After hitting send, Yoon Do-yeong lay back on the bed. He offered a quick thanks to the nurse who looked at him curiously, then closed his eyes. His entire posture radiated a clear desire to rest, and the nurse took the hint, exiting the room without another word. The moment he heard the door click shut, his eyes opened again. While waiting for a reply from Kang Hyeon, he began responding to the messages that had piled up from acquaintances.
[Thank you for the congratulations. I’m doing well, so please don’t worry too much.]
Most of the exchanges ended as quickly as they began—just the usual polite formalities. He treated them like items on a checklist, clearing them out one by one. After that, he returned only the missed calls from his parents and grandfather. While politely addressing their plans to visit the hospital, a new message buzzed in. He hastily wrapped up the call and looked at the screen. Unlike earlier, when his eyes had felt heavy even while speaking with family, now they lit up—bright and full of expectation.
[Take care.]
With that one short message from Kang Hyeon, the vague sense of anticipation he hadn’t even realized he was holding onto evaporated in an instant, like steam from a boiling kettle. In its place came a surge of disappointment, followed by a strange, hollow emptiness that couldn’t quite be put into words. His unfocused gaze drifted to the word “lover” from the message Hyeon had sent the night before. His index finger tapped against the back of his phone—tap, tap. The rhythmic motion showed no sign of stopping.
“One month already, huh…”
Had he been too busy to notice? Could love really start out of nowhere like that? Hyeon had always been the cautious type…
And they were already close enough to be staying at a hotel?
Do-yeong took a deep breath to calm the sudden flare of anger—but a sharp pain shot through his ribs, forcing a groan from his lips. Gritting his teeth, he reached for his phone and dialed Baek Ga-yeong, his college senior and the owner of the café where Hyeon worked.
—“Ooooh~! The Grand Prize-winning Yoon Do-yeong himself is gracing me with a call? After sending that totally copy-pasted message earlier, now this?”
“Come on, noona. Why are you twisting the greeting like that?”
—“It’s not because my favorite dongsaeng, Yoon Do-yeong, has yet to show his face at the café I opened by draining my entire life savings and maxing out my loans. And it’s definitely not because you just sent a congratulatory wreath with your name slapped on it since you were too busy filming to show up in person. I’m just really curious why you’d call after a car accident. My brain is so pissed right now it’s making me threaten to hang up unless you tell me exactly when you’re dropping by next.”
Her rapid-fire speech overflowed with wounded pride. Guilt tightened in Do-yeong’s chest, and his voice, already gentle, softened even more.
“Ah, noona… I’m sorry. I was actually planning to visit soon, but I got into an accident. As you probably heard, I’m stuck in the hospital for a few days.”
—“So you won’t mind if I record you saying you’ll visit soon?”
“Not at all. I promise to swing by unannounced within three days of being discharged.”
—“Got it. But are you really okay? When I cracked my ribs, I caught a cold on top of it and thought I was going to die.”
“Ah… that cold. Now that you mention it, I remember you made me bring you soju because you couldn’t go on stage.”
—“Yeah, I was whining nonstop. Anyway, why’d you call? You’re not the kind of guy to phone someone without a reason. I’d be way more impressed if you just came to the café, flashed your face, and let me snap a photo or two. Of course, I’d blow those up to A4 size and proudly display them in the center of the counter with your autograph.”
“Yes, yes! I’ll take photos and sign as many as you want, noona.”
His tone had perked up a little with the banter, but then Baek Ga-yeong suddenly shifted to a syrupy, overly polite tone.
—“So, dear brother, what may I help you with today?”
She now sounded like a customer service rep.
“Um… do you have any female staff at the café?”
—“Me! There’s one female employee right here.”
“No… I mean, you’re the owner, noona.”
—“Nobody sees me as the owner anyway.”
Not in the mood for jokes, he asked more calmly, more directly.
“Do you have any female employees?”
—“Yeah. I’ve got full-time staff and part-timers.”
“Who’s the part-timer working the same shift as Hyeon?”
—“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Just seemed like he might be seeing someone.”
—“Hyeon! Do you have a crush on me or what?!”
She yelled the question to someone in the background, and Do-yeong’s entire body tensed. He let out a quiet sigh. He knew her well—this was her way of saying, Ask him yourself. Sure enough, Hyeon’s voice came through the phone.
—“What did you ask noona?”
“I was just… wondering about your girlfriend. Thought she might be working the same shift as you.”
—“I’ll introduce you later. Don’t tell anyone. I told you—she’s not a public figure.”
His tone was curt, clipped—each word final, definitive. Do-yeong found himself at a loss for words. But he understood. In the early stages of a career, even a single rumor could spiral out of control.
“Alright. I’ll wait until you introduce her. Cough.”
—“You caught a cold?”
“I keep coughing… ugh, my chest hurts.”
—“Get some rest.”
“……”
—“……”
“Cough. Achoo!”
—“Is there anything you’re craving?”
“Street food. I want to try a little bit of everything.”
—“I’ll stop by for a bit this evening.”
“I won’t eat dinner. I’ll wait.”
—“Okay.”
