Kang Hyeon’s trembling breaths landed softly atop Yoon Do-yeong’s head. Unlike his own burning emotions, Kang Hyeon slept with an utterly serene expression. That peaceful look offered Do-yeong some comfort, but at the same time, a wave of disappointment and emptiness washed over him.
The tips of Yoon Do-yeong’s eyebrows drooped, but a sharp blue glint flickered in his eyes. The craving for something he couldn’t have surged within him, making his gaze almost glow.
I shouldn’t have held him.
It felt so good… What the hell am I supposed to do now?
The truth loomed at the edges of his lips and flooded his mind. His insides twisted with regret, and in a flash, that regret transformed into jealousy. The lover of the person lying with his head resting on Do-yeong’s arm—someone Do-yeong had forcibly wedged into his own embrace—wouldn’t sneak around stealing affection like a thief. They’d ask for it proudly and receive it openly. A woman immediately came to mind.
Baek Ga-yeong.
He couldn’t be sure it was her, but no matter how he turned it over in his head, she was the only one that fit. As the memory of the front door passcode surfaced, a frown crept across his brow and hardened his expression even more.
February 13… That’s my birthday…
When’s Ga-yeong noona’s birthday again?
He couldn’t remember. Pushing the thought aside, he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket and cautiously searched Lee Ji-gyeong. June 20.
Then who the hell is it?
As his mouth went dry, Kang Hyeon stirred in his arms and shifted his position. Do-yeong quickly shut his eyes and feigned sleep, letting his body go slack. But inwardly, he was frozen stiff, terrified that Kang Hyeon might wake up.
Light briefly seeped through the blackout curtains before disappearing again. In that fleeting moment, Kang Hyeon’s exhausted state was clear—he exhaled deeply, still lost in sleep. Though his lips were chapped, the inside of his slightly open mouth was moist, and the tip of his tongue peeked out with a soft flick before vanishing again.
Do-yeong’s gaze locked on those lips. He stared, unblinking, engraving the image into his pupils. A strange sadness welled up inside him, making his eyes glisten. Memories tied to the labels friend, college classmate, child actor—all of it twisted into something unfamiliar.
The very act of desiring someone who already had a lover made him feel pathetic. Emotions clashed inside him, boiling and freezing in turn, leaving him utterly disoriented. And yet, he didn’t look away from Kang Hyeon’s face. Even as his arm went numb, he didn’t pull it back.
Do-yeong stayed wide awake the entire night.
When it was finally time to leave, he carefully rose from bed. He pulled the blanket up to Kang Hyeon’s neck, then quietly stepped out with heavy, reluctant feet. The chill of the winter dawn cooled his flushed face and steadied his racing heart.
Staring up at the starless sky, Yoon Do-yeong forced his weary legs forward. Chief Choi, waiting in the car, stepped out to open the door for him. The drive to the airport felt endless as they pierced through the dark. Seeing couples in the early-morning travel crowd made his pace slow. There was even a family carrying a sleeping child. Do-yeong’s eyes swept over them, then quietly moved forward again.
He had always assumed he’d fall in love with a woman, get married, and have kids. Being an only child was lonely, so he had promised himself he’d have at least three children. That’s why whenever someone asked about his type, he always answered: A woman who loves kids.
He preferred someone on the fuller side over someone too thin. A gentle face that looked warm and easy to talk to. A bright, cheerful smile was enough.
But no one ever truly caught his eye. Sure, he’d admired some models or actors in magazines, but never in a way that sparked real attraction.
That didn’t mean he’d never dated. A few times—maybe a month, two at most. He’d gone out with a few people who said they liked him. If they wanted to date, he said okay.
They watched movies, grabbed meals. Went to exhibits, had coffee.
What else did we even do…?
He couldn’t remember. He didn’t even know why things ended, but he always got dumped. He wasn’t even that sad, though Baek Ga-yeong would buy him consolation drinks. Hyeon would just say, “Told you so,” and dryly offer advice.
“You’re supposed to spend weekends with your girlfriend.”
“Stop going to movie theaters all the time—do something else.”
“Throw in a surprise once in a while.”
Then, as if regretting something, Hyeon would mutter:
“There’s so much I’d want to do…”
“I’d give them everything I could.”
And he would.
When Hyeon got a lover, he’d spend every weekend with them, plan cute dates, put together thoughtful surprises—just like he did with that New Year’s hotel event.
Yoon Do-yeong clenched his fist without realizing it.
That woman—the one who could call Hyeon her lover—she could hold him like this any time she wanted. Or rather, Hyeon would hold her.
