“Have you both reviewed the concept draft? Here’s the final shooting storyboard and the costume list. Is it okay to move forward with this?”
“Yes, just a moment.”
Lee Han-seo quickly flipped through the documents he was handed. Since Park Woo-jun was practically glued to his arm, rubbing his cheek against it like a clingy cat, anything involving his Guide was fine by him. As usual, the actual decision-making was left entirely up to Han-seo.
The commercial was being produced in two versions—15 seconds and 30 seconds. The storyline, as always, was simple and the message, crystal clear.
In a crowd of students dressed in school uniforms stood Lee Han-seo and Park Woo-jun. An unexpected incident occurs. The two suddenly step forward through the panicked crowd to resolve the situation. Then, they turn to the camera and smile reassuringly. A voiceover follows: “Public safety. Protected by Espers and Guides, together.”
What is this slogan… straight out of the ’80s or something…
“Yeah, looks good. We’ll proceed with this.”
Even while grumbling internally, Han-seo put on his best professional smile. Public service announcements were always the same, and speaking up would only drag out the shoot for no reason.
“Alright then, how about you both change into your outfits first? Let’s see… filming will begin in about thirty minutes.”
Like a buy-one-get-one-free set, Park Woo-jun stuck close to Han-seo’s back as they followed the staff into the dressing room. Two crisp, sky-blue school uniform shirts were hanging side by side—identical except for the size. Seeing the name tags already attached—Lee Han-seo and Park Woo-jun—left him with a strange feeling.
After changing quickly, Han-seo stood in front of the mirror, absentmindedly fiddling with the name tag on his school uniform jacket. He’d joined the Center at fifteen, practically forced into it, and out of sheer defiance, had insisted on wearing a school uniform for another year or two after that. Maybe that had been his own awkward teenage rebellion. Now that he thought back, it was cringe-worthy beyond belief.
“What are you staring at?”
Park Woo-jun, now in the same uniform, asked as he adjusted the zipper tie. He wasn’t fixing his outfit—just curious about why Han-seo was zoning out in front of the mirror. Han-seo just shook his head lazily.
There had been times when Han-seo resented being born a Guide. But ever since meeting Park Woo-jun, even the faintest trace of regret had long since disappeared.
“Just feels weird. Haven’t worn this in forever.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of awkward for me too.”
Even though Han-seo was clearly trying to change the subject, Woo-jun didn’t press him. He simply reached out and tousled Han-seo’s hair, which was still a bit puffed up from yanking off his T-shirt.
Like this, it almost felt like they were just a pair of regular students. If—however unlikely—but just if, they’d met not as Guide Lee Han-seo and Esper Park Woo-jun, but simply as two ordinary seventeen- or nineteen-year-olds… what would that have been like? Meaningless what-ifs drifted through his mind. Ah. At the very least, maybe that Seo Ah-young—the one from “Park Woo-jun ♥ Seo Ah-young”—wouldn’t have been in the picture.
“Hey. If there’s anything you haven’t told me, now’s the time to spill it.”
“Huh?”
“I’m in a good mood, so if you’ve been hiding something, now’s your chance to come clean. Like, I dunno, someone else you used to date or something?”
“……Well, actually, Han-seo… about that…”
A random question, tossed out without much thought, landed a direct hit. Even Han-seo didn’t realize how loaded his own words were.
“What’s with that reaction?”
“Okay, okay—just hear me out. You know you’re the only one for me, right?”
“Park Woo-jun.”
So much for a moment of sentimentality. Just seeing the name tag dangling from Woo-jun’s uniform made Han-seo’s blood boil again. Imagining this guy in that same uniform, laughing and holding someone else’s hand… it was enough to make him want to wring his neck.
Even after hearing a long-winded explanation, the rage didn’t subside. So what if Woo-jun said he dated her because he couldn’t say no? That meant he probably couldn’t say no to holding hands either, or even to a kiss.
“……How many?”
“Huh? Wh-what?”
“I said. How many. I won’t get mad, so just tell me honestly.”
“Th-the, um, the thing is…….”
Usually, one of Han-seo’s fake smiles was enough to get Park Woo-jun to fold like paper. But not today. Alarms were going off in his head—more intense than anything he’d ever felt in a dungeon. If he said something like, “I stopped counting after ten,” he’d probably die on the spot. Just imagining it gave him goosebumps.
“How many people did you date that you can’t even give me a number?! Hey! I swear, today it’s you or me. Get over here! Are you coming or not?!”
