It was like his mind had gone blank—completely wiped clean.
The dream of being lovers, something he’d thought was only natural, shattered into pieces.
And when that collapsed, he had no idea what to do. His body acted before his mind did; he clenched his fists unconsciously and forced a strained smile.
He doesn’t want to create misunderstandings about being gay.
As those words slowly settled in his mind, every little thing he’d done started coming back, one by one.
He’d whined that he couldn’t sleep, acting like he was mentally struggling. At the beach, he’d faked being depressed, pretending to be in pain.
On Hyeon’s birthday, though he’d seemed uncomfortable and restless, Do-yeong had pretended to be asleep just to sneak a hug.
Whenever he wanted physical affection, he’d rest his head on Hyeon’s thigh. He’d bought matching bracelets and rings…
The train of thought spiraled uncontrollably. His eyes widened in shock, landing on his left hand.
The friendship ring—he was wearing it on his ring finger.
Hyeon had told him it belonged on the index finger.
But he had joked about getting a diamond set in it, about engraving their initials, pestering Hyeon to do couple things.
Hyeon’s voice echoed in his head, constantly stopping him:
“Don’t. Just… don’t.”
Yoon Do-yeong’s face turned deathly pale. All the color drained away, his wide eyes fixed forward, completely frozen.
He’d thought it was just nagging.
But Hyeon had really hated it.
His fingers began trembling.
As the memories tangled and unraveled in his mind, he scrambled to calm Hyeon, who was clearly trying to put distance between them.
His panic bled into his words, making them stutter.
“Th-that was just… just… a r-rumor, that’s all.”
—I don’t want to be caught up in gossip, period.
“Even if people talk, I’m the one they’ll target. They’ll enjoy tearing me apart far more than some face they don’t even recognize. The headlines and comments will all be about trashing me, not you.”
—I hate that too.
That too.
That single word dragged back something he’d been pushing aside.
Or more accurately, something he’d buried, too busy spinning a fantasy inside his own head.
Kang Hyeon had always said he’d take any role—but he’d made one exception.
Queer films.
He couldn’t stand them.
And now, thanks to Ji-gyeong’s gay rumor article, timed perfectly with that leaked voice clip, the word gay had been splashed across headlines like wildfire.
His head throbbed.
Even though Hyeon had been clear in how he felt, why had he thought Hyeon would accept him?
No—why had he convinced himself Hyeon liked him back?
Why?
It felt like his brain was being torn apart.
Nothing made sense anymore.
It had never once crossed his mind that Kang Hyeon might not like men.
He had just… assumed he was bisexual.
Why?
Was it because of Ji-gyeong?
Because he had provoked him?
As the memory of Ji-gyeong rose, so did the images of Hyeon staying close to him after the article dropped, worrying over him, taking care of him.
That behavior—surely it meant he wasn’t homophobic.
No, his issue wasn’t with the idea of being gay.
It was the fear of how it might be perceived.
He must’ve seen the vicious comments.
Clenching down on the storm rising in his chest, he forced himself to speak.
“T-that article—no, that situation—it’s nothing. That kind of stuff doesn’t mean anything. We’re just friends. I’ve known you for years. I just… threw a bit of a tantrum because you’re the only friend I’ve got.”
He scrambled to patch together whatever words came to mind, rambling incoherently, his dazed eyes flicking about as he searched for a way out of this.
—Yeah.
“Hyeon-ah, don’t worry about gossip like that. I’ll have the legal team scrub those articles clean.”
He kept repeating himself, trying to calm Hyeon’s worries. But a cold, crushing fear tightened around his chest.
His face turned blue. His fingers went ice cold.
“Hyeon-ah, let’s talk in person, okay? If there’s anything I haven’t handled—articles, comments, whatever—I’ll take care of it.”
—Let’s… just live our own lives for now. When we’ve got some peace of mind, maybe we’ll talk again.
“I do have peace of mind.”
He replied like someone clinging to a cliff’s edge.
Hyeon fired back immediately.
—I don’t.
“Th-then you need to tell me exactly what’s bothering you. What’s making you so uncomfortable?”
—…I’ve got a narrow mind. And that means I get upset over a lot of things.
“You’re… upset?”
—About everything.
Do-yeong’s pupils froze, locked in place.
Everything?
“I don’t get it. I mean… what are you even saying? If it was so upsetting, why didn’t you tell me? I can fix it.”
—You can’t.
The cold tone in Hyeon’s voice—the one that clearly didn’t want to talk anymore—sent Do-yeong spiraling deeper into panic. His voice rose sharply.
