I mean it, your stories are such a comfort to read. Everytime I see a new novel from you I’m quick to buy it.” I heard some small agreements run through the room. And as my gaze fell back on Yesele, I could tell that her stale smile became frozen. Seeing her silent defeat gave me instant gratification but as I stared a little too long, a pang of sympathy rang out from within me.

(Oh well, she had it coming.)

“That’s normal for Adelaide though, she does have a way with words.”

“That’s sweet of you all to say. But I’m sure Yesele has a way with words herself.” Yesele sprang her body towards me with wide eyes.

“I do?”

“Yes, I think so. The themes and plots you have within your story are always popular. But for your novel to be trending like it is, must be because your work is truly unique. I’m sure you’ll continue to bless us with your original works like you’ve been doing so and more! ”

I flashed her another smile, solidifying the small glimmer of fire I saw in her eyes.

“I’m glad that Yesele’s works are capable of grabbing Adelaide’s attention, and if we’re lucky enough she might even write her own novel with this subgenre. How great would that be?!” As the host popped the end of that question towards the audience I couldn’t help but retaliate with a big smile at Yesele.

Yesele’s smile dropped at that and she finally directed her gaze just to shoot back a glare. I felt pride bloom in my chest. As Yesele’s profile demonstrated a calm demeanor with a smile, luck had me catching the twitch in her eyebrow. All I could think of was that I wasn’t going to allow her to sabotage me anymore.

. . .

“Look, all I’m saying is that you could have been a little more… how should I say to not piss you off?”

“You mean a little more of a kiss ass?”

“Yeah but like I said, in a way to not piss you off about it, you know.”

“Oh sure of course believe me, I would know!”

I rolled my eyes and huffed at the cold air. I had walked to my apartment after being dropped off by a transportation service. 

“Exactly but you just couldn’t help but say something to bring her down.”

As I entered my building's elevator, my entire body sagged from fatigue.

“I did not go that far.”

Oliver had been lecturing me from when I got in a cab to when I arrived at my apartment. His annoying nasally voice was getting to me and the fact that it seemed as if he was protecting Yesele was not helping.

“No, thankfully you didn’t. You aren’t realizing that your fan bases have been comparing both of your guys’ works for a while now and today would have been the day to dispel rumors.”

“No, no, no… it’s not MY fault my fanbase can see that she’s clearly copying off of me. How is it my fault if she’s the one who keeps copying my writing?”

“You don’t think that her loyal fans aren’t saying the same about you? What I’m saying is that regardless of who is copying who… it doesn’t look good. If you want to be taken seriously as a real author then these petty behaviors cannot be caught in your way.”

I stopped at that.

(‘A real author’.)

“Fine, you’re right.” I sighed. Authors like us weren’t considered ‘real’ authors. Our stories weren’t as ‘professional’ or rather our writing wasn’t. Which was understandable and which is why I hired Oliver, he happened to be someone who wanted to expand his portfolio. Thanks to him, I saw the quality of my writing change for the better.

He even managed to get me to work under an indie publishing house called, Jill’N Attic. They worked with upcoming authors and artists. It was like a dream come true for me to have my work be seen on a broader channel.

“I need you to show good sportsmanship, especially when you’re so close to getting accepted by Barb&Ella. They are interested in you and it would mean a huge breakthrough for both of us! So I need you to put this rivalry aside. It’s petty and childish and quite frankly doesn’t suit your image.”

He was right. Oliver could be blunt and straightforward but there was no doubt he was capable of grounding me. The rivalry Yesele and I have been dragging along would only end up jeopardizing my progress.

Unlocking my door I stepped inside with a purpose to end this discussion.

“Fine, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t think I sounded or came off as hostile-”

“At this rate soon you will, believe me.” His little quip gripped the last neck hairs I had left.

“- but I’ll try to put the grudge aside… just don’t be surprised if I end up firing back at anything she may throw my way.”

As I threw my purse on my coffee table, I noticed a black envelope. I picked it up to turn it around, expecting to find an address but it was completely black.

“Then just make sure to not give her any kind of ammunition to fire in the first place.”

My eyes shot up to the ceiling as I let out a sigh of frustration.

“Fine, fine. Can we just end this discussion? By the way, did you by any chance send me a black envelope? There’s a black envelope on my table but it has no return address.”

“I didn’t send anything. Maybe Chelsea sent it.”

Looking at the envelope, a tingling sensation drilled into my fingers.

“Mmm, I doubt it.”

“You already arrived at your apartment?”

Sighing, I shrugged my shoulders back in a weak attempt to stretch out the muscles there.

“Yes, finally.”

Dropping my weight on my couch I absentmindedly took off my heels.

“Where was the envelope? In your mailbox?”

