By Zephyria 
As the tiramisu served for dessert was mostly finished, Shin Hyo-jin subtly checked her phone for the time.
“Senior, you’re going to the Knox Hotel party tomorrow, right?”
“You too, Hyo-jin?”
“Yes, I really don’t want to go. I was feeling a bit better after resting yesterday and today… Now that Christmas is over, the year-end is coming. For the next few days, it’s a party marathon again.”
“Same here. I suffered until this morning because of the alcohol I drank on Christmas!”
Yoon Joo-ho said with a weary tone, bringing his coffee to his lips. He had left half his steak unfinished and barely touched the tiramisu. Song Hyun-soo was in the same boat.
“But it’s a party. I went to the Vogue Korea party on Christmas, and it was so much fun.”
Yoon Joo-ho let out a low scoff at Han Joo-young’s uncomprehending remark.
“That’s how it is for a rookie. Give it three to four years. See if it’s still fun then.”
“…”
“Well, that’s if you still have people looking for you in three to four years.”
Before Han Joo-young could retort, Yoon Joo-ho placed his coffee cup back on its saucer and looked around at the group.
“Let’s all get up. Hyo-jin, is your manager driving?”
“Huh? Aren’t we going for a second round? It’s only 9 PM?”
Han Joo-young said with evident disappointment.
“Didn’t you hear that both Hyo-jin and I have schedules tomorrow?”
“If I knew we’d be leaving this early, I would have made plans for later.”
Everyone was calling their managers via phone or message. Not wanting to just sit there awkwardly, Song Hyun-soo picked up his backpack from the adjacent seat and rummaged through it unnecessarily.
A piece of paper rustled in his hand as he reached into the bag.
It was a shopping bag containing a gift he had brought to give to Yoon Joo-ho if they met today. But given his mood and the timing, it seemed like today wasn’t the day.
“What about you, Hyun-soo? Hyun-soo, do you want to go for a second round with me?”
“Huh?”
Song Hyun-soo, who had been about to close his bag’s zipper, looked up at the unexpected, sudden question. Han Joo-young was looking at him from across the table, her eyes shining with anticipation.
Just how sheltered must one be to suggest going for drinks alone with me right now? One thing was certain: it wasn’t a small, local garden. At best, it was a canola flower festival in Jeju Island.
“Everyone’s busy. How about we have one more drink, just the two of us?”
“Ah…”
“I’ll pay.”
Even if you offered a two-million-won bottle of whiskey, I’d refuse. Because of you, my appetite was ruined, and I left the expensive fish and dessert untouched. I really need to go home and make ramen right now. He felt an urge to retort exactly that.
If they weren’t going to be filming the same project for the next several months, he might have grabbed Han Joo-young by the collar and unleashed his anger by now. Just like he had done to a senior from his theater troupe.
In fact, he had already done so a few times on sets where he had worked as an extra or a background actor. A glorious track record of losing jobs and being kicked out for losing his temper and not tolerating unfair treatment. But he absolutely couldn’t afford to lose this project that way.
This young master isn’t deliberately trying to mess with me. His head is just a giant Jeju canola flower festival… He tried to calm himself down, repeating this in his mind.
“They made a big deal about you being a genius admitted to a prestigious American university.”
Yoon Joo-ho muttered from the next seat. His tone was clearly sarcastic.
“Are you talking to me?”
Han Joo-young pointed to his chest with his index finger. Yoon Joo-ho stared at him intently.
“I don’t know how you got into a prestigious university with that kind of memory.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t you remember Song Hyun-soo saying he had work on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday? That’s why we scheduled this dinner for Thursday.”
“Did I?”
“They say graduating is more important than getting into an American university. Are you sure you’re not having trouble memorizing lines because you got in but couldn’t graduate?”
Yoon Joo-ho’s provocation visibly displeased Han Joo-young.
“It was two weeks ago. People can forget things. Why are you reprimanding me like this?”
“Ha. Reprimanding? You call this reprimanding?”
The two men’s voices grew louder.
“Then what is it? I speak Korean well enough to know when something is a reprimand!”
“Someone who knows this is a reprimand was just…!”
Song Hyun-soo knew what Yoon Joo-ho was about to say. So, he grabbed Yoon Joo-ho’s arm tightly at that point. There was no need to say it.
“Senior, your phone. It’s ringing.”
“…”
Yoon Joo-ho turned and met Song Hyun-soo’s gaze intently. Yoon Joo-ho’s phone, placed on the table, was vibrating.
Yoon Joo-ho licked his lips and relaxed his shoulders, lowering his gaze. He seemed to understand Song Hyun-soo’s intention. He picked up the phone and answered it.
