Kang Hyeon barely had time to respond before another question came flying at him. Perhaps flustered by the barrage, his expression stiffened. He bit down on his nicely-shaped lower lip, clearly finding it difficult to answer. A vein popped on Yoon Do-yeong’s forehead.
Unaware of this, Kang Hyeon hesitated before finally opening his mouth.
“Cafe.”
“You’ve only been working there for a month.”
“……Yeah.”
“What kind of person?”
“……They’re kind.”
The short, clipped answers were driving him mad. Forcing a gentle smile, he asked again.
“Can’t you tell me a bit more? You’ve got a photo, right? Can you show me?”
“I’ll introduce you later.”
Kang Hyeon gave an awkward smile and looked around the hospital room. His evasive behavior made Do-yeong reach out. Grabbing Kang Hyeon’s arm, he asked,
“You said it’s been a month—why didn’t you tell me?”
A tinge of hurt bled into his voice. Kang Hyeon looked straight at him, seeming unsure, then gently pulled his arm free. Still biting his lip, he met Do-yeong’s eyes and began to speak.
“You seemed busy. We naturally became something more over time, so I wasn’t even sure myself. You’re the first person I’ve told. No one else knows yet.”
He spoke calmly, letting out a shallow breath as he continued.
“More importantly, how are you feeling? Why’d you get into that accident?”
The question came off cool and detached, and Do-yeong shut his mouth. Kang Hyeon had always spoken rather bluntly, but this time, his voice carried an edge—as if saying, What does that have to do with me?
“I’m… fine. They said I’ll be able to go about my daily life.”
At that, Kang Hyeon gave a faint smile, as if reassured.
“Get some rest. I’ll go now.”
“Already?”
Do-yeong sat up at his words, only to let out a groan of pain. Kang Hyeon hurried over and helped him lie back down.
“Does it hurt a lot? Should I call the nurse?”
When he asked, his voice full of concern, Do-yeong grabbed his sleeve.
“Can you… take care of me for a bit?”
“…….”
“You know I can’t just bring in anyone as a caregiver. Please, help me out.”
Do-yeong’s voice trembled. He clutched his chest dramatically, groaning as if to emphasize the pain. Kang Hyeon had always granted his requests. Expecting the same now, a hopeful smile touched his lips, but—
“Sorry. I’ve got to head to work. And they said you can handle daily activities. Just be careful until you recover, and ask them to assign a reliable assistant.”
At the calm refusal, a crack formed between Do-yeong’s smooth brows.
“Do-yeong, I’m already late. Take care of yourself. When you’re discharged…”
Before he could finish, Do-yeong grabbed his hand. His voice trembled, but the words came out firm and full of desperate hope.
“You’ll come… right?”
“…If I can fit it in. I’m juggling three part-time jobs right now. I’m sorry. I’ll call. Get some rest.”
Strength drained from Do-yeong’s hand. As Kang Hyeon hesitated and turned away, he spoke softly—his tone gentle, but unmistakably laced with coldness.
“Take my coat.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll take a taxi.”
Do-yeong stared fixedly at Kang Hyeon’s retreating back as he walked away. Once the door closed, a hollow feeling settled in his chest. It wasn’t as bad as when he saw the message saying with lover at a hotel, but a sharp anger crept up his neck, making it stiff.
He closed his eyes, heat blooming at the corners. Clutching his chest as if to hold in the emptiness, he stared blankly into the air.
Not even out of courtesy had he managed to say congratulations on your new relationship. No, he simply hadn’t.
***
Kang Hyeon’s footsteps echoed steadily through the VIP ward corridor. He stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button to go down. While waiting for the elevator stopped on the third floor to rise, he took a deep breath.
Thankfully, Yoon Do-yeong’s injuries weren’t too severe. The hairline fracture in his rib would heal in about a month, and since he could manage day-to-day activities, it wasn’t something to be overly worried about.
The agency would take good care of him. His parents and grandfather would also make sure he was looked after. His maternal grandfather—a chairman of a major conglomerate, his mother, and his father, a member of the National Assembly. People to be madly envious of. They’d surely nurse him with all the love and devotion in the world. Of course they would. So he just needed to take care of his own life.
Still, Do-yeong’s voice asking for help lingered in his ears. That expression, clutching his chest in pain, haunted his mind’s eye. His legs itched to go back to that hospital room. He rocked anxiously on his heels, and at that moment, a hand grabbed his shoulder. He turned reflexively.
“It’s cold. Take your coat.”
Do-yeong stood there, holding the coat out with one hand, the other pressed to his chest.
“Why’d you come out like that!”
“I was told I could go about my daily life, so I tried walking a bit. You don’t have to be that surprised.”
Yoon Do-yeong walked up behind Kang Hyeon. While Kang Hyeon stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, a coat was gently draped over his shoulders.
“……I said I’m fine.”
“It’s below freezing today.”
Just then, the elevator doors opened. At the same moment, they both spoke.
“Take the next one.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Caught off guard, Kang Hyeon let out a faint, powerless smile. Do-yeong stared at him, then deliberately smiled back. His eyes, sharp and watchful, were momentarily hidden beneath gently folded lids.
“I’ll go now.”
“I thought you were walking me out.”
