If you want something, you must have it. Otherwise, it’s meaningless.
But forcing myself wasn’t the only proof of love.
Being moved by the smallest gesture, being cautious so as not to provoke hatred by pushing too hard—this too could be love.
Even in this moment apart, Song Hyunsoo was constantly changing himself.
He looked out the car window. The passing scenery still lingered in winter—bare, withered fields and mountains.
Yet strangely, he felt like he had been reborn. Despite not having eaten properly for days, despite receiving the dirtiest challenge from his parents, he felt more determined than ever.
Out of habit, he rubbed the watch on his left wrist with his right hand.
『“If it’s precious, say it’s precious; if it hurts, say it hurts; if you don’t want to lose it, say so. Say everything out loud.”
“Should I not let it be taken? Should I chase after it to the end?”
“It’s mine. Why would I just stand by if it’s taken? That’s disrespectful to myself.”』
As Song Hyunsoo said, he was determined not to lose anything.
Not his acting, not his look planning, not the name Yoon Jooho, and nothing else.
Even now, apart, Song Hyunsoo was the one who gave him answers.
He felt he wasn’t fighting alone.
He had never met anyone like him in his life.
Pressing the hand holding the watch to his left chest, Yoon Jooho chuckled softly.
He wouldn’t lose to anyone,
He would be free and reach great heights.
■
The set was bustling with preparation.
Yoon Jooho slipped his arm into the sleeve of his padded jacket and stepped out of the Sprinter.
He greeted the director and then moved to the makeup bus.
The makeup room for <Dissolve> was in a large bus, restructured from a 29-seater.
Having already changed into his costume, Yoon Jooho sat down in front of the vanity mirror.
“Scene 56 today, right?”
The makeup chief formally confirmed the scene with Yoon Jooho.
Yoon Jooho wiped his face with both hands and nodded.
“Please take good care of me today, Chief.”
Then began the kind of makeup different from the roles he’d played in dramas until now.
Previously, he focused on perfecting a base makeup that made his skin look cleaner and more beautiful.
But now, the face in the mirror was slowly transforming into Baekgang’s—soft yet exuding a loneliness that felt hard to understand, with a dark complexion.
“Oh, Jooho, that’s quite a commotion.”
The chief, dabbing the makeup base carefully with a sponge, smiled as she spoke.
“What commotion?”
“Hyunsoo’s following.”
“Ah.”
It was nothing new; he’d been hearing about it all week wherever he went.
“Hyunsoo made his followers reach 100,000 in just a few days?”
“It’s 130,000 now.”
The hair director, prepping nearby, added to the conversation.
At the mention of 130,000, the makeup chief widened her eyes and paused briefly.
Yoon Jooho, twirling his phone idly in his hands while getting his makeup done, sounded bored.
“Who I follow, or anything like that, isn’t really newsworthy.”
“It is newsworthy. For five years, no one followed him.”
How many times had he done things he never did with anyone else but Song Hyunsoo?
And yet, he was so focused on holding onto him that he overlooked what truly mattered.
While gripping tighter at the thought of losing him, other parts strained and finally snapped under too much pressure.
Yoon Jooho smiled bitterly and nodded.
“That’s right. No one followed him. Until now.”
“Did you get close while working on <Dissolve>?”
“Yes, very close.”
“Hyunsoo’s warm and affectionate.”
“Is that so?”
“He’s always the first to arrive for makeup, even though it’s tiring. If the next actor hasn’t arrived yet and there’s some free time, he even massages our shoulders.”
“Oh, Hyunsoo did that…”
It wasn’t hard to imagine Song Hyunsoo acting coquettishly toward makeup directors at least a dozen years older than him.
For Yoon Jooho, it wasn’t such a pleasant thought.
“He grew up around grandparents, so he doesn’t find adults intimidating.”
“Hyunsoo naturally follows people well.”
Yoon Jooho’s eyelids twitched as he held the clips pinning his hair on both sides.
