The scene was where Jung Jin, who believed himself to be a vampire, went to Yoon Jooho to deliver a warning.
But in reality, the true vampire was Yoon Jooho, and Jung Jin was a human child raised by vampires.
He simply didn’t know the truth.
Though Yoon Jooho’s popularity and recognition were far greater, regardless of that, the two characters appeared equal within the story.
True to the drama’s reputation as a visual paradise, thanks to the dazzling looks of its lead and supporting actors, Jung Jin’s appearance didn’t fall short of Yoon Jooho’s.
With his pale makeup, minimalist suit, and expressionless face, Jung Jin looked more like a vampire than an actual vampire.
Jung Jin was the right-hand henchman of a powerful high-ranking vampire, a human child raised to believe he was one of them.
He adorned himself with extreme makeup and outfits reminiscent of vampires, and his dialogue was filled with unique words ordinary people wouldn’t use.
His character helped viewers immerse themselves more easily in the vampire world.
A famous internet comment praising Jung Jin’s portrayal of the character had been circulating and discussed for a while:
“I cringed at the idea of a vampire sci-fi and almost didn’t watch it, but Jung Jin’s visuals convinced me. I just want to get slapped once by those tight leather gloves.”
Yoon Jooho and Jung Jin stood in the same frame, exchanging intense tension and performing as equals.
Forgetting the lingering stickiness of his dream, Song Hyunsoo focused for a moment on the two on screen.
I think I get it.
After all, I’m an actor too, no matter how small-time.
Right now, those two are fully immersed, trusting each other and acting their hearts out.
Turning his gaze from the screen, Song Hyunsoo stared blankly at the small piece of paper resting neatly atop the script beside his pillow.
It was Yoon Jooho’s business card.
Even though it was just a piece of paper, the slender rectangle looked expensive.
He held it under his nose.
The scent still lingered.
He hadn’t noticed it at the moment Yoon Jooho handed him the card, but during the company dinner at Honey Night, he realized an unfamiliar fragrance was coming from his own hand.
It turned out to be the scent embedded in Yoon Jooho’s business card.
The fragrance was similar to the cologne Yoon Jooho wore.
Rather than harmonious, it was uniquely intense— different from the usual idea of a “pleasant” perfume, carrying an addictive nuance.
Song Hyunsoo waved the card in front of his face a few times.
As the scent spread, the memories of last night— talking with Yoon Jooho and smoking together— felt sharper.
Staring at the handwritten numbers, he grabbed his phone.
The number was already saved in his contacts.
Turn off that damn video call!
Thanks to the added “Go” at the front, Yoon Jooho’s number sat at the very top of his contact list.
Yoon Jooho’s number is saved in my phone.
No matter how many times he looked, it felt surreal.
I really have become a proper actor, huh?
The realization felt more vivid than when he’d first heard he’d landed the role of Yi San.
He kept watching.
And he envied them.
Of course, Yoon Jooho had no idea Song Hyunsoo existed, but to Song Hyunsoo, it felt like he’d grown up alongside him.
When Song Hyunsoo was in elementary school, he watched Yoon Jooho delicately portray a pubescent boy.
In middle and high school, he witnessed Yoon Jooho’s transition from a boy to a young man.
He saw every step of Yoon Jooho’s journey from child actor to adult performer— natural and steady.
He’d copied Yoon Jooho’s hairstyles and practiced lines he thought were cool in front of the mirror.
He’d once begged his grandfather to buy him the expensive jeans Yoon Jooho advertised and got smacked on the forehead with a spoon for it.
To the growing Song Hyunsoo, Yoon Jooho— four years his senior— was his role model, the standard of what a cool man should be.
Handsome as an angel, beloved by everyone, showered with awards in glamorous settings— a life without a single shadow, effortlessly impressive.
Though Song Hyunsoo had a temper and sometimes clashed or snapped during their conversations, it was no lie that he was a fan.
Even now, while looking at Yoon Jooho’s face and talking to him, he often wondered if this was really Yoon Jooho.
He sometimes wanted to pinch his own cheek and Yoon Jooho’s alternately to check, though he knew it wouldn’t end with just a slap.
