Keeping his gaze fixed on the ground, Song Hyunsoo followed wherever Yoon Jooho led.
The large hand resting on the back of his head, the chest pressed tightly against his shoulder, felt as if it was holding him up.
Just like before, when the secret was about to surface and everything was about to shatter.
His touch was clumsy but gentle. Why. Even though you said it was ‘over’… you bastard. You could have at least treated me well at a time like this.
Yoon Jooho guided Song Hyunsoo around the corner of the tavern building.
Only after reaching a back alley where the staff’s eyes couldn’t reach did his hand stroke Hyunsoo’s shoulder a few times before hesitating and pulling away.
They sat side by side on the cement ledge beneath a small window opening into the kitchen. Yoon Jooho offered a pack of cigarettes.
“Calm down with a smoke.”
Though he didn’t really want one, Song Hyunsoo pulled out a cigarette. Embarrassment came late.
“Was my acting really that bad? I didn’t mess up the lines. And that part was supposed to be with tears in the eyes anyway…”
“That’s not the problem.”
“……”
“You were acting seeing me as Yoon Jooho. Not Baek Kang.”
Drawn as if by some force, he turned his head to look at him. Yoon Jooho was looking right back. As if saying, it wasn’t Lee San who was crying, it was you, Song Hyunsoo.
He almost asked how he knew but stopped himself. Surely Song Hyunsoo could tell Baek Kang and Yoon Jooho apart, too.
During the dozens, even hundreds of rehearsals for <Dissolve>, their acting had melded together.
Just by watching the slightest movement of the eyes or the breath escaping between parted lips, they could sense where the other’s acting was flowing.
That feeling of another’s breath and trembling flowing directly into oneself was so special, it was even more fulfilling than when it led to sex.
So there was no way Yoon Jooho hadn’t noticed that Lee San had changed into Song Hyunsoo.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve done better during filming…”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Yoon Jooho, lowering his head onto his thigh and rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly raised his voice.
“Then why did you bring me out?”
It didn’t matter whether it was Lee San or Song Hyunsoo crying — what big deal was that to him?
Yoon Jooho put the cigarette to his lips and said plainly,
“Because you’re my senior.”
“Then you plan to keep doing that? Because I’m your senior?”
What kind of senior would wrap his arms around a junior who’d lost his emotional footing and lead him outside?
Maybe there’s such a senior somewhere in the world, but Yoon Jooho isn’t one of them.
“What’s wrong with that? Did you forget?”
“With what?”
Yoon Jooho stood up, taking another drag. Then standing directly in front of Song Hyunsoo, he cast a shadow over him.
The Moon above his head was half-hidden by layers of clouds.
“You’re still my actor.”
“……”
“For ten years.”
Ha, a hollow laugh slipped between Song Hyunsoo’s lips. Even as he muttered like a stubborn child throwing a tantrum, Yoon Jooho was serious.
『“I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Because they’re not you.”』
Back then, Yoon Jooho didn’t even realize what he was saying. That it meant he didn’t care about anyone else but him — that it was a confession that he couldn’t stop caring about him.
Even now, Yoon Jooho was the same.
Even though he’d lost the position of boyfriend, he was still talking about using the contract as an excuse to get close. Lost?
No, it was ‘over,’ as he’d said with his own mouth.
『Believe me. Yoon Jooho will never give up on Hyunsoo.』
Maybe Seo Hae was right.
Without the heart to give up, maybe he was just wandering around not knowing what to do. But this time, there was no intention to find that cute.
“When you’re ready, come out.”
As Yoon Jooho turned to round the corner, Hyunsoo called out to him.
“Senior.”
Yoon Jooho stopped walking.
“I won’t tell you the answer.”
“……”
“Find it yourself.”
Because otherwise, it wouldn’t mean anything. They’d only end up hurting each other again over the same thing.
Yoon Jooho stared quietly at Song Hyunsoo, bathed in moonlight, as he crushed the cigarette butt into the portable ashtray.
“Well, I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
After two rehearsals, the actual filming began. During rehearsal, both Yoon Jooho and Song Hyunsoo had stuck strictly to the script.
The day they first came to Myeonghaeri alone together. They had become fully Baek Kang and Lee San, acting freely beyond the script.
It was perfect… but neither of them dared bring that up. Like people wanting to bury the past.
“Quiet, please. Preparing to shoot.”
The assistant director’s voice announcing the start of filming silenced the set. Yoon Jooho and Song Hyunsoo waited inside the tavern.
Song Hyunsoo’s fingertips trembled faintly as he touched the sliding door.
“Camera roll.”
The camera began recording.
“Speed.”
Sound recording started immediately after.
“Scene number 93, cut 1, take 1.”
The slate operator clapped the slate, and the assistant director called.
“Action.”
Clack, clatter. Lee San slammed open the sliding door and ran out of the tavern. The camera on rails followed his furious steps with a dolly shot.
Soon after, the sound of the door opening and closing again came from behind Lee San.
“Lee San. Hey, where are you going, man!”
Lee San looked back at Baek Kang with eyes full of resentment.
He shoved Baek Kang’s chest away. Baek Kang grabbed Lee San’s hand, pulling him down while laughing carelessly.
“Why’d you come out after me? You have to keep a close eye on that guy and Nuna, don’t you?”
Sometimes Lee San’s steps led, sometimes Baek Kang’s, as emotions gradually heightened.
