“…So, what exactly did you see?”
While still on the call, Yoon Do-yeong looked down at his phone as message alerts chimed one after another. There it was—a photo. Kang Hyeon was sitting in the car Do-yeong had thoughtfully given him to make his life easier, wearing the clothes he’d personally picked out, laughing with another man. The man was openly affectionate toward Hyeon, who looked dressed up more than usual.
The memories of choosing those clothes flashed through Do-yeong’s mind like a film reel. Buying one piece because he liked it, then another, then hesitating for hours over the next one because it might seem too much—but buying it anyway. People said you shouldn’t buy shoes for someone you love, but since they weren’t technically lovers, he’d used that excuse and bought them. When the stylist told him they were a size too big, he’d sighed without even realizing it.
Then came the perfect opportunity to give it all to him at once—under the pretext of a wardrobe sponsorship. He’d handed everything over.
Never imagining those very clothes would be worn to meet another man.
The photo showed the man in all black glancing toward the backseat. His face wasn’t clear since he was turned slightly, but his build and features were enough to tell he was a good-looking guy.
“Do-yeong?”
Even though the phone wasn’t on speaker, Hyeon’s soft voice came through clearly. He could hear the concern in it as he called his name, waiting for him to say something. Do-yeong was still trying to find the right words when more photos came in.
This time, Hyeon and the man in black were walking into a spicy braised monkfish restaurant together. The man’s hand was resting naturally on Hyeon’s shoulder—and that was enough to make Do-yeong’s temples throb.
I haven’t even… touched him.
The faint memory of the night they’d lain side by side in bed—when he’d dared to pull Hyeon into a gentle embrace—seemed so far away now. Do-yeong’s brow furrowed sharply.
There wasn’t anyone who’d casually touch Hyeon like that. Hyeon wasn’t the affectionate type, nor was he someone who’d allow such skinship easily.
Staring out at the snow beginning to fall past the window, Do-yeong finally spoke, choosing each word carefully.
“I don’t know if I’m misunderstanding something, but… it really feels like I just got stabbed in the back.”
“What? Did some bad article come out?”
“To be honest… saying it out loud makes me feel pathetic. What I’m doing right now—this—is just miserable. I want to go home. Right now.”
His breathing was still rough from his workout, his voice shaking slightly. Hyeon must have sensed the seriousness, because his tone firmed.
“Take a deep breath. Slowly.”
Following his advice, Do-yeong inhaled deeply. His ragged breathing began to calm, and Hyeon’s voice came again.
“Feeling a little better?”
“A bit.”
“Okay, then tell me slowly what happened.”
“I put so much effort into—”
He stopped mid-sentence as another wave of messages arrived.
“Wait.”
He apologized briefly and checked them. On his screen appeared the face of Lee Ji-gyeong, mid-call. His ash-blue hair had been dyed black, and he was dressed head-to-toe in the same color. His whole aura looked different.
A video came next—Ji-gyeong ended the call with a grim expression and clearly mouthed the words, ‘Ah, f**k.’ More messages followed: footage of Kang Hyeon and Ji-gyeong leaving the monkfish restaurant. Hyeon was seeing Ji-gyeong off to a taxi.
Do-yeong just blinked. If it was Ji-gyeong, it made sense—they’d gotten closer recently. Maybe close enough for a friendly pat on the shoulder. And the photo of the cheek kiss that had bothered him earlier now looked more like they’d just leaned in to talk. Feeling sheepish, he lifted the phone back to his ear.
“…Hyeon, where are you?”
“At home.”
“Eating dinner alone?”
“Yeah.”
His storm of emotions suddenly settled. His eyes drifted over the empty air, searching for words. Finally, he exhaled softly and spoke.
“…I think my emotions have been all over the place lately. I just keep feeling uneasy.”
“Because of what?”
“Maybe because there’s no one beside me.”
“You’ve got your family.”
“Family doesn’t always mean comfort. I didn’t want to worry them, so I moved to a different room tonight.”
“Why’d you move?”
“There are… parts of my life I don’t want to show my parents.”
His tone steadied as his emotions calmed, and Hyeon’s voice also softened. It was warmer than usual.
“You should eat dinner.”
“What about you? What are you having?”
“Monkfish.”
“That sounds good. Did you order in?”
“No, I ate out with Ji-gyeong and brought the leftovers.”
“Why?”
“Ji-gyeong got cast as a supporting couple in Return of the Moon. The company called him in last minute. We had to discuss a bunch of things.”
“…Supporting couple?”
“Yeah.”
Do-yeong recalled Ji-gyeong’s agency—MiraeCom2. In the video earlier, Ji-gyeong had hung up a call, cursed, and looked frustrated, which clashed with what should’ve been good news. The thought made Do-yeong fall silent for a beat.
