# 04: When You Think It’s Too Late, It Already Is (2)
The black night receded as if it had never been, and a white morning arrived. By the time Park Euntae thought he should have slept a little longer, it was already too late. Time, cruel in its passage, pushed him toward work, leaving him no choice. There was nothing he could do against time—regretting the hours lost wouldn’t bring them back. In the end, he had spent the night with his eyes wide open, rubbing his stiff eyes as he forced himself out of bed.
“Euntae, good morning.”
“Yes. Good morning.”
He arrived at work not too late and began tackling the tasks assigned to him one by one. He took on all the miscellaneous errands that the other busy managers couldn’t handle—delivering coffee from one office to another, relaying schedules and meeting notes, even acting as a porter for the stylists. The tasks weren’t particularly difficult, just a bit tedious. Still, the lack of sleep from the night before made him feel more exhausted than usual. It wasn’t even noon yet, but he was already hitting his limit. He sat down in an empty chair in the office, sipping the leftover coffee from a delivery through a straw, and his eyes naturally closed. The caffeine was supposed to wake him up, but instead, sleepiness crept in.
“Why do you look so drained today, Euntae?”
A familiar voice made him open his eyes and turn his head. Someone had taken the seat next to him, which had been empty just moments ago. The familiar face belonged to Director Jaehee, a director affiliated with Ocean Entertainment. Over the past year, Ocean Entertainment had been expanding into film and drama production, and Jaehee was a rising director they had poached at a high price. It wasn’t surprising that she and Euntae were on good terms. Working in the same company, they had plenty of opportunities to meet, and Euntae had even helped out on her sets a few times. Whether it was luck, her good nature, or simply her knack for standing out wherever she went, Jaehee had a way of forming connections when the opportunity arose.
“I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“A young guy like you, whining about not sleeping for one night? Back in my day…”
“You could pull all-nighters for three days straight without batting an eye, right?”
“Exactly.”
“The world should know how much of a fossil our Director Jaehee is.”
Jaehee chuckled at Euntae’s remark and added that it was a good thing people didn’t know.
“What kept you up?”
“Uh… just something.”
“Just something?”
“Just… watching something.”
It was a vague, ambiguous answer. Jaehee leaned away from him, eyeing him suspiciously. A physically fit man saying he stayed up all night watching something was bound to raise eyebrows. Euntae met her gaze and told her to cut out the suspicious look—it wasn’t anything weird. This time, she subtly shifted her chair farther away from him. Of course, it was all in jest. When Euntae complained that she was being too much, Jaehee laughed and straightened her posture.
“If you’d just given a proper answer, you wouldn’t have been misunderstood.”
“I was watching Yeojun hyung’s works.”
“Why act like it’s some big secret?”
Euntae, uncharacteristically, trailed off. It seemed he was a little embarrassed. He was usually bold, shameless, and never one to back down or hide anything in any situation. It was a new reaction, but that alone wasn’t enough to judge how Euntae felt about Yeojun. So Jaehee just laughed it off, assuming Euntae was embarrassed to show his fanboy side for Seo Yeojun.
“Hey, everyone in this company knows you’re a Seo Yeojun stan. Even I know, and I barely step foot in the office. That says it all, doesn’t it?”
“Who says I’m a Seo Yeojun stan?”
“You do. It’s written all over your face. You practically drool when you look at him. And you act like a puppy around him—tail wagging and all. Anyone who sees you two would think you’re dating.”
Jaehee’s words struck Euntae as fresh. Everyone in the company, Jaehee included, probably didn’t find her words surprising at all, but to Euntae, they felt new. He knew he had a soft spot for Yeojun. He knew he paid extra attention to Yeojun, took special care of him, and acted like a child around him despite the age gap. He knew he teased Yeojun more than anyone else.
…Right. That’s how it was. Thoughts connected to thoughts until Euntae finally let out a soft, “Ah.” Just two weeks ago, he might have easily admitted, “Yeojun hyung is just a good person,” and laughed it off as no big deal. But today, those ordinary, everyday things felt vividly, undeniably real. So I really liked him that much, he thought.
“So, did you enjoy his works?”
