After finishing his shower, Yoon Jooho made his way to the acting practice room.
He lit a scented candle, detached the camera from its stand, and sat down on the sofa.
He set a can of beer on the side table and focused on the monitor.
『You sound like a total enlightened one.』
The camera was trained on Song Hyunsoo, and Jooho’s voice came from off-screen.
Whether Hyunsoo knew it or not, the second camera was always fixed in his direction, not Jooho’s.
『Unless you’re gonna solve all my problems, there’s no point, so just leave me alone. I used to be like that too. But I started thinking… Maybe that’s not always true.
Sometimes, just talking and having someone listen can help. As long as I know they’re really listening.』
On the monitor, Song Hyunsoo was looking at Jooho with a serious, focused gaze.
There wasn’t a trace of hesitation, no fear of being laughed at, his eyes were so direct, they almost came off as arrogant.
『So, is Jung Jin that kind of person to you?』
Jooho’s voice again, from off-screen.
Hyunsoo fidgeted with the teacup in his hand, swallowed dryly, then gave a small nod.
『Yeah. I realized that thanks to you. I was lucky.』
『……』
『Even if you don’t take full responsibility, sometimes kindness is better than indifference.』
He lowered his eyes and put down the teacup, then picked up the script, his face now sheepish, embarrassed by his own honesty.
『And… she said you shouldn’t stop love when it’s trying to leave. Forcing it only turns it into resentment.』
『Who said that?』
『My grandmother.』
Flipping open the script, Hyunsoo wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and said,
『You’re going first, right?』
Then he lifted his head and looked directly into the camera.
Jooho paused the video.
Sipping his beer, he studied the face frozen on the monitor carefully.
What the hell had Jung Jin done to earn that kind of blind devotion?
That kid was practically imprinted on her like a baby duck.
Thirty years isn’t a particularly long life.
It’s not even enough to say you’ve lived long.
But spending all that time obsessively devoted to one field was nothing to scoff at.
Jooho had watched countless stars rise and fall.
Some gave everything and still never made it, while others, barely trying, skyrocketed to stardom overnight.
Those days, Jooho could predict an actor’s future just by looking at their face.
Good looks weren’t enough.
It had to be a face that read as an actor on camera.
There was a difference.
Staring at Hyunsoo’s face as he looked into the camera, Jooho’s lips slowly curled into a smile.
“You look good on camera.”
He was about to take another sip of beer when he heard the door lock beep from the front entrance.
Moments later, the reflection of Director Bang appeared in the glass wall.
“I told you to just go home. Why’d you come back?”
“Just wanted to check in, see how you’re holding up. Where’s Hyunsoo?”
Director Bang looked around the room as if Hyunsoo might still be hiding somewhere.
“It’s late. He’s gone.”
“Yeah… makes sense. What about the cocktail thing? He said yes?”
“Yeah.”
Jooho turned off the camera and got up with his beer can in hand.
Behind him, as he extinguished the candle with a bell-shaped snuffer, Director Bang muttered,
“Good thing Hyunsoo said yes. The party’s less than ten days away, and now we suddenly have to set up a cocktail bar…”
Enough champagne had already been secured for the birthday party.
There was always going to be a bar for guests who wanted something else,
But cocktails hadn’t been in the original plan because that would complicate everything.
Following Jooho out of the rehearsal room, Director Bang launched into his usual nagging:
How much trouble the party planner was going through because of Jooho’s whims,
How much the budget had gone up—
All because Jooho had suddenly decided he wanted cocktails.
With one hand still in the pocket of his robe, Yoon Jooho took a sip of his beer and grimaced.
The half-finished can had gone warm, leaving only its bitter aftertaste.
He walked over to the kitchen and poured the rest down the sink.
“My mood swings aren’t exactly breaking news, are they?”
“You don’t even care about birthday parties. But then suddenly you barge in talking about cocktails and needing a bartender? Of course it seems weird.”
Without responding, Jooho turned away and pulled a cold beer from the fridge.
As he popped the tab, the live-in assistant silently watched him, then took off his coat and draped it over a stool while glancing around the kitchen.
“What about food? Should I order you something before I go?”
“I already ate.”
“You did? What’d you eat?”
“Kimchi fried rice. Or maybe it was kimchi pot rice?”
Jooho chuckled to himself as he replied, walking through the kitchen toward the living room.
“You had kimchi fried rice? You made it yourself?”
“As if. It was made for me.”
“By who?”
“Song Hyunsoo.”
“You two are even cooking meals together now?”
The assistant trailed after him, peppering him with more questions.
