Kang Hyeon’s eyes filled with concern at the seemingly nonchalant remark.
“Has it gotten worse?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Back then, you could sleep a little easier after a can of beer.”
“Doesn’t work anymore.”
Yoon Do-yeong swallowed the words ‘Maybe the shock was too much’ and walked out the door with a bitter smile. He had always been the type to take a long time falling asleep. When even a beer didn’t help, he’d call. They’d talk softly about their day until he drifted off. Since he didn’t have much to say, he usually just listened and occasionally sang a lullaby-like song. That was all.
Soon, the door creaked open again, and the rich scent of coffee filled the room. Yoon Do-yeong handed him a cup and sat beside him. Between them was a bowl of popcorn. Do-yeong held a can of beer, and Kang Hyeon a cup of coffee. They both stared silently at the TV screen.
“If I can’t sleep, can I still call you?”
Unlike usual, Do-yeong’s question came with a sense of restraint. It felt suffocating. Come to think of it, ever since the car accident, they’d only exchanged messages, never phone calls. Do-yeong had noticed it too. That things between them weren’t the same anymore. That they were preparing to drift apart. He brought it up again, out loud.
“…When I’m with my partner, I won’t be able to talk for long.”
“Okay.”
Kang Hyeon stared at the hand cracking open the beer can, then turned back to the screen. Feeling awkward, he grabbed some popcorn and took the beer Do-yeong handed over. Yoon Do-yeong leaned back deeply into the sofa, blinked slowly, then let his head drop. Kang Hyeon glanced at the sleeping man and lowered the volume with the remote. In the quiet, the TV became a soft, white noise. Without turning on the subtitles, he just watched the screen in silence, fully aware of the man sleeping next to him. He took a sip of beer, listening to the calm rhythm of Do-yeong’s breath.
He could’ve just turned his head to look at him, said something like “lean on my shoulder”, but instead, he stayed still—frozen in place like a stone. If his feelings ever settled, and a moment like this came again… maybe then…
Kang Hyeon cut off his own thoughts with a bitter smile and took another sip. If his feelings ever truly settled, he and Yoon Do-yeong might just end up as mere acquaintances. Just people who know each other. Casual at best. The kind of relationship where they exchange polite greetings and talk about the weather. That was probably how it would end.
Suddenly, a loud ringtone shattered his thoughts. He flinched and hurried to answer.
—Hyung, when are you coming?
“Oh, Ji-gyeong. I’m about to head out—”
Kang Hyeon cut himself off mid-sentence and stared at the beer can in his hand. Why was it a beer and not a coffee? He couldn’t even explain it to himself.
“I had a beer just now, so I need to sober up before I go.”
—What? Come on! I’m almost there. It’s freezing outside!
“I’ll give you the door code. Just go in and wait.”
“Tell me the code too.”
A voice suddenly chimed in—Yoon Do-yeong. Kang Hyeon flinched. The guy had definitely been asleep, but now his eyes were wide open. In fact, they were gleaming with a determined spark, like he wasn’t going to back down.
As Kang Hyeon looked at him in disbelief, Do-yeong made no effort to hide his displeasure.
“Why don’t I get the code? You gave it to Ji-gyeong.”
“…”
—Hyung, what are you doing with Do-yeong hyung? Should I come over instead?
With both voices pressing him, Kang Hyeon’s eyes flickered. After a brief pause, he gave his answer.
I’ll call for a driver and head out.”
—A driver? Do you have your car with you?
As Ji-gyeong’s voice filtered through the phone, Do-yeong leaned in close to eavesdrop. Kang Hyeon shifted slightly to avoid him and responded.
“Do-yeong left the car with me so I could drop it off at the agency.”
—Why would you drop it off?
“He asked me to drive him to the airport, but that’s not going to work out anymore.”
“Then what about me? I still need to get to the airport.”
Do-yeong’s voice turned slightly petulant. From the phone, Ji-gyeong sighed audibly.
—Hyung, just stay there. I’ll come to you.
The moment Ji-gyeong finished speaking, Yoon Do-yeong raised his voice.
“I don’t like other people driving my car.”
Silence fell on the other end of the line. Kang Hyeon let out a long sigh.
“Ji-gyeong, I’m heading out now. You know the café near my place? Just wait there and have a cup of coffee.”
“You’re dating Ji-gyeong, aren’t you?”
At Do-yeong’s question, Kang Hyeon’s gaze turned sharp.
“Watch your mouth.”
His voice rose instinctively.
