[You’ve clearly thought this through. Is it because you want to look good in front of him—since you’ll be filming together?]
“Y-yeah! I mean, there’s no harm in making a good impression, right?”
Jung Jin seemed hesitant about the idea of a one-million-won birthday gift, but in the end, she appeared to have made up her mind.
[If it’s within that budget… I think a personal accessory might be best.]
“Right? That makes the most sense.”
Anything beyond accessories would be hard to find within that price range.
“Hyung… what do you think about a lighter?”
[A lighter?]
“He’s always losing them, so… probably not the best idea, huh?”
[Hmm… I doubt it’d last him a week.]
Honestly, a lighter had been the first thing that came to mind.
Every time they crossed paths at the smoking area behind Kkuline, Yoon Jooho would borrow one from Song Hyunsoo.
But if he lost the one Hyunsoo gave him too?
Even if a million-won lighter meant nothing to Yoon Jooho, the thought of him misplacing something Hyunsoo had chosen and bought himself—that would sting.
[What about a cap or sunglasses? He needs to cover his face a lot, so he usually keeps a couple in the car.]
“But… doesn’t he already have a ton of those? He must get gifted all the time too.”
[If you think like that… there’s almost nothing left you can give Yoon Jooho.]
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Hyunsoo nodded bitterly, lightly tapping the bus stop railing with the toe of his sneaker.
“I’ve already found a few caps that might work.”
Not just caps.
He’d scoured every designer website, setting the price filter to just under a million won and screen-capturing everything remotely suitable.
A million won was a fortune to Song Hyunsoo.
And even then, the stylish options were always just out of reach—over budget.
“I’ll send you a few of the ones I saved. Could you maybe pick one for me?”
[Hmm… I mean, it is a gift. Wouldn’t it be better if you chose it yourself…?]
“Hyung, please. You know I have a trashy taste.”
[…]
“I really didn’t want to say this, but… remember what I used to wear back in the day?”
[Hmm…]
“And besides, you know Yoon Jooho sunbae’s style way better than I do. Don’t you?”
[It’s not that picking something’s hard…]
“Is it because you haven’t made up with him yet?”
[Huh?]
“Is that why you’re hesitant to help? Are things still awkward?”
[No. Wait—what? Is he saying we fought?]
“He didn’t say that directly, but I can tell from the way he acts. Honestly, it feels more like he did something wrong to you than the other way around.”
Jin gave an awkward laugh.
“You’d know better than me, but… if you look hard enough, that sunbae does have some redeeming traits. I don’t know what happened between you two, but… you’ve been friends for a long time, haven’t you?”
[Hyunsoo.]
She called his name in a gentle, coaxing tone.
“Yes.”
[Like I said before, we didn’t fight or anything like that.]
“……”
[It’s just… we never saw each other all that often to begin with, you know? We’re not the kind of people who meet up for a drink or message each other just to check in. Neither of us is that warm or expressive. After I moved here, we probably both figured it was just natural to drift apart.]
Isn’t that… just too lonely?
He wanted to say it, but held it in.
Any further and he’d be overstepping.
He just hoped that Yoon Jooho wouldn’t be so alone.
That someone would be on his side.
And if that someone could be Jung Jin, that would be perfect.
Because of him? Song Hyunsoo?
He was just some punk with no education and not much going on in the brains department—what help could he really be?
On the side of the night bus home, an ad with Yoon Jooho’s face was printed across the panel:
『Forget that coffee. From now on, it’s NUBO.』
The fact that this beautiful face—known across the nation—was someone he now entered and exited the house with, someone he acted alongside, someone who had given him this very jumper he was wearing… it all felt like a secret only the two of them shared.
And that thought brought a quiet smile to his face as he boarded the bus.
Out of the six or seven options he’d sent, Jin picked one quickly.
Sitting in the back row, Song Hyunsoo placed the order for Yoon Jooho’s birthday gift.
It was a huge amount of money for him, but he didn’t feel the slightest bit of regret.
Not because he’d once received a designer padded coat worth several million won from Yoon Jooho—no, it wasn’t some kind of transaction.
Back in his hometown, he hadn’t cared about luxury goods.
To him, Nike had been the pinnacle.
He wore worn-out jeans and cheap tees, and still, Hyunsoo had been popular—his face had made him locally famous.
But ever since he came to Gangnam chasing a dream to earn money, maybe get lucky and catch the eye of someone in the industry—he’d been spending money that wasn’t his to spend.
He didn’t want to feel small.
He didn’t want to be looked down on.
Even then, he’d never spent a million won on a single item.
At most, he’d splurged on a T-shirt, a belt, a branded cap—items with a lower entry point.
Those purchases were for show, made to impress others.
And afterward, he always felt hollow, regretful. Like it hadn’t been worth it.
But this time was different.
Even though he bought another luxury item, he felt refreshed.
He even felt proud just like when he’d sent his Dissolve signing bonus straight to his grandmother.
If it had been midsummer, the sky would already be turning blue with morning light.
But the city still lay curled in sleep, wrapped in darkness.
His name had been mentioned in casting articles, but no one recognized him yet.
There were barely any comments and most of them were negative. His follower count hadn’t exploded.
