Chapter 2: Dissolve: His Last Choice

“What’s with the hairstyle? I’ve never seen Yoon Jooho with hair like that. It’s totally got a vibe.”

“Are you seriously fangirling over another guy right in front of me?”

“What ‘other guy’? Yoon Jooho is a celebrity.”

“You’re the one who banned me from liking boy groups.”

“Okay, okay, don’t sulk. Of course you’re way cooler! Honestly, Yoon Jooho is just a vibe parasite.”

The face of Song Hyunsoo, who had been listening to the couple’s conversation, twisted sourly, as if he’d bitten into a bug.

No matter how generously you looked at the man in front of him, he was just average by Korean standards. 

There was no way he was cooler than Yoon Jooho, and calling Yoon Jooho a “vibe parasite” was baseless slander. 

Of course, the girl was probably just saying it to make her boyfriend feel better. 

But still, in this world, there are things you should say and things you shouldn’t…

“Next customer, please.”

After the couple paid for their condoms, it was Hyunsoo’s turn.

“A pack of Marlboro Medium, please.”

While the cashier searched for the cigarettes on the back shelf, Hyunsoo’s gaze drifted toward the fridge on the right. 

Inside, cans of coffee printed with Yoon Jooho’s face were stacked. 

The coffee was selling like hotcakes— less than half remained.

He turned his head to the left.

Inside a round steamer, hot hoppang (steamed buns) were cooking.

Meat, vegetables, pizza, injeolmi, red bean… Which one would be the tastiest?

Beep.

The cashier placed the cigarettes on the counter.

“One pack of Marlboro Medium. That’ll be 4,500 won.”

9,700 won minus 4,500 won leaves… 5,200 won.

“How much is this coffee?”

“2,700 won.”

The pizza hoppang was 1,500 won each, so…

Hyunsoo glanced at the hoppang, then back at the coffee can on the right. 

Left, right. His pupils darted back and forth.

“I’ll take one can of coffee too.”

In the end, Hyunsoo chose Yoon Jooho— no, the coffee— over the hoppang.

The cashier pulled a can from the fridge.

Beep.

“2,700 won.”

The exact moment his check card balance hit 2,500 won.

Hyunsoo lit a cigarette in the smoking area outside the convenience store.

Yeah, a cigarette and a can of coffee. 

This is happiness. 

How much fuller would I really be after one hoppang anyway?

“Oh my god, Yoon Jooho! No way, he’s so freaking hot! What did he do to his hair?!”

Hyunsoo, who had been smoking contentedly, turned toward the commotion. 

A student in uniform had just noticed the poster plastered on the store window and was freaking out. 

It was Yoon Jooho’s new coffee ad.

Her friends, trailing behind, giggled and asked,

“You still like Yoon Jooho?”

“‘Still’? Have you seen anyone hotter than him?”

“What are you talking about? Jung Jin is way more handsome.”

“Nope. My type is Yoon Jooho.”

“But didn’t you say he has a terrible personality?”

“Who cares about his personality? It’s not like I’m actually dating him. Ugh, he’s so perfect. I don’t even need lutein— he’s human lutein.”

The student, who had been rubbing her cheek against the poster, handed her phone to a friend.

“Hey, quick. Take a picture of me with Oppa.”

After snapping a few photos with Yoon Jooho’s poster as the backdrop, they left as noisily as they had arrived.

Hyunsoo exhaled a long stream of smoke and looked at Yoon Jooho in the poster again.

During his break from activities, he’d grown out his hair and added soft waves— a style that suited the sweet coffee ad perfectly. 

No wonder people were making a fuss.

But no matter what anyone said, Hyunsoo believed Yoon Jooho’s greatest charm was his voice.

Forget that coffee. 

From now on, only drink NUBO.

Now, just seeing that photo made his voice echo in his head. 

His ears tingled, and he roughly rubbed them with his palm.

What would it feel like to live a life like that?

Since you were already a star from the age of three, I guess you’ve never had to hop from audition to audition, huh?

You probably never even had to wonder if you could land a minor role, let alone crawl to every drinking party just to show your face until your liver gave out.

And I bet you’ve never had to bow and scrape with a smile, even when some rookie assistant director talked down to you.

A life as a true super-alpha.

As Song Hyunsoo absentmindedly brought a cigarette to his lips, he caught sight of his reflection in the window of a parked sedan.

Wearing a bartender’s uniform under a worn-out jacket, standing next to a lamppost plastered with flyers like “Loans, Private Lending, Debt Collection,” smoking a cigarette— he couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh.

