By Zephyria “Senior, ‘cohabitation’ sounds a bit risky. Didn’t you mean ‘sharing joys and sorrows’?”
Shin Hyo-jin added with a laugh, taking Yoon Joo-ho’s remark entirely as a joke. The on-set atmosphere was always cheerful because filming was going well, so everyone burst into laughter at even trivial matters. Even Yoon Joo-ho did.
He mingled with others and laughed as usual, but Song Hyun-soo knew. It was an act. An act so smooth it was indistinguishable from the real thing.
He understood why Yoon Joo-ho was a top actor and a superstar. Song Hyun-soo himself couldn’t act to that extent. He could only manage a smile that didn’t ruin the mood.
Ten minutes, which felt like an hour, passed, and the sprinter stopped in front of the community center. Not only a truck carrying lunchboxes but also a coffee truck had arrived.
“Oh? Isn’t that the Knox Hotel logo?”
Han Joo-young exclaimed, pointing at the truck.
“Senior’s fans, did they send hotel lunchboxes? The scale is insane!”
Han Joo-young immediately ran towards the truck and lingered in front of it. The assistant director, who had arrived at the center earlier, approached with a camera and gestured to Han Joo-young as well.
“Actors, before you go in, I’d like to take some photos in front of the coffee truck.”
“Are we taking photos too? Not just Joo-ho Sunbae?”
To Shin Hyo-jin, who looked embarrassed, the assistant director replied firmly, fiddling with the camera.
“We’ll take some of Yoon Senior alone, and it would be even better if we have a shot of all the actors together. This is all for movie promotion. Even just posting it on Yoon Senior’s social media is worth hundreds of millions in advertising.”
“Wow, you see me only as money?”
Yoon Joo-ho said playfully, feigning hurt, but the assistant director didn’t bat an eye. Shin Hyo-jin took out her phone and asked Yoon Joo-ho,
“Senior, can I take a solo shot and upload it to my social media too? I want to thank your fans.”
“Oh? I should do that too. Hyun-soo, you should take one later and upload it.”
Han Joo-young also urged Song Hyun-soo, but Song Hyun-soo awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Should I? But I… I have so few followers. I don’t think it will be much help for promotion.”
“What are you talking about? We need to get help from Joo-ho Sunbae. Tag Joo-ho Sunbae’s account and upload it. You’ll gain about a thousand followers just like that.”
Yoon Joo-ho beside him chuckled and shook his head.
“This is… you’re so openly honest about it, it doesn’t even make me want to fight back.”
The four actors stood in front of the coffee truck, each holding a cup with a sleeve featuring Yoon Joo-ho’s face. Unexpectedly, Yoon Joo-ho’s hand rested on Song Hyun-soo’s shoulder.
“…”
It felt as if the weight of the world had settled on his right shoulder. Like in middle school, when just brushing hands with a crush made his heart pound with the thought, ‘Does he like me?’, Song Hyun-soo smiled his brightest for the camera, making a V-sign. He felt he was putting on a more strenuous performance when he wasn’t filming than when he was filming
Inside the community center, it was warm. About half the staff had arrived and were already starting their meal. Everyone thanked Yoon Joo-ho and said they would enjoy the food, and Yoon Joo-ho responded politely. As he always thought, when he acted like this, he seemed like a normal person…
The lunchboxes from Knox Hotel were incredibly luxurious.
Braised short ribs, seafood japchae, dried seaweed bibimbap, abalone jeonbok, grilled black cod, soybean paste stew, duck salad. Plus four kinds of side dishes. Everyone praised the lavish spread and taste, but Yoon Joo-ho’s chopsticks seemed slow.
Shin Hyo-jin asked worriedly if he was okay, as if he were forcing himself to eat, but he brushed it off, saying he was fine and enjoying the meal. However, even to Song Hyun-soo’s eyes, he didn’t seem to have much appetite. If it weren’t for the food sent by his fans, he looked like he would have stopped eating midway.
Even so, there was nothing Song Hyun-soo could say or do in this situation anymore. Chewing on the abalone, which was surprisingly tender, he couldn’t taste its flavor.
After the meal, a rehearsal with the director was scheduled. After brushing his teeth and heading to the set, Yoon Joo-ho was already there, talking with the cinematographer who was setting up the camera.
Approaching him, Song Hyun-soo bowed his head.
“Senior, you’re here early. I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s early. There’s still time left.”
“Still… I should have been here first.”
“As long as you’re not late, I don’t mind. Take your time.”
