After finishing their coffee and stepping outside, a biting cold wind wrapped around them. Thankfully, the morning rush hour had passed, so the streets weren’t too crowded. Still, with three tall men—each over 180 cm—walking together, they naturally drew attention. Some passersby even recognized Yoon Do-yeong and tried to approach, but Lee Ji-gyeong would immediately block their path.
They quickly arrived at the paid parking lot and headed toward a sports car—but Do-yeong pointed in the opposite direction.
“The sports car stands out too much.”
He was pointing at the imported car they’d taken to Baek Ga-yeong’s café.
“This one stands out even more,” Ji-gyeong said incredulously.
“Most people don’t recognize it since it’s rare here.”
“You could’ve just brought something normal.”
Even Kang Hyeon chimed in, sounding reluctant. Do-yeong replied with a helpless tone.
“How am I supposed to bring my parents’ commuter car?”
“You could’ve rented something.”
“Nothing else rides as smoothly as this.”
With that flat response, Do-yeong climbed into the driver’s seat. Kang Hyeon took the passenger seat. Ji-gyeong silently observed the two of them before sinking into the back seat, slumping into it.
“Ji-gyeong, lie down and nap a bit. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
Do-yeong spoke kindly as he started the car. Unlike with Ji-gyeong, whom he didn’t speak to at all during the drive, he kept chatting with Kang Hyeon. While Hyeon had suggested a nearby beach, Do-yeong drove for over three hours to a far-off destination.
“Then we won’t be able to watch a movie tonight.”
“Why not? We can catch a late-night show.”
“I’ll be tired.”
“Then sleep now. That way you’ll be fine by evening.”
“What about Ji-gyeong? And I’ll be exhausted too if we’re out late. Just go somewhere closer.”
“…”
“Answer.”
“A wider beach with a nearby art museum makes for more romantic memories, doesn’t it?”
From the backseat, Ji-gyeong had been staring at them the whole time. He finally spoke up.
“You two’ve clearly never been bitch-slapped by winter wind before, huh?”
Both turned to look at him.
“Winter beaches sound all romantic, sure. But get there in this weather and your fingers feel like they’ll snap off, your cheeks sting from the wind—it’s a whole existential crisis.”
He gave a bitter smile.
“Before you even ‘find peace,’ your nose is dripping, you’re stamping your feet like an idiot just to stay warm, and then you get hit by reality the moment you go for spicy fish stew afterward. That’s winter beaches for you.”
He pulled his red turtleneck up over his chin and locked eyes with Do-yeong.
“There’s no such thing as ‘romance’ at that beach, hyung. That temporary relief you feel? It’s not because your soul healed—it’s just your half-frozen body coming back to life in a warm room, fooling your brain for a second.”
“People go there when they’re struggling.”
“What’s so hard for you?”
“…I just don’t show it. But there’s a lot.”
“Then go see a doctor.”
The chill in Ji-gyeong’s voice cut through the conversation. Hyeon stepped in.
“Ji-gyeong, why are you so sharp today? That’s not like you.”
“…”
“Let’s all go get bitch-slapped by the winter wind together.”
With that snide remark, Hyeon punched the nearest beach into the navigation. As Do-yeong pouted silently, Hyeon sent him a message.
[Next time, let’s just come alone.]
[When?]
[Your birthday. Overnight trip.]
Finally, Do-yeong started driving in line with the new destination. With the weekday highway practically empty, they arrived quickly. As soon as they parked, the three headed to the beach, only to flinch as the piercing wind hit them full-force. Ji-gyeong stepped up and lifted Hyeon’s coat collar for him. Do-yeong, watching, was met with a pointed jab from Ji-gyeong.
“What? You want me to do it for you too, hyung?”
“No.”
Do-yeong turned and walked to a nearby shop. He came back with three scarves, handed one to Ji-gyeong, and carefully wrapped another around Hyeon’s neck. Then he looped the last one around his own neck, covering half his face, and started walking down the beach. Ji-gyeong looked unimpressed at the cheap-looking blue scarf he’d been handed—but put it on anyway.
Beige coat for Do-yeong with a white scarf. Brown coat for Hyeon with a khaki scarf. Ji-gyeong alone, in a black coat and red turtleneck, wore the mismatched blue scarf.
The beach had a few scattered visitors—mostly middle-aged or older. They all turned to look at the trio of tall young men braving the harsh wind.
“Isn’t that the actor from that drama?”
“It is! It really is!”
“Wow… He looks just like on screen.”
Recognizing Yoon Do-yeong, the older folks murmured among themselves, watching with curious eyes. But that was all. None of them had the boldness to approach the clearly unapproachable group. Thankfully, no one followed them as they intentionally walked toward the emptier parts of the beach.
Still, one woman called someone on the phone, yelling, “I saw Yoon Do-yeong! Ah, he’s even better looking in person!” Then, lowering her voice, she added, “But no way I could ask for a signature… He seemed kind of standoffish. Walked right past me like he didn’t care.”
