First Interview
“What is your relationship with Esper Hyun Tae-oh?”
“We’re friends.”
The simple, concise answer from Kang Chi-yu brought an instant hush over the room.
Before he could even question whether that had been the wrong answer, the director raised a hand and shouted, “Cut!”
“Guide Kang Chi-yu, if you could please make your answer a little longer and more detailed. What the viewers really want to know is how long you’ve known Esper Hyun Tae-oh and just how close your relationship is.”
“Ah, okay…”
As Kang Chi-yu gave a small nod, the director raised his hand again and the camera resumed recording.
The director repeated the question exactly as he had before—same words, same intonation, as if it were the first time.
“What is your relationship with Esper Hyun Tae-oh?”
“We’ve been friends since childhood. Hmm, I think we first met when we were about six. My mother and his mother were close colleagues. Ah, and they’re both Espers.”
“Oh, so you’ve known each other for a long time. That definitely helps explain why Esper Hyun Tae-oh rejected Guide Min Yu-hyun and chose you instead.”
At those words, Kang Chi-yu’s expression stiffened for a moment. But the director, eyes fixed on his script, didn’t notice and continued speaking.
“The production team originally recommended Guide Min Yu-hyun to pair with Esper Hyun Tae-oh. Were you aware of that?”
“Yes, I heard.”
“Actually, there were a lot of fans hoping to see that top-tier synergy between Guide Min Yu-hyun and Esper Hyun Tae-oh, so many of them were really disappointed.”
A subtle furrow formed between Kang Chi-yu’s brows.
‘Why is he even telling me this?’ His mind drifted, and he didn’t catch whatever the director said next.
“…so you could say it’s a classic case of childhood friend privilege. How do you feel about that?”
But the phrase childhood friend privilege struck sharply in Chi-yu’s ears, and his gaze turned directly toward the director.
Childhood friend privilege.
That phrasing really rubbed him the wrong way.
The implication that he had ousted Min Yu-hyun and only landed this spot on the program because he was Hyun Tae-oh’s childhood friend felt downright insulting.
If he had declined, Hyun Tae-oh wouldn’t even be doing this program. But none of that mattered to them—they were treating him like someone riding coattails, enjoying unearned perks.
A flare of defiance rose in Chi-yu.
“What exactly do you mean by ‘how I feel’?”
His voice had a slight edge to it as he threw the question back.
“I mean, being cast on A Pair is Born, the show that most Espers would kill to appear on, all because of Esper Hyun Tae-oh—how does that make you feel?”
The director continued speaking with the same tactless smile, completely unfazed by Chi-yu’s sharpened tone. In the end, Chi-yu had to bite down on his lower lip to stop himself from snapping back in full-blown anger.
This oblivious director really was asking him how it felt to get on the show just because he had Hyun Tae-oh backing him.
Never mind the fact that the entire thing had only come together because of him.
Part of him wondered how someone so completely devoid of tact could even be a director, but then again, considering this show had been top-rated for years, it wasn’t hard to imagine how arrogant the man had become.
It wasn’t difficult to guess that he probably treated every Esper guest like they were disposable pawns.
‘Maybe it’s time someone took him down a peg.’
Kang Chi-yu raised his head and looked straight at the camera operator.
“Could you turn that off for a moment?”
The sudden request made the cameraman glance over at the production director. The director, looking slightly confused, nodded once.
As the camera powered down, Kang Chi-yu let out a long breath and locked eyes with the director across from him.
“That last question was kind of insulting.”
The director’s face flickered with momentary confusion, but Chi-yu pressed on as if he hadn’t seen it.
“It’s not like I begged you or the Esper Department Head to let me on this show. Hyun Tae-oh said he wouldn’t appear unless I did. He specifically said he wouldn’t do it with anyone but me.”
“……”
“So if you see that as some kind of special favor, that’s pretty unfortunate.”
The director’s expression twitched with a hint of regret, but Chi-yu wasn’t finished.
“Fine, you could say Hyun Tae-oh picked me because we’re childhood friends. Sure, that probably makes him feel the most comfortable. I get that.”
“……”
“But calling it a privilege? That’s stretching it, isn’t it?”
“……”
“I didn’t push for this. I didn’t beg the Department Head or Hyun Tae-oh. Your team wanted Hyun Tae-oh for a special feature. Hyun Tae-oh said he’d only do it if I did. And the Guide Department Head personally came to me and asked for my help. Practically pleaded with me.”
“……”
“So tell me—where’s the privilege in that?”
“Uh, Guide Kang Chi-yu…”
“Honestly, if there’s anyone getting a special favor here, I’d say it’s you and this program.”
“……”
“Thanks to me, you managed to get Hyun Tae-oh—someone who’s never appeared on TV before—on this show. If I’m wrong, go ahead and say so. I’ll gladly step aside right now and let Guide Min Yu-hyun take my place.”
He didn’t add that doing so would also make Hyun Tae-oh quit. No—he wanted to say it, but the words stuck in his throat.
That’s because even he couldn’t be completely sure. If he made a big show of walking off like this, there was always the chance that Hyun Tae-oh might go ahead and do the show with Min Yu-hyun after all.
That uncertainty was exactly why he’d reacted so strongly to the whole “childhood friend privilege” comment. He was feeling defensive because he lacked confidence.
