Rushing toward the set where the final preparations for filming were in full swing, Yoon Jooho kept glancing around, searching for Director Jung Joonhee or the assistant director.
[Still, it’s not to the point where we have to postpone the shoot…]
On the other end of the line, Song Hyunsoo’s voice was still unstable.
Standing in the middle of the bustling set, Jooho swept his hair back and scanned the surroundings.
“I don’t know how things will come out over there. Are the calls still coming through?”
[They keep cutting out, then coming back.]
“Song Hyunsoo, listen to me carefully.”
[…]
“Don’t answer those calls until I get there. Sangho, I’m sending this to you right now—don’t let anyone else open the door but you.”
[This is serious, right?]
Jooho wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t, but seeing how far this had escalated, it was clear the other side was fully intent on their plan. He hadn’t expected it to extend to Song Hyunsoo himself.
Through the entrance of Lee Sol and Lee San’s house, Jooho spotted Director Jung discussing with the camera director.
As he approached, he pressed his phone close to his lips and whispered.
“Sorry. But trust me on this one thing.”
[…]
“I won’t let anyone touch you.”
[Who am I? I’m just an unknown actor. They’re after the senior actor!]
Song Hyunsoo’s cry sounded like a desperate scream.
Despite their previous harsh words and serious argument, at this moment he put all that aside to worry about Jooho’s safety.
Stopping briefly at the entrance of Sol and San’s house, Jooho paced restlessly, wiping his face multiple times.
“You’ll follow my instructions, right?”
[…]
“Promise me, Song Hyunsoo?”
He tried hard to hide it, but just from the tremor in his breath, Jooho could tell he was crying. It felt like his very being was being torn apart.
Closing his eyes for a moment, swallowing dryly, he struggled to steady his voice. He wanted to ease Hyunsoo’s fears, even just a little.
“I’ll take care of everything. Don’t cry.”
[I’m not crying.]
His voice stubbornly insisted he wasn’t crying, even though he clearly was on the verge of tears. Jooho gave a faint smile and nodded.
“Good. That’s the Song Hyunsoo I know. I’m coming soon.”
Ending the call, he approached Director Jung and the camera director, who had been working on the floor plan.
Both turned at his sudden appearance.
The camera director, sensing the gravity of the situation from Jooho’s expression, discreetly moved aside.
“Jooho, what’s wrong? Is something going on?”
Jooho bowed respectfully.
“Sorry, Director. I don’t think I can shoot today.”
“Not feeling well? You look pale.”
“I need to go to Seoul.”
“Seoul?”
“It’s something very important. There’s no choice. I’m truly sorry.”
“Is that so…?”
The director’s face registered concern and curiosity. What could be so serious that Jooho wanted to postpone filming even though he wasn’t sick?
“Of course, I will cover all losses.”
“That’s not the issue, you know.”
Director Jung raised his voice with a slight reproach.
“We’ll just rearrange the shooting schedule with the other actors present today. It’ll be a hassle, but it’s not impossible.”
“Since everyone has to put in extra effort because of me, I will compensate.”
“If it’s you, Jooho, it must be really important.”
“Yes.”
Jooho’s reply was brief and resolute, leaving no room for compromise.
“I’ve been in the film industry longer than you, but I know what kind of actor Yoon Jooho is. Always the first to arrive on set. Never calls in sick, even with a high fever. And from my own experience, what I’ve heard about you is true.”
As the director spoke, Jooho’s gaze slowly dropped, heavy with thought.
A top star afflicted with actor’s disease—arrogant and self-centered. Except for a small inner circle, everyone thought of him that way.
Because he was fundamentally flawed, no matter how hard he tried, he was misunderstood.
No matter his efforts, his sincerity never got through. But that wasn’t all.
“No matter what it is, at times like this, we have to support each other as a team, right?”
This time, Jooho lifted his eyes to the director, who smiled warmly and patted his shoulder.
“Your heart’s already there.”
“……”
“Even if I tried to hold you back, could you act in that state? Just go.”
Jooho bowed and left, his pace quickening as he headed toward the Sprinter.
He called Bang Manager, explaining the situation.
After a moment of serious thought, the manager spoke in a calm, persuasive tone.
[Earlier you said you were fine and would shoot. Let’s finish that first…]
“That was before they went after Song Hyunsoo.”
Jooho snapped irritably, hurriedly getting into the Sprinter.
The manager looked confused, but Jooho told him to start driving straight to Seoul.
Collapsing into the seat, he tilted his head back.
