Chapter 47: Dissolve: His Last Choice

Ignoring the curses, threats, and insults hurled from behind, he bounded up the stairs and burst out of the theater. 

His anger still boiled over as he stomped through the alleys of Daehakro, fuming with every step.

They didn’t have to celebrate, but they could’ve at least let her go with a little grace.

Things had never gone well for him, always stuck at the bottom, always struggling. 

He’d had her fill of pity and consolation, but never once congratulations. 

So maybe, just maybe, he’d unconsciously hoped for it this time.

Because Jung Jin had been genuinely happy for him. 

So had Jungho and Chaeyoung. 

And if that bastard Choi Hongseo had been around, he would’ve been thrilled too, saying something like “Damn, you really made it,” with that dumb grin. 

He would’ve teased him, “Are you crying, huh?” and he’d leap up insisting, “Hell no!”

Of course, she hadn’t expected all that. 

But still—

Even if it burned them up inside, did they really have to react like that just because some younger junior got a lucky break…?

“Aah… No! Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

Trying to hold back the tears, Song Hyunsoo tilted his chin up and blinked rapidly. 

He had never cried watching sad movies or dramas like other people did. 

But this— this fury that always exploded into tears he could never shake it, no matter how hard he tried.

“Fuck that kind of person. They’re not worth a single tear. Get it together!”

In a quiet back alley, he lit a cigarette and tried to calm his breathing.

The article announcing Yoon Jooho’s casting had dropped that morning. 

The PR rep from <Dissolve> had also called Hyunsoo earlier that day.

They’d originally planned to wait until the scandal surrounding Jooho’s parents died down. 

But when the Kang Miyeon scandal suddenly exploded, the agency decided to release the news amid the chaos. 

The rep had spoken as if it were a stroke of luck.

She understood the reasoning, understood their position. 

Still, the whole thing left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She boarded bus 301 at the Marronnier Park stop, heading to Jooho’s place. 

As soon as she slumped into the very back seat, she shoved her earbuds in.

For a while, she just fiddled with her phone, doing nothing in particular.

Why even bother? 

If she knew it would only stress her out, she could’ve just not looked.

She’d always told Choi Hongseo the same thing back when he was drowning in hateful comments. 

Pleaded with him to stop reading them.

And now here she was doing the exact same thing.

She unlocked the screen and typed “Yoon Jooho” into the search bar.

⤷Suddenly making a movie after 30 years of doing nothing??? LOL this is killing me. Got hit with an “artistic fever” or something??

⤷Trying to play tortured artist while forcing his parents out of the company, huh?

⤷Jooho sweetie, your parents only ever let you do dramas for thirty years for a reason. Stop embarrassing yourself and go back to what you were doing lmao

⤷Yoon Jooho really thinks he’s hot shit. Doesn’t know jack about the real world. The moment he cuts ties with his parents, he’s gonna crash and burn. Doesn’t matter if it took thirty years to build his fame, it’ll collapse like a sandcastle in seconds.

Her heart began to pound.

On especially exhausting days, when she drank five or six cups of coffee just to function, her chest would start pounding like it did right before an audition. 

That’s what this felt like.

How could people just dump words like that, with zero thought or restraint?

Because he’s a celebrity? 

Because he makes hundreds of millions? 

That means he just has to sit there and take it while you vomit out your shitty little opinions?

Fuck that. 

Then I guess your boss has every right to abuse you at work too, huh?

What the hell does Jooho’s income have to do with you running your mouth like a total asshole?

To Hyunsoo, they were grotesque—

Like lunatics shitting in the middle of a crowded street, convinced no one could see behind them. 

Cleaning just their faces, putting on a mask of normalcy, pretending they weren’t completely deranged.

Thunk. 

Hyunsoo pressed her temple to the bus window.

Then— 

 Thunk, thunk

She knocked her head against the glass a couple more times.

The student sitting next to her hugged their backpack tightly and subtly slid their butt away in the opposite direction.

You’re right, kid. 

It’s smart to keep your distance right now.

I’m not in my right mind.

■

I’m not sure what state of mind I was in by the time I arrived at Yoon Jooho’s mansion.

I think I sighed with every step I took.

When I came here yesterday, it didn’t feel like this.

I had felt a little disappointed, sure after learning that Yoon Jooho only slept with or dated top-tier celebrities. 

I don’t even know why that disappointed me. 

But still, every time I stood in front of this front door, excitement usually won out.

Today, though, it was complicated.

Part of me wanted to turn around and leave. 

Another part wanted to check if Yoon Jooho was okay.

Those two feelings tangled together in a messy knot.

What if he isn’t okay? 

What if he’s hurt and shaken?

I was afraid to find out how he was doing.

And of all days, it had to be today that Yoon Jooho himself answered the door.

“Sangho hyung’s in the bathroom.”

Yoon Jooho offered the explanation when Song Hyunsoo hesitated after seeing his face.