We’re both actors, but the difference is ridiculous. 

It’s not even prince and beggar at this point.

The shortened cigarette tasted harsh and bitter.

The coffee can was already empty.

While drinking it, Yoon Jooho’s coffee had been warm and sweet, but now all that remained was a bitter aftertaste and the cold touch of the aluminum can.

“Maybe I should quit smoking since I don’t even have money.”

Muttering words he didn’t mean, Song Hyunsoo stared for a moment at Yoon Jooho’s face printed on the empty can before tossing it into the trash.

His break was almost over.

Returning to the bar through the back kitchen door, Song Hyunsoo lifted the curtain and stepped behind the counter.

“Break’s over.”

But no one paid him any attention.

“Manager, you go.”

“Me?”

“I’d rather die than go.”

“If there’s staff right here, isn’t it embarrassing for the manager to go personally?”

“What if I die of a heart attack?”

“Jeongho, then you go.”

“Ugh, no. Today’s not my day to look presentable.”

The manager, Chaeyoung, and Jeongho huddled together, whispering and shoving the menu at each other.

After washing his hands and drying them, Song Hyunsoo tied a black apron around his waist and walked over.

“What’s going on?”

When Chaeyoung spotted him, her eyes lit up as if she’d seen a savior.

“Oppa, you go! Here, take the menu.”

Before he could react, she shoved the menu into his hands.

Still confused, Song Hyunsoo turned to look where she was pointing.

Table B-12, the farthest corner seat.

Sitting there was none other than Yoon Jooho.

Song Hyunsoo couldn’t believe his eyes.

What? Why is Yoon Jooho here?

Is this some kind of shoot? Hidden camera?

“Why are celebrities suddenly flocking to our bar? Jung Jin comes sometimes because he is friends with Hyunsoo oppa, but Yoon Jooho out of nowhere?”

“Yoon Hyean is a regular here too.”

“Yoon Hyean only comes once in a blue moon. She’s not a regular.”

Whether Yoon Hyean was a regular or not— the meaningless bickering between Chaeyoung and Jeongho didn’t even register in Song Hyunsoo’s ears.

It felt like he’d heard Yoon Jooho’s name way too often today, but who would’ve thought the man himself would show up at the last moment?

Dressed in a long black coat and a black cap pulled low, but even just the line of his jaw gave him away.

That flawless jawline and sharp nose, paired with those cold, sexy thin lips— a miraculous combination you wouldn’t find anywhere else on earth.

Song Hyunsoo swallowed dryly and adjusted his grip on the menu.

“Are you really going, oppa?”

“So what if he’s a top star? So what if he’s Yoon Jooho? Why should I be intimidated?”

But despite his words, the closer he got to Yoon Jooho’s table, the slower his steps became, his mouth going dry.

Even after stopping at the table, he couldn’t speak.

Yoon Jooho, who had been looking at his phone, noticed his presence and glanced up first.

“What is it?”

The moment their eyes met, Song Hyunsoo thought:

First of all, I take back what I said about being the most handsome in Jessica.

Yoon Jooho is the most handsome in Jessica.

No, scratch that— right now, in Daehakro, no, in Seoul, no, in the entire universe, Yoon Jooho is the most handsome.

“The m-menu, ahem, here’s the menu.”

Whether from nerves or trying too hard to sound composed, his voice cracked.

He wanted to disappear into the ground.

“Even if he’s an unknown, how can an actor fail to deliver even that one short line properly? With this, he’ll do so well in next week’s audition.”

Yoon Jooho, who had been eyeing the self-loathing Song Hyunsoo suspiciously, slid the unopened menu back toward him with those long, neat fingers Hyunsoo had just seen in a commercial.

“Give me a scotch.”

“Which brand would you like?”

“Valen… no, Johnnie Walker.”

“Shall I prepare Blue Label?”

“Double Black. Do you have it?”

“Of course. How would you like it served?”

Was it surprising that this tucked-away bar, devoid of customers, had Double Black in stock? 

Jooho paused briefly, glancing up at Hyunsoo again before ducking his head as if to hide his face and answering in a rushed tone,

“I’ll leave it to you.”

As Hyunsoo took the menu and returned to the bar counter, he felt as if he’d been possessed.

Valen… no, Johnnie Walker. Double Black. Do you have it? I’ll leave it to you.

Every word Yoon Jooho had spoken lingered in his memory as clearly as if they’d been recorded, not a single syllable out of place.

See? I told you— Yoon Jooho’s voice is better than his face. 

People just don’t get it.