“I promised Hyeon I’d buy you lunch.”
“I’m good.”
“I’ve got five outfits to shoot today. I was going to carve out twenty minutes to eat with you. But if you say no, I’ll just use that time to model the rest.”
Yoon Do-yeong smiled, his eyes gleaming with intent.
“I’ll pick the ones you already wore and shot.”
It was obvious that the outfits he wore would end up on the brand’s massive storefront billboards. That meant the clothes Lee Ji-gyeong modeled would probably not get featured at all—or, at best, end up in a catalog for online shopping. Nothing more.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Let’s just say I already ate.”
“That won’t leave a paper trail. I need the staff to snap a few photos and post them on social media. We need receipts—for future use.”
“Burger.”
At his reluctant answer, Do-yeong called for Chief Choi. Not long after, enough burgers for everyone on set were delivered. While Do-yeong kept his words to others strictly formal, he smiled warmly at Ji-gyeong and personally handed him a burger. As he accepted it as politely as he could, he muttered under his breath.
“What is this?”
“Hyeon dotes on you too much.”
“……”
“I heard you wanted sashimi. So you two went to the seafood market, bought a massive platter with a bunch of sides, had cake, watched the sunset, and the sunrise too.”
“Are you picking a fight?”
Ji-gyeong gave him a disbelieving laugh, burger still in hand.
“If you’re going to smile, at least make it likable.”
At the word likable, Ji-gyeong’s puzzled gaze locked onto him.
“Everyone here is watching us. Even if they don’t release anything now, eventually someone will leak it to the public. And that could come back to bite you.”
“……”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut about you. No matter when, no matter what happens. So…”
He took a big bite of his burger, chewed thoroughly, and swallowed before finishing.
“Do whatever you want.”
“…Why do you say it like you’re being generous? Like you’re doing me a favor for giving up?”
Even without a subject, Do-yeong knew exactly what he meant—and he burst into full, mocking laughter.
“Giving up? I never even tried. And let’s be precise—you’re the one who said you were going to confess.”
“What about the luxury watch and the sports car?”
He brought up the way Do-hyeon had tried to signal interest in Kang Hyeon. He shrugged, completely unfazed.
“If that counts as an ‘attempt,’ I barely lifted a finger.”
“……”
Somewhere nearby, the soft click of a camera shutter echoed. Ji-gyeong smiled faintly and took a bite of his burger.
“You don’t think I’d ever say anything about you?”
“Have you ever seen me strike up conversation with anyone on set?”
“……”
“If you hear someone talking about me, it’s 100% from you. And like you said—the power backing me is bigger and stronger than you can imagine. Do what you want, if you think you can handle the consequences.”
Their whispered exchange was interrupted when Chief Choi approached, holding out a buzzing smartphone. Do-yeong glanced at the screen and quickly picked up.
“Hey, Hyeon.”
Ji-gyeong chewed slowly, focusing on the call.
“Did you audition? Was it for that role? Did it go well? Ah…”
Then Do-yeong suddenly looked at him.
“I’m shooting with Ji-gyeong right now. I came by to get him lunch—he chose burgers, so we’re eating with the staff.”
Ji-gyeong stared at the burger in his hand. It was gourmet, not cheap by any means, but he couldn’t have found it more disgusting.
“The troupe?”
Something in Do-yeong’s once-flat tone lit up.
“Oh, it’s nearby? I’ll be done in about ten minutes. If I leave right after, I’ll probably arrive when you do. Let’s go greet the seniors together.”
Do-yeong put down the burger after only two bites and jumped up. He called Chief Choi over, and the staff rushed to prep his next outfit, half-eaten food forgotten. Ji-gyeong watched him go, then sent Kang Hyeon a message.
[What’s the role?]
[I just auditioned.]
[It’s a drama based on a webtoon.]
[When Do-yeong said ‘that role,’ what did he mean?]
[I got a call about the audition. He and I were talking about the character when I decided to go for it.]
[You could’ve asked me.]
[You left early—you were busy.]
Ji-gyeong’s lips twisted bitterly. It must’ve been on Kang Hyeon’s birthday.
[Get it! Get it!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, GO GET IT!! <3]
He added a heart emoticon and hit send—but someone stepped in front of him. He lifted his gaze, following the pants visible across the table, and found Do-yeong staring down at his screen with a smile. There was a glint in his eyes that sent a chill through him.
“Let’s get a group photo with the staff.”
His voice was calm, contradicting his stare. Ji-gyeong stood, and the two of them posed, surrounded by smiling staff. Like the closest of seniors and juniors.
