Kang Hyeon nodded and reached for Do-yeong’s hand each time the mountain path turned rough. Do-yeong was taller and had better balance than him, but he grabbed Kang Hyeon’s hand eagerly every time. Even when the trail smoothed out, Kang Hyeon extended his hand under the pretense of guiding him, even though it was clear Do-yeong knew the terrain far better. As if seeing through the pretense, Do-yeong smiled gently and took his hand without hesitation.
“Should we just hold hands the whole way down?”
His heart fluttered, but the words that slipped out of Kang Hyeon’s mouth betrayed his feelings—reflexive and hollow.
“Isn’t it weird for two guys to walk around holding hands?”
Do-yeong laughed brightly at the soft, half-whispered remark.
“I like it.”
That pure, radiant smile made it impossible for Kang Hyeon to meet his eyes. Embarrassed, he turned his head away—there was no way he could show the flush burning across his face. But Do-yeong’s gaze had already caught the red creeping across his cheeks and ears. Taking in his flustered look, Do-yeong stepped closer.
“No one can come up here. It’s private property.”
The way he said it, his voice like a breeze brushing past, made Kang Hyeon glance over. Staring into those sparkling brown eyes brimming with life, Kang Hyeon let out a soft chuckle.
“…Do whatever you want.”
No sooner had the words left his lips than Do-yeong gripped his hand tightly. Until then, he had only gently rested his hand atop Kang Hyeon’s, but now the firm grip startled him. It felt like he didn’t want to let go. A sliver of hope bloomed within the secret hypothesis buried deep in his heart. And somehow, that grip also gave him the conviction that even if his confession were rejected, he could walk away unscathed, with dignity.
Sensing something subtle in Kang Hyeon, Do-yeong’s eyes sharpened. His usual edge softened, replaced with something tender—like if you pressed just a little, he might completely fold. Do-yeong gave his hand a light tug. When he felt Kang Hyeon stiffen, unsure and awkward, he gave their joined hands a playful swing. Kang Hyeon’s even voice reached his ears.
“What are you, a kid?”
“When I was younger, I always wanted to try this. I’d see coworkers playing around like this and thought it looked fun.”
Swinging their hands back and forth, they made their way down the now-sunny mountain path side by side. They stepped onto the grassy lawn that stretched toward the distant hanok when—
“You’re up early. Breakfast is ready.”
At the caretaker’s warm voice, Kang Hyeon instinctively let go of Do-yeong’s hand. But to keep things from turning awkward, he patted his back instead. Do-yeong muttered quietly, as if trying to cover the moment.
“Our household staff works too hard.”
“We said we were leaving at nine.”
“Breakfast here’s always Korean-style.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“It’s always seaweed soup.”
“Well, you’re supposed to have that on your birthday. What else would you eat?”
“My birthday was yesterday.”
“Seaweed soup’s good for your health.”
“I know.”
Kang Hyeon chuckled at Do-yeong’s rhythmic tone. After hiking up the mountain before dawn, the steaming rice and hot broth tasted like heaven. While they ate, the caretaker loaded their luggage into the car. Just then, Do-yeong received a call saying the bracelet had arrived and stepped out.
Kang Hyeon chewed slowly, the food tasting unusually good today, as he waited. After a while, Do-yeong returned with a middle-aged woman and held out a bracelet case without preamble.
“Hyeon, how’s this?”
“Huh?”
“The bracelet arrived, and she showed me another design too. This one’s nice, right?”
It was a leather-band bracelet with a chain design accent.
“Isn’t simple the most stylish? Should we make these our friendship bracelets? They’re cheap, too.”
At the word cheap, Kang Hyeon glanced at the woman.
“…How much is it?”
“It’s 300,000 won. It’s a domestic piece, designed by an up-and-coming artist.”
He stared silently at the bracelet. It felt pricey for a leather strap with a bit of 14K gold, but just as Do-yeong said, the design looked refined and upscale.
“Do you have two of them?”
“We can custom-make another.”
Before the words had fully left her mouth, Do-yeong fastened the bracelet onto Kang Hyeon’s wrist.
“You wear it first. I’ll get mine later.”
“Okay.”
Kang Hyeon stared at the bracelet wrapped around his wrist, then pulled out his phone.
“I’ll pay for it.”
“Hyeon… You really have no clue sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Let me handle it.”
“Just pay for the things you mess up. Please give me the account number.”
He waved off Do-yeong with one hand and transferred the money as soon as the woman read out the details. When Do-yeong opened his mouth again, Kang Hyeon cut in quickly.
“Drop it.”
“Drop what?”
“Just eat.”
He pulled Do-yeong down into his seat and pushed his bowl of rice closer. Then he gave a nod to the woman, who seemed to be the shop manager, signaling she could leave. But once again, Do-yeong spoke up.
“Why do you—”
“I’ll return it.”
