By Zephyria “What’s with the hairstyle? This is the first time I’ve seen Yoon Joo-ho with hair like that. He looks so atmospheric.”
“Are you liking another guy too much in front of me?”
“Another guy? He’s a celebrity.”
“You told me no girl groups were allowed for me, remember? Am I going to get upset?”
“Okay, okay, don’t be upset. Of course, you’re more handsome! Yoon Joo-ho’s charm is honestly just his vibe.”
Song Hyun-soo’s face contorted with a sour expression as he overheard the couple’s conversation. The man in front of them was, at best, average-looking for a Korean. There was no way he was more handsome than Yoon Joo-ho, and the claim that Yoon Joo-ho’s charm was just his vibe was utter slander. Of course, the woman was probably just saying it to appease her boyfriend.
As the couple paid for their condoms and left, it was Song Hyun-soo’s turn.
“One pack of Marlboro Medium, please.”
While the part-timer searched for the cigarettes in the back display, Song Hyun-soo’s gaze drifted to the hot food display on the right. Inside, cans of coffee with Yoon Joo-ho’s face printed on them were neatly stacked. The coffee was selling like hotcakes, as less than half remained.
Song Hyun-soo turned his head to the left this time. Warm steamed buns were cooking in the round steamer. Eating one would keep him full until closing time. Meat, vegetable, pizza, injeolmi, red bean… Which one would be the tastiest?
Beep. The part-timer placed the cigarettes down.
“One pack of Marlboro Medium. That’s 4,500 won.”
9,700 won minus 4,500 won… 5,200 won.
“How much is this coffee?”
“It’s 2,700 won.”
A pizza hoppang is 1,500 won each…
Song Hyun-soo glanced at the hoppang, then looked back at the coffee can on the right. Left, right. His eyes darted back and forth.
“One can of coffee, please.”
The part-timer took out a can of Yoon Joo-ho, or rather, coffee, from the hot food display. Beep.
“That’s 2,700 won.”
It was at the moment his debit card balance dropped to 2,500 won.
He lit a cigarette in the smoking area in front of the convenience store. The alley behind ‘Jessica’s’ back door was less frequented, making it more comfortable to smoke, but he wanted to get as far away from work as possible during his precious break time.
Yeah, one cigarette and one can of coffee. This is happiness. Eating one hoppang wouldn’t make me that full anyway.
“Whoa, Yoon Joo-ho! Damn, I love him so much! What did he do to his hair!”
Song Hyun-soo, who was enjoying his smoke, flinched and hunched his shoulders at a scream-like voice. A student in a school uniform rushed towards a poster taped to the convenience store’s large window. It was the poster for Yoon Joo-ho’s new coffee commercial.
“You still like Yoon Joo-ho?”
“Still? I haven’t heard of anyone more handsome than Yoon Joo-ho yet.”
“What are you talking about? Isn’t Jung Ji-in more handsome?”
“No. Yoon Joo-ho is my type.”
“They say Yoon Joo-ho is really rude.”
“What does it matter if he’s rude or not? I’m not going to actually date him. Ah, I really love him. I don’t need LASIK. Human lutein.”
The student, who was rubbing their cheek against the poster of Yoon Joo-ho with a blissful expression, handed their phone to a friend.
“Hey, quick. Take a picture of me with my oppa.”
Making kissing gestures at Yoon Joo-ho’s poster, they took several photos and then left as boisterously as they had arrived. Song Hyun-soo exhaled a long plume of smoke and looked back at Yoon Joo-ho in the poster.
The style of growing his hair out during his hiatus and giving it a light wave suited the sweet coffee commercial perfectly. It was understandable why people were making such a fuss.
But Song Hyun-soo believed Yoon Joo-ho’s greatest charm, no matter what anyone said, was his voice.
“Forget that coffee. From now on, only drink NUBO.”
Now, even looking at the picture, he could hear the voice. He vigorously rubbed the top of his ear with his palm, his earlobes tingling.
What would it be like to live a life like that?
He must have been a star since he was three, so he never had to go around for auditions, right? He wouldn’t have had his stomach ruined by showing up at every drinking party just hoping to get a role. He wouldn’t know the humiliation of having to smile and bow to the junior staff, let alone the director. He lived a life of absolute privilege. How wonderful must that be?
Song Hyun-soo, who had unconsciously brought a cigarette to his lips, saw his reflection in the window of a parked sedan. He let out a wry smile at the sight of himself, wearing a worn jacket over his bartender uniform, smoking next to a utility pole plastered with flyers that read ‘Loans, Usury, Debt Collection Services’. He was a fellow actor, yet the difference was so vast. Not like a prince and a beggar.
