“That… Senior, you’re not coming…?”
“Huh? Who? What?”
Mustering up the courage to finally speak up, but amidst the noisy clamor, it seemed PD Kim across the table hadn’t heard.
“Never mind. Don’t worry about it…”
“Huh? Why is the one who left early the last to arrive?”
PD Kim’s gaze suddenly shifted above Song Hyunsoo’s head.
He tilted his chin up, staring at a spot far above as if scolding someone.
“I went out for a smoke.”
A voice that slid smoothly toward the eardrums.
There was no need to turn around to confirm— it was unmistakably Yoon Jooho.
Yoon Jooho took a seat in the empty chair between Choi Dohoon and Song Hyunsoo.
From his coat wafted a heavy cologne, mingled faintly with the bitter scent of cigarettes.
Back in his clueless teenage years, Hyunsoo had idolized things forbidden to minors.
The school senior who showed up driving a rattling used car that looked like it had run 300,000 kilometers seemed cool, and the older boys smoking behind the neighborhood hills seemed mature.
He’d been naive.
But now, it was as if he’d been thrown back into those days.
Her heart fluttered at the faint smell of cigarettes and expensive, intense cologne clinging to Yoon Jooho, mixed with the chill of the outside air.
These days, far from thinking it was cool, cigarettes were something he couldn’t quit even if he wanted to— a love-hate relationship.
Wait… was this why celebrities smoking had such a bad influence on teenagers?
If so, maybe that wasn’t entirely nonsense.
Their arms were close enough to brush against each other.
If he turned his head just slightly, Yoon Jooho’s face would be right there, 30 centimeters away.
At this distance, the only people who could see his face like this were probably the makeup team and his girlfriend, right?
Sensing his persistent gaze, Yoon Jooho frowned and turned to him.
“What is it?”
“Huh? No, it’s just… your skin is really nice.”
“Seriously, sunbaenim. I’m jealous. You must’ve been born with it.”
From across the table, Shin Hyojin chimed in warmly.
“Born with it? It’s only like this because I work myself to death maintaining it.”
But Yoon Jooho’s reaction was indifferent.
He accepted the soju glass brought by the restaurant staff and added,
“You have to take care of yourself. If you want to keep doing this job while smoking and drinking.”
“Well… that’s true, I guess.”
Shin Hyojin nodded awkwardly in agreement.
Before the meat even arrived, soju and beer were set out, and the drinking began in earnest.
Though this was Hyunsoo’s first proper film, he was already familiar with these kinds of drinking gatherings in the industry.
The amount of alcohol he’d consumed while trying to land roles could probably rival the Han River.
Of course, there was one difference this time.
Now, he was sitting among the lead actors.
“Our actors should each take a drink with the director,” Kim PD said, prompting the actors to hesitantly rise from their seats.
Director Jung Joonhee went around, even to the production and manager tables, personally filling everyone’s first glass.
“It’s a script I’ve worked on for a long time. Thanks to CEO Lee Kyunghyun and PD Kim Yookyung, we’ve finally entered production. Let’s create something memorable together— a great work that’ll last.”
The director raised his glass as if setting an example, and cheers followed.
The actors at the table clinked glasses with each other.
Even Yoon Jooho.
“Wait! Everyone, hold still for a second! The first toast for — let’s take a picture! Actors, look this way, please!”
The youngest member of the production team captured the historic first toast on camera.
From now on, every moment of the film’s production would be recorded by that camera.
Hyunsoo grinned widely, teeth on full display.
he didn’t have to force a smile.
It came naturally, knowing he was rightfully sitting at this table as one of the main cast.
As he lowered his glass after the toast, Hyunsoo turned slightly to drink his soju— a gesture of respect at a table full of seniors.
But at the same time, Yoon Jooho moved his arm.
Having already downed his soju in one go, he reached out to grab some bean sprout salad.
Huh?
In that split second, the soju spilled all over Yoon Jooho’s coat sleeve.
Every last drop, without exception.
Hyunsoo couldn’t even make a sound.
he just stared wide-eyed at the scene of the accident unfolding before her.
“Hyunsoo-ssi, here’s some tissue.”