It was the kind of conversation and tone that might pass between seniors and juniors with a bit of lingering awkwardness. A conversation that maintained appropriate politeness while keeping a certain distance…
“Shall we have a cigarette?”
“Yes? Ah… yes.”
His offer of a cigarette was unexpected, as he thought Yoon Joo-ho wouldn’t try to get involved more than necessary. Flustered, Song Hyun-soo couldn’t refuse.
The two walked to the designated smoking area a little distance from the set. Yoon Joo-ho’s manager, who had been watching from nearby, approached and handed them a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Silently, they each put a cigarette in their mouths and took turns lighting them.
Unconsciously, a breathy laugh escaped Song Hyun-soo’s lips.
“Why are you laughing?”
Now that there was no one around to hear, Yoon Joo-ho dropped the formal address.
“No, it’s just… being like this, it feels like we’ve gone back to when we first met, Senior.”
‘Honey’s place’ smoking area, where we used to smoke side-by-side. We weren’t lovers yet… nor were we ex-lovers. I’d lost sleep just from knowing Yoon Joo-ho’s contact information.
“Are you laughing because it feels like we’re back to when we first met?”
“……”
It wasn’t a tone of sharp reproach. When Yoon Joo-ho looked up, his eyes seemed more wounded. He seemed to be thinking that our relationship had reverted to its beginning, and wondered how I could possibly laugh.
But he didn’t press the issue further. After a short sigh, he brought the cigarette to his lips and asked,
“Why that padding?”
Ah… Song Hyun-soo looked down at his chest. What he was wearing wasn’t the orange padding Yoon Joo-ho had gifted him, nor the black long padding he’d bought him before the crank-in.
He struggled to find the words.
“We… broke up… so I felt a bit…”
At the words “we broke up,” Yoon Joo-ho stared intently at Song Hyun-soo. The Yoon Joo-ho he’d seen on screen seemed capable of acting even with his eyes. That tremor was now shaking gently, yet precariously, in his eyes.
He moistened his lower lip with his tongue and then abruptly turned his head away, as if averting his gaze from a frightening scene.
“It doesn’t matter. Just wear it.”
“Still…”
“It’ll look like I’m the kind of guy who takes back even the things I gave you when a relationship ends. That’s why. No other reason.”
He spat out the words quickly and fell silent for a moment. Tapping his cigarette to knock off the ash, he then spoke in a slow, quiet voice.
“Or… do you want to send everything back?”
“……”
Yoon Joo-ho’s profile, gazing at the red ember, was impossible to look away from.
“Ah, you two are already here!”
As Director Jeong appeared, Yoon Joo-ho quickly put out his cigarette and moved away.
“Before we set up the cameras, shall we run through it ourselves?”
The director, who had returned after a short break following lunch, seemed to have recovered his energy. The two actors and the director naturally found their positions amidst the busy staff setting up the location.
“Alright, scene number 93.”
Director Jeong, with his arms crossed, pointed to where the actors should stand and instructed,
“Sani runs out of the bar first, and Kang-i follows. Okay?”
“Yes.”
The two answered simultaneously, exchanging glances.
S#93. Alley in front of Myung Hae-ri, Jeon Yu-jeong’s lodging (Late night)
It was a scene that could neither be forgotten nor be forgotten.
Upon hearing that Myung Hae-ri had been chosen as the location shoot, Yoon Joo-ho and I had rushed here that very dawn. Like twenty-something newcomers shooting their first film, full of passion, we couldn’t bear to wait and had to come immediately.
As Yoon Joo-ho had warned, the night sea breeze was not gentle, and Yoon Joo-ho had taken the hood directly from Song Hyun-soo’s jumper and given it to him.
‘Was the hood in there?’
‘You didn’t know until now?’
‘There was no zipper.’
‘It’s folded inside.’
After putting the hood on him, he adjusted the string appropriately. I remember stealing glances up at his face.
‘Why are you being so nice?’
‘I’m Baek Kang right now.’
‘Can’t you be nice even when you’re just Yoon Joo-ho?’
‘What is it that I can’t do?’
I had agreed inwardly with Yoon Joo-ho’s words. There was nothing he couldn’t do. Honestly, he was incredibly good to me.
Something churned within Song Hyun-soo. It was similar to seasickness, and similar to the feeling when I was severely scolded by my grandmother for an unfair reason. It was not a good sign.
Yoon Joo-ho whispered to the standing Song Hyun-soo. In a voice so low only Song Hyun-soo could hear. “Start.”