And still, Song Hyunsoo’s heart fluttered with inexplicable hope and excitement.
He couldn’t stop smiling.
It was Jin who picked out Yoon Jooho’s birthday gift.
And he was going to give that gift to Yoon Jooho.
He had no idea that moment would someday become something he’d regret, painfully and deeply.
■
Yoon Jooho’s SNS account, boasting 44.72 million followers, still showed no new updates.
Yet, his most recent post had surpassed 60,000 comments—flooded with birthday wishes from fans around the world.
The languages varied: fluent foreign tongues, broken Korean clearly run through translation software.
That morning, it had been around 40,000 comments; in a single day, he’d gained 20,000 more.
No matter how much people tried to tear him down, Yoon Jooho remained unshaken.
Scrolling through the cheerful comments, Song Hyunsoo let out a small grin and slipped his phone back into the pocket of his padded coat.
Before stepping out of the elevator, he checked his reflection in the mirror one last time.
Clothes make the man, they say. With a designer suit beneath a designer coat, he thought he didn’t look half-bad—almost like a celebrity himself.
Jung-ho had styled his hair with care, and it looked pretty damn good too.
This might actually surprise him.
Maybe he’ll be speechless when he sees me.
Grinning at the thought, he rang the doorbell.
But it wasn’t Yoon Jooho or Manager Bang who answered the door.
It was someone he’d seen once before—a different manager from Look Planning, Chief Cha Kyumin.
“The sunbaenim is waiting for you inside.”
Managers usually addressed older celebrities as sunbaenim, and clearly, he was referring to Yoon Jooho.
Chief Cha led Hyunsoo to the rehearsal studio, which had been transformed into a makeshift dressing room—completely different from how it usually looked.
A clothes rack lined with outfits in garment bags stood along one side.
Several makeup trolleys—bulky as Transformers—were spread open around the room.
Yoon Jooho, wearing a robe, was seated on a high makeup stool in front of a mirror, getting his makeup done.
“Oh, Hyunsoo.”
Spotting him through the mirror, Yoon Jooho was the first to acknowledge him.
Caught off guard by the unfamiliar scene, Hyunsoo bowed awkwardly, eyes darting around.
“Where’s the director?”
“You really come to my place just to ask for Sangho hyung, huh?”
Well… I just needed something to break the awkwardness.
Especially in a place like this.
The fact that Jooho was speaking in formal language only made things feel even more strained.
“He’s over at the party venue, helping with prep.”
“Ah… okay.”
Seeing how timid Hyunsoo looked, Jooho gestured for him to come closer.
As Hyunsoo approached, Jooho reached out, grasping his wrist over the sleeve of the padded jacket and gently tugging him near.
“Chief, this is actor Song Hyunsoo. He’s joining Dissolve with me.”
“Ah, I read the article! So you’re the actor who beat two thousand-to-one odds!”
“Hyunsoo, meet Director Jeon, my makeup artist and over there is Director Shim, my hairstylist.”
Besides the lead artists and assistants clustered around Jooho, two or three others were waiting on the sofa.
These were top-tier professionals—people even casual entertainment industry watchers would recognize by name.
“Hello, directors. I’m Song Hyunsoo.”
“Mm, darling, let’s have a look at you.”
Director Jeon, who was still working on Jooho’s face, gently cupped Hyunsoo’s chin and tilted it upward.
“You look even better in person.”
“Really?”
Jooho responded instead, smiling like he had just been complimented.
Still seated, he crossed his legs, raised the cup in his hand to his lips, and added:
“I told him he needed new profile photos.”
“Mmhmm, definitely. The ones you have now don’t do you justice. Hyunsoo, let me take care of you later, okay? You’ve got the kind of face that just pops with a little work. My hands are itching already—it’s been a while since I got excited like this.”
Once his makeup was done, Jooho stood up and left the rehearsal room, casually asking the artist to take care of Hyunsoo.
Everything happened in a blur.
An assistant came up and took the backpack slung over one of Hyunsoo’s shoulders, then practically stripped off his padded coat and jacket.
By the time he realized what was going on, he was already seated on the stool wearing a salon cape.
He felt like Julia Roberts in the classic movie Pretty Woman.
Once his hair and makeup were complete, Hyunsoo remained seated, dazed, long after everyone else had left the room. He felt like he’d been possessed.
Eventually, he stood up and approached the full-wall mirror.
It was the first time he’d been styled by such high-level professionals and the difference was staggering.
The makeup wasn’t even heavy, barely noticeable, yet… he looked completely different.
It was like someone had redrawn his features with a 4B pencil over an old sketch done in HB.
“You actually look kind of like an actor now, all dressed up.”
Jooho was leaning against the rehearsal room doorway, arms crossed, watching him.
Clad in a sleek black tuxedo, he looked like he’d just stepped off the red carpet or maybe like the prince who hosted a ball every night, hoping Cinderella would return.
“……”
Wouldn’t even Yoon Jooho be surprised at this point?
I thought he might be so stunned the moment he saw me that he’d just stare, completely mesmerized.
But the one who ended up staring, completely mesmerized the moment he saw me, was Song Hyunsoo.