He barely spoke to him unless necessary.
An ESFP who flirts with just anyone and then turns on them.
His gut twisted with jealousy.
He gripped his phone tighter.
“Seems so. Did you know Hyunsoo likes mix coffee more than Americano? I was really surprised.”
“Of course, I know. He likes mix coffee.”
Tapping his other palm against the bottom of the phone in his hand, Yoon Jooho added,
“He also likes strawberries. Geumsil Strawberries.”
Song Hyunsoo likes kisses too.
Not the soft, gentle kisses that melt slowly with teasing nibbles, but the kind that push hard, explore thoroughly, and suck fiercely.
He quickly goes limp, and from the back of the neck come the cutest little moans… drrek, drrek.
Yoon Jooho’s hand, tapping obsessively on the phone like a madman, suddenly felt the device vibrate.
Flipping his wrist, he checked the caller ID and cursed under his breath.
“Damn it…”
He would probably be less shocked if a dead person called.
The caller was ‘Peach.’
Yoon Jooho immediately sprang up from his chair.
“Chief, just a moment. Sorry, it’s a really important call.”
“Uh… okay. Take it comfortably.”
Afraid the call might drop, he hurriedly rushed out of the bus without even putting on his outerwear.
He paced back and forth, not knowing what to do, as if holding a searing hot piece of metal instead of a phone.
‘Peach’ kept ringing nonstop.
He didn’t feel ready, but he couldn’t keep her waiting any longer.
“Uh… yeah, it’s me.”
Like a clumsy boy flustered by a call from his crush, Yoon Jooho connected the call with a nervous expression and awkward voice.
He gripped the hair clips in his hands.
[Hyung.]
“Huh?”
[Hyung, what’s this? I… just got something weird… What is this…]
He felt as if all the blood in his body had been bleached white.
He had a pretty good idea what the ‘weird thing’ Song Hyunsoo was talking about was.
His pacing stopped.
In a voice calm enough to surprise himself, he asked Song Hyunsoo,
“Is the thing you received, by any chance, a photo of us?”
[What do I do? What if something happens to you because of this…]
“Hyunsoo.”
[Who sent this? A media outlet? Or YouTube? Is it about money? Are they demanding money, hyung?]
Usually confident, the guy who went to find Manager Cha and even got back his watch was now so half out of it he was babbling incoherently.
No wonder, considering the friend who had lost his life.
He was always sensitive even to unrelated scandals—Kang Miyeon’s or Nam Seyeon’s divorce rumors.
And another reason was probably because of him.
Because he was involved too, and worried about Yoon Jooho’s safety.
“Hyunsoo, nothing will happen. They can’t do anything with just that photo. It’s okay.”
[…]
“Song Hyunsoo, are you listening? Huh?”
A shaky breath came through the line, unstable for a moment.
Then, trembling as if about to burst into tears, Song Hyunsoo asked,
[What if this isn’t all? What if they have worse things?]
“If they had anything worse, they’d have thrown it out first.”
[Do you know who sent it, hyung?]
Yoon Jooho stuffed the hair clips into his pants pocket and rubbed the corners of his mouth several times.
My parents, he thought.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He knew Song Hyunsoo would be shocked.
After the restless, rustling background noise, Song Hyunsoo shouted in a terrified voice,
[Calls keep coming from unknown numbers.]
Yoon Jooho ruffled his hair wildly.
“Where are you now?”
[I’m at West Sea’s place. This suddenly came by courier…]
“Don’t leave there under any circumstances. Ignore the calls. If someone comes by, pretend you’re not home and call security first.”
[I shouldn’t have gone to your place. No matter what you said, I should’ve refused…]
“That’s not true, Hyunsoo. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about anything. Just wait a moment, okay?”
[…]
“I’m coming right now.”
[You’re coming right now? But you have filming today…]
“I don’t care.”
He was already running by the time he said it.