When the plate of tiramisu had been picked at to a modest degree, Shin Hyojin casually lifted her phone to check the time.
“Sunbae, you’re going to the Nox Hotel party tomorrow, right?”
“You too, Hyojin?”
“Yeah, I really don’t want to, though. I finally got to rest a little over the past couple of days, but now that Christmas is over, it’s already time for year-end events. Starting tomorrow, it’s party marathon season again.”
“Same here. I was still suffering from all the booze on Christmas up until this morning,” Yoon Jooho said, bringing the coffee that came with the tiramisu to his lips with a tone that reeked of weariness. He had left half his steak untouched and had barely touched his dessert either. Song Hyunsoo was no different.
“But still, they’re parties! I went to the Vogue Korea party on Christmas—it was so much fun!”
To Han Jooyoung’s tone of cheerful disbelief, Yoon Jooho responded with a quiet snort.
“Sure, maybe for a newbie like you. Just give it three or four years. Let’s see if it’s still fun then.”
“……”
“Well, that’s assuming anyone’s still inviting you in three or four years.”
Before Han Jooyoung could shoot back, Yoon Jooho placed his coffee cup back on the saucer and looked around the table.
“Shall we wrap it up here? Hyojin, is your manager driving?”
“Huh? We’re not going for round two? It’s barely 9 o’clock!” Jooyoung said with visible disappointment.
“Didn’t you hear Hyojin and I both say we’ve got plans tomorrow?”
“If I’d known we were ending this early, I would’ve made other plans,” she grumbled.
Everyone was pulling out their phones or messaging their managers. Not wanting to just sit there doing nothing, Song Hyunsoo reached down and pulled his backpack into his lap, rummaging through it aimlessly.
His hand brushed against a crinkling sheet of paper—
It was the shopping bag containing the gift he’d brought today, meant for Yoon Jooho. But between the mood and the timing, it was clear: today just wasn’t the day.
“Hyunsoo, how about you? Wanna go grab a drink with me for round two?”
“Huh?”
Hyunsoo had been in the middle of zipping his bag shut when the unexpected question made him look up. Han Jooyoung was staring at him from across the table, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
What kind of flower field do you have to be living in to think asking me out for drinks alone is a normal idea?
And we’re not talking about some backyard garden. This one’s gotta be at least the size of Jeju Island’s canola flower festival.
“Everyone else is busy, so I figured the two of us could grab one more drink.”
“Ah…”
“My treat.”
Even if she were offering me a two-million-won bottle of whiskey, I’d still say no. Thanks to your dear hyung, my palate’s all messed up—I barely touched the fancy fish or the dessert. All I want right now is to go home and cook some instant ramen.
—That response was right on the tip of his tongue.
If they weren’t going to be filming the same project for the next few months, he might’ve even lost it by now. Like he had with that theater senior once.
The truth was, Hyunsoo had already been through that more than a few times, back when he was doing bit parts and extra work. He had a shining track record of blowing up at people for crap treatment and getting fired on the spot. But this project—this one—was not something he could afford to lose.
That young master probably isn’t trying to screw with me on purpose.
He’s just got a brain made entirely of Jeju canola flowers.
He was trying to calm himself with that silent mantra when—
“They were hyping you up like crazy, saying you got into some elite American college.”
Yoon Jooho muttered from beside him, the sarcasm in his tone razor-sharp.
“Was that directed at me?”
Han Jooyoung pointed at herself in mock offense. Yoon Jooho just stared at her.
“With that kind of memory, I have no idea how you ever got into a top school.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t you remember saying you had a part-time job on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Mr. Song Hyunsoo? That’s why we scheduled this dinner for Thursday.”
“Did I?”
“They say in the U.S., graduating college is harder than getting in. Maybe you only managed the first part… You sure memorizing lines isn’t a problem?”
At Yoon Jooho’s provocation, Han Jooyoung visibly scowled.
“That was two weeks ago. People forget stuff. No need to be so harsh about it.”
“Ha. Harsh? You call that harsh?”
Their voices gradually grew louder.
“Isn’t it? I know enough Korean to know when I’m being insulted!”
“For someone who knows what an insult is, you sure—!”
Hyunsoo had a good idea of what Jooho was about to say.
So he firmly grabbed Jooho’s arm—there was no need to say it out loud.
“Sunbae, your phone. It’s ringing.”
“……”
Hyunsoo locked eyes with Jooho, holding his gaze with intent. The phone on the table was buzzing silently.
Jooho wet his lips with his tongue and dropped his shoulders, gaze lowered. He seemed to understand what Hyunsoo was trying to say. He picked up his phone and answered the call.
“Hey, where’s the car?”