The shortened cigarette had a strong, bitter taste. The coffee can was empty. The warm and sweet Yoon Joo-ho coffee, which had been delightful while drinking, left only a bitter aftertaste and the cold touch of the aluminum can.
“I don’t have money, maybe I should just quit smoking.”
Song Hyun-soo muttered words he didn’t mean, then looked down at Yoon Joo-ho’s face printed on the empty can for a moment before tossing it into the trash.
“Let’s go. If I go back late, I’ll just get yelled at.”
He returned through the kitchen’s back door instead of the main entrance, pulled back the curtain, and stepped behind the bar counter.
“My break is over.”
But no one paid attention to Song Hyun-soo.
“Manager, you go.”
“Me?”
“I’d rather die than go.”
“It doesn’t look good for the manager to go himself when there’s an employee available.”
“What if I die of a heart attack?”
“Jeong-ho, then you go.”
“Ah, no. Today is a day I look ugly.”
The manager, Chae-young, and Jeong-ho were huddled together, passing the menu back and forth and whispering. Song Hyun-soo, after washing his hands and drying them, put on his black apron and approached them.
“Why, what’s going on?”
Upon seeing Song Hyun-soo, Chae-young’s eyes lit up as if she had seen a savior.
“Opppa, you go! Here’s the menu.”
Song Hyun-soo, who had the menu thrust into his arms, took it and looked in the direction she pointed.
About ten years ago. After opening its doors in a Daehangno alley and experiencing glorious days, ‘Jessica’, now a rundown bar that had fallen out of fashion, was emitting a subtle radiance from its dim corner.
The customer was sitting at table B-12, the furthest corner seat.
It was Yoon Joo-ho, unbelievably.
Song Hyun-soo couldn’t believe his eyes. What? Why is Yoon Joo-ho here? Is it a shoot? A hidden camera prank?
“Why is our bar so popular with celebrities lately? Jung Ji-in comes occasionally because he’s friends with Hyun-soo oppa, but suddenly Yoon Joo-ho…”
“Yoon Hye-an is also a regular at our place.”
“Yoon Hye-an only comes once in a while. She’s not exactly a regular.”
Whether Yoon Hye-an was a regular or not, Song Hyun-soo didn’t hear Chae-young and Jeong-ho’s bickering.
He had heard Yoon Joo-ho’s name quite a lot today, but to have the man himself appear at the very end…
He was wearing a black long coat and a black hat pulled down low, but even just his lower face was unmistakably Yoon Joo-ho. The perfect harmony of a clean jawline and nose that would make a webtoon protagonist weep, and his sexy, thin lips that looked cold – there couldn’t be two people like that in Korea.
Song Hyun-soo swallowed dryly and adjusted his grip on the menu.
“Are you really going, oppa?”
“If he’s a top star, he’s a top star. If he’s Yoon Joo-ho, he’s Yoon Joo-ho. He’s not going to kill anyone.”
He tried to sound indifferent, but as he got closer to table B-12, his steps slowed and his mouth grew dry. Even after stopping in front of the table, he couldn’t speak. Yoon Joo-ho, who had been looking at his phone, noticed the shadow and looked up.
“Yes?”
The moment their eyes met, Song Hyun-soo thought.
First of all, I need to retract what I said about being the most handsome at ‘Jessica’. Yoon Joo-ho is the most handsome at ‘Jessica’. Right now, in Daehangno, no, in Seoul, no, in the entire universe, Yoon Joo-ho is the most handsome.
“Menu, hmm, the menu.”
My voice cracked, perhaps from nerves, perhaps from trying too hard to sound serious. I wanted to sink into the floor. I wanted to vanish into a wisp of smoke.
Even if I was unknown, how could an actor mess up even one short sentence? With this kind of performance, I’d be sure to pass next week’s audition.
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been watching Song Hyun-soo’s self-loathing with suspicion, slid the unread menu towards me. With those long, neat fingers I’d seen in a commercial just a moment ago.
“Scotch, please.”
“What brand would you like?”
“Ballantine’s… no, Johnnie Walker.”
“Shall I prepare Blue Label?”
“Double Black. Do you have it?”
“Yes. How would you like it?”
Was the answer that this secluded bar, with no other customers, carried Double Black in all its variations surprising? Yoon Joo-ho paused for a moment, looking back up at Song Hyun-soo. Then, as if to hide his face, he lowered his head and said quickly,
“I’ll leave it to you.”
As Song Hyun-soo returned the menu to the bar counter, he felt as if he’d been possessed. Ballantine’s… no, Johnnie Walker. Double Black. Do you have it? I’ll leave it to you. Yoon Joo-ho’s words echoed in his mind as clearly as if they’d been recorded. See, I told you Yoon Joo-ho is more about his voice than his face. People just don’t understand.