“What if something happens before I get there? What if they find Hyunsoo?”
[Surely not that far…]
“Did you expect them to go this far?”
[…]
“He’s panicking because he’s scared, hyung. I have to be there for him.”
Why the normally fearless Song Hyunsoo was panicking—only Jooho truly understood.
He was afraid the same thing that happened to his friend would happen to him.
The thought of being trapped in this car with no way out felt suffocating.
Jooho asked Bang Manager to go immediately to the West Sea Bar house and stay with Song Hyunsoo.
Nervously biting his lower lip, he hurriedly added,
“Prepare a helicopter.”
[What? It’s too tight a schedule for that, man.]
“How long to get there driving? It’ll take over two hours. If necessary, set up for a boarding from Osan or Suwon. I’ll be driving up in the meantime.”
[Don’t drive yourself, Jooho.]
Ending the call, Jooho clenched his phone tightly with intertwined fingers.
Even though the road ahead was clear without a single car in sight, he felt trapped in a gridlocked jam.
Bending forward, anxiously biting his lips, his brows twitched.
Why on earth did that bastard’s words come to mind at a moment like this?
That bastard. The one who said he waited seven years for Jung Ji-in, despite only having known her for a few days—the one with the strange name.
『“If it’s true love, you can wait ten years without faltering, not just seven. Someone you want to be with for life—are seven or ten years really that long? You’re the type who can’t do long-term investment in stocks.”』
Back then, Jooho couldn’t comprehend those words.
Was it really possible after spending only a few days together?
True love. To Jooho, it was like dark matter or the multiverse—an intangible concept.
But now, as he rushed to Song Hyunsoo, praying for his safety, he suddenly understood those words.
Someone irreplaceable. Not just because you want to possess them, but because they complete you.
Without that person, no matter where or how you live, you’re incomplete. Whether it takes seven years, ten years, or more… someone you can’t settle for second best.
Straightening his back, he looked out the window. The vehicle had left Myeonghaeri and was merging onto the West Coast Expressway.
Instead of reaching for a cigarette to shake off his tension and anxiety, Jooho called Song Hyunsoo again.
Unlike before when Hyunsoo only read messages without replying, this time he immediately answered.
“We’ve left. Shouldn’t take more than two hours. Are they still calling?”
[The last call was ten minutes ago.]
“You didn’t answer?”
[No.]
“Want to keep talking until I get there?”
[Senior.]
“Yes, Yoon Jooho. I’ll never get taken down. Don’t worry.”
[…]
“Shall we talk about when we first met?”
Sobs could be heard faintly through the phone.
[If this blows up… Senior, you’ll…]
“Do your impersonation of me, Hyunsoo. Don’t cry.”
Song Hyunsoo said tears came when he felt wronged or frustrated.
Hearing him cry somewhere other than his bed was truly, really unpleasant.
■
Song Hyunsoo sat on the living room sofa at West Sea Bar, facing Bang Manager.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, but neither felt the urge to break it.
Twisting his clasped hands nervously, Hyunsoo was startled by the bell ringing on the wall pad.
“……”
He had just been on the phone with Yoon Jooho, who had said he would land on the rooftop heliport of this building.
So that bell must mean Jooho had arrived. Still, his breath hitched sharply.
Bang Manager, sitting opposite, stood first and checked the visitor. With a relieved yet still tense expression, he looked back at Hyunsoo.
“It’s Jooho. He’s at the front door.”
Without realizing it, Hyunsoo jumped up and practically ran down the hallway toward the entrance.
Quickly unlocking and opening the door, the figure revealed in the gap was not the Yoon Jooho he knew well.
Though just a few days ago at the West Sea Bar he had looked thinner and more worn than before, this was different.
The confident and always relaxed Yoon Jooho was nowhere to be seen. Fatigued and sharpened by tension, he seemed like a different person after only a few days.
Standing there like a large ghost, Jooho managed a smile with cracked, chapped lips.
It looked like the smile of someone with thorns stuck all over his throat.
“…Come in.”
His voice was barely squeezed out as he welcomed him.
Jooho had thought things had settled somewhat during their call, but seeing his face stirred up fresh emotions.
Not wanting to cry, he turned away first.
But Song Hyunsoo’s feet, walking ahead down the hall, soon stopped short.
“……”
Silent arms came from behind and pulled him into an embrace. Jooho’s broad chest pressed against his back, his lips brushed the nape of his neck.
A warm sigh tickled his skin.
“I’m so relieved. Nothing’s happened to you yet.”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.