Chapter 96
“A flea, really…”
Though indignant, Cheong-yeon couldn’t refute it. From Do-heon’s perspective, he probably did look like nothing more than a flea.
—Is there anything else you want to eat?
“Why? Are you going to buy it for me?”
—If that’s what you want, there’s nothing I can’t provide.
Though Cheong-yeon had tossed out the question meaninglessly, Do-heon answered with complete seriousness, as if he would really buy it.
“I need to diet, so I’m fine. I also have the lunchbox I brought from the shooting location.”
—If you think of something later, just call the house. I’ll have them make it for you.
“…”
At his unusually gentle tone, Cheong-yeon couldn’t find words to respond and kept his mouth shut.
Did Do-heon realize that what he was saying now didn’t match their sponsorship relationship at all?
Perhaps, like himself, Do-heon was also firmly bound by the habits of when they were married, unable to completely break away—that thought crossed Cheong-yeon’s mind.
—Yoo Cheong-yeon?
When Cheong-yeon didn’t answer for a while, Do-heon called his name. That reminder made Cheong-yeon belatedly recall why he had called Do-heon in the first place.
“If I want something to eat, I can just buy it here. Why would I go through the trouble of calling to have it made? Oh, by the way…”
Cheong-yeon looked down at the paper in his hand and moistened his dry lower lip with his tongue.
“I was just looking at the brand list Secretary Shim gave me.”
—And?
“This is… payment for sleeping with you during your last rut, right?”
Cheong-yeon couldn’t understand why he wanted to confirm this when he already knew the answer.
—If the word ‘payment’ sounds aesthetically displeasing, how about ‘gift’? Is that still not good?
As expected, Do-heon didn’t bother denying that it was payment for sex.
“How could it not be good? It’s so good that it’s a problem. But looking at this, I’m curious how long you plan to keep giving me such excessive things. Our contract doesn’t specify an end date.”
—End?
“We can’t stay like this forever. We’ll have to stop eventually…”
—Why are you talking about this?
Do-heon interrupted Cheong-yeon mid-sentence, sounding perplexed.
—This isn’t a relationship you can end from your side.
His voice carried a coldness that made all the gentle atmosphere that had existed until now seem like a lie.
“Every contract normally has an expiration date. That’s what I’m curious about.”
—This is something only I can end when I want to.
“…”
Though there was nothing incorrect about his statement, hearing it directly still brought Cheong-yeon’s mood down.
“…I understand.”
Cheong-yeon’s voice deflated like a punctured balloon.
What did Do-heon want to gain from this? Simple amusement during the sponsorship process? Or perhaps satisfaction from being able to control the career of Yoo Cheong-yeon, who had dared to kick him aside and leave the house on his own?
He wasn’t sure. But one thing was certain: as long as Do-heon held the key, Cheong-yeon was simply in a position to be controlled.
—We’ve arrived, Director.
After the driver’s faint voice, Do-heon dryly announced:
—I have to go now. See you next Friday.
“Yes. See you Friday.”
Cheong-yeon swallowed his complicated feelings and replied.
*
Heading up to the celebrity-exclusive floor of the shop with a script in hand, Cheong-yeon hesitated. He had made direct eye contact with Song Hee-jun, who had arrived earlier.
“…”
Shooting couldn’t possibly be scheduled every day, so why did these coincidences happen so frequently?
Feeling his energy drain already, Cheong-yeon quickly turned his head in the opposite direction. He should change shops.
“Cheong-yeon, hello.”
“Oh, it’s been a while.”
“Why are you pretending not to know me after making eye contact? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
When Song Hee-jun approached him, the attention of the staff around them converged on the two.
“Ah, was it that obvious?”
The staff member who came to guide them to their seats, assuming the two were close friends, assigned Cheong-yeon to the seat right next to Song Hee-jun.
There were partitioned seats available, so why here of all places?
Cheong-yeon stared blankly at the clueless staff member. Judging by their unfamiliar face, they seemed to be a new recruit.
“You’d have to be an idiot not to notice. Let’s at least exchange greetings. You weren’t this bad even during our music show promotions.”
Suddenly bringing up the past. Cheong-yeon swallowed the bitter remarks rising in his throat and smiled.
“Sorry. I’m a bit on edge because of the drama shooting.”
Just then, the staff member who usually attended to Cheong-yeon brought his usual tea. Cheong-yeon sipped the warm tea while explaining today’s shooting style.
“Ah, that drama where you have a minor role. It hit 8% ratings.”
As soon as the consultation with the staff ended, Song Hee-jun immediately showed off his knowledge.
“11%.”
“What?”
“The recent ratings are 11%.”
“Ah, right, 11%.”
“And it’s not a minor role but a supporting role.”
“I’m still in the middle of shooting mine. It’ll be a while before it airs.”
“Oh. Right. I wasn’t curious, but… fighting.”
Cheong-yeon gave a forced smile and raised his fist. While he was thinking about how satisfying it would be to actually punch Song Hee-jun with that fist, Min Hye-rin fortunately arrived with the outfits.
As the conversation had started to become awkward with nothing to say, Cheong-yeon was particularly glad to see her.
“Oppa! Later you’ll wear this jacket over the shirt. I’ve already checked, but I’ll do a final check for loose threads after you’re fully dressed.”
“Thanks, Hye-rin.”
“Oh right. By the way, Oppa. You haven’t been drinking today, have you?”
“Drinking? Why would I drink before a shoot? Did they detect something on my breath?”