Unlike his usual loungewear and loose robe, today he was perfectly styled from head to toe.

“Were you out somewhere?”

“Just shopping.”

He gave a short reply and walked ahead, his back just as flawless as the rest of him. 

Honestly, if he’d said he just came home from a photo shoot, I’d have believed it.

He looked so unaffected, my earlier worries seemed almost laughable.

Just like that day when the article about the contents-certified letter from his parents went public.

Even in the practice room, he hadn’t acted any differently.

“You got the call that the script readings are off next week or the week after, right?”

“Yes.”

That was what the PR manager had told me this morning over the phone.

While lighting a candle in the display cabinet, Yoon Jooho said,

“Take next week off from my part-time job, too.”

“Why? We should keep working hard. Just skipping practice because it’s Christmas should we really do that?”

“It’s the year-end, and I’ve got too many places I need to show my face. And now with Christmas next week, there’s no way I can make time. Gotta get those appearances in before the year’s over, or the work might not keep coming next year.”

“Someone at your level doesn’t really need to worry about that.”

After lighting several candles, Yoon Jooho waved the long matchstick to extinguish the flame, tossed it into a box made of marble, and let out a small laugh as he walked toward me.

Black wide-leg pants, a black knit sweater. 

His hands in his pockets, walking casually and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Some kids think popularity alone gets you jobs. But this industry is still just people working with other people.

Let’s say you survive a year or two on popularity alone. 

But new popular kids keep popping up.

There’s a reason some stars shine for a year or two and then vanish.”

Plop.

He sank into a one-person sofa and glanced at Song Hyunsoo’s expression.

“You look gloomy.”

“I’m fine.”

He tilted his head slightly and gave a knowing smile.

“No script reading. Are you sulking because you won’t get to see me?”

“I’m sulking because I won’t get paid.”

At Hyunsoo’s curt reply, he gave a quiet chuckle and picked up the camera on the table.

There really wasn’t anything unusual about him.

No signs of pain. 

No hints of anger.

While Yoon Jooho fiddled with the camera, Manager Bang came in with drinks.

But today, Yoon Jooho got coffee.

As Hyunsoo sipped his tea, he kept sneaking glances at him.

His eyes looked a little bloodshot.

“Did you not sleep well again last night?”

Yoon Jooho looked over with just his eyes.

“Again?”

“Manager Bang mentioned you don’t usually sleep well.”

“Just… like a chronic condition I’ve always lived with.”

He said it as if it were nothing.

“I always leave the TV on when I sleep, too.”

Especially the shows you’re in, sunbae.

“When it’s making noise, it doesn’t feel like I’m alone. It’s comforting, you know?”

Whether that was a good thing or not, it was hard to say. 

Yoon Jooho gave a soundless, brief smile, just tugging at his lips. 

Then he said,

“Only lonely people think that way.”

“Who says?”

“This quack therapist I saw once.”

He got up from the single-seater sofa and, as usual, began setting up the two cameras on their tripods. 

But the one in front of the sofa was angled a little differently than usual. 

It seemed to be pointing toward Song Hyunsoo’s face.

“Scene number 99.”

Scene number 99?

Hyunsoo quickly flipped through the script. 

It was the scene he thought it might be.

“This is… the one between Kang and San. It’s one of the harder ones, too.”

“Exactly why we should rehearse it. Got a problem?”

“If you’d told me ahead of time, I could’ve come prepared.”

“It’s not like it’s your first time rehearsing it, is it?”

“Well, no, but still—”

“You said you’d do the part-time gig if I helped with your acting, remember?”

Without hesitation, Yoon Jooho turned on the red recording light on the camera. 

Instead of sitting beside Hyunsoo, he went back to the single-seater sofa.

It wasn’t a Baek Kang and Lee Sol scene, so there was no need for them to sit close anyway.

S#99. Baek Kang’s Room (Afternoon)

Baek Kang, shirtless, is sitting on a chair, wrapping a bandage around his upper arm.

Lee San, agitated, is pacing frantically around the room.

“I won’t forgive him. Never. That bastard I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll kill him.”

This happens right after a fight between film director Jeon Yoojung and Baek Kang.

Since Kang’s release from prison, his relationship with Lee Sol hasn’t been the same. 

That shift has left San increasingly unstable.

San blames everything on that damn director he’s convinced Jeon Yoojung is the one who ruined it all.

The fight between Kang and Yoojung only intensifies San’s hatred.

“San, you’re being loud. Come help me with this bandage.”

“You should’ve hit him harder. No, screw it maybe I’ll go back and… ”

Baek Kang blocks San as he tries to storm out of the room.

“San, it was just a small argument.”

“But you got hurt!”

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine in a few days. I got emotional too. It was partly my fault.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong! You- you did everything for Noona…”

To calm San down, Kang pulls him into an embrace.

Though, of course, they didn’t need to rehearse that part.

Unfortunately.