"Egon K, oh, not bad at all?"
Ned nodded approvingly, appreciating the neatness.
The vibe wasn't bad either, and it was a name commonly used in German-speaking regions.
"Kind of gives off, like… a mad scientist superhero vibe? Like someone who'd enjoy human experiments—"
"Stop."
And so, the pen name was decided.
Right after, he clicked the submission button on the contest board.
[Egon K. | Science & Fantasy Contest – Submitting Manuscript]
…*Click.*
With a single click, the contest manuscript was sent.
Phew. A mix of relief and exhaustion washed over me at the thought of sending off yet another piece of work.
"Hey, by the way," Ned suddenly said, looking at me with bright, curious eyes.
"What's up with Amber?"
"What do you mean, 'what's up'?"
"Oh, come on, she got your number, didn't she? WhatsApp ID or something? So, she must've contacted you after that."
…Oh, he's talking about what happened a few days ago.
'Honestly, I was pretty thrown off when Amber actually showed up.'
I hadn't expected her to suggest exchanging messenger IDs.
After that, Ned and Adele wouldn't stop pestering me about what happened next.
"It wasn't a big deal."
"What happened, what happened?"
"She just said there's a book we need for a group discussion in class…"
I paused, recalling the conversation we'd had over the messenger.
[Amber_Brown: So, wanna hit the bookstore together this weekend?]
[Amber_Brown: Eugene, you pick the books.]
[Eugene_Kwon: This weekend?]
[Amber_Brown: Yup, 11 a.m., in front of Chestnut Bookstore. OK?]
…How should I put it?
She seemed to assume I'd naturally say yes.
"She asked me to go with her this weekend to pick out some books."
"Kyaa, that's a date invitation!"
"It's not a date, she just asked me to help pick books. And—"
I glanced at Ned and added,
"I told her I couldn't go."
"…What?"
Ned's face turned into one of utter disbelief, like a man who'd just lost his country.
[Eugene_Kwon: Sorry, the weekend's tough for me.]
[Amber_Brown: See you soon… Wait, you can't?]
Sure, the contest manuscript was done, but I still had the Shakespeare anthology work left.
[Eugene_Kwon: The weekend's the only time I have to write.]
[Amber_Brown: Oh.]
[Amber_Brown: Wow, I see.]
Amber seemed a bit flustered—probably hadn't expected to be turned down.
[Eugene_Kwon: It's a shame since you suggested it first.]
[Eugene_Kwon: Let's go to the bookstore together when I have more time later.]
After sending that message,
[Amber_Brown: 😀 Cool, cool! Show me your novel when you're done writing it!]
A lively reply came flying back.
…And so, the messenger chat with Amber wrapped up nicely.
'But why are *you* reacting like this?'
I clicked my tongue at my best friend, who'd turned to stone.
"I've got to write this weekend."
"Sure… but still—"
"The deadline's tight, and revising it is going to take a lot of time—"
"You turned down Amber's date invitation… to go to a bookstore, no less?"
"I told you, it's not a date."
But it seemed like Ned wasn't hearing me.
"Are you kidding? Going to a bookstore together on the weekend isn't a date? When a girl—Amber, of all people—got *your* number?"
"…"
He was genuinely fuming.
"Jealous, stupid jerk…"
"Did you just insult me?"
"You deserve it."
I was about to retort, but the guy looked like he was on the verge of tears…
'What's that?'
Just then, I caught a glimpse of the search history on my laptop, which Ned had been using.
[How to text a girl: 100 examples]
[120 funny text messages for her to send and make her laugh]
[4 ways to impress a girl on WhatsApp]
…
"…"
I was speechless.
"A month from now, huh? Homecoming's coming up. Everyone's already scrambling to find partners…"
Oh, right. Homecoming. That was a thing.
"Amber—*Amber Brown*, of all people…"
Seeing him muttering to himself like that,
'He's kind of pitiful.'
Come to think of it, Ned…
He was still single at thirty-five, wasn't he?
---
Before I knew it, the weekend was creeping up again.
'This week flew by too.'
It felt like just yesterday that I submitted the contest manuscript.
As soon as that was done, I jumped straight into the next task.
Namely—
'Revising the manuscript for *The Confession of Friar Lawrence*.'
Turning a 6-page flash fiction piece into a full short story.
As Shirley McGraw, the editor in charge, had said, it was far from an easy task.
The key here was *how* to expand it.
The most straightforward approach would be to flesh out *The Confession of Friar Lawrence*, which already had a tightly closed ending, with more detail and depth…
'But that feels a bit unsatisfying.'
I'd need to think this over more.
…And right now, Ned's family had come over to our house for dinner, a rare occasion.
"Heh heh, bulgogi marinated by you personally? I'm looking forward to it!"
"Thanks for coming, Joseph."
"Thank me for what? So, how've you been lately? That Korean writer you mentioned introducing last time…"
I could hear Ned chatting with my parents.
"Oh, right, did Eugene tell you? Next week's the open house."
"Yeah, I was planning to go then anyway."
"Heh, it's been a while since I last visited the school."
Open house.
An event where parents are officially invited to tour the school.
Students prepare various performances for the occasion…
'The school paper editorial team said they'd display a special edition of *School Scene*.'
Which meant my story, *The Confession of Friar Lawrence*, would be posted on the school walls too.
'I wonder how Dad will react when he sees it.'
Suddenly, I recalled something my father had said long ago.
'Did you write this to show it to other people?'
'Not just anyone can become a novelist, Kwon Eugene.'
That I shouldn't even dream of it without talent…
Those sharp words still stung my chest when I thought about them.
But deep down, a small part of me quietly hoped.
That maybe Dad would read my work and acknowledge it…
"Hey, Eugene."
