By Zephyria 
Yoon Joo-ho held the shopping bag up to eye level.
“Did this work for you, junior?”
“…No. Not yet for me either.”
“You want me to try something unproven?”
“That’s why I bought one for myself too.”
“Suspicious.”
“What’s suspicious?”
Yoon Joo-ho tilted his head slightly, fiddling with the crumpled shopping bag on his lap.
“If you gave this to me now, it means you’ve had it with you all day.”
“That’s right.”
“So why are you giving it to me now?”
He’s sharper than I thought.
Song Hyun-soo, with both hands shoved into his jumper pockets, subtly shifted his gaze out the car window. The Escalade, with its near-silent interior, was just entering the Hannam Bridge.
Yoon Joo-ho’s face was reflected in the window, tinted so darkly that nothing from the outside could be seen in.
“…I forgot.”
“You didn’t intend to give it to me, did you?”
Yoon Joo-ho, with a suspicious squint, was staring at him from behind. Bathed in the soft interior light, he looked like a scene from a movie still. Pretending to admire the night view of the Han River, Song Hyun-soo looked at his reflection in the window and quietly murmured to himself.
“Sunbae, thank you for getting angry on my behalf earlier.”
“On your behalf?”
He turned his face to meet Yoon Joo-ho’s gaze.
“Han Joo-young, hyung.”
“Ah… I just stepped in because the atmosphere on set needed to be managed by a sunbae.”
It was a typical Yoon Joo-ho response. Not that he was sacrificing himself for Song Hyun-soo, but rather he was just giving him a ride on his way. Not that he was taking Song Hyun-soo’s side, but he was doing what a sunbae should do.
He could somewhat understand the origin of the rumors surrounding Yoon Joo-ho. Stepping in to correct someone who was making the atmosphere uncomfortable was akin to taking the blame. In other words, it was volunteering to be the one who got yelled at. It was plausible that there were plenty of people in the entertainment industry with ill will towards Yoon Joo-ho for speaking his mind. He was someone who didn’t know how to sugarcoat things.
Tap, tap.
Yoon Joo-ho tapped the armrest with his long, neat fingers and added,
“Otherwise, I felt like you might explode, junior.”
He looked up from the armrest at Song Hyun-soo and let out a low laugh.
“Explode?”
“If you had a mutiny like you did with the theater seniors, it would be unmanageable. How could you film a movie together after that?”
Song Hyun-soo also laughed sheepishly. He took one hand out of his pocket and scratched his cheek, confessing his feelings at the time.
“If you hadn’t stepped in, I really might have. I’m usually shameless no matter what others say, but honestly… I was really embarrassed earlier.”
Yoon Joo-ho picked up the cigarette case on the armrest and took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. If it had been a cocktail bar, you would have known everything, wouldn’t you?”
“……”
He wasn’t trying to comfort him with elaborate words. Yet, Yoon Joo-ho’s words carried a solid weight. It was as if he was saying, ‘That’s nothing,’ or ‘You have your own area of expertise, don’t you?’ With those casually thrown words, something that had been stuck in Song Hyun-soo’s chest since the meal finally melted away.
Lighting the cigarette and exhaling deeply, Yoon Joo-ho rolled down the window halfway. The harsh winter air rushed into his face. But thanks to the heated seats, his body remained warm.
After smoking in silence for a moment, Yoon Joo-ho looked out the window, shrugged, and chuckled.
“I’ve never lost to anyone when it comes to poor social skills. But I met a formidable opponent in Han Joo-young.”
“Don’t worry, Sunbae. You’re worse than anyone.”
“What? Are you talking back?”
Yoon Joo-ho turned to him sharply, glaring, and reached out his arm as if to grab his ear. Song Hyun-soo leaned back to avoid his hand and raised his arm to shield his face.
This sunbae’s physical contact was unpredictable, hitting like a 911 Turbo S with its 2.7-second zero-to-sixty acceleration, without any gradual increase. In short, it was very hard on his heart.
“No, you admitted it yourself, Sunbae. That you have poor social skills.”
“Even if I admit it, you should deny it. Isn’t that social interaction?”
As Yoon Joo-ho leaned back to flick the ash from his cigarette, Song Hyun-soo lowered his arm and rubbed his chest.
“You only don’t do social interaction with me?”
“…I do? Social interaction?”
“……”
Pretending to smoke, Yoon Joo-ho avoided answering. It felt as if they were the only two left in the confined space of the Escalade.
“Actor-nim, which direction should we go from here?”
So, when Manager Cha’s voice came from the driver’s seat, Song Hyun-soo jumped as if he’d discovered a thief in his own home. He checked outside; they were already at Hannam-Ogeori.
“Ah, Manager-nim! You can just drop me off around here.”
As he hastily grabbed his backpack, Yoon Joo-ho amended the order.
“Manager Cha, turn right at the Hannam Station intersection.”
“It’s okay. I can get off here.”
“We’re almost there anyway. It’s the same here or there.”