“You’ve been fine with me all this time, so why are you suddenly drawing a line?”
—I want to rest.
The words were blunt.
But to him, even that sounded like a shred of hope. He jumped on it.
“R-rest, okay. Let’s rest. Do you want to go to New Zealand with me? Breathe some fresh air, relax—”
—Do-yeong.
His voice cut him off.
Softer than usual. Lower.
He stopped talking, heart racing in fear of what Hyeon might say next.
—I’m sorry I suggested the trip and then didn’t go.
“Th-then… we can still go later. I’ll wait.”
—Being around you… is exhausting.
There it was.
The feeling he had only vaguely feared was now spoken aloud.
His mind twisted in on itself.
His eyes—heavy with dread—lost focus and trembled.
Every past moment, every memory of his behavior, every change in Hyeon’s expression… all blurred together and spun dizzyingly in his head.
Hyeon’s brief, tired looks.
The way he recoiled at his phone screen in the hospital.
The way he started looking past him.
The time he laid his head on Hyeon’s thigh, and Hyeon ran his fingers through his dyed hair.
He remembered nuzzling Hyeon’s hand with his cheek.
But… was Hyeon just touching his hair out of habit?
He couldn’t even remember what Hyeon’s expression looked like when he’d looked down at him that day.
In his memory, he thought Hyeon had said he liked it.
Or rather… had just agreed when Do-yeong said he liked it.
But was it actually a good day for Hyeon?
He’d been worn out from grocery shopping, looked like he had a cold coming on, gotten startled when Do-yeong flushed the bracelet from Ji-gyeong down the toilet…
And had passed out early, drained from dealing with all that.
Suddenly his scalp prickled. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
All of that—was because it was his birthday.
Hyeon had adjusted himself to Do-yeong, for Do-yeong, because it was his day.
Feigning ignorance, he asked softly:
“What exactly… is exhausting?”
—I’ll reach out if I ever feel comfortable around you again.
“What do you mean?”
—You’re not a friend to me.
The words made it hard to breathe.
Each syllable that came through the speaker pierced his chest like a knife.
The pain began somewhere deep—somewhere unreachable—and spread through his whole body, stinging even his skin.
—I’ve got a lot of issues. I feel inferior. I’ve got this deep-rooted inferiority complex.
With that, the role that had won Do-yeong the Grand Prize surfaced in his mind.
The one meant for Hyeon.
The blood drained from him all at once.
He’d thought it had all been resolved. That Hyeon had understood and moved on.
He’d flown to see Hyeon in the middle of the night and said—
“I’m not mad. Just… upset.”
“I don’t think it was your fault. I know how this industry works. I understand it up here, but it just took a while for my heart to catch up. Let’s not bring it up again.”
Now he realized—none of it had been the truth.
Hyeon hadn’t accepted it, not in his mind or his heart.
That’s why he left the agency without looking back. Why he told Do-yeong he had a girlfriend. To create distance.
Now he saw it. All the things Hyeon had said—none of them were real.
He was too stunned to even form a sentence. But then came one more blow through the phone.
—I can’t do this anymore.
His weary voice shattered Do-yeong’s chest completely.
It felt like the world stopped. Like there was no sound left. Not even the sharp ache in his chest registered anymore.
The shock was too great.
Even though he understood what Hyeon meant… he couldn’t accept it.
He had endured so much, adjusted to him, tried to be a friend… but he just couldn’t anymore.
Do-yeong’s lips trembled. His voice came out in a desperate, pleading whisper—just like always.
“I… I can’t accept this. You’re all I have. How can you say this out of nowhere?”
His words shook more and more, overtaken by panic.
“How could you say this over the phone? Let’s meet first. I’ll come to you. If there’s anything you’re upset about—anything—I’ll listen. I’ll fix it. Please.”
He forced himself to sound rational, tried to soothe him.
But Hyeon’s voice came back firm and resolute, though calm.
—I think I finally understand why you never get close to people.
—Because of this… I don’t know if I can trust anyone again.
He must’ve meant the voice clip that Ji-gyeong had leaked.
The betrayal from someone he once considered close.
“Hyeon-ah… No. Ga-yeong noona, Lee Hyun-sook sunbae, CEO Goo Seong-do—they’re all good people.”
—Yeah. They are. I hope you stay close with them.
His voice was quieter than ever.
—I’m sorry for doing this over the phone.
After a faint sigh, his voice no longer wavered.
—I’m hanging up.
“W-wait. Hyeon-ah. Hyeon-ah!”