Han-seo came charging at him, shouting, clearly ready to rip his hair out. Woo-jun darted around the tiny dressing room, trying to evade him—not that it made much difference in such a cramped space.
“Come here! Right now!”
“Baby! Let’s just talk, okay? Let’s talk it out. I’ll explain everything…”
Not that he was dodging because it hurt—he was an Esper, after all. A regular person’s punches felt like feathers. If taking a few hits would cool Han-seo’s temper, Woo-jun was more than willing to offer his cheek for hours.
“Cut the crap and—ow!!”
“Han-seo!”
Of course. What he was afraid of happened almost immediately. This wasn’t the usual playful smacking. Han-seo had been hitting him full force, making solid whack sounds, and then suddenly collapsed, clutching his wrist with a pained cry.
When subjected to continuous physical impact beyond a certain threshold, an Esper’s body instinctively shifts into a defensive state. It’s not something they can control—it’s an automatic response hardwired into them.
Of course, that defense doesn’t mean much when faced with a force even stronger… and compared to Park Woo-jun, a Guide’s body is as fragile as paper. It was only natural that Lee Han-seo couldn’t withstand it. What he just did was the equivalent of swinging wildly at a steel pipe. Woo-jun should’ve stopped him immediately—grabbed him, held him still. But he hadn’t. And now, he was regretting it.
“Oh my god, Han-seo! Should I call an ambulance? Baby, are you okay? Let me take a look!”
Han-seo screamed that it hurt like hell and flailed around on the floor, wailing that this was all Park Woo-jun’s fault.
Knock knock.
“Are you both changed? We’re starting in ten minutes!”
Woo-jun had no idea how he was supposed to fix this. Honestly, he just wanted to lie down beside Han-seo and sob too. The sky looked yellow. The shoot hadn’t even started, but it already felt doomed. And that feeling… yeah, it was probably right.
***
How was he supposed to describe the situation unfolding in front of him?
“Okay, both of you take your positions. That’s good.”
A blizzard? A polar vortex? No… not nearly dramatic enough.
“Cut! Hold on, Esper Park Woo-jun—your expression is way too stiff. Try to look more natural.”
“Like… like this?”
“Nope, still awkward. Hmm, how about a big smile?”
“Ha… haha… ha…”
“This isn’t working. Let’s take a break. We’ll resume at 3:00!”
Yep. A full-on disaster. That word fit best.
“Team Leader Park Woo-jun. What exactly are you doing?”
“Baby…”
“Do you realize how many people you’re screwing over right now? This is part of your job. Get it together, please.”
“Han-seo, baby…”
“We’re working. Let’s not have personal conversations on set. I’m going to step out and spray some pain relief on my wrist.”
“Oh! Then I’ll go wi—”
“Don’t follow me. I want to be alone.”
“…….”
Han-seo’s words were colder and sharper than a frostbitten autumn morning. Park Woo-jun bit his lower lip and swallowed hard, holding back tears. This had been the vibe ever since filming began.
When Han-seo crumpled to the ground with a scream, Woo-jun’s heart felt like it had caved in—but the amusement park had already committed to this time slot for crowd control. There was no rescheduling now. The shoot had to go on.
Woo-jun had argued to delay the shoot, said he’d cover the cost of any damages, begged to take Han-seo to the hospital first. But when the injured party flatly refused, what else could he do?
“Han-seo…”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“Let’s at least go to the hospital—”
“Didn’t I say not to talk to me?”
The sharp hiss of the spray-on pain relief filled the dressing room. Even that sounded angry. And no—Woo-jun wasn’t imagining it.
After that, everything was frozen. Emotionally, atmospherically—frozen. When Han-seo finally walked out, rubbing his swollen wrist, Woo-jun hurriedly wiped the tears that had escaped his eyes.
Sometimes he exaggerated his crying just so Han-seo would come over and fuss about him—but even a baby knew when to stay quiet. If he cried now, he really wouldn’t be forgiven.
Woo-jun stayed low and silent, keeping his head down. Best to just get through the shoot and talk afterward.
That aside… Han-seo was ridiculously cute…
Never mind that he was upset and drowning in guilt—Han-seo in a school uniform looked like he’d been pulled straight out of a fashion catalog. Fresh, adorable, and criminally pretty. Maybe it was because the uniform was the same design but several sizes smaller, but he looked so cute it made Woo-jun’s heart ache.
“Quit staring. You’re pissing me off.”
“Han-seo… how could you say something so mean to me…?”
“What. Is that worse than you dating a whole bouquet of people?”
“…N-no.”
Woo-jun swallowed back yet another tear. He’d lost track of how many that made today.