Taking that sound as the ‘action’ cue, Song Hyun-soo stepped out into the alley, pretending to run out of the bar. His steps were angry and panting, his face contorted as if unable to release his frustration.
“Lee San. Hey, where are you going, you punk?”
Hearing the voice from behind, I stopped and looked back. In Myung Hae-ri, it was Yoon Joo-ho, no, Baek Kang standing there. A large silhouette with his hands shoved in his pant pockets and his shoulders shrugged high. It was Baek Kang.
The seasickness, the feelings of injustice and sorrow, intensified.
“Why are you following me? We need to properly monitor that guy and my sister.”
“Why would I monitor Sori?”
“That’s why you’re no good, hyung.”
The rehearsal continued smoothly. Yoon Joo-ho and I had practiced every scene dozens, hundreds of times.
“Get married.”
“…What?”
“Marry my sister, right now.”
The argument between Baek Kang and Lee San was escalating.
“You were going to do it anyway! You promised me when I was three years old!”
Lee San’s shout began to mix with tears. He nervously looked around as if being chased and muttered.
“You should have gotten married before you left! Yes, that’s right. You should have done that. Then my sister… wouldn’t have become a traitor…”
Lee San’s eyes quickly welled up with tears. This was according to the script. But it wasn’t Lee San who burst into tears now, it was Song Hyun-soo.
『“That line. Aren’t the subject and object ambiguous? ‘Get married’ without any context.”』
The exchange we had with Yoon Joo-ho about acting that day was an unforgettable moment that I would carry throughout my life as an actor.
『“Are you serious?”
“About… what?”
“About whether it’s okay for me to marry Sori.”』
Conversations exchanged as if joking, yet not, conveying each other’s feelings while blurring the lines between the work and reality. It was a scene that held those memories perfectly.
Yoon Joo-ho’s gaze flickered unstably as he noticed Song Hyun-soo’s unusual state. To avoid crying, Song Hyun-soo tensed his nose and bit his lip. He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned yellow.
As if he couldn’t watch any longer, Yoon Joo-ho moved closer, enveloping Song Hyun-soo, and put his arm around his shoulder. He gently pressed his own shoulder against Song Hyun-soo’s head, hiding his face, where his emotions were fully exposed.
“Director, I’m sorry. I’ll be back after San calms his emotions a bit.”
“Alright. Let me know when you’re ready.”
The director’s worried voice was heard. Yoon Joo-ho, with his arm around Song Hyun-soo’s shoulder, pulled him somewhere. The repeated stroking of his hair made my nose sting even more.
This is a double update for HLCs 162 and 163 of
164
With my eyes fixed on the ground, I followed wherever Yoon Joo-ho led. The large hand on the back of my head, his chest pressed tightly against my back, felt like it was supporting me. Just like before the secret was revealed and everything shattered. His touch was clumsy but tender. Why. You said ‘the end’… you bastard. You shouldn’t have been so nice.
Yoon Joo-ho led Song Hyun-soo around the side of the bar building. Only when they reached the back alley, out of the staff’s sight, did his hand pat Song Hyun-soo’s shoulder a few times before hesitating and moving away.
They sat side-by-side on a concrete ledge beneath a small window leading to the kitchen. Yoon Joo-ho offered his cigarette case.
“Have one to calm down.”
Though he didn’t particularly feel like smoking, Song Hyun-soo took out a cigarette. Awkwardness washed over him belatedly.
“Was my acting that bad? I didn’t miss any lines. And at that part, it was supposed to be teary-eyed…”
“It’s not about that.”
“……”
“You were acting as if you were looking at me, Yoon Joo-ho. Not Baek Kang.”
Drawn, he turned his head to look at him. Yoon Joo-ho was also looking this way. It was you, Song Hyun-soo, who was crying, not Lee San.
He stopped himself from asking how Yoon Joo-ho knew. Perhaps Song Hyun-soo himself could distinguish between Baek Kang and Yoon Joo-ho.
During the dozens, hundreds of rehearsals for all the scenes in
So, there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed Lee San turning into Song Hyun-soo.
“I’m sorry. During the shoot, I’ll be more…”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been rubbing the back of his neck with his head lowered between his knees, suddenly raised his voice.
“Then why did you bring me out here?”
Whether Lee San or Song Hyun-soo cried, why was it such a big deal to you?
Yoon Joo-ho brought the cigarette to his lips and said plainly,
“Because I’m your senior.”