“Sorry, I’m already really late for my shift. I’ll call you.”
Kang Hyeon quickly stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to keep the door from closing.
“I’ll call.”
“Be safe.”
“……Take care of yourself.”
“Thanks for coming.”
As he listened to Do-yeong’s subdued farewell, Kang Hyeon pressed the button for the first floor. Absentmindedly looking up, he caught sight of Do-yeong waving weakly at chest height through the narrowing elevator doors. Kang Hyeon waved back. The doors soon shut, and Do-yeong disappeared from view.
“Haah…”
Kang Hyeon covered his face with both hands. Do-yeong was the one who was injured, yet his own chest throbbed with a dull ache. His mind felt frozen, blank. But the coat on his shoulders, steeped in its owner’s scent, was warm.
He had always been like this—kind. Though he seemed courteous to everyone, he actually kept people at a distance. Unless it was absolutely necessary, he never initiated conversations. And even when people approached him with goodwill, he made a point of drawing a line with cool detachment.
But with me—only with me, someone he’s known for so long—he gave everything, as if I was the exception.
As Kang Hyeon stepped out of the open elevator, he finally slid his arms properly into the sleeves of the coat. While walking through the lobby, he stopped unconsciously in front of a large mirror.
Unkempt hair. A black knit sweater already fraying with wear. Sweatpants. And over that, a luxury-brand coat.
He let out a bitter laugh at the unbalanced image.
He had texted saying he was with his lover at a hotel. Who shows up to meet their lover on New Year’s Eve looking this disheveled? At a hotel, no less. His footsteps dragged.
He pulled the coat tight, crossed his arms inside the sleeves like a hug. It was a size too big for him—just like always—but that only made it feel cozier.
“Ah…”
He’d been so preoccupied with that stupid lie about having a lover that he hadn’t even said congratulations on winning the Grand Prize. The coat he could return through the agency, but the congratulations… as a fellow actor, he should’ve said something.
But mid-thought, a dry chuckle slipped out.
What fellow actor? He and Yoon Do-yeong may have both started as child actors, but after his hiatus, Do-yeong came back as a leading man and shot to the top. Meanwhile, he was forgotten—barely scraping by with bit parts, a barely-surviving background actor.
He pulled out his smartphone, intending to send a proper message of congratulations. His fingers hovered over the keypad, but there it was—the half-hearted message he’d already sent.
[I watched the awards.]
[Of course, I knew you’d win.]
[Congratulations.]
He stared at the message for a while. ‘I already sent one… What’s the point of sending another?’ With a sigh, he shut the screen off and forced his legs to move again. Once outside, the chill hit him harder than before. He hadn’t noticed it on the way in, but now it gripped his whole body—even with the coat on.
He flipped up the collar to shield his neck and headed toward the nearby bus stop. But even that felt farther than he remembered. He stood in the corner, head hanging low, waiting for the bus. While lightly tapping his toe on the pavement, two buses came and went—but he didn’t notice.
Just as the second one passed, his phone buzzed.
[Missed the bus again. You could’ve just taken that one.]
The moment he checked the message, his head snapped up. Looking toward the top floor of the hospital—the VIP suite—another buzz came.
[There’s another one behind it.]
He turned his head in the direction the message suggested. Sure enough, the bus heading toward home was pulling up. He hurried on board and sank into a seat, quickly tapping out a reply.
[Get some rest]
[And congratulations]
[Really]
He typed You looked so lovely, then deleted it before sending. A reply came right away.
[It hurts every time I move my chest.]
[Call the nurse.]
He saw that it had been read right away, but there was no reply. He locked the screen and tucked the phone back into his pocket. Leaning back into the seat, his body finally relaxed. His eyes fell shut, and a long sigh escaped his lips.
***
Yoon Do-yeong, practically pressed up against the large window of the VIP room, let out a shallow sigh at the message Kang Hyeon had sent. It was his usual curt reply, but somehow today, it grated on his nerves.
It made perfect sense—he was in pain, so of course he should tell the nurse. And yet, he couldn’t understand why it felt so hurtful. Another sigh spilled from his lips. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he watched the bus that Kang Hyeon had boarded as it moved farther away. Even after it shrank to the size of a toy and vanished between buildings, he kept staring blankly in that direction.
Inside the silent room, only his soft sighs and the occasional groans he made without realizing it as he shifted positions filled the air.
Bzzzz.
The hum of an incoming message made him glance at his phone.
[What did the nurse say?]
His focus snapped back as his eyes sparkled with renewed attention. Only then did he press the call button above the bed. The moment the nurse walked in, he asked urgently,
“My chest hurts.”
His face betrayed no real pain, but the nurse came closer and gently helped him lie back.
“Please stay lying down. I’ll let the doctor know.”
“Is it normally supposed to hurt like this?”
The question drifted out in a breathy tone, almost like a sigh, prompting a flicker of doubt in the nurse’s eyes. From what she knew, his condition was mild enough for him to manage his daily life.
“…It really depends on the patient. But yes, it does hurt.”
As soon as he heard her answer, his fingers flew across the keypad so fast they were a blur.
[It hurts when I breathe.]
[It hurts even when I’m just lying still.]
[And when I move—it hurts more, more, more.]
[The nurse said it’s normal to hurt.]
