#11
There was nothing remarkable about the alley’s scenery. Neighborhood residents were out smoking cigarettes, and illegally dumped garbage was piled haphazardly in various spots. Several pigeons were busy leisurely pecking at food waste nearby.
Do-heon’s gaze as he surveyed the scene was far from pleasant. He appeared uncomfortable. Since he wasn’t typically someone who outwardly displayed his emotions or feelings, Cheong-yeon, who had been watching him, thought it unusual.
“You should find a new place to live as soon as possible.”
“I’m trying to. And do you think finding a place is easy? I’ll handle it myself.”
“No. Move out by tomorrow if possible. If you tell Secretary Shim, you can get an apartment in Cheongdam…”
“Director.”
“…”
Do-heon stopped speaking at Cheong-yeon’s call. He raised an eyebrow as if asking what was wrong.
“I said I’ll handle it myself. Whether it takes a month or a year, I’ll find a place on my own.”
“You’re planning to stay in a neighborhood like this for a year?”
Do-heon snapped back sensitively.
It was just a figure of speech, but it was unclear why he’d fixated on those words. Cheong-yeon sighed. It felt both annoying and ridiculous to explain himself further to Do-heon.
“I don’t think that’s something for you to worry about, Director.”
“Just in case, keep this.”
Do-heon went so far as to take out a credit card and hand it to Cheong-yeon.
“No, I don’t need it. If you’re doing this because of your grandmother, I hate it even more. I didn’t agree to come because I wanted something in return. I agreed because I was worried about your grandmother too. Why are you being like this?”
Cheong-yeon glared at him with disgust. He wasn’t usually someone who couldn’t understand what was being said.
Normally, he should have stated his business and disappeared long ago, but Cheong-yeon couldn’t understand why he was being so persistent today. Did he want to make a charitable donation because he felt sorry for him?
“Then let’s just say it’s a habit of mine.”
“…”
Despite Cheong-yeon’s firm refusal, Do-heon arbitrarily placed the card in his hand. When their fingertips touched, a startled Cheong-yeon instinctively moved backward. But there wasn’t much space to escape inside the car.
“You can go now.”
Do-heon got out of the car first. Then he held the door open, waiting for Cheong-yeon to exit.
Clutching the card in bewilderment, Cheong-yeon got out of the car. Do-heon immediately closed the back door and returned to the driver’s seat.
“…”
Cheong-yeon stood dumbfounded until the car started. A few seconds later, the darkly tinted window rolled down, revealing Do-heon holding the steering wheel.
“Dye your hair back to black.”
Before Cheong-yeon could ask what he was talking about in confusion, Do-heon stepped on the accelerator and left the alley.
“…Black?”
Watching the sleek car’s rear, Cheong-yeon belatedly mulled over Do-heon’s parting words.
“What an absolutely insane bastard. Who does he think he is, ordering me around? What? Dye my hair black again?”
He couldn’t forget Do-heon’s expression as he arrogantly commanded him moments ago.
“Does he think he can just spout bullshit without hesitation because I went along with everything he said before? Does he still think I’ll bark when told to bark and laugh when told to laugh? Fuck this, it’s disgusting.”
Belatedly, Cheong-yeon raised both middle fingers toward the alley where Do-heon’s car had disappeared.
“Eat shit, Moon Do-heon! Damn, I should have cursed him out right then and there.”
He regretted not saying anything in the moment due to his surprise. He felt like he was going crazy thinking about how he’d wasted three years of his life tolerating someone like that.
Cheong-yeon entered Ji-han’s house, gnashing his teeth. It had been a day where nothing went right, just draining his energy.
“You’re back? You’re a bit late.”
“Yeah… I ran into some crazy guy on the way who picked a fight with me.”
“What? What happened?”
“I was about to curse him out, but the bastard left. Are you preparing for your broadcast?”
“Yeah. I’m going to start soon.”
Ji-han scratched his messy hair, seemingly having just woken up. He soon passed by Cheong-yeon, saying he was going to take a shower.
Left alone in the room, Cheong-yeon stared down at Do-heon’s credit card in his hand.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the card… It feels uncomfortable.”
