Kang Hyeon’s chest ached at the thought of using Yoon Do-yeong to complete his character. But at the same time, he felt a strange sense of relief—like he was finally doing something right. A faint smile tugged at his lips. Filming wrapped a little past lunch, and as he greeted the staff, his eyes met Yoon Do-yeong’s. There was something gloomy in Do-yeong’s gaze.
“…You like playing with people’s hair, huh.”
The words, almost too soft to catch, slipped from Do-yeong’s mouth like a sigh. He gave a small wave, as if to say take care, and walked past with a bitter smile.
Kang Hyeon had a gut feeling—Do-yeong had realized that the performance he’d just given was layered with their shared memories and experiences. Panic flickered through him, and he instinctively turned to look. When their eyes met, Do-yeong offered a faint smile, like he was trying to mask his emotions. That smile carved a cold, ashen pit in Kang Hyeon’s chest.
But it wasn’t like he could approach him the way he used to. He clung to his composure and tried to turn away. Still, the guilt of using their past kept grabbing at his ankles. After hesitating, he quietly stepped away, careful not to get in the way of the production. Before leaving completely, he gave a small, late wave to Do-yeong, who hadn’t looked away once.
“Lunch is late. What do you want to eat?”
At Chief Choi’s question, Kang Hyeon glanced at the mountain of empty snack bags in the car. He hadn’t touched a thing. The wrappers were clear signs that Chief Choi and Yoo Kyung-mi had polished everything off, knowing he had no appetite.
“I’ll just go home. You said you’re heading to your parents’ place, right?”
“Fine by me.”
“Could you drop me off there?”
Yoo Kyung-mi gestured toward the station just ahead—looked like she had plans. After she got out, Kang Hyeon leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closed from exhaustion. He dozed off, and by the time he came to, they were already near his place.
“Take your makeup remover.”
“Yeah.”
“And hang on to that outfit. You forget to return it, you’re in trouble.”
Only then did it hit him—he hadn’t even changed out of costume.
“Right. Thanks—get home safe.”
He gave a bright answer and got out of the car. Waving at Chief Choi as the vehicle turned around, he headed inside. After wiping off his makeup and stepping into the shower, the doorbell rang. There was no one he was expecting. He ignored it and kept showering—until it rang again.
He quickly rinsed off, threw on something, and checked the intercom. Two students stood there. Something about it didn’t feel right. He just stood there, watching. And then the doorbell rang again.
“Is this Kang Hyeon oppa’s place?”
“…”
“We live in the house down the alley. You used to deliver food to our place.”
“…Ah, yeah.”
The moment he gave an answer, one of the girls let out a cheer.
“We’re loving your drama! Could we get your autograph? We brought you cake!”
“…Sorry. I can’t.”
“Could you at least take the cake?”
“I’m really sorry.”
He turned off the intercom and stood there for a while, stunned. After a beat, he headed toward the kitchen to make some ramen. While eating and reviewing his script for the scene two days from now, the doorbell rang again. He tensed and turned toward the intercom. A man was standing there.
“Who is it?”
“Delivery.”
“I didn’t order anything.”
“This is 102, right? Someone ordered braised short ribs.”
“I didn’t.”
The man checked the receipt again and said, “I’ll just leave it here.”
Kang Hyeon hesitated for a long moment before opening the door. He leaned out to see who’d sent it—and was met with a small chorus of cheers.
“It’s Kang I-chan!”
“Whoa… Isn’t that the guy who used to deliver around here?”
“It’s really him.”
He flinched at the sight of people gathered in the hallway. He quickly shut the door. Another knock followed right after.
“Kang I-chan-ssi, your food’s at the door!”
The bright voice deliberately calling out his drama character’s name made his stomach sink. He let out a heavy sigh and, unsure what to do, called CEO Goo Seong-do.
—Hey, Hyeon-ah.
“There are people at my place, ringing the bell over and over. What should I do?”
—What? Are they sasaengs?
“No, not like that. I think some people recognized me from my delivery days. They’re even sending food. I don’t know how to handle this.”
—Don’t eat it. It might be from a fan, but you never know.
“I didn’t take it.”
As he answered, he suddenly recalled how Yoon Do-yeong had accepted Valentine’s chocolates but never ate them.
—Just… hang tight for now. Hyun-sook still has filming to do. I’ll look for a temporary place for you. Pack the essentials.
“Can’t I just stay at the agency for a while?”