“Then will you keep doing that for me in the future? Because you’re my senior?”
What kind of senior escorts a junior out because their emotional line has gone astray? No, even if such a senior existed somewhere in the world, it wouldn’t be Joo-ho Sunbae.
“What’s wrong with that? Did you forget?”
“Forget what?”
Yoon Joo-ho stood up and took another puff of his cigarette. Then he stood directly in front of Song Hyun-soo, casting a shadow. The full moon above his head was half-hidden by layers of clouds.
“You’re still my actor.”
“……”
“For 10 years.”
Ha, a hollow laugh escaped Song Hyun-soo’s lips. Even after saying something like a child throwing a tantrum, he remained serious.
『“I don’t care what others think. They aren’t you.”』
Even then, Yoon Joo-ho didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t realize that those words meant he didn’t care about anyone other than me, meaning he hated seeing me suffer immensely.
Yoon Joo-ho is the same now.
Even though he lost his boyfriend position, he was talking about approaching me under the guise of a contract. Lost? No, it was an ‘end’ he had declared himself.
『Believe me. Yoon Joo-ho will never give up on Hyun-soo-ssi.』
Perhaps Seohae was right.
Maybe he had no intention of giving up, just lingering around, not knowing what to do. But this time, I had no intention of finding it cute.
“Come out when you’re ready.”
He called out to Yoon Joo-ho, who was turning to leave, just as he was about to round the corner.
“Senior.”
Yoon Joo-ho stopped walking.
“I won’t tell you the answer.”
“……”
“Find it yourself.”
Because otherwise, it would be meaningless. We would end up hurting each other over the same thing again.
Yoon Joo-ho, gazing intently at Song Hyun-soo under the moonlight, crushed his cigarette butt in a portable ashtray and said,
“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
After two rehearsals, the main shoot began. During the rehearsals, both Yoon Joo-ho and Song Hyun-soo stayed true to the script. The day they first came to Myung Hae-ri alone. The acting where they freely exchanged lines, becoming the complete Baek Kang and Lee San. It was perfect… yet neither of them wanted to bring it up. Like people trying to bury it in the past.
“Quiet, please. Preparing.”
The assistant director’s voice, announcing the imminent start of the shoot, brought silence to the set. Yoon Joo-ho and Song Hyun-soo were waiting inside the bar. Song Hyun-soo’s fingertips, resting on the sliding door, trembled slightly.
“Camera roll.”
The camera began recording.
“Speed.”
The sound recording followed.
“Scene number 93, cut 1, take 1.”
The youngest member of the production crew hit the slate, followed by the assistant director’s call.
“Action.”
Screech. Clack.* Lee San roughly pushed the sliding door open and rushed out of the bar. The camera on the rail followed Lee San’s angry steps with a dolly shot.
Soon, the sound of the door opening and closing again was heard from behind Lee San.
“Lee San. Hey, where are you going, you punk!”
Lee San turned back to Baek Kang with a look of resentment.
He pushed Baek Kang’s chest. Baek Kang, pulling Lee San’s hand down, laughed carelessly.
“Why are you following me? We need to properly monitor that guy and my sister.”
At times Lee San led, at times Baek Kang led, and the emotions gradually intensified. Though dressed in thick sweaters instead of padding, they didn’t feel the cold due to the tension and immersion.
Baek Kang, pretending not to know about Lee Sol’s changing feelings, and Lee San, resentful of Baek Kang and fixated on the relationship between the three of them.
“My sister didn’t contact you all day yesterday, did she?”
“……”
“Do you know what I saw?”
“Lee San, let’s stop.”
Baek Kang’s voice, which had been gently placating until then, suddenly turned cold. But Lee San was already too consumed by anxiety to think straight.
“While hyung was away, I… wanted to freeze time. So that nothing would change. So that when hyung returned, the three of us could live exactly as we did before. But it’s not possible. Time keeps flowing, and everything changes.”
Baek Kang returned to Lee San’s side, who was babbling fearfully. Lee San clung to Baek Kang, who had stopped in front of him, as if begging, and looked up at him.
“You’re not going to change, are you? You’re still the same, right?”
“San-ah.”
Baek Kang tried to embrace Lee San. Lee San vehemently refused. With a glint in his eyes, he looked straight up at him and commanded,
“Get married.”
“…What?”
“Marry my sister, right now.”
“Hey, what are you talking about? It’s not that easy…”
“You were going to do it anyway! You promised me when I was three years old!”