Sighing, Cheong-yeon opened the suitcase that was standing in the corner of the room. While searching for clothes to change into, he paused when he found a shopping bag inside. It was the last luggage he had packed from Do-heon’s house.
“…Oh right. Grandmother’s picture.”
Remembering being told that the grandmother was unwell, Cheong-yeon took out the photo from the shopping bag. Seeing the grandmother’s brightly smiling face made his heart heavy. She never showed signs of being ill whenever he visited, so he had thought she was fine.
Since he was going to see her in person on Saturday anyway, he decided not to dwell on it too deeply. Before being consumed by depressing emotions, Cheong-yeon put the photo back in its place.
As he was about to put the shopping bag back into the suitcase, something else besides the photo caught his eye. It was a letter he had also brought from Do-heon’s house. A letter from a fan during his time as DEX.
He thought he had read it before, but the contents were hazy. Cheong-yeon opened the carefully packaged envelope for the first time in a very long time.
To. Cheong-yeon oppa♡
Oppa, I was so happy to see your face at this fan signing. I was touched that you remembered me and didn’t forget! Thank you for honestly telling me that you originally dreamed of being an actor. No matter what you do or where you are, never forget that Yoo Cheong-yeon shines the brightest. I’ll always support you! I… I love you! >_<
May 13, 20XX, Min Hye-rin
Min Hye-rin. Cheong-yeon murmured the name written at the end of the letter. She was a fan who often followed him to schedules, so he even remembered her face. Even the day he received this letter.
Cheong-yeon opened the remaining letter envelopes and read their contents as well.
To. Cheong-yeon oppa
Oppa. It’s midterm period, but after hearing about the team disbanding, I can’t focus on studying because I’ve been crying. I still have team projects left too… Others criticize your manifestation rather than Yoo Cheong-yeon as an individual, but I’ll always support you. You’ll still act even though DEX disbanded, right? Then wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, I could come see you at least once… Stay strong and be happy. Don’t worry about what others think.
From Hye-rin
“Wow. It’s been so long…”
Cheong-yeon murmured as he carefully handled the letters he had finished reading. Memories of the past that he had forgotten while struggling with reality came flooding back.
I wonder what she’s doing now. Even though the situation was really difficult back then, these letters helped him regain at least a little strength.
Cheong-yeon carefully folded the paper so it wouldn’t crease and put the letter back in the envelope. He was glad he remembered to bring it from Do-heon’s house.
The thought that someone had once fervently supported him, even if briefly, filled his chest with vague hope. Although she might not support him anymore, reading the letter filled with a fan’s affection from that time made his heart feel lighter.
That’s right. I need to try something. Even if I can’t see the path right now, if I keep trying, I’ll somehow manage on my own.
*
Standing on his own would have to be postponed. The acting academy fees were so expensive that he had no choice but to use Do-heon’s card…
Cheong-yeon checked the academy receipt with a somewhat depressed face. The tuition for the most famous large academy was six hundred thousand won per month. Add to that various special lectures and intensive courses, and it would cost close to a million won.
That wasn’t all. If he registered for the course that guaranteed an appearance in a short film produced by the academy, he would need to account for transportation, costume expenses, and food costs. Roughly estimated, he would need at least two million won.
He had considered taking only the most basic classes given his financial situation, but he felt pressured that he shouldn’t put in the same effort at the same pace as the young ones who had just turned twenty.
Since the card was given to him to use, Do-heon wouldn’t make an issue if he used it to register for acting classes. It was only his pride that would be damaged.
Originally, people should know how to live flexibly according to their situations.
“Right. This was the best decision.”
Cheong-yeon forced some justification for his actions.
The first acting class that he started with such difficulty wasn’t bad. He was satisfied that he had avoided harsh criticism thanks to his brief learning experience in the past.
While the teacher praised his overall emotional line, pronunciation, and vocalization as stable, she advised him to practice facial muscles since his detailed facial expressions were somewhat lacking.
Come to think of it, he had been overflowing with confidence when he first entered the classroom, but when he stood in front of the mirror and began his lines, his facial muscles quickly stiffened from nervousness. Simply taking photographs and memorizing lines to act them out were completely different domains.