About to answer with an obvious answer, I mentally checked myself. That’s when I took it in. The envelope wasn’t in my mailbox or by my door.

It was inside my apartment.

My brain took a short circuit at that.

“No….”

“So it was just in your apartment?”

The alarm in Oliver’s voice sent chills down my spine. Despite not wanting to panic I couldn’t help but spring up from my couch.

“Yeah… um, Oliver?”

“What?”

Any exhaustion I could have had flew right off me as panic drenched my neck and shoulders in cold sweat. Quickly turning to survey the room my eyes couldn’t pick up anything different about my apartment.

(I did NOT want to be in the middle of a home invasion. Especially as a single woman.)

But the more I looked around the more I noticed that everything was in place. The only anomaly in the room was the black envelope in my hand. Cold air gripped at my shoulders.

“You think you can come over? J-just in case there’s some kind of home invader or something.” I laughed a little too forcefully, not really disguising the fear manifesting within me.

A pause from Oliver on the other line breached the line between reality and hypotheticals.

“Okay no worries, I’m on my way. Just go down to the lobby and wait for me there.”

“Alright, just hurry please.”

“Don’t worry, be safe.”

Thankfully he wasn’t too far from my apartment. It was a factor in our partnership and made things much easier for me when I was transitioning from living with my parents to living on my own.

As the call ended, my gaze went back to the envelope in my hand. It was sealed but had no return address. Another option could have been that it’s fan mail but who would have gone inside my apartment and left it there?

(Did I have an obsessed fan already?!)

I wasn’t sure whether to even take that as a compliment. Curiosity taking the last cell of intelligence left in me, I went ahead and decided to open it. Making my way to my door, I ripped the seal only to get hit with a whiff of perfume.

The smell of female perfume was so strong that it made me choke up a bit. Slipping out the card within, a big puff of smoke blew up in my face, blinding me momentarily.

“Ack! Holy sh-” As I tried clearing my throat, I heard the voice I had come to loathe.

“Hey best friend.”

Yesele’s voice surrounded me. I tried turning this and that way to try to get a grasp of anything in the smoke but to no avail. My entire apartment was clouded with bright smoke.

“Yesele! What the hell is this? What did you do?!”

“I just tried to get close enough to greet you. It’s been a long time since I was allowed anywhere near you.”

Her voice grated the nerves in me. Exasperation filled my heart at the idea of Yesele going so far as to break into my apartment and assault me.

“Don’t give me that bullshit you crazy broad! And you dare break into my apartment to attack me?!”

“Attack you? I would never!”

“Then what the hell do you call this?!”

“I call this trying to FINALLY have a proper conversation with you in the only way I thought possible. Since you blocked my messages, emails, calls and even my letters, I had to refer to intense means.”

“Oh look who's talking!”

“Mm, you got me there. Still, you think you can put me down on the panel on my first invitation, sabotaging my image?”

(WHAT?!)

“ME?! I’M trying to sabotage YOU?! Ha… you’re psycho. I’ve had to deal with your harassment all this time just because you chose to have a vendetta against ME. Stealing my work and marking it as your own… was that what you felt back then?”

Suddenly a gust of wind pushed against me, deterring me from breathing even further. In the next second I saw Yesele in front of me with her fingers digging into my neck.

“Ah-!”

“Why don’t you just shut up! You just can’t stand that I can keep my pace with you. That we could even be equals. That's why you had to demean me on that panel. You’ll regret making a fool out of me!”

Yesele having the nerve to say that to me made the rage burn brighter within me and I slammed my foot with all I had right on hers.

“Ah!”

“How dare you… telling me… that. I have every damn right…”

I don’t know how but I accumulated enough saliva to spit at Yesele’s face. With all the satisfaction in the world, a big wad landed on her nose and cheek. She wrinkled her face in disgust and gagged.

Serves her right for trying to kill me! If that’s her goal then I’ll claw my way out alive.

“Oh… okay… I see this is going nowhere. You know… I’ll admit it. I loathe that I couldn’t ruin you the way you did me. But I’ll show you. I’ll show you and give you what you always wanted. To live in that fantasy world of yours.”

I tried to keep up as much as I could but I slowly felt myself lose consciousness. A tingling sensation took over my arms and started to spread throughout me.

“W-What are you going to do to me?”

“I’ll do what I always wanted to do… eliminate my competition.”

(What?...)

I couldn’t keep focus anymore as the strong scent of the horrible perfume overtook my senses. The weakness in my limbs brought me down to my knees and my vision blurred.

(No, please… I can’t die like this, not to this lunatic… please… I still… have to… prove…)

My strength and willpower was long gone before I was willing to accept it. My whole world began to fade to black but before I could lose complete consciousness, the last thing I saw was the black envelope near Yesele’s feet.