While Do-yeong was changing, Chief Choi took everyone’s coffee orders. Then, after Do-yeong rushed off with apologies and thanks, the drinks were delivered. Ji-gyeong didn’t resume shooting until after the staff had eaten and relaxed with their coffee.
“Ji-gyeong, you didn’t eat at all?”
His manager approached. Ji-gyeong clenched his jaw and responded flatly.
“I felt like throwing up.”
“Are you sick?”
“Of course I’m sick! Wouldn’t you be?!”
He snapped, then stormed off into the dressing room. His manager frowned and mouthed toward his retreating back: Ungrateful little bitch.
***
Tap, tap. The fingers that had been drumming against his thigh paused, then clenched into a fist. Then they resumed their rhythm. Eyes shut in thought, Yoon Do-yeong let out a shallow sigh and ground his molars.
The memory of Ji-gyeong’s message popped back into his head, turning his stomach.
[Get it! Get it!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, GO GET IT!! <3]
He’d typed “I love you” like it was nothing, even stuck a cutesy heart at the end.
Love…
A vein bulged on Do-yeong’s forehead.
“Haa…”
His sigh drew Chief Choi’s glance from the driver’s seat through the rearview mirror.
“Now what?”
“If we dig into MiraeCom2, will it affect my mom?”
“…What the hell are you thinking about since earlier?”
“I want the police and prosecutors to go all in. Drag the entire upper crust down with them.”
Though that’ll never happen, he muttered quietly.
By then, they’d reached their destination. In front of a small, quiet theater, Kang Hyeon stood with his arms crossed. The moment he spotted the car, he dropped his arms and walked over slowly.
“Let me out.”
“We’ve got to leave in an hour and a half.”
“Got it.”
As soon as the car stopped, Do-yeong jumped out. He ran up and grabbed Hyeon’s arm.
“Did you wait long?”
He slipped his hand into Hyeon’s elbow as they turned down the alley toward the theater’s back door.
“No, I just got here too.”
“Your ears are red. Did you walk here?”
“No.”
Hyeon, clearly aware of Do-yeong’s hand on his arm, pushed open the back door.
“Want to have dinner with the seniors?”
“Nah. I just came to say hi. They’re rehearsing a new play.”
“Got it… Then you eating at Ga-yeong noona’s café?”
“…Was gonna pick up some sushi on the way.”
“Then just say hi for thirty minutes or so, and we can grab sushi nearby. You can bring something from there for noona.”
“…That might cut it too close.”
“Sushi doesn’t take long. I didn’t even have lunch. Ordered a burger, but I was so tense I couldn’t eat.”
“I’m starving~” he added playfully, and Hyeon nodded.
“Alright.”
When they stepped inside, lukewarm air wrapped around them.
“Yo, Hyeon! Yo, yo—Do-yeong!!”
A heavyset man in his late thirties, beard and all, shouted from the seats.
“Holy crap! World star!!”
“Hey! It’s Senior Ah-yul! Yoon Do-yeong’s here!”
At the booming announcement, a baby-faced teenage actor shouted toward the dressing room, and soon a round-eyed, sweet-looking girl emerged.
“Weren’t you busy?”
“I am. Just stopped by to say hello.”
Pats of approval landed on his back from his senior.
“Tight schedule?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a flight early tomorrow.”
“Where to?”
“Talk show, fashion show… a bunch of interviews.”
He offered a bright smile and vague answer. They led him to the seats and began peppering him with questions. Hyeon, after greeting everyone, simply sat beside Do-yeong and listened silently. When the seniors’ attention focused entirely on Do-yeong, Hyeon glanced around the small theater. Then, the booming voice filled the space again.
“This kid’s got loyalty. Still makes time to show his face.”
Grinning, Do-yeong accepted a black coffee from the youngest actor as the elder gave his back a hearty slap.
Feeling guilty for showing up empty-handed, Do-yeong pulled out his phone to order snacks. As he scrolled through the delivery app, the young actor’s shy but hopeful voice rang out.
“Um… senior?”
The kid spoke with a hint of pride, but Do-yeong only gave a vague smile, not really interested. Hyeon was the only one looking directly at him.
“I’m debating whether to sign with MiraeCom2 or GI.”
At the mention of MiraeCom2, Min Ah-yul’s face hardened, his voice filled with distaste.
“Cross MiraeCom2 off your list. GI doesn’t seem great either. Just stay solo a little longer before you join an agency.”
