‘What the hell?’
For some reason, he just didn’t want the two of them shaking hands.
“What’s wrong?”
No, it’s just—he doesn’t like physical contact with others. A plausible excuse popped into his head in an instant.
Because of the drinks Sa Shin-jae had ordered, they hadn’t even started discussing the actual reason for today’s meeting. If that overly sensitive little duck ended up getting upset over senior-junior interactions and stormed off, it would only be his own loss.
Yeah, that must be it. Satisfied with the reasoning he’d come up with, Sa-yoon nodded to himself.
“Sa-yoonie?”
“Yeah, let’s get them packed before the drinks melt. Hurry up and grab a tray. Let’s go to the counter.”
As Sa-yoon pulled his hand back and shoved a tray into No Seok-jo’s hands, the latter let out a strange snorting sound, something between a hum and a chuckle. Since he was the kind of free-spirited person who never cared about others’ gazes, Sa-yoon let it go in one ear and out the other.
“Twenty cups should be enough, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. Our dear Sa-yoonie’s making sure we get our drinks, so we better grab them fast. By the way, Sa-yoonie, did you know? Does your companion over there know, too? The life of the youngest is so tough.”
Seok-jo, feigning distress, draped an arm over Sa-yoon’s shoulder and leaned on him. But his gaze remained fixed on Shin-jae.
Why the hell is this guy staring at him so much? The kid’s sensitive, you know.
Of course, Sa-yoon had a pretty good guess as to why. Anyone with eyes in this department would want Sa Shin-jae.
Given the nature of their major, where securing good casting connections was crucial, it wasn’t unusual for students to network like this. So it wasn’t strange that No Seok-jo was acting like he’d found a promising talent.
Still, for some reason, Sa-yoon kept glancing at Shin-jae’s expression.
‘He was smiling just a moment ago.’
He was still smiling now, technically, but his mood had clearly shifted. Did he feel uncomfortable from being stared at too much?
That thought prompted Sa-yoon to reach out and cover Seok-jo’s eyes with his hand.
“Dude, don’t you have anything better to do? Stop ogling someone else’s actor and focus on packing.”
“Aye aye, sir. As you command.”
“Oh, except this one.”
Sa-yoon plucked a chamomile tea from Seok-jo’s hands and slid it toward Shin-jae. A calming tea would be perfect for an anxious little duck.
Then he picked up a tray himself and started transferring drinks, moving quickly to get Seok-jo out of there.
“I’m heading over first.”
With five cups per tray, Seok-jo seemed to run out of hands and resorted to nudging Sa-yoon’s shoulder with his chin before sauntering off.
He could just say it—why did he have to cling like some kind of dog? Sa-yoon had no idea why Seok-jo was so touchy. Was it just because they hadn’t seen each other in a while?
Tilting his head in thought, Sa-yoon turned to check on Shin-jae.
And there he was again—the little duck had made a reappearance. Except now, with the stranger gone, he had finished his image maintenance and returned to his usual self.
“I’m just going to pack this up. Wait here for a sec. I’ll get rid of him quickly.”
“Are you upset that I didn’t introduce you?”
“No? Not at all.”
His neatly shaped brows furrowed instantly as he spoke, making it clear he was being sincere.
“Then are you sulking because I gave away the drink you bought me without asking?”
“It’s better than letting it go to waste, just like you said.”
“Yeah?”
Then what was the problem?
“It’s just that being around loud, high-energy people makes me tired. Hurry up and send him off.”
As he spoke, Shin-jae rubbed his throat, looking genuinely drained. If this went on, he’d probably say he was too exhausted to talk and just head home.
With anyone else, that might not have been a real concern, but Sa Shin-jae? Absolutely within the realm of possibility. A sudden sense of unease made Sa-yoon wrap up the conversation quickly.
“Alright, thanks for the drink. I’ll enjoy it.”
“…….Okay.”
“But next time, just buy me one cup.”
“Got it.”
Judging from his obedient response, he didn’t seem too upset after all.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Come back quickly.”
Shin-jae slipped away from the window and shuffled toward a seat further inside. It seemed like he was finally starting to warm up to Sa-yoon a little. The way he let down his guard felt less like a duck and more like a wary stray cat.
“…Cute.”
Sa-yoon smirked and playfully tapped Shin-jae’s arm.
“Do you always—”
“Hm?”
“…Never mind.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Seriously.”