“You’re right. Guide Kang Chi-yu, I apologize if the question was offensive. I didn’t think it through.”
Thankfully, the director bowed his head in apology, and Kang Chi-yu accepted it.
No matter how successful the man might be now, the program hadn’t been a hit from the start. Surely, he knew the importance of basic humility.
And bowing his head when the very survival of his show could be threatened by a single wrong word? That was only natural.
The remainder of the interview proceeded cautiously, carefully avoiding anything that might upset Kang Chi-yu further.
***
Hyun Tae-oh returned home just as Kang Chi-yu was wrapping up his interview.
He’d been held up by a sudden combat deployment, and though the delay had seriously irritated him, that irritation vanished the moment he saw Kang Chi-yu—cleaned up and dressed neatly for the camera.
It was the same uniform he always wore, but with just a different hairstyle and a bit of lighting, he looked ridiculously good.
Tae-oh already felt better just seeing Chi-yu’s face on an average day, so the sight of him all styled up like this was straight-up therapeutic. Not that Chi-yu had the slightest clue.
“Good work.”
Chi-yu had just finished his final interview and stood up, offering a polite nod to the director and camera crew.
Then he turned his head, spotted Tae-oh coming through the door, and broke into a huge smile as he walked over quickly.
The way he came trotting over, practically wagging an invisible tail, made Tae-oh’s lips twitch upward without even realizing it.
“You’re finally here?”
“Yeah. Looks like your interview’s already over.”
“Mhm. Next is your solo, and then we’ll do the joint one.”
Tae-oh gave a nod and headed into the dressing room to change.
Chi-yu followed him in and asked, “I heard there was a Red alert?”
“Yeah. But there weren’t any mutants, so it wrapped up quicker than expected.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. The stylist said she’d do your hair for the shoot—are you okay with that?”
“What? Hell no. Tell her not to even try.”
“Yeah, figured you’d say that. I’ll do it. Want me to slick back your bangs?”
As Chi-yu spoke, holding a comb in one hand and reading the label on a can of spray with the other, Tae-oh pulled off his top and gave a crooked smirk.
“You trying to make me look like some middle-aged man?”
“Shows what you know. You actually look hotter with your hair pushed back. Not that you don’t look good with your bangs down too.”
While reading the instructions on the spray, Chi-yu made the comment casually.
Tae-oh paused for a moment, glancing down at Chi-yu.
Then, without warning, he leaned forward, bowing his head right in front of him.
Startled by the sudden proximity of Tae-oh’s head, Chi-yu reflexively leaned back a bit.
“Then go ahead.”
Tae-oh raised his head slightly and locked eyes with Chi-yu.
Their faces were so close. The eye contact sent Chi-yu’s heart racing so hard it was embarrassing.
Hoping Tae-oh wouldn’t hear how loud it was pounding, he began to comb Tae-oh’s hair back.
Oblivious to the turmoil in Chi-yu’s chest, Tae-oh simply kept staring at him—eyes fixed on his face the entire time, now close enough to blur the line between comfort and tension.
Unnerved by the intense gaze, Chi-yu did his best to ignore it, keeping his eyes locked on Tae-oh’s hair.
“Did you put on cologne?”
Tae-oh leaned in closer, sniffing dramatically at Chi-yu’s nape as he asked.
The sudden action sent blood rushing downward in a rush, but Chi-yu shook his head with forced nonchalance.
“No. The stylist applied some cream. Want me to put some on you too—ah, never mind. You don’t need it. You’ve got one of those naturally radiant faces. Ugh, so unfair.”
He waved a hand dismissively, trying to deflect attention with an empty joke.
It was true Tae-oh looked amazing without any effort. But really, Chi-yu was just overwhelmed by how uncomfortable the close proximity was and grasping at any excuse to lighten the mood.
“Why are you complimenting me so much today?”
Even Tae-oh found it odd and asked.
“Hmm?”
“You keep saying I’m good-looking, saying I shine. You trying to make me catch feelings or something?”
That sculpted face—so perfectly shaped it looked carved—crinkled into a playful grin.
He was teasing, fully aware that hearing that from a friend shouldn’t make anyone’s heart flutter.
But knowing that didn’t stop Chi-yu’s heart from thundering again.
***
Hyun Tae-oh’s interview ended much faster than Kang Chi-yu’s.
It wasn’t just because he kept pulling annoyed faces throughout—it was also because of the way he snapped when the director pushed him for a longer answer.
“Um, Esper Hyun Tae-oh, for this part, could you give a slightly longer response…”
The question was whether he and Min Yu-hyun were secretly dating. Tae-oh had flatly replied, No.
But even from the start, he’d seemed irritated by the question. And when the director asked him to elaborate, it was the last straw.
“What more am I supposed to say besides ‘no,’ when the answer is just that?”
“Well, it’s just… the viewers were hoping for a bit more detail about that part…”
“If someone can’t understand a straight ‘no,’ that’s just them being stupid. If it’s not true, it’s not true. What the hell more do you want me to say?”
And that was how it went. The whole time.
The director, clearly shaken and looking like he might cry, kept reading questions off the page, while Tae-oh answered each one with the same sour expression and clipped, curt replies.