“Someone could hear that and think I’m gay. You know how dangerous baseless rumors can be—why the hell would you say something like that? Don’t you care about how that might make someone feel?”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Can’t you see I’m on the phone? Wait!”
Kang Hyeon, feeling a sting in his chest, lashed out sharply and quickly ended the call.
“Ji-gyeong, I’m heading out now.”
“You’re seriously going?”
The question came the second he hung up.
“Ji-gyeong’s waiting.”
As Kang Hyeon stood up, he paused, bothered by how harshly he’d snapped when asked about dating Ji-gyeong. Looking into Do-yeong’s startled eyes—trying to stay composed but clearly flustered—he apologized.
“Sorry I snapped and cut you off like that.”
“It’s okay. But… did I mess up a lot today?”
“It’s not about messing up. I’ve got my schedule, my relationships, and you’ve been disrespecting that lately.”
“…I’m sorry.”
That small, defeated voice made his chest tighten.
“No, I’ve been on edge lately. Probably overreacted. Safe travels overseas. Let’s have drinks with everyone when you’re back.”
With a gentle smile, Kang Hyeon stepped out of the room. He could feel Do-yeong following him as he descended the stairs to the front door. As if to avoid a proper goodbye, he kept his eyes on his phone and spoke.
“Ask the family driver to take you to the airport. Get some rest.”
He gave a small wave and opened the door. The sound of it closing behind him rang unusually loud, but he didn’t turn around. He never even glanced at the one seeing him off. He didn’t want to. Whether it was a hurt expression or resentful eyes, either would make his own heart ache more—and feel utterly pathetic.
He walked out the gate and down the sloped road.
It was enough to make him think the word “pathetic” suited him perfectly. Overreacting to a dumb joke about dating Ji-gyeong out of fear someone might think he was gay. Heart pounding just from lying on a couch together because the moment felt too precious. Ignoring the effort Do-yeong had put into preparing a medicinal meal with wild ginseng just because he was worried Kang Hyeon wasn’t eating well. Wearing the mask of “just friends,” pretending he didn’t care, acting colder than necessary to hide even the slightest trace of his feelings—disgusting.
He took a deep breath in the middle of all those thoughts. The cold air pierced his lungs, but the heat and turmoil inside him didn’t settle. All this chaos in his head, all because of one simple emotion: liking someone.
Back when they were child actors, Do-yeong had acknowledged him when he landed a role. But he…
“You petty little bastard.”
He spat the insult at himself and headed for the bus stop. The more he thought, the more wretched he felt. The biting cold seeped into his bones as he stared up at the sky. Not a single star above—just an empty black void that mirrored his heart. It made it hard to breathe.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all me. I’m just not enough. I’m sorry.”
Half to himself, half like a confession, he muttered the words and started walking again.
***
The blacked-out van pulled up to the airport in the dead of night, stopping at the gate where the press had already gathered. Despite the late hour, reporters crowded behind the guide ropes. Security blocked them off, and shortly after, a casually dressed male actor stepped out of the van. A bound microphone was handed to him, and a few reporters began asking questions.
There were inquiries requiring clarification—about the hotel lobby incident, compensation for the accident—but most questions were about his future plans. With his professional mask on, Yoon Do-yeong responded seriously, occasionally flashing a relaxed smile.
“You mentioned your close friend Kang Hyeon during the award ceremony. He’s in the same agency, right?”
“Of course.”
Even though the agency had already confirmed it, the reporters still wanted the answer straight from Do-yeong’s mouth.
“Why did you dedicate the award to Kang Hyeon?”
“Hyeon was originally cast for the role—”
His manager nudged him in the side. Stick to the script.
“He helped me a lot during rehearsals.”
A painfully generic answer. As he was about to elaborate, the manager interrupted, saying there wasn’t enough time before the flight and cut the interview short. Do-yeong followed as instructed. Camera flashes burst, and security blocked the reporters trying to follow. Once they were far enough from the crowd, Do-yeong turned to his manager and spoke with a tinge of frustration.
“Why won’t you ever let me talk?”
“You’ve got a habit of saying too much.”
“I was just telling the truth. You know how much Hyeon helped me with the script.”
“And were you going to tell them he was the one originally cast, but the role got switched because of your grandfather’s investment?”
“What?”
Do-yeong stopped in his tracks. The manager, oblivious to what he’d just let slip, tried to push him forward, confused as to why he’d stopped. But Do-yeong stared at him and asked,
“You mean… I didn’t get the role because Hyeon turned it down?”
“Y-yeah. That’s right. He couldn’t take it because of a stage production at the time…”