Lee San was now almost consumed by madness.
“You should have gotten married before you left! Yes, that’s right, you should have done that. Then my sister wouldn’t have become a traitor!”
Baek Kang’s two hands cupped Lee San’s cheeks, meeting his eyes.
“Lee San, shut up.”
“……”
Not as acting, but in Song Hyun-soo’s eyes looking up at Yoon Joo-ho, a tremor arose.
Lee San, shut up.
This was a deviation from the script, both in dialogue and action. It was ‘the acting of that night,’ exchanged privately between Yoon Joo-ho and Song Hyun-soo.
Song Hyun-soo realized it. The man before him was not Baek Kang, but Yoon Joo-ho.
Yoon Joo-ho, who had driven here at dawn to share acting, felt an unparalleled thrill, and then, without anyone initiating it, they had tightly held hands and run to where they parked the car. That Yoon Joo-ho.
Just like back then, goosebumps spread across his entire body.
Only Song Hyun-soo knew that Yoon Joo-ho was standing here, not Baek Kang, that Yoon Joo-ho was speaking of memories.
Song Hyun-soo had two choices.
‘If you let me lose my sister, I won’t forgive you either.’ — To ignore Yoon Joo-ho and act according to the script.
Or, to follow Yoon Joo-ho’s lines and feelings, as in ‘the acting of that night.’
Tears flowed from beneath his blinking eyelids. The tears seeped between Yoon Joo-ho’s palm and Song Hyun-soo’s cheek. Lee San, no, Song Hyun-soo, muttered to himself in a sorrowful voice.
“If you’re not my sister’s husband… then you have nothing to do with me anymore.”
“……”
“I can never forgive you.”
It was ‘the acting of that night.’
Without anyone knowing, they were exchanging secret words like a private code.
Yoon Joo-ho’s eyes, not Baek Kang’s, trembled violently and shattered. As if to say something, his lips parted. Just like that night. The regret of wanting to approach but hesitating at the same time. His lips, which had parted several times, finally closed without saying anything. All of that was just Yoon Joo-ho.
Yoon Joo-ho’s hand wrapped around the back of Song Hyun-soo’s head. To people watching, it would look like Baek Kang embracing Lee San’s head. But Song Hyun-soo knew.
Very slowly, he pulled him into his embrace. His arms, like coiled snakes, gradually and strongly tightened around his body. Song Hyun-soo rested his chin on his shoulder. Gripping his waist, he closed his eyes. Heavy tears flowed once more.
The feeling of the other’s breath and tremor flowing entirely into me was so special, it was more fulfilling than when it led to sex.
The surroundings were quiet. The sound of waves could be heard faintly. Just like that night.
In this desolate winter field, in Myung Hae-ri where everyone had left, it felt like we were the only two left in the entire universe.
As if there were only the two of us.
As Yoon Joo-ho and Song Hyun-soo.
“Cut.”
The assistant director’s voice, as if afraid of breaking something fragile and precious.
But it wasn’t over yet. Everyone waited with bated breath for the director’s message from the monitor room.
Even after the cut, Yoon Joo-ho didn’t loosen his arms. He didn’t let go of the person in his embrace.
“Um, Senior, cut…”
Only after Song Hyun-soo gently tugged at his collar did he pull away, his jawline roughly stroked. Slowly, with difficulty.
Was it his imagination? His face looked paler than usual.
Whether it was okay or an NG. As the signal from the walkie-talkie didn’t come for a while, the anxious assistant director cautiously sent a message to the script supervisor in the monitor room first.
“How is it going?”
[The director is contemplating.]
He hadn’t acted according to the script. Director Jung Joon-hee tended to give actors a lot of freedom, but this was a performance they hadn’t even rehearsed. He couldn’t be sure how the director would take it.
Regardless of whether the staff found it strange, Song Hyun-soo and Yoon Joo-ho stood facing each other, their eyes locked. Like sworn enemies harboring deep resentment. Or like Gyeonwoo and Jiknyeo, gazing at each other endlessly across the Milky Way.
Crackle. After the static signaling the radio connection, the script supervisor’s voice came through the walkie-talkie.
“Okay.”
It was the best feeling. He wanted to run to the man in front of him and shower him with kisses. He wanted to grab his hand, run to his car, and tangle with him like mad. Yoon Joo-ho gazed at Song Hyun-soo with hungry eyes, as if challenging him to a fight. It was the moment he was certain the other man felt the same.
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