“I don’t know either. The manager asked me to check earlier. He said you shouldn’t drink for a while… Anyway, this is the outfit! What do you think?”
Min Hye-rin carefully took out the sponsored luxury brand jacket and displayed it in front of Cheong-yeon. It was a simple gray design without any particular distinctive features.
“Wow, is this for real?”
Before Cheong-yeon could respond that it matched well with the scene he was going to act in today, Song Hee-jun’s voice cut across the shop.
“What’s so impressively real about it?”
“It’s exactly the same as mine. Can’t you see?”
At the clearly sarcastic tone, Cheong-yeon and the staff turned their attention to Song Hee-jun.
Oh great, I stepped in it.
Cheong-yeon inwardly lamented. As Song Hee-jun had pointed out, the outfit Min Hye-rin had brought for today’s shoot was indeed the same as what Song Hee-jun was wearing.
“…You’re right, it’s really the same design. How strange.”
Cheong-yeon acknowledged lifelessly.
“There are only a few of these in Korea and they’re hard to get. What do you think about that, Cheong-yeon?”
“Oh, congratulations.”
“That’s it? Are you really going to wear that?”
“I just wear what I’m given.”
Song Hee-jun took a deep breath as if he’d caught something, and turned his body completely toward Cheong-yeon.
“This isn’t right, is it? When I asked for help organizing my clothes, taking my wardrobe list right after that is against business ethics. Should I call over my stylist?”
Seriously, what nonsense is this now?
“I couldn’t care less about what you wear, why would I steal your list? Who do you think you are?”
Cheong-yeon frowned as if tired. Unlike Cheong-yeon’s annoyed reaction, Song Hee-jun looked determined to press the issue.
“The saying ‘old habits die hard’ is spot on. You were like this during our music show promotions too.”
“Hee-jun, that’s your delusion.”
“Do you need to ask everyone here whose story is more credible before you’ll admit it?”
“Did you patent this design so only you can wear it? So what do you want me to do?”
“Change your clothes.”
Cheong-yeon rubbed his forehead as if exasperated.
“Honestly, you’ll feel uncomfortable too. It’s cleaner for both of us.”
At this forced request disguised as mutual benefit, Cheong-yeon turned to look at Min Hye-rin.
Min Hye-rin, who had been listening to the entire conversation nearby, was already flushed with anger, her lips trembling. Her hand, held straight at her side in an attention position, was giving Song Hee-jun a quiet middle finger.
Suppressing a laugh, Cheong-yeon called to Min Hye-rin.
“Hye-rin, bring me a different outfit.”
“What?”
“We have a few more outfits in the van, right?”
“Oppa!”
“Thinking about it, Hee-jun has a point. It’s better to remove awkwardness early. I feel embarrassed about wearing matching clothes too. Just bring me something else.”
“No, Oppa! Why would you…!”
Min Hye-rin, who was about to protest while glaring at Song Hee-jun, seemed to understand Cheong-yeon’s intention and abruptly closed her mouth mid-sentence.
“…I’ll bring it right away, please wait a moment.”
Min Hye-rin went back downstairs with the jacket still in hand. Song Hee-jun seemed quite satisfied with this, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders.
“Hey, your stylist has quite the temper. Did you see her eyes?”
When Cheong-yeon ignored him and opened his script, Song Hee-jun continued undeterred.
“At least you know to be embarrassed even though you’ve made a bit of a name for yourself lately.”
“You don’t avoid dung because you’re afraid of it, but because it’s filthy.”
“Right, keep winning those mental victories. That’s what you’re good at.”
“…”
“But no matter how desperate you were, how could you join an agency run by gangsters? If you had told me, I could have introduced you to a few places.”
Should I have called my manager instead? Then he’d shut up. It’s so noisy with all this chattering that I can’t focus on the script I need to review today.
Why did they put me in the seat next to him, with no way to escape?
It’s all because of that clueless new hire. Cheong-yeon irritably flipped through the script pages.
“Oppa! Haa, haa. I brought different clothes!”
Min Hye-rin rushed back up to the shop, panting heavily, though it seemed like less than a minute since she had gone down. She appeared to have swept up all the spare clothes they kept in the van.
The loud rustling of the transparent covers over the clothes drew the attention of everyone in the shop, including Song Hee-jun’s staff, back to Cheong-yeon’s seat.
“…Huh? Isn’t this cardigan unavailable in Korea? I think I saw it in last week’s Paris collection video.”
The new staff member who had guided Cheong-yeon to his seat approached with sparkling eyes, looking amazed.
“You have a good eye. All these outfits are from this season.”
Min Hye-rin explained precisely, as if making sure Song Hee-jun could hear.
“Wow… That’s amazing! Stylist, did you see this? They’re all new items.”
“Cheong-yeon oppa. Which one would you like to change into?”
Min Hye-rin stepped between Cheong-yeon and Song Hee-jun and busily displayed the outfits.
As the elongated sleeves kept brushing against Song Hee-jun’s arm, he scowled intensely.
“Excuse me. You keep hitting my arm.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was being careful because these clothes are expensive, so I didn’t look behind me. I apologize.”
“Hye-rin, you don’t need to go that far. I’ll just wear the middle one.”
“Yes, Oppa. I’ll change the outfit to the Prada jacket in the middle.”
“Hee-jun, how about this one? It doesn’t overlap with your outfit this time, right? Please confirm.”
Cheong-yeon deliberately stretched out his arm and poked Song Hee-jun’s shoulder.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