Shin Hyojin, who had been watching from across the table, quickly handed over a few napkins.
Hyunsoo reflexively snatched them and dabbed at the wet spot.
The dark coat sleeve now had an even darker stain.
It felt like looking at a blot on his own life.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, sunbaenim. I’ve committed a mortal sin.”
Her apology was utterly sincere.
He felt like crying.
Was he really going to die by Yoon Jooho’s hand before even getting to film a single scene?
Was he getting cut from the movie now?
“That looks like the main coat from this season’s runway.”
At Han Jooyoung’s words, Song Hyunsoo’s vision swam.
He had a gut feeling that this coat was from a world-renowned luxury brand.
If it was the main coat from Louis Vuitton’s men’s collection— where Yoon Jooho had been an ambassador for five years— it would have cost at least 10 to 20 million won.
Even if he poured out his entire appearance fee from Dissolve, it might not be enough to cover it.
He was screwed.
He’d already sent the contract money to his grandmother…
“It’s just a coat, though.”
Surprisingly, Yoon Jooho’s voice was calm.
Hyunsoo mustered his courage and lifted his head.
Jooho was staring down at him with icy eyes as he muttered,
“If it had been red wine, I’d have killed you… Well, maybe I’ve just been a little pissed.”
“……”
Hyung, were you about to say, ‘I’d have killed you’…?
“Hyung, I’m really sorry. At least let me pay for the dry cleaning.”
“Forget it.”
“But it looks really expensive…”
As Jooho began taking off the coat with its damp sleeve, his manager, sitting at another table, quickly stepped forward to take it.
Rolling up the sleeve of the knit he was wearing underneath, Jooho picked up his chopsticks and said,
“What am I supposed to do, extort dry cleaning money from my junior?”
“It’s not about the money, I just feel bad.”
“Then drop it, okay, junior? Just buy me a chicken instead.”
Let’s end this conversation here— Jooho’s raised eyebrows made his annoyance clear.
Here it is, the infamous temper.
If only his face matched his pretty words, he’d be a little more likable.
Hyunsoo stole a glance at Jooho’s profile as he picked at the bean sprout side dish before giving up and looking away.
Still, he was grateful Jooho was letting it slide.
From the diagonal seat, PD Kim, who had been nervously watching the situation, seized the perfect moment to slide a plate of meat over to their table.
“Hyojin, do you like skirt steak? They are really good.”
“Yes, I love skirt steak!”
Shin Hyojin, who had also been tense, welcomed the arrival of the meat.
“Don’t mix it with the pork belly, try the skirt steak on its own. We also ordered doenjang jjigae. The cook here has an amazing touch— no idea why this place isn’t more popular.”
“Hyung, pass me the tongs! I’m really good at grilling meat!”
Hyunsoo quickly stepped up, placing the plate Hyojin had received in front of himself.
He saw it as a chance to reset the mood.
“Is that okay? These days, you’re not supposed to make your juniors do this kind of thing.”
Jooyoung chimed in as Hyojin hesitated.
“Stuff like this isn’t about age— it’s about efficiency. Hyojin, are you good at grilling?”
“No.”
“Me neither. People assume if you’re from the States, you’re good at BBQ. But American BBQ and Korean BBQ are kinda different.”
Here we go, Jooyoung’s TMI hellgate is opening again.
Just as Hyunsoo was about to resign himself to it—
“Who’s good at it from the start? If you don’t do it just because you’re bad, you’ll never improve.”
“……”
Yoon Jooho had kicked Jooyoung’s TMI hellgate shut.
The flood of unnecessary details was stopped, but in its place, the atmosphere grew unbearably chilly.
Sensing the tension, Hyunsoo stepped in.
“Come on, grilling meat isn’t that hard. You just lay it out like this and flip it once in a while. I’ll handle it!”
He arranged the fresh, well-marbled skirt steak on the heated grill.
Whether it was because Jooho was beside him or because of the precarious mood, his hands trembled just like during the script reading.
“Wow, the meat looks amazing! This place must be legit!”
He forced his usual easygoing tone, but cold sweat ran down his back.