—No way. If word gets out an actor’s staying there, it’ll be a nightmare.
He could hear commotion on the other end—Goo calling out to Hyun-sook and answering staff directions. It was obvious how busy he was, so Kang Hyeon wrapped it up quickly.
“Sir, please take care of Sunbae first. I’ll call Chief Choi and find a solution, then I’ll get back to you.”
—Alright, sounds good.
As soon as he hung up, he called Chief Choi. This time, there was no hesitation.
—I’ll send someone. No way you can keep living there now that your address is out. Stay at a hotel for now, and we’ll find a secure place.
“Hotels are expensive. I’ll just stay at a motel.”
—Absolutely not. That’s how rumors start. I can’t come right now—I’m on the highway heading to my parents’ place. I’ll send someone else.
“Got it. Thank you. Sorry for bothering you during your break.”
—Don’t mention it. This is part of the job.
As the doorbell rang again, Kang Hyeon let out another long sigh. He checked the intercom. A woman was standing there with a single rose. He shut the screen off, packed a change of clothes and his script into his usual bag. More knocking followed.
“Delivery!”
He sighed again, hard.
This had never happened before. Why was it all happening now? Had someone seen him getting out of the van after filming?
He pulled up a real estate app on his phone, convinced he’d have to move. When he returned to the table, the ramen was swollen and soggy. He dumped it into the sink and waited for Chief Choi’s call.
Soon, there was commotion outside the front door, followed by a call from someone unexpected—Kang Hoon, his former agency’s CEO.
—I’m outside. Come out now.
“…Right now?”
—Hyeon-ah.
“Hyeon-ah.”
He could hear Kang Hoon’s voice both through the phone and just beyond the door. Then came rhythmic knocking and a firm command to come out. Kang Hyeon slung his bag over his shoulder and carefully opened the door.
Kang Hoon was flanked by a male staffer—someone who also helped out Yoon Do-yeong—blocking the path on either side. Locals were crowding the hallway, watching with curiosity. With their help, he made it out of the building, only to be met by an even larger group of students and neighbors.
“It’s him, it’s really him!”
“He really lives here!”
“Kang I-chan!!”
Some even called out his character’s name, cheering with excitement. The crowd grew fast, people flooding in from nearby alleys, their curiosity drawing them like magnets. The van wasn’t far, but the alley had become a blockade. He was trapped.
A blaring car horn cut through the noise.
Everyone turned.
Yoon Do-yeong was there, face sharp, eyes unyielding. He marched through the crowd, grabbed Kang Hyeon’s arm, and pulled him close, shielding him with his body. His sudden, decisive movement startled everyone around them, pushing people back.
Do-yeong didn’t flinch. He led him straight to the van and shoved the door shut.
A beat later came the delayed reaction—gasps and shrieks.
“It’s Yoon Do-yeong!!”
“Whoa~! It’s Kwon Ji-sang!”
Cheers and chatter erupted. Some pounded on the van windows, screaming with excitement.
“Looks like you’re a real star now.”
Kang Hoon, seated in the front passenger seat, chuckled warmly. The staff member in the driver’s seat quickly pulled out.
“If something like this happens, you need to call me first. Not Goo.”
“My agency’s Mpia.”
“I know. So what’s your next move?”
Kang Hyeon answered calmly, though the question made his gut twist.
“I’ll stick to the contract. No matter what.”
“Unbelievable. You can’t even handle this, so why stay there?”
“This just happened today. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“There’s a van coming and going here—how could people not notice? If they saw it during the day, of course it stood out.”
Before he could go on, Yoon Do-yeong cut in sharply.
“Hyeon can make his own decisions. Goo didn’t help him expecting anything in return. And now that Goo’s overwhelmed, shouldn’t we give him time to adjust?”
Kang Hoon let out a displeased grunt, about to argue, but Do-yeong turned to Kang Hyeon and said clearly,
“You too, Hyeon—make your stance clear. That’s how CEO Goo will know he needs to hire people. He’s trying to build a system.”
“…Yeah.”
Kang Hyeon gave a small nod, sighed, and set his bag down on the floor. Do-yeong handed him a pouch drink with a straw poked in.
“It’s herbal tonic. You’ve been through a lot—drink it.”
“…”
“It’s good for recovery. You’re probably shaken—drink up.”
Kang Hoon snorted at that.
“You could’ve just said it was a health tonic. No need to dress it up.”