“Yeah, where are you?”
Only Han Joo-young was oblivious; the already tense atmosphere had become completely hostile, to say the least.
Song Hyun-soo, who had neither a manager nor a car waiting for him, desperately wanted to leave first. But there was an order to things when leaving. Such etiquette was still required in the entertainment industry.
“Hyun-soo, where do you live? If we’re going in the same direction, we can go together.”
Shin Hyo-jin asked Song Hyun-soo cautiously. In a way, she was the biggest victim of this atmosphere. She was a third party with no involvement.
“It’s okay, Senior. Our directions are probably different.”
“Where is it? I’m in Oksu-dong.”
Oh… the directions were the same.
“Please, really, don’t worry about me. I’ll take a taxi.”
Song Hyun-soo waved his hands, declining, and Shin Hyo-jin gave an awkward smile without insisting further.
They left the private room together as their managers arrived. The restaurant manager immediately approached Yoon Joo-ho.
“Actor, thank you for visiting today.”
Yoon Joo-ho merely nodded his head slightly.
“We heard you left most of your steak and dessert. Was it perhaps not to your taste?”
“I had eaten before coming.”
The manager did not back down despite Yoon Joo-ho’s curt reply.
“I see. If you visit us again, I would love to treat you to our Mediterranean octopus dish. It’s our chef’s specialty, and I regret we couldn’t serve it today.”
Normally, Song Hyun-soo would have envied Yoon Joo-ho receiving special treatment, but not this time. He figured it must be tiring to have to respond to unwanted kindness even when feeling down, let alone receiving preferential treatment day after day. The manager, watching Yoon Joo-ho hurry away, licked his lips with a hint of bitterness. He then smiled brightly at Shin Hyo-jin, who was behind him.
“Actress Shin Hyo-jin, please go home safely. Actor Yoon Joo-ho’s manager has settled the bill.”
“Oh… really? Yes. Thank you.”
The group exited the narrow aisle between tables in a single file. Other restaurant patrons cheered, as if seeing celebrities at a movie premiere or year-end awards ceremony. Everyone took out their phones, and over 80% of the lenses were aimed at Yoon Joo-ho.
Whether he was treated as a pariah due to disputes with his parents or heard all sorts of rumors after his first movie in 30 years of debut. Song Hyun-soo was bewildered by the fact that people who saw Yoon Joo-ho in person were ecstatic and cheered for him. He couldn’t believe that these people, who were happily capturing Yoon Joo-ho’s image on their cameras as if receiving an unexpected gift, and the people online, belonged to the same world.
Some patrons followed the group outside the restaurant. They didn’t approach to ask for photos, but they continued to film with their phones held very close. Because of this, Song Hyun-soo and Han Joo-young were pushed around.
“Excuse me, this is a private time. Isn’t it a bit rude? You’re pushing us right now.”
Han Joo-young expressed his displeasure, but he did not receive an apology from them.
The onlookers, sneering, “Why is this unknown guy acting up when he’s not even being filmed?” Han Joo-young glared at them with an incredulous expression. Han Joo-young’s manager quickly got out of the car to mediate.
“Senior, I heard you paid the bill. Thank you for the wine and the meal.”
While Shin Hyo-jin was greeting Yoon Joo-ho, Song Hyun-soo also bowed his head.
“There’s nothing to be particularly thankful for. I’m over 20 years your senior, so of course, I should pay. I’ll be going ahead.”
With a stern expression, Yoon Joo-ho glanced at Han Joo-young once, shook his head, and got into his car.
The Yoon Joo-ho of now seemed like a different person from the one he practiced lines with. He seemed like the top star Yoon Joo-ho, someone you couldn’t casually approach and could only be satisfied with capturing from afar with a phone camera.
After all three cars had left, Song Hyun-soo let out a big sigh.
He put earphones in his ears and searched for the bus stop. He had no intention of taking a taxi. How much would a taxi cost from here to Bogwang-dong? He couldn’t take a taxi when buses were running normally.
Habitually, he played Choi Hong-seo’s song and started walking towards the main road. The area around Dosan Park, welcoming the year-end, was bustling. He slowly navigated through the excited crowd.
It wasn’t even 10 PM, but at the bus stop, a noisy group of drunk people, appearing to be in their early twenties, were shouting. Song Hyun-soo turned up the volume.
Open your eyes while washing your hair. It’s okay if the foam runs down, I’m an adult, an adult. As he hummed along to the song playing in his earphones, a car he recognized slowed down and approached.
A giant SUV, like a humpback whale.
He knew whose car it was.
“You said you were taking a taxi.”
So, he wasn’t surprised by the face that appeared when the window rolled down.