Second Chance, Final Draft

The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated.

Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful.

"This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers."

I turned off my phone and ignored him completely.

In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published.

People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family.

I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps.

Yet, it didn't matter.

The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine.

Just those ten minutes destroyed me.

The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls.

Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression.

My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel.

In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life.

And then, I opened my eyes again.

I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.

"Your new book already has over 200 thousand subscribers. At this level, you're a shoo-in for this year's Blackwood Novella Prize!"

My editor, Samuel Grant, clapped me on the shoulder.

I snapped back to reality so suddenly that it startled him.

Samuel pointed at my laptop. "Less than ten minutes left. You already set the scheduled release, right?"

I looked at the screen. The timer was filled in.

My hand hovered over the Enter key, but then I jerked it back like I had been burned.

Samuel didn't notice anything off. He checked his watch, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door.

"Everyone in the group chat is waiting. Publish it already. The publisher's got a dinner lined up for us."

"Wait. I need to confirm something first."

I didn't explain. I pulled out my phone and opened Bryan Vega's X page. Three minutes ago, he had posted something, along with a long image.

[Murder on the 13th Floor. Do you know who the killer is?]

I opened the image.

After just a few lines, all the strength drained out of me, and I collapsed back into my chair.

Samuel frowned and walked over, taking the phone from my hand.

A few minutes later, he shouted, "What the hell? This is your novel! The setting, the time period, the main character, it's all the same! Why is Bryan posting your new book?! Did someone at the publisher leak it? Hang on. I'll call and find out right now."

He was already dialing when I let out a hollow laugh and shook my head.

"Before they start mass printing, cancel the physical release."

In my previous life, the moment I published a novel identical to Bryan's, I was branded a plagiarist.

I tried to prove my innocence by sharing everything: my drafts, outlines, and timestamps.

To my surprise, Bryan did the same. The last edit on his document was a full ten minutes ahead of mine.

[Kobi could copy anyone, and he picked Bryan?]

[He even has an outline. Guess plagiarism takes effort.]

[Plagiarists deserve to die! I bet all his past work was ghostwritten. Bryan should sue him into the ground!]

Samuel and the publisher spoke up for me, but people called them accomplices.

At the height of it, my influencer girlfriend, Paige Burton, went live. The same girl who refused to make our relationship public suddenly confessed her love for Bryan on stream and condemned me for plagiarism.

I couldn't believe it.

She was the first person to read my manuscript. Yet she stood there, lying through her teeth, just to defend him.

Her fans followed her lead. They swarmed my accounts, flooding me with abuse.

People around me avoided me as if I were the plague. Friends cut me off completely.

Just like they wanted, I was blacklisted from the industry and expelled from the writers' association. Every adaptation deal I had was shelved indefinitely.

Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression.

My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from Bryan's novel.

In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life.

What I never expected was this second chance.

Since I had been given a way back, I was determined to find out exactly what really happened this time.