The three heard her perfectly but didn’t react. Instead, they just drifted naturally toward an even quieter spot.
The freezing winter beach, if not for the cold, was breathtaking. The clear blue sky met the sea in a perfect horizon, soft clouds hanging like cushions in between. Gulls soared overhead, waves broke into white foam against the sand, and sunlight sparkled across the surface. The sand, usually muted, glowed a creamy beige in the light.
Do-yeong took it all in with a deep breath. The cold air sliced through his insides, clearing out the burning pressure within. Another breath—it stung his throat. One more—it hurt. But the pain felt oddly cleansing.
Hyeon walked beside him, inhaling deeply too. He looked at the scenery, then at Do-yeong, whose presence felt like part of the painting. A warm, quiet joy spread on his face.
“You like it?”
Ji-gyeong’s voice startled him. Smiling at Do-yeong just a moment ago, Hyeon quickly turned it into an excuse.
“It’s cold, but… not bad.”
“Then want to come again when it snows? Watching snowfall from a café is really nice. Or we could go camping?”
“I thought you hated the cold?”
“Days like today with all this wind? Yeah, that’s the worst. But snow days are less cold. I prefer the beach in summer, though.”
Ji-gyeong glanced out at the blue sea, then turned back to Hyeon with a soft gaze. Then he chuckled and flicked Hyeon’s cheek.
“Look at those red cheeks.”
He went on, smiling more warmly now than he had earlier in the car.
“Drinking hot tea while watching snow fall from indoors is the best. Still, walking a bit like this isn’t so bad when the wind’s calm.”
“Hyung, let’s pick out the fish ourselves at the seafood market for lunch.”
“Let’s just go to a proper restaurant. Do-yeong might not be comfortable there.”
“If he’s with us, they’ll probably give us extras or discounts. People our age or Do-yeong’s fans might follow him, but older folks just think it’s nice and leave it at that.”
Mouthing the word “drama queen”, Ji-gyeong looked toward Do-yeong, who was watching from a short distance away.
“Hyung, you think you’ve got some celeb disease or something? Think everyone’s dying to talk to you?”
He gestured at the barely populated beach.
“They’re not. And if someone recognizes you, just say thank you, sign an autograph, take a photo. When you come out in public, you should expect at least that much. Don’t go around looking like ice to the point it chills people off. A warm smile here and there goes a long way in managing your image.”
“…Yeah.”
Do-yeong gave a slow response—just as the sound of a camera shutter clicked from nearby. A middle-aged woman on a railing waved and shouted, “My daughter’s a fan!” As Do-yeong bowed his head in acknowledgment, Hyeon quickly tugged him away in the opposite direction.
With Do-yeong leading, Hyeon whispered to Ji-gyeong who followed just behind.
“People used to recognize Do-yeong a lot even back then.”
“…”
“It gets to you. You can’t even enjoy a meal properly. I only had a taste of it when I was a child actor, and it wasn’t all fun. You’ll get it soon.”
Ji-gyeong, who had frowned slightly, softened.
“My filming doesn’t start till spring. I’ve got time.”
“It’ll fly. By this time next year, you might be the one complaining.”
Do-yeong glanced back at the two of them whispering behind his back. Ji-gyeong was right next to Hyeon, smiling, and Hyeon reached out, pretending to flick his forehead. Watching them made something sting in his chest, and he took a deep breath. His fingers, hidden in his pocket, tapped gently against his thigh.
“Ji-gyeong, you got gloves or a hot pack?”
“Your hands cold?”
Ji-gyeong reached out to take Hyeon’s hand, but Hyeon suddenly stretched his arm forward and dashed ahead.
“Do-yeong!”
He grabbed Do-yeong’s arm just as a wave lapped at his shoes.
“Your shoes’ll get wet.”
Looking down at his feet, Do-yeong saw the wave just barely graze past the tips of his shoes. Conflicted, he stood at the edge, watching the waves ebb and flow, stepping back as they surged and following as they retreated—using the rhythm to calm himself. Again and again, the water came close without touching.
Watching silently, Hyeon’s eyes crinkled gently. He stepped closer and gave Do-yeong a playful shove. Do-yeong lost balance slightly and tilted. The two exchanged smiles—then Ji-gyeong’s voice rang out.
“Hyung, wanna buy snacks and feed the seagulls?”
“Ah…”
Hyeon nodded. The cold was getting to him too—he could use a warm coffee.
“I’ll go grab a few things. Stay with Do-yeong.”
Before Ji-gyeong could reply, Hyeon was already running off toward a shop in the distance. Do-yeong’s eyes followed him.
“Let’s keep playing in the water.”
Ji-gyeong emphasized the word “playing”—and Do-yeong gave him a long look. Ji-gyeong turned his eyes to the wave brushing over Do-yeong’s shoes and gave a faint smile.
“What? Not fun playing by the water with me?”
“…What are you trying to say?”