Unlike rehearsal, neither wore a padded jacket, just thick sweaters, but they didn’t notice the cold amid the tension and immersion.
Baek Kang tried to ignore the changing feelings of Lee Sol, while Lee San resented Baek Kang and clung obsessively to the three of them.
“Nuna, you couldn’t be reached all day yesterday, right?”
“……”
“You know what I saw?”
“Lee San, let’s stop.”
Baek Kang’s voice, gentle until then, suddenly turned cold. But Lee San was too anxious to think straight.
“While you were gone… I wanted to freeze time. So nothing would change. So when you came back, the three of us could live like before. But that’s not happening. Time keeps flowing, and everything changes.”
Terrified, Lee San babbled as Baek Kang returned beside him. Lee San clung to Baek Kang’s waist like a lifeline, begging and looking up at him.
“You’re not gone, right? You’re still the same?”
“San.”
Baek Kang tried to hug him, but Lee San refused firmly. Looking up at him with flashing eyes, he spoke like a command.
“Marry her.”
“…What?”
“Marry Nuna right away.”
“Man, what are you talking about? It’s not that easy…”
“You were always going to! We promised since I was three years old!”
Lee San seemed almost consumed by madness now.
“You should’ve gotten married before you left. Yeah, that’s right, you should’ve done that. Then Nuna wouldn’t have become a traitor!”
Baek Kang grabbed Lee San’s cheeks, locking eyes with him.
“Lee San, shut up.”
“……”
Not as acting, but Song Hyunsoo’s eyes trembling as he looked up at Yoon Jooho.
Lee San, shut up.
The lines and actions differed from the script. It was the ‘acting from that night’ that Yoon Jooho and Song Hyunsoo had exchanged alone.
Song Hyunsoo realized. The man before him was not Baek Kang, but Yoon Jooho.
That Yoon Jooho who had driven here at dawn, felt an incomparable thrill in acting together, then without hesitation had tightly held hands and run to the parked car together.
Just like then, chills ran over his entire body.
Only Song Hyunsoo knew that it was Yoon Jooho standing here, telling memories — not Baek Kang.
Song Hyunsoo had two choices.
‘If Nuna is taken away, my brother won’t forgive you.’ — ignoring Yoon Jooho and acting according to the script.
Or, following the ‘acting from that night,’ carrying on Yoon Jooho’s lines and feelings.
Tears flowed beneath his fluttering eyelids. The tears seeped between Yoon Jooho’s palm and Song Hyunsoo’s cheek.
Lee San—or rather Song Hyunsoo—murmured with a sorrowful voice like a whisper.
“If I’m not Nuna’s husband… then I have nothing to do with it.”
“……”
“I’ll never forgive you.”
It was the ‘acting from that night.’
Secretly, no one knew, they were exchanging messages in their own code.
Yoon Jooho’s eyes, not Baek Kang’s, shook violently and shattered. His lips parted as if to say something. Like that night.
The desperate longing to approach but hesitation at the same time.
His lips moved several times but in the end, he said nothing and closed them again.
All of that was just Yoon Jooho, not Baek Kang.
Yoon Jooho’s hand cupped the back of Song Hyunsoo’s head. To others, it would look like Baek Kang holding Lee San’s head. But Song Hyunsoo knew.
Very slowly, he pulled him gently into his arms. Two arms coiled like a snake’s loop, tightening gradually but strongly around his torso.
Song Hyunsoo rested his chin on Yoon Jooho’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Heavy tears flowed once more.
That feeling of another’s breath and trembling flowing directly into oneself was so special, it was even more fulfilling than when it led to sex.
Silence surrounded them. The sound of distant waves drifted in. Just like that night.
In this desolate winter field, in Myeonghaeri where everyone had left, in the whole universe, it felt as if only the two of them remained.
No director, no camera, no staff — just the two of them.
As Yoon Jooho and Song Hyunsoo.
“Cut.”
The assistant director’s voice, cautious not to break something fragile and precious.
But it wasn’t over yet. Everyone was still holding their breath, waiting for the director’s message in the monitor room.
Even after the cut, Yoon Jooho didn’t release the strength in his arms. He refused to let go of the one in his embrace.
“Um, senior, cut…”
Only when Song Hyunsoo gently tugged his collar did he sweep his lower jaw like he was crushing it and step back. Slow, and with great difficulty.
Was it just his imagination? His face looked paler than usual.
Was it okay or a no-go? As no message came, the anxious assistant director cautiously radioed the script supervisor in the monitor room.
“How’s it going?”
[Director is still thinking.]
Neither of them had acted according to the script.
Director Jung Joonhee usually gave actors a lot of freedom, but this was acting they hadn’t even tried in rehearsal.
There was no guarantee how the director would take it.
Whether the staff found it strange or not, Song Hyunsoo and Yoon Jooho stood face to face without breaking eye contact.
Like sworn enemies harboring deep grudges. Or like Gyeonwoo and Jiknyeo staring endlessly at each other across the Milky Way.
Static crackled. After the radio connected, the script supervisor’s voice drifted out of the walkie-talkie.
[It’s okay.]
It was the best feeling. Song Hyunsoo wanted to rush forward and shower the man in front of him with kisses.
To grab his hand and run to his car and wildly entwine themselves.
Yoon Jooho stared at Song Hyunsoo with hungry eyes as if daring him to fight.
At that moment, Hyunsoo was certain he was thinking the same thing.