Just then, Ned, sitting next to me, nudged me and asked,
"Did you tell them? Oh, or is it still a secret?"
"Hm, well…"
He meant the school paper exhibition.
I hadn't exactly hidden it,
but it'd be a lie to say I didn't want to surprise them.
Catching on to my intentions, Ned grinned.
"Got it, my lips are sealed. …By the way, how's the contest? Still a while until the results?"
Lowering his voice, he asked, and I replied just as quietly,
"About two weeks left."
One week for the preliminary judging, another for the final round—
"Ugh, why am I the one getting nervous?"
Ned was already making a fuss.
"Don't get your hopes up too much."
"What? Why not? I'm 100% sure—"
"No one can guarantee contest results."
Of course, I was confident that *Peter Pan in a Ruined World* was an entertaining and well-written story.
I'd put in my absolute best effort,
but—
'Your best effort doesn't always lead to the best outcome.'
That's just how writing works.
Even a truly great, well-crafted piece can fail to see the light of day if it meets the wrong timing or publisher.
'And contests… they're even more unpredictable.'
Popularity with readers aside,
it all comes down to the judges' tastes and perspectives.
'Still, knowing *Science & Fantasy*, they probably consider mass appeal too.'
But I shouldn't get too greedy or hopeful from the start.
That was my philosophy, honed from years as an editor.
"It's my first shot. If it works out, great. If not, oh well."
"Sure, but… dude, if you don't win, I'll be more pissed off than you."
I chuckled at Ned's claim that he wouldn't let it go even if I did.
"Why you?"
"Because I've read your stuff, man. If that doesn't take first, I'll start doubting the fairness of the judging."
"Pfft, you're exaggerating."
He let out a dramatic groan.
"I told you, didn't I? From now on, the Peter in my head isn't Peter Parker—it's Peter Pan."
I couldn't help but smile at that.
"…That's quite an honor."
That evening,
our two families bonded over conversation.
The bulgogi, marinated by Dad and Kate together, was delicious.
---
After a leisurely weekend, Wednesday rolled around—the day of the open house.
Sangjun and Kate dropped Chloe off at daycare early in the morning and headed to Hillcrest High School.
"I'm excited to see Eugene at school, honey."
Unlike Kate, who'd been buzzing for days, Sangjun felt a bit uneasy.
The main point of the open house was for parents to see their kids' school lives firsthand,
but amidst band performances, sports games, and kids showcasing their talents,
'Eugene… probably doesn't have much going on this year either.'
As a parent, it wasn't exactly thrilling to see your child drifting through school without presence or passion.
Soon after, they arrived at the bustling campus.
"Honey, should we head over there? It's the school paper editorial exhibition."
Sangjun walked with Kate down the clubroom hallway.
The walls were lined with enlarged, framed pages of the school paper.
'The school paper, huh? Brings back memories.'
Recalling his own days in the literary club during high school, Sangjun approached the wall.
Passing a few student articles…
"Oh, look at this! A story written by a student, I think."
[Special Edition Feature | Flash Fiction
*The Confession of Friar Lawrence*]
"The title alone reminds me of *Romeo and Juliet*."
"Let's read it, honey!"
The couple moved along the wall, reading the story.
[To the Esteemed Prince Escalus,
I am Friar Lawrence, in charge of the Verona parish.
Just last week, an incident shook the good citizens of our Verona to their core…]
Barely a sentence or two in, Sangjun was hooked.
'What incredible pull.'
Thanks to the epistolary style,
it felt like Friar Lawrence was confessing everything right before the reader's eyes.
[Yet those two were neither lovers nor betrothed.
They were merely pawns, sacrificed in a scheme crafted for the honor and future of their families…]
As the story unfolded, Sangjun's eyes widened.
'Interpreting *Romeo and Juliet* like this!'
He swallowed dryly, a thought striking him.
'Wait, if this is displayed here… does that mean a Hillcrest student wrote it?'
Hard to believe a high schooler penned this,
Sangjun and Kate were utterly captivated.
"Brilliant!"
Kate, a diehard Shakespeare fan, gasped in awe multiple times.
Sangjun, too, read breathlessly until—
'This… I didn't see this coming at all.'
The twist on the final page made his eyes pop.
"Excuse me, are you Eugene's father?"
Startled by a voice beside him, he turned.
A middle-aged man with a bushy beard and a warm smile stood there.
"I'm Leonard Hines, the English literature teacher."
"Oh, hello. I'm Kwon Sangjun, Eugene's father."
Leonard gazed proudly at the story on the wall.
"Eugene's really something, isn't he?"
"…?"
"When I first read *The Confession of Friar Lawrence*, I was genuinely shocked."
Sangjun puzzled over the sudden mention of his son's name alongside this story's title.
Leonard continued,
"He once casually mentioned during a counseling session that he dreamed of being a writer… but I never imagined he was *this* serious about it."
"Oh, uh… I see."
Leonard faced Sangjun with a grin.
"I haven't brought it up with Eugene yet, but since his parents are here, I'll mention it."
He handed Sangjun and Kate a pamphlet about college admissions.
"The University of Iowa has a special scholarship program for students in their creative writing department."
"Uh…"
"You know Iowa's ranked second nationally for creative writing, right after Brown? They've got all sorts of programs for students with literary talent like Eugene—"
"Wait, hold on, sir. What does this have to do with our Eugene?"
"Huh?"
For a moment, the two men blinked at each other.
Then Leonard belatedly pointed to the author's name tucked in the corner of the page.
"Here, take a look."
[- Eugene Kwon (10th Grade, Hillcrest High School)]
"?!"
Eugene Kwon.
Seeing his son's full name, Sangjun's eyes nearly popped out of his head.