Euntae nodded vaguely in response to Jaehee’s question. His stomach churned somewhere inside, but he didn’t want to show it.
“It’s a shame, Seo Yeojun. He’s a decent actor, but he hasn’t had a standout role since he was twenty-nine.”
Jaehee added, “His looks and acting are my type.” Euntae, who had been gazing absently into the distance, shifted his eyes slightly. He glanced at Jaehee, then looked away.
“Then, Director Jaehee, why don’t you help him out?”
“Are you trying to pitch Seo Yeojun to me?”
“Yes. I’m a Seo Yeojun stan. I want him to become a great actor.”
He said it half-jokingly, but he meant it. He wanted Yeojun to be hurt and abandoned, to be isolated and lonely, yet still receive recognition. It was a contradictory emotion, but that was just how people were.
“You’re not sincere enough.”
“You just said his looks and acting are your type.”
“That’s just a vague impression. Nothing really stands out.”
Jaehee stood up from her seat and quickly grabbed the coffee on the table. Euntae tried to say it was for Manager Kim, but Jaehee had already sipped it through the straw.
“Ugh, now I have to go back to the café because of you.”
“Walking a bit will wake you up. And next time, bring a proper PPT about Seo Yeojun and give me a real briefing. Then I’ll consider it.”
With a “Good work, kid,” Jaehee patted Euntae’s shoulder and left. As Euntae was about to get up to go back to the café, he heard voices exchanging greetings from the other side. Jaehee had bumped into Junho on her way out. Jaehee said, “Enjoy the coffee,” and left, and Junho approached Euntae, asking what that was about. Euntae honestly replied that Jaehee had taken his coffee. He added that he’d go get a new one and stood up, but Junho waved him off, saying it wasn’t necessary. He had other things to do.
“Go to Gyeonhui’s place instead of Jinwoo.”
“Me? Why?”
“Why do you think? The entertainment reporters are camped outside Gyeonhui’s apartment. They’re not leaving, so no one can get in or out.”
Jinwoo was Gyeonhui’s dedicated manager. He had worked with Gyeonhui for a long time, so most entertainment reporters knew his face. Junho’s words implied that not only Gyeonhui but also Jinwoo was trapped inside, unable to leave. In this day and age, coming out shouldn’t be such a big deal, but apparently, it still was—or at least, it was juicy gossip.
“I was supposed to help Yeojun hyung with his profile shoot later.”
While organizing schedules, Euntae had confirmed that Yeojun’s drama profile shoot was scheduled for that afternoon. It wasn’t officially his responsibility, but before Jaehee interrupted, he had been trying to figure out how to take on the task himself. Now, he was being sent into a minefield. It felt like being dragged into a warzone with no promise of return.
“That can be handled by someone else. You go first. We need someone whose face isn’t as recognizable to the reporters.”
Euntae stopped himself from arguing further. Even if Junho liked him, Junho was a high-ranking manager, and Euntae was just a lowly assistant. If he was told to go, he had to go.
***
When Euntae arrived at the apartment address he’d been given, he witnessed what could only be described as a crowd. Still, the reporters weren’t completely blocking the entrance—they couldn’t cause trouble for the other residents. They only swarmed like bees when Gyeonhui, his boyfriend Han Je-woo, his manager Jinwoo, or anyone related came in or out. As Euntae passed through the entrance, he glanced at the reporters but wasn’t recognized as someone connected. He safely reached Gyeonhui’s door and pressed the doorbell. Gyeonhui opened the door and greeted him warmly.
“You must be Euntae. Just as I heard—you’re quite handsome.”
Gyeonhui was so strikingly handsome and exuded such star quality that Euntae felt a little embarrassed by the compliment. He had caught glimpses of Gyeonhui a few times in the office, but this was the first time they’d properly met face-to-face. It wasn’t uncomfortable or intimidating, just strangely novel. He thought that if he told his cousin Boyeon about this later, she’d be insanely jealous. The thought made him smile unexpectedly. Gyeonhui, sensing his reaction, asked, “Why?” Euntae cleared his throat and shook his head, adding that his cousin was a fan of Gyeonhui’s.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