If he didn’t want to say it, that was fine. Sa-yoon just shrugged and picked up the trays. The untouched drinks wobbled dangerously near the rims of the cups. With so many stacked together, the weight of each tray was significant.
Focusing on balancing them took up all his attention, so he didn’t notice Shin-jae at all.
“…How can he be so casual with physical contact…”
So Sa-yoon completely missed the way Shin-jae’s ears turned slightly red. He also failed to see the way Shin-jae, flustered, kept rubbing the spot on his arm where he had been tapped, murmuring under his breath.
Once the minor commotion had passed, and an iced Americano and a hot chamomile tea were set in front of them, they could finally get to the main discussion.
“…So, is there anything you dislike when filming? Anything you’re uncomfortable with?”
Today’s agenda was to finalize the test shots on campus and go over the script in detail.
“Something I dislike?”
The question was returned with a question.
“For example, do you hate getting rained on, sweating too much, or sprinting at full speed? It’s better to sort these things out in advance.”
The sprinting part was Sa-yoon’s own concern. He had completed rehabilitation after the accident, but running full speed still felt like a strain.
“Not really.”
“You’ve read the script, so you know—there will be scenes filmed on both a rainy day and a snowy day.”
“I don’t mind the weather.”
“What about late-night shoots?”
“That’s fine too. Doesn’t bother me.”
“Then what about traveling for shoots? We might need to stay overnight, maybe for a day or two.”
“Well… if it’s necessary for filming, we should go.”
“Really?”
That was unexpected. Given how particular he seemed, Sa-yoon had expected him to have a list of things he refused to do. Maybe it was because he had worked as a child actor?
But according to what Sa-yoon had looked up, Shin-jae’s past work leaned more toward child modeling than acting. He had never appeared in a drama—just a few magazine features and commercials. So it was hard to say that past experience had shaped his attitude.
Or maybe, since his mother was an actress, he had picked up on things naturally while growing up?
“Alright. If anything comes up later that you’re uncomfortable with, just let me know.”
What Sa-yoon had expected to be the trickiest part was resolved surprisingly easily. He marked a big circle on his checklist and moved on to the next item.
“Do you have a preferred side for filming? Or any features you don’t want captured?”
He deliberately avoided the word insecurity.
Back in his freshman year, he had helped out on a senior’s shoot. Right before filming, the scene had changed to require a ponytail shot from behind. But the actor had a large scar behind their ear that no one knew about since they always kept their hair down. They had refused to film the scene.
An emergency meeting was held to decide whether to use a body double or change the shot, delaying everything. Since the location rental was time-restricted, they had to rush the final scene.
To prevent situations like that, these kinds of details had to be checked beforehand.
“I don’t have anything like that.”
“Okay, then next—”
“Wait, why are there so many items on your list?”
“We need to check everything before filming.”
Honestly, this level of detail wasn’t strictly necessary. But having these conversations before filming ensured efficiency and minimized unexpected issues.
“It’s better to prepare in advance. I’m not great at thinking on my feet.”
“Really? You seem like you’d be good at it.”
Shin-jae, who had been leaning forward to glance at the papers on the table, sat back against his chair.
“Oh, there’s one thing I want to adjust.”
“Knew it.”
There was no way there wouldn’t be at least one thing. Sa-yoon’s eyes sparkled as he got ready to jot it down.
“Payment.”
“Payment?”
The unexpected request made Sa-yoon frown slightly.
“The amount I offered is the maximum I can manage. I’m not exactly rolling in cash either, so I can’t go any higher.”
“I don’t need money. Instead, study with me during midterms.”
“You and me?”
“Yeah.”
“…Why?”
It was a genuinely confusing request.
“You said you’d share all the past exams last time.”
“Oh… right.”
He hadn’t just been saying that. If he actually put in the effort, he could probably get his hands on them. But if all Shin-jae needed was past exams, there was no need to study together.
Most people usually studied with friends, right? But considering how drained Shin-jae had looked earlier dealing with No Seok-jo, maybe he just didn’t like studying in groups.
“I’m completely clueless when it comes to business classes, though. Even if we study together, I won’t be much help.”
There were always a few juniors who wanted to stick around seniors like this. But usually, it was because they needed help understanding their major classes.
“That’s fine.”
Then was he just looking for someone to save him a spot in the main library during midterms? That actually made more sense.
“Alright, sure. Just tell me what classes you’re taking. I promised you the past exams, so I’ll get them all for you.”
“…”
“And for the ones we’re both taking, I need them too, so we can go over them together. What about your other classes? What are your major courses?”