Just as Jooho was sinking into his single armchair, his brow twitched.
As much as the assistant knew Jooho, Jooho knew him too and he could hear the interrogative edge in his voice.
“Hyung.”
“Yeah?”
“Did you come here to check up on me?”
“……”
“Worried I dragged her into bed or something?”
Leaning back in the chair, Jooho looked up at him with a crooked expression.
“You know I don’t just touch people who are close to me whenever I feel like it.”
“I know.”
“You seem to genuinely like Hyunsoo… so I wondered, just in case…”
“Just in case what? You rushed over here because you thought the two of us might be rolling around in your absence?”
Realizing the conversation wasn’t going to just blow over, the assistant sighed and plopped into the seat across from him.
“You seemed fine for a while… but lately, you’ve been acting strange again.”
“I’m always strange.”
Jooho snapped as he reached for the cigarette pack on the side table.
“Is this because Jung the Actor left for Paris? Got you all restless again?”
As he struck the lighter, Jooho’s brows furrowed.
He took the cigarette from his mouth and gave the assistant a look.
“Why are you suddenly bringing her up?”
“Jooho, you can’t fool me. Ever since that night you saw his play right before he left for Paris you’ve been off.”
“You were the one who pushed me to go see him before he left.”
Jooho lit his cigarette and took a deep drag.
Then he gulped down a long pull of beer.
His mood was spiraling fast.
“That’s because time had passed, and you seemed like you were finally okay.”
He had seen Jung Jin’s play in a small theater in Daehak-ro, then briefly met her afterward at a bar.
It had been a year since they’d seen each other.
The relationship was over, fully and cleanly, with no reason to stay in touch.
Jung Jin was moving to Paris, France.
The assistant had all but hounded Jooho into seeing him one last time before he left and said it was important to find closure, to put a pin in the end of the relationship so he could finally move on.
It might’ve come from someone who hadn’t been in a relationship in five years, but still, the advice had weight.
The assistant had been in something long and serious.
And it worked.
Creating a proper goodbye.
Marking the moment you each turned onto your own path.
Building a gravestone and planting a headstone for the relationship.
“I told you after I got back that it was a good idea. I remember saying that. So what exactly is the problem now?”
“If you were over him, then why drag Hyunsoo into all this?”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
Jooho raked his hand roughly through his hair.
“It’s obvious. You’re keeping someone close just because he happens to know Jung.”
“Hah.”
He shook his head and took another long drag.
He had no energy to explain it, but he could see how the assistant’s thoughts had spiraled.
He tapped ash into the tray and asked, as if confirming:
“You think I’m keeping Song Hyunsoo around because of Jung Jin?”
“Jooho, you know I’m not trying to nag you. I just want to know if something has already happened.”
“Sure. Because who I sleep with is clearly more important than my acting.”
“Why do you always have to say it like that, man?”
With his eyes still averted, Yoon Jooho gripped the cigarette filter between his fingers and took a sharp drag.
His voice came out cold, clipped.
“I’ll give you the full report of who I slept with, how long I stayed hard, what positions we used, how many times I came. Every little detail. Now can you just let me be alone, hyung?”
Director Bang stood up.
From the kitchen came the rustling sound of him gathering the coat and bag he had taken off earlier.
Jooho drank his beer, eyes still fixed indifferently on the city lights beyond the full-length window.
“I’m saying this knowing you’ll curse me out and hate me for it.”
Reflected in the glass, Director Bang had stopped behind Jooho.
“Hyunsoo’s not the one.”
“What’s not?”
“They say you’re close with Actor Jung. If you’re laying hands on Hyunsoo because you’re being fickle… that’s not something you should be doing.”
“……”
“If you’re just looking for a fling, find someone else.”
He stood there for a moment before turning and walking out of the living room.
Director Bang was the one person Jooho was truly weak to.
Back in his teenage years, when he was being torn apart by abusive parents, it was Director Bang like a youngest uncle, like a big brother who soothed his wounds.
Jooho often admitted to himself that if not for him, he would’ve turned into something far worse than the broken mess he already was.
He knew that Director Bang’s advice was more about protecting him than it was about Hyunsoo.
“Fickle. A fling…”
Jooho muttered the words Director Bang had used, lighting another cigarette and taking another sip of beer.
Did he rarely find himself liking someone like Song Hyunsoo?
That was true.
But was it because of Jung Jin?
Director Bang’s guess came close to the mark, yet missed it again.
And that, more than anything, left Jooho feeling suffocated and disappointed.
Like staring at a crossword puzzle where the answer feels just out of reach, pencil hovering, unable to fill in the blanks.