Yoon Joo-ho, watching Song Hyun-soo, who was zipping up his padding jumper and preparing to get out, squinted.
“They’re saying it’s the coldest weather in 20 years, and you’re out here without a scarf or gloves, showing off like that?”
“How can a thirty-something man understand the fashion of a twenty-something?”
“Wait two more years. As soon as you turn thirty, I’ll call you an old man.”
Will you still be in touch with me in two years? How flattering.
The car slowed down as it turned right at the Hannam Station intersection.
“Please stop at the alley after Hyperion, Manager-nim.”
“Keep practicing your lines diligently on your own.”
“Of course. I’ll practice more than you, Sunbae.”
As he slung his backpack over his shoulder and made the promise, Yoon Joo-ho snorted.
“That’s impossible.”
He thanked Manager Cha in the driver’s seat and got out of the car. Before closing the door, he pulled his chin deep into his jumper and met Yoon Joo-ho’s eyes.
“See you next year.”
Yoon Joo-ho, stubbing out his nearly finished cigarette in the ashtray, gave a simple laugh.
“Take care.”
A brief farewell, devoid of any lingering regret.
As the heavy door closed, Yoon Joo-ho’s Escalade smoothly merged into the stream of traffic, like a humpback whale leisurely cruising the vast Pacific Ocean.
Hmm… Song Hyun-soo put his hands in his jumper pockets and gazed at the car’s rear. The mist from his breath dissipated in the air. He took his right hand out of his pocket and opened his palm. It had only touched for a fleeting moment. The skin where Yoon Joo-ho’s lips had brushed still retained a clear imprint of the moist warmth and body heat he had felt at that instant.
Song Hyun-soo, gazing at his bare palm, slowly brought it up to cover his own lips. He felt no cold at all.
■■■
xohongxosong Happy New Year, oppa! I like the photos you take, but I want to see your handsome face too.
song.h.soooo @xohongxosong I want to post my photos more often, but I’m really bad at taking selfies ㅠㅠ I’ll try. Thank you for always supporting me, and Happy New Year.
On New Year’s Day, the day before yesterday, Song Hyun-soo had uploaded a photo of the Han River sunrise he’d taken himself. He’d taken it on the rooftop outside his front door because he couldn’t sleep past 6 AM anyway.
On special occasions like birthdays or New Year’s Day, he usually received more comments than usual. On his way to work at Yoon Joo-ho’s mansion, he started replying to each of the 50 comments. By the time he finished his last reply, it was time for him to get off at the next stop.
Posts: 581, Followers: 2797, Following: 324
No significant change in follower count today either.
Song Hyun-soo slung his backpack over his shoulder and stood up from the back row.
The roads were still not great due to the heavy snow that had fallen the day before yesterday, the last day of the year. There were still patches of snow in the shaded areas along the alleyways. It took longer than usual as he walked carefully to avoid slipping. Still, he arrived near the mansion entrance with 20 minutes to spare before his appointment.
This alley, where you rarely saw people, only cars passing by or the occasional resident walking a dog. Today, however, it was a bit noisy. A group of four or five people, composed of various ethnicities and age groups, were taking pictures near Yoon Joo-ho’s mansion. Among the unidentified group was a middle-aged woman elegantly dressed in subtle luxury brands. As Song Hyun-soo passed through the guardhouse and entered the driveway, they glanced at him and whispered.
“What’s going on? Are they people looking at houses?”
He got into the elevator, guided by the security guard, who was now familiar and somewhat friendly. While going up to the 17th floor, he took a few elevator selfies.
The lighting in this expensive mansion elevator seems pretty good…
As he got off the elevator and waited for the bell to ring, he sent a photo to Jung-ho. He always had Jung-ho review his photos before posting them on social media. Apparently, the photos he chose as good were all bad. They said people who were naturally handsome lacked desperation.
The door lock took a little longer than usual to disengage.
“Hello, Director… Ni-eu…”
As he reflexively tried to greet them, he saw Yoon Joo-ho instead of Director Bang. It had only been five days since last Thursday, but Song Hyun-soo had to take a slight step back from the mild shock his face caused.
“Where is Director-nim?”
“He went to work at the company.”
Yoon Joo-ho, who seemed to have just showered, had lightly styled hair and was wearing casual clothes. He looked like he had just returned from a workout. Instead of his usual strong perfume, a lighter scent wafted from him. However, it wasn’t the scent of shampoos or cleansers sold on supermarket shelves, nor was it a scent familiar to Song Hyun-soo.
“Ah, slippers.”
Yoon Joo-ho muttered as if he’d just remembered and opened one of the shoe cabinets that lined the entrance.
Whether it was his imagination or not, he seemed to be in a bad mood. When they met at this house, there was always a relaxed atmosphere, but today he was like a needle hovering over a tautly inflated balloon. He didn’t make any silly jokes. His already inhuman face was expressionless, making it difficult to strike up a conversation.