He’d been duped.
Yeo Eun-jo only realized it after stepping into the studio.
It was nothing like he’d expected. Instead of a tidy office set up for an interview, the space was vast and dimly lit, exuding a completely different atmosphere. On one side, professional lights and cameras were set up in rows; on the other, a white backdrop stood ready for shooting.
Staff members bustled around, hauling garment racks, while others were deep in serious discussion near the cameras. Eun-jo had been in front of the lens since childhood—he knew exactly what this was.
This wasn’t an interview. It was a photoshoot.
The moment he figured it out, he yanked out his phone and scrolled through his contacts for Jung Young-soo. Just as he was about to call—
“Guide Yeo Eun-jo!”
A loud voice boomed through the studio, and as if on cue, the staff swarmed him.
“Why are you so late? Did you at least put on lotion?”
“You rinsed your hair, right?”
“Holy shit, you look way better in person.”
“I might be out of a job—there’s literally nothing to retouch!”
Before he knew it, hands were all over him, dragging him toward the dressing room like he was on a conveyor belt.
Director, you bastard! Calling me a heated stone mat and selling me off like an electric blanket!
Still being pulled along, Eun-jo cursed Guide Center Director Jung Young-soo under his breath—for outright lying and telling him this was just an interview.
The next thing he knew, he was seated at a vanity with a barrage of brushes and cosmetics sweeping across his face.
Anyone else might have panicked. But not Eun-jo.
Been there, done that.
It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up in a makeup studio or some random set. His agency’s CEO had always pushed him to the brink with overbooked schedules. Even characters in punishing life sim games like SimX passed out from exhaustion, but he was expected to run around without sleep and still show up smiling.
Before I die, I should at least scream, “I’m not renewing my damn contract!” one time—just for the satisfaction.
Grinding his teeth, Eun-jo thought of his old CEO, who’d always cooed “Our Eun-jo, our Eun-jo,” but never did right by him.
“Can you open your eyes for me?”
He blinked them open—and there he was in the mirror, fully styled.
His once-messy hair now held soft waves that made his already-bright features seem even more radiant. The gentle curls added to his clean, luminous charm.
But the contrast was jarring. A bold red eyeshadow stretched beneath his eyes, and the wide-collared shirt exposed his slender neckline. The whole look practically oozed sensuality. It was crystal clear what kind of concept this shoot was going for.
The staff couldn’t hold back.
“See? I told you this concept was the right call.”
“Who the hell said cyberpunk? Show yourself.”
“And whoever pushed for traditional Asian vibes—come with me. While I’m still being nice.”
The staffer who insisted on the sexy concept glared around the room, triumphant.
Cyberpunk? Apocalyptic aesthetics? East Asian styling? None of it would’ve worked. When they’d first seen Guide Yeo Eun-jo in the Center’s newsletter, he was too dazzling to even look at directly.
He was like pure sunlight incarnate.
That kind of innocent face is even more seductive!
There was something deeply erotic about purity—that subtle tension of someone soft and sunny being thrown into something risqué.
It killed me that he ended up a Guide!
That face belonged to an idol or an actor, not someone wasting away in the Guide Center!
Chuckling at the thought, she waved off the others and turned to look at Eun-jo through the mirror.
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“I’m fine… It just doesn’t feel like me…”
Fidgeting with his fingers, Eun-jo asked shyly, almost pleading:
“C-Can I blink?”
“Just act natural. If anything smudges, I’ll fix it.”
How can anyone be this cute? Even his voice was soft and sweet—like a baby sunshine angel. She brought him iced tea, snacks, and his phone, then gave him a little bow.
“Just hang tight. I’ll let you know when the setup’s ready.”
“Y-Yeah, okay.”
After pinning a few clips in his bangs, the staff finally cleared out. The moment the door shut behind them, Eun-jo’s whole face changed.
“Ughhh…”
He was dying. Doing this again after so long made his whole body ache. Slumping over, he tilted his head back, feeling the sharp prick of strain along his neck. How did I ever get through this before? Groaning, he let his thoughts drift back to his past life.
That’s when he heard the door open.
Footsteps entered the waiting room.
Eun-jo straightened up and looked into the mirror.
“Is it time to go—?”
His voice caught in his throat.
Through the mirror, he locked eyes with Park Se-yul, who was glaring at him with a face like ice. The man’s usual uniform was missing a few buttons, and his neatly styled hair was now tousled, as if he’d rushed over without a second thought.
Shit.
Eun-jo shot to his feet in a panic—just as the robe wrapped around him came undone. His foot snagged on the slippery fabric.
He stumbled.
“Ah…!”
He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact—
But before he could fall, a strong arm yanked him into a firm, protective hold.
“You seriously out of your damn mind?”
Eun-jo slowly opened his eyes—only to find himself wrapped in Park Se-yul’s arms. He’d thought the guy might’ve gotten a little softer after returning from the Gate, but one look at that fierce, beast-like expression made it clear: not a chance.
Trying to play dumb, Eun-jo deflected.
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?”
Park Se-yul let out a sharp, humorless laugh, repeating the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth.
“You’re asking me that? After running off to do a whole damn photoshoot by yourself?”
“……”
“You really had to take it this far, huh?”
“……”
“Do you even know how many people I had to call just to find you?”
The second he heard Eun-jo wasn’t in the treatment room, Se-yul had stormed straight to the Guide Center and demanded a location trace. When that wasn’t fast enough, he’d torn through his own office, the Team A lounge, and even Eun-jo’s dorm, flipping the place upside down.
Waiting on the Center’s tracking system had fried his nerves. The sharp, controlled mind that always worked like a machine had just… short-circuited. Park Se-yul couldn’t stand when something of his slipped out of line. Everything needed to be exactly where he’d put it—including Yeo Eun-jo.
Son of a bitch…
Muttering under his breath, he yanked out his pager and scrolled through his contacts until he found Jin Mu-seong. His jaw tightened.
—“Who’s this?”
“Don’t screw around.”
Jin Mu-seong’s voice came through with a chuckle, and just imagining his smug grin made Se-yul’s blood boil. Clenching his jaw, Se-yul asked coldly:
“Do you know where Guide Yeo Eun-jo is?”
—“Why would I know where the Team A Guide is as the Team B captain?”
“Just answer the damn question. You’re the most nosy bastard I know at the Center.”
—“Hahaha.”
Laughter blasted through the receiver. It wasn’t just amused—it was mocking. Fucking asshole. Se-yul was about to hang up when Jin Mu-seong finally answered, still snickering.
—“I stuck a tracker on our baby.”
“What?”
—“His card. Not a Mother’s Day one—his debit card.”
Mimicking something Eun-jo had once said, Jin Mu-seong continued without missing a beat.
—“He used it five minutes ago at the Starbeans near Northern District Office.”
“……”
—“6,800 won… Hmm. Think our baby got a blueberry frappuccino?”
Se-yul’s jaw locked. His voice turned low and sharp, his words curling with irritation.
“Yeo Eun-jo hates blueberries.”
He hung up instantly and bolted out of the Center.
After tearing through every corner around the Starbeans Jin Mu-seong mentioned, Park Se-yul finally found him—and right now, he was boiling.
His large hand clamped tightly around the back of Eun-jo’s neck. Only after yanking him free from his chest did he get a proper look.
Gone was the neat, fitted Center uniform. Instead, Eun-jo wore a loose, oversized white shirt that draped over his slim frame, the fabric sheer enough to reveal everything underneath.