“That’s great news.”
“Yeah. After all the crap he went through last year, things are finally turning around. He even became an exclusive model for a clothing brand.”
“That so…”
Lost in thought, Do-yeong walked out of the gym while still on the phone. His expression had softened completely—so different from his earlier tension that his bodyguard looked startled. Still in his sweat-soaked gym clothes, he stepped outside. The guard hurried to drape a coat over his shoulders.
As they walked back toward the hotel, people began recognizing him. Do-yeong responded with his usual smooth smile, continuing the call. Hyeon’s voice sounded unusually tender tonight, and it made his steps slower, his expression relaxed, a faint smile playing at his lips.
“Did you meet Ji-gyeong right after filming wrapped?”
“No, I went to see CEO Goo Seong-do first. Remember him? The guy who used to manage Lee Hyun-sook.”
“Oh, Hyun-sook noona! How’s she been? Tell me more.”
He wasn’t actually curious about her—he just wanted to hear more about Hyeon’s day. Hyeon started recounting what had happened, his tone turning more animated when talking about meeting Director Yoo Ji-ha for a private audition.
“I think I overacted a bit.”
“Yeah? What did you do?”
“It was for a murderer role, so I tried to improvise to make an impression. But I was too tense.”
Hearing the hint of regret in Hyeon’s voice, Do-yeong smiled softly as he entered his suite.
“You’ll do fine in the formal audition. You said that director doesn’t care about connections, right? If he gave you feedback and tested lighting, that means something about you caught his attention.”
“…Maybe. I hope so.”
Do-yeong heard the faint sound of chewing over the line. It made his own stomach growl, so he opened the room service menu.
“Hyeon, I’m thinking of ordering dinner. What should I eat?”
“Something light, easy to digest.”
“Want to pick for me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he snapped a photo of the menu and sent it. Hyeon made a thoughtful hum, clearly unimpressed by the options.
“Tell your manager to get sushi.”
“Okay.”
He texted his manager and continued.
“This’ll be my first proper meal today.”
“You haven’t eaten at all?”
As he talked about his day, Do-yeong absentmindedly brushed at the sweat on his skin and headed to the bathroom. He popped in his earbuds so he could keep talking and started a quick shower.
“I can hear running water.”
“Washing off my makeup.”
Turning the water pressure down, he described everything that had happened since landing at the airport. After finishing, he came out wrapped in a bathrobe, set the sushi down, and snapped another photo to send.
“When we go to the beach, let’s get sashimi.”
“And grilled clams.”
“I like flounder sashimi the most.”
“Yellowtail’s good too.”
“Then let’s get an assorted platter. Oh, and raw squid’s great too. What about octopus?”
“I’ll go with squid.”
“Spicy fish stew sounds good too.”
“How about crab stew? Or gegukji?”
“Gegukji?”
“You haven’t tried it? It’s got cabbage in it.”
“I think I might’ve…”
“Let’s have it when we go to the coast.”
They talked like that until Do-yeong finished eating the sushi.
“I should sleep early tonight.”
“Already getting ready for bed?”
“I’ve got to clean up the café before the profile shoot tomorrow morning.”
“Guess I should turn in early too.”
“Yeah. You didn’t sleep much last night either, right? Go lie down.”
“Hyeon, I’m not sleepy yet. Sing me something—it’s been a while.”
“Just listen to some music.”
“Then release your own album.”
“No one would buy it.”
“I would. I’ll show you what peak financial devotion looks like.”
Hyeon’s low laugh echoed through the speaker. Then, without warning, his voice began to sing.
It wasn’t polished, just calm and steady—a quiet melody that slipped straight into Do-yeong’s ears. That low, gentle tone spread through his whole body like warmth. Lying on the bed, he let himself sink into it, eyes closed.
When the song ended, Hyeon spoke softly.
“Now sleep. Don’t dream, don’t wake up in the middle of the night. When you open your eyes, see the blue sky and start your day feeling fresh.”
Do-yeong closed his eyes, saying nothing, listening to the tenderness in his voice. On the other end, Hyeon lingered, whispering in a low, soothing tone—like a spell.
“Sleep well. Deeply. Don’t think about anything.”
Still with his eyes closed, Do-yeong brought the phone to his lips. His mouth brushed against the glass lightly, leaving a faint kiss before he murmured,
“Call me when you wake up.”
“You call me.”
A wistful smile curved across Do-yeong’s face. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep yet, but the drowsiness hit him all at once. The phone slipped from his limp hand.
The call timer had already passed three hours and thirty minutes.