Only Han Jooyoung remained unaware, but the atmosphere—already tense—had now fully turned hostile.
With no manager or car waiting for him, Hyunsoo was desperate to leave first.
But in the entertainment world, there was still an unspoken rule: there’s a proper order to leaving.
“Hyunsoo-ssi, where do you live? If we’re going the same way, we can ride together.”
Shin Hyojin asked him carefully. In a way, she was the biggest victim of this entire scene—completely unrelated, just a third party.
“It’s all right, sunbae-nim. I’m sure we’re headed in different directions anyway.”
“Where exactly? I live in Oksu-dong.”
…Oops. Same direction.
“Really, really, don’t worry about me. I was planning to take a taxi.”
Waving his hands as if to emphasize it, Hyunsoo politely declined. Hyojin gave an awkward smile but didn’t insist further.
When the managers arrived, the group began to leave the private room together.
The restaurant manager quickly attached himself to Jooho.
“Thank you so much for coming today, sir.”
Jooho gave only the slightest nod.
“I heard you left most of the steak and dessert. Was the food not to your liking?”
“No, I’d already eaten before coming.”
Despite Jooho’s curt reply, the manager didn’t give up.
“I see. If you visit again, we’d love to serve you our Mediterranean-style octopus dish.
It’s our chef’s specialty, and I’m sorry we couldn’t offer it tonight.”
On any other day, Hyunsoo might have been envious of the special treatment Jooho received.
But not today.
That kind of attention might be nice for a day or two, but constantly having to accept unwanted kindness—even when you’re in a bad mood—must get exhausting.
Watching Jooho quicken his pace ahead of them, the manager clicked his tongue with a bittersweet look. Then he turned to Shin Hyojin with a cheerful smile.
“Miss Shin Hyojin, have a safe trip home. Mr. Jooho’s manager already took care of the bill.”
“Oh… really? Okay. Thank you.”
The group filed out single-file through the narrow path between the tables.
Other guests at the restaurant reacted as if a group of celebrities had arrived for a movie premiere or year-end awards show.
Everyone pulled out their phones, and more than 80% of the lenses were aimed squarely at Yoon Jooho.
Even though he was branded an unfilial son after a conflict with his parents—
Even though people said all kinds of things about the film he was finally starring in after 30 years since debut—
The fact that people went wild with excitement just from seeing Yoon Jooho in person left Song Hyunsoo stunned.
He couldn’t believe that the people gleefully recording Jooho on their phones—as if receiving an unexpected gift— were the same people as the ones online.
Some customers even followed them outside the restaurant.
They didn’t come close asking for photos,
But held up their phones mere inches away and continued filming.
Because of that, Song Hyunsoo and Han Jooyoung were jostled around.
“Excuse me, this is personal time—don’t you think you’re being a bit rude? You’re literally pushing us right now.”
Han Jooyoung expressed her displeasure, but she received no apology in return.
“Who even is she, acting like someone important when no one’s filming her?”
They sneered, and Jooyoung glared back with a dumbfounded expression.
Her manager quickly got out of the car and stepped in to mediate.
“Sunbae-nim, I heard you paid for everything. The wine and dinner were wonderful, thank you.”
While Shin Hyojin expressed her thanks to Yoon Jooho,
\Hyunsoo took the chance to bow politely as well.
“There’s nothing to thank me for. I’ve been in the industry over 20 years—it’s only right that I pay. I’ll be heading out now.”
With a hardened expression,
Jooho glanced at Han Jooyoung once more before shaking his head and getting into his car.
This version of Yoon Jooho felt completely different from the one Hyunsoo practiced acting with.
He was no longer someone you could casually talk to—
but a top star,
the kind you could only watch from afar and capture on your phone.
Once all three cars had left,
Hyunsoo finally let out a deep breath.
He put in his earphones and searched for the nearest bus stop.
He’d never planned to take a taxi anyway.
A ride from here to Bogwang-dong? Way too expensive.
It’s not even that late—taking a cab would be a waste.
By habit, he played a song by Choi Hongseo and began walking toward the main road.
The area around Dosan Park, alive with end-of-year festivities, bustled with energy.
He slowly made his way through the crowd.
It wasn’t even 10 PM yet,
but the bus stop was filled with a noisy group of early-twenties drunkards.
Hyunsoo turned the volume up.
“Open your eyes while you wash your hair.
Even if the bubbles run down your face, it’s okay— because I’m an adult.
I’m an adult.”
He quietly hummed along to the lyrics in his earbuds—
When suddenly, a familiar-looking car slowed down and approached.
A massive SUV, like a humpback whale.
He already knew whose car it was.
“You said you were taking a taxi.”
So when the window rolled down and the face appeared, he wasn’t even surprised.