Only after hearing that Hyeon would come by around dinnertime did Do-yeong’s face finally relax. He hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been until the stiffness drained from his body. His whole frame, previously coiled tight, gradually eased. He stared up at the ceiling—and before he knew it, he’d drifted off to sleep. Even as everything faded into darkness, one thought lingered in his mind:
He’d have a lot to say when Hyeon came that evening.
***
“Do you want to be in a relationship?”
At Baek Ga-yeong’s question, Kang Hyeon hesitated, then handed her the phone before replying.
“Yeah.”
“Then you should just date me.”
“Sure.”
His indifferent response made Ga-yeong, who’d been brimming with playful energy, drop her teasing tone and speak more seriously.
“Something happen?”
“He showed up last night. I didn’t want to see him, so I told him I was with my girlfriend.”
She was the only person who truly understood his situation. Bright and energetic, Ga-yeong was playful and social, often mistaken as someone carefree—but in truth, she was careful with her words and surprisingly discreet. Because of her camera shyness, she stuck strictly to theater stages, but she was a well-connected insider with a sharp eye for industry news. She was so perceptive that she often didn’t need a detailed explanation to understand what was going on. Taking the phone from him, Ga-yeong spoke slowly.
“Forget it. Projects fall through all the time, even right before shooting starts.”
“I know.”
“But even knowing that… winning the Grand Prize still makes it hard to swallow, doesn’t it?”
“A little. It’s just… messy right now. I need to clear my head for a bit.”
“Yeah, I figured. Just don’t let it drag on too long.”
“Got it.”
His mind was already made up, but there was no reason to say it out loud in front of her. He was already grateful enough that she’d let him work part-time at her café after she quit acting. Ga-yeong was the type to give generously to those she considered her people—whenever there was word of an upcoming drama or film, she’d pass it along, and she even helped him land small theater roles. That was how, when the part he’d been aiming for went to Yoon Do-yeong, he was able to slide right into another role in the same play.
To repay her kindness, he worked even harder. Of course, she trusted him enough that she didn’t feel the need to be around most days.
“Welcome!”
Just as he was finishing up the morning cleaning, a customer walked in. Kang Hyeon greeted them brightly, consciously putting warmth into his voice. The moment his usual sharp features softened into a smile, he looked surprisingly cute. The café, located in an area dense with office buildings, was already filling up with people grabbing their morning coffee. Ga-yeong busied herself with taking orders while Hyeon hurried to wrap up the cleaning.
Soon after, another staff member arrived. Taking a breather, Hyeon stretched out on the sofa in the break room and closed his eyes for a bit. After a short one-hour nap, he got up, pulled a dress shirt and slacks from a shopping bag tucked in the corner, and changed clothes. It was his usual getup for last-minute auditions between shifts. He tied on his apron and headed back out to the floor, ready to take on the lunch crowd.
Following a customer’s order, he dropped fresh fruit into the blender and pressed the button when—
“Hyeon hyung!”
The café door swung open just as someone called his name. He turned around to look. A tall figure—about 185cm—with eye-catching ash-blue dyed hair stood in the doorway. With his striking features and casual jumper, the newcomer immediately drew the attention of everyone inside. He strode in confidently, while Hyeon’s eyes narrowed in recognition and amusement.
“Guess I’m invisible today.”
Ga-yeong smiled and tossed the comment with a faint grumble.
Feigning surprise, the man with ash-blue hair gasped dramatically.
“Oh! Noona, you were here? You’re so petite I didn’t even notice!”
“I’m 167, for your information. How bad must your eyesight be to miss someone my height?”
“Ooh~ You’re taller than I thought.”
He put on a shamelessly exaggerated look of revelation, prompting a curt response from Hyeon.
“Put on an apron.”
“Whyyy~ I don’t wanna work.”
Lee Ji-gyeong whined in a tone far too cutesy for his broad-shouldered frame. Hyeon, unfazed, poured the blended juice into a cup and nodded toward the table by the window.
“Then don’t. Just sit over there.”
He pressed the call bell for the next customer as he spoke. In the meantime, Ji-gyeong ducked behind the counter, slipped his arms around Hyeon’s slightly smaller waist, and rested his chin on his shoulder. At the affectionate, clingy touch, Hyeon responded with his usual deadpan tone.
“You’re heavy.”
“Aw c’mon~ When Do-yeong hyung does this, you never say he’s heavy.”
“Do-yeong doesn’t put all his weight on me.”
Ji-gyeong lifted his head slightly and looked at Hyeon. It was true—when Yoon Do-yeong leaned on him, almost nuzzling into his shoulder, Hyeon never said a word. But whenever Ji-gyeong did it, he always complained about the weight.
“You’re playing favorites. You only act sweet to Do-yeong hyung.”
Ji-gyeong pouted, his words trailing off with a tinge of complaint as his eyes wandered to the tiny mole on Hyeon’s round earlobe. His gaze, now laced with heat, traced down the curve of Hyeon’s neck and landed on the neatly buttoned collar of his shirt. Sneaking a glance at Hyeon’s face, Ji-gyeong slowly tilted his head, bringing his lips toward Hyeon’s ear.