“…”
At Kang Hyeon’s firm tone, Do-yeong went silent. The woman, sensing the tension, politely excused herself and left the room. Once the door closed, Kang Hyeon brushed Do-yeong’s messy bangs aside and spoke in a calm, yet gentle voice.
“I liked it, so I bought it. Can’t I be the one to pay for our friendship bracelet?”
He patted Do-yeong’s back like he was urging him to eat. After retrieving the bracelet he planned to return to Ji-gyeong, he stood to get water. Watching him, Do-yeong smiled softly. As he scooped up a spoonful of seaweed soup, Kang Hyeon returned, placing a cup of water beside him and calling his name gently.
“Do-yeong.”
“Yeah?”
Kang Hyeon hesitated after calling his name, then gathered his courage and said,
“Once you’re done with your busy schedule… do you want to go on a trip with me?”
“Where to?”
“Someplace quiet. Like the countryside.”
“That sounds great!”
Do-yeong’s cheerful response was exactly what Kang Hyeon had hoped for, and a smile crept onto his face too. But at the same time, a cold anxiety crept in and stiffened his heart.
Once Do-yeong’s schedule cleared—at the end of May—he would confront the end of this one-sided love.
With that resolve, Kang Hyeon took the wheel after breakfast. As they reached the main road, the clock ticked just past 9 a.m., and calls began flooding into Do-yeong’s phone. His agency’s CEO, his manager Chief Choi, his parents, even his grandfather—all calling back to back.
Do-yeong said little in response, mostly listening, his expression blank, his eyes icy. Every now and then, he scoffed under his breath, almost in disbelief. Kang Hyeon had never seen this cold, cynical side of him before. So the moment Do-yeong hung up with that detached look still on his face, Kang Hyeon asked worriedly,
“What’s going on? Why so serious?”
“Things are easy for the adults. Maybe it’s because I’m doing it for the first time, but I’m not good at handling it.”
“It’s about your family?”
“Just a bunch of tangled-up stuff. To be precise, I’m the one getting help. The adults are using me for marketing, and I’m using them to take care of my own business.”
He gave a faint smile—then a message came in. Tilting the phone so Kang Hyeon couldn’t see, Do-yeong scrolled through a stream of photos. His eyes darkened, laced with disgust and all sorts of other twisted emotions. Watching him with growing unease, Kang Hyeon saw him push back his bangs and turn to the window, lost in thought. When the silence grew long enough to be heavy, Do-yeong finally spoke.
“You know… rumors? They’re rarely baseless. Sometimes they’re right—like how people say I’m subtly insufferable.”
“What rumors?”
“There’s a director with a reputation for being sleazy.”
“…”
“There’s a rumor going around that if you sleep with him, he’ll give you a role. I never paid it much attention before, but now… it’s hard to ignore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Apparently, a tabloid reporter’s about to release photos of that director leaving a motel with an unknown actor.”
“To ruin him?”
“Mm… probably.”
“Who is it?”
“Choi Jin-hyuk.”
At the name, Kang Hyeon gripped the steering wheel tighter. He remembered Ji-gyeong handing him a script at his house, excitedly saying it was Choi Jin-hyuk’s next project.
“Did he piss someone off?”
“No. It’s more like they need a scandal big enough to bury a political story. That’s usually how it works in this industry.”
“…Is this connected to your father?”
“Not my father—his party’s lawmakers. And us? We’re celebrities, so we always have to be careful. Always humble. Honestly… it’s exhausting.”
“Yeah.”
Kang Hyeon answered simply, but Ji-gyeong’s frustrated face—clutching that script—lingered in his mind. Then they turned onto the road toward the Mpia office building, and the memory vanished. Because coming down the low hill ahead, hands in his pockets, was a slouched middle-aged man. Kang Hyeon quickly rolled down the window and called out.
“Director! Where are you headed?”
“Oh! Kang Hyeon!”
At the word director, Do-yeong’s eyes followed and landed on the scruffy-looking man. The man eyed the car, then spoke in awe.
“Wow… oh! Yoon Do-yeong!”
“Hello, Director…”
“This is Director Yoo Ji-ha,” Kang Hyeon said, just as Do-yeong greeted him.
“Oh! I heard about you from Hyeon. He said you auditioned for my film.”
Do-yeong flashed a bright smile and replied cheerfully, prompting Yoo Ji-ha to laugh along.
“Wow, I’d heard from the awards ceremony that you and Kang Hyeon were friends, but I never thought I’d meet you in person.”
“Where were you going, by the way?”
“Ah… CEO Goo doesn’t have any food in the house, so I was heading out to get something.”
At the mention of food, Do-yeong clapped loudly.
“We’ve got tons! The car’s full. Right, Hyeon?”
“Yeah. We did some grocery shopping earlier. Hop in.”
Kang Hyeon played along, but a strange sense of discomfort wrapped around him—too familiar, yet uneasy. Do-yeong, who usually avoided getting close to new people and hated socializing, was acting unusually warm toward Director Yoo Ji-ha.