Recalling Yoon Jooho’s glaring face, Song Hyunsoo shivered and tightened the blanket around his shoulders.
Then, with a more serious expression than ever, he began typing a message.
“Sen… Senior, did you sleep well? This is Song Hyun… soo, from ‘Dissolve’, playing Yi San in —”
Ugh, no. Too wordy. Delete.
“Senior, good morning? It’s me, Hyun… soo…”
His fingers paused again.
Delete, delete.
Is there something witty yet impactful I could say?
Forget it.
Like I could come up with something that high-class.
《Senior, hello. This is actor Song Hyunsoo. What time and where should I go today?》
After countless rounds of writing and erasing, the message I ultimately chose was the most ordinary one.
After hitting send, I changed my phone settings to ring and vibrate simultaneously.
I even turned up the volume.
Just in case— so I wouldn’t miss the reply.
Song Hyunsoo rose from the bed, where only a bare mattress lay without a frame.
The air outside the electric blanket was bitingly cold.
Even though it was indoors, a faint breeze drifted in as if from an unseen fan.
If only this were summer instead of winter— how nice would that be?
He pulled on the T-shirt he’d tossed aside earlier, then layered a sweatshirt over it.
Running the boiler for too long was a luxury he couldn’t afford with gas prices as they were.
Naturally, the floor was ice-cold.
“My feet— ah, my feet are freezing!”
Hopping on tiptoe, he scrambled to find the remaining rabbit slipper flung near the TV and slipped it on.
Even in a freezing house, he had to sleep shirtless.
And the stifling feeling made wearing socks unbearable.
For someone like Song Hyunsoo, the electric blanket and thick rabbit slippers were winter essentials he couldn’t live without.
“Your loyalty is truly remarkable.”
On the TV, Yoon Joo-ho was still facing off against Jung Jin.
To anyone watching, Yoon Jooho was clearly the human, while Jung Jin seemed more like a vampire.
But the truth was never something you could grasp just by appearances.
It was one of his favorite scenes.
Pausing in front of the TV, Song Hyunsoo recited the next line aloud along with Yoon Joo-ho on screen.
“Carrying a photo of ‘that person’ in your wallet… What a romantic kind of loyalty.”
“Carrying a photo of ‘that person’ in your wallet… What a romantic kind of loyalty.”
Every night, he played Yoon Joo-ho’s works before falling asleep.
Over time, he’d memorized nearly all the highlight lines.
It was a habit he’d developed after Choi Hong-seo left this world— and insomnia took hold.
He’d tried almost every sleep remedy circulating online.
Warm milk, bananas, tea, handfuls of almonds.
He’d even dabbed some supposed aromatherapy oil behind his ears and experimented with different ASMR videos.
But nothing really worked.
People said there were plenty of safe sleeping pills these days, but the idea of relying on medication never sat right with him.
Instead, he’d play Yoon Joo-ho’s works, curl up sideways on the bed, and eventually drift off.
That was the most effective method— at least it dulled the feeling of being alone.
To Song Hyunsoo, Yoon Joo-ho’s acting voice was his ASMR.
He turned off the TV and headed to the kitchen.
Without bothering with a glass, he chugged the remaining water straight from the PET bottle in front of the fridge.
Feeling like he needed caffeine to clear his head, he filled the kettle and set it to boil.
Even that kettle was something he’d brought from his old place.
He dumped two packets of instant coffee into a mug and waited for the water to boil.
Arms crossed, he leaned against the fridge and stared blankly at the Han River outside the kitchen window.
♬♪♪
His phone, left discarded on the mattress, rang.
The ringtone was a solo track by Choi Hong-seo.
“Ah— ah, damn it… Ouch—”
In his rush to answer, he stumbled.
One rabbit slipper flew off, and his little toe slammed into the doorframe.
Despite his desperate scramble, the caller wasn’t who he’d hoped for— it was his grandmother.
Plonking down onto the mattress, Song Hyunsoo clutched his throbbing toe and answered the call, straining to keep the pain out of his voice.
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