Baek Ga-yeong’s face hovered in front of his eyes.
With a long sigh, he sent her a message.
Yoon Do-yeong clasped his hands together tightly.
“Please… Please don’t let it be her…”
He boarded the plane, praying over and over with everything he had. As soon as they landed, he turned on his phone. Messages from the carrier and embassy flooded in—but one regular message stood out, sent at dawn.
[February 19.]
Baek Ga-yeong’s reply made Yoon Do-yeong’s heart plummet.
***
“So you must’ve been upset, huh… But Chairman Yoon’s sponsorship is confirmed!”
Kang Hyeon could barely breathe as the agency CEO chased him all the way to the indoor set. Uncomfortable, he shifted on his heels and bowed his head.
“I’m sorry. I have no intention of renewing.”
“Do-yeong’s not renewing either!”
The flustered CEO finally let his true feelings slip. His voice got so loud that even staff and actors far across the set turned to look. Kang Hyeon calmly met the CEO’s despairing gaze.
“Thank you for everything until now.”
He didn’t want to drag this out. But as soon as he offered that farewell, the CEO bared his teeth, eyes blazing.
“You really gonna stab me in the back like this? Do you know how much I did for you? Kept you in auditions back to back so you’d never run out of roles. Even gave you a manager for minor supporting parts. This role? I pushed you into it with the director!”
The CEO took a step closer, voice rising.
“What did you say to Do-yeong to turn him against me? Did you tell him I stole a role from you to give to him? That part was never even confirmed! Just getting a script doesn’t mean it’s official! Just because you meet with the production team, it doesn’t mean you’ve got the part! Why the hell would you twist it like I robbed you to give it to him?!”
Kang Hyeon raised a hand, signaling for the CEO to calm down.
“Please. Take it easy.”
“Take it easy?! You think I can take it easy right now? What the hell did you say to make him act like this?!”
Kang Hyeon stayed composed.
“Please don’t contact Do-yeong directly. It’d be better to go through Chief Choi—he’s acting as his manager now.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what Do-yeong plans to do next. But he said he’s going back to working with Chief Choi, who used to be with him during his child actor days. If you speak with him, I’m sure things can be smoothed over. Maybe not an extension, but you can still handle agency business properly.”
“…”
As he thought about Do-yeong leaving silently at dawn, Kang Hyeon added,
“You know Do-yeong—he struggles with new people. But he’s responsible when it comes to work. Approach him from a business angle, and he’ll listen.”
“…Got Choi’s number?”
“I don’t. Just ask Do-yeong directly. He’ll probably give it to you.”
The CEO glared suspiciously, then made a call on the spot.
“Hey, Do-yeong. It’s me.”
Before he could even finish, a voice burst from the other end.
“No, it’s not about the contract extension!”
He glanced at Kang Hyeon, then spoke again.
“There’s still a few months left. We’ve got to keep working past that, right? Got a fashion show invitation, some CF deals lined up. You can’t just cut everything off like that… Oh, oh! Chief Choi?”
His eyes lit up.
“Great, great. Send me his contact.”
After hanging up, he turned to Kang Hyeon with a sheepish look.
“You know how it is. That drama blew up. The profit we’re making from Do-yeong alone is like 70% of the company’s revenue. This is just the beginning. And now it’s over after just a few months. I was desperate, man. You get it, right? Gotta use Do-yeong to help get the rest of our actors into productions, too…”
Kang Hyeon bowed politely at the CEO’s half-apologetic, half-explanatory tone.
“I’ll come by after the New Year holidays to say goodbye.”
“Ah, sure.”
The CEO, visibly displeased, waved to the stand-in manager and stylist from afar.
“Let’s go.”
With the contract terminated and the drama shoot wrapped, everything between them and Kang Hyeon was officially over. Even though the discussion with Do-yeong had ended on good terms, the CEO still led them to his car, shooting Kang Hyeon a lingering glare full of resentment.
“Hyeon, would you mind dropping me off in front of Edith’s boutique like yesterday?”
The stylist’s sudden request broke the tense mood. Yesterday, on their way to the office, the manager had dropped her off at the studio. But now she was asking Kang Hyeon directly, which confused him. She noticed and explained like it was obvious.
“Oh… Do-yeong said you could keep everything he sponsored. He said it’s all settled…”
“What?”
“The sports car’s a sponsored item too… So, it’s yours now.”
Stunned, Kang Hyeon immediately called Yoon Do-yeong.
—Hyeon, are you done shooting?
“Why are you making me return the sponsorships?”
—Wasn’t that all taken care of yesterday?
“What was?”
—The gifts…
