By Zephyria 
First, the ceiling height was ridiculously high. The first floor, which was a commercial space, had its shutters down, and it seemed this bar was using the entire first floor. Moreover, the interior was ornate and antique, clearly lavishly decorated.
It felt like I had seen it somewhere before. There was no way I had been to a members-only bar like this.
“Huh? This place…”
Song Hyun-soo, looking around as if he had stepped into a fantasy movie, dredged something up from his memory.
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been walking ahead, turned back.
“What? Have you been here before?”
“No. It just looks incredibly similar to another bar I know.”
“Which one is that?”
Seeing his slightly smiling face, Yoon Joo-ho seemed to know the answer.
“It’s a bar called Atlas Bar in Singapore. I think the atmosphere was exactly like this. Art Deco style or something.”
“Have you been there?”
Song Hyun-soo scoffed as if it were absurd and shook his head.
“I saw it online. What money do I have to go there? I haven’t even been on a plane once yet.”
“Jeju Island?”
“I sent my grandparents there, but I haven’t been myself. Well, someday, I guess. I’m still young.”
Tilting his chin up to look at the high ceiling, Song Hyun-soo said nonchalantly.
With low-cost airlines readily available, traveling abroad wasn’t impossible if one set their mind to it. But he wasn’t particularly keen on traveling. He had bought a designer t-shirt to try and keep up with others, and he had even driven a used foreign car that was practically a relic, but in reality, he was always struggling, always on the run. So, even if he traveled, he didn’t think he’d be able to enjoy it.
“Hmm.”
That was Yoon Joo-ho’s only reaction to the story of someone turning twenty-nine without ever having been on a plane. It had to be harder to find than someone who was still a virgin at twenty-nine.
Then, he started walking again, leading the way through the hall carpeted with thick material.
There were about three or four small bars, each manned by a different bartender, and between them were tables draped with curtains like bungalows. As is common with members-only bars, the interior prioritized privacy.
Yoon Joo-ho chose the bar in the furthest corner and settled in.
“There aren’t many people.”
“For us, it’s not peak time until at least 2 AM. It’s a weekday, too.”
A handsome man in a neat suit, who was either a bartender or staff, greeted Yoon Joo-ho with a smile. The man, who seemed quite close to Yoon Joo-ho, cast a curious glance at Song Hyun-soo.
“But, Yoon Joo-ho, it’s a big deal that you brought someone with you?”
“A big deal?”
“It is. How many times have you come with someone?”
Yoon Joo-ho, now seated on a stool, offered Song Hyun-soo the seat next to him and introduced him.
“A rookie actor I’m working with on my next project.”
“Ah, are you in
The man then asked Song Hyun-soo directly.
“Yes, that’s right. My name is Song Hyun-soo. Please take care of me.”
“I’m Seohae. I’m older than Yoon Joo-ho, so feel free to call me Seohae hyung.”
The two shook hands across the bar.
“Then I will. But please call me Hyun-soo comfortably too.”
“Given that Yoon Joo-ho brought you, how could I not? You’re going to be a star.”
“I wish that were the case… I’m working hard.”
Song Hyun-soo replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been playfully spinning his swivel stool, turned to Song Hyun-soo.
“Didn’t you boast that you’d become a top star?”
His gaze, looking down with lowered eyelids, was meaningful.
“‘If you can’t become a top star, take me back to Bogwang-dong.’”
He couldn’t help but recall the conversation they had before going to his bed.
“‘Let’s go to your mansion, hyung.’”
“‘……’”
“‘I’ll become a top star.’”
Thinking back now, that statement was no different from saying, ‘I’ll sleep with you, hyung.’
His face grew hot, and at the same time, Song Hyun-soo felt thirsty. He picked up the glass of water placed in front of him by Seohae and moistened his lips with his tongue.
“I will, but… it might take some time, that’s all I mean.”
“Hmm, I wish it were sooner.”
Saying that, Yoon Joo-ho ordered a drink without even looking at the menu Seohae had handed him.
“Johnnie Walker Double Black.”
It was the same whiskey he had ordered the day Song Hyun-soo first met him at ‘Jessica.’
Recalling that first meeting, when he never imagined they would become this close, Song Hyun-soo lowered his head and let out a silent, suppressed laugh.
“Double Black? Oh my, the actor must be feeling a bit prickly today. What about you, Hyun-soo-ssi? What can I get for you?”
“The same, please.”
“Not on the rocks. Dilute it with lukewarm water.”
Yoon Joo-ho added the specific request.
Song Hyun-soo unconsciously turned to look at Yoon Joo-ho.
But he was leaning on the bar, drinking water, feigning ignorance.
“When whiskey meets lukewarm water, its aroma becomes richer. It lowers the alcohol content while letting you enjoy the scent more, someone told me. When you’re having a shitty day, there’s no point in chugging strong liquor, is there?”
He was repeating almost exactly what Song Hyun-soo had said that day.
“You remembered all that?”
“I have a good memory. That’s probably why I memorize so many lines, right?”
Right. That’s true. But hyung is also someone who erases things he’s not interested in as if he’s never seen or heard them.
So, did I leave even a tiny impression on hyung back then? He wanted to ask and confirm, but it felt like a very awkward question. It felt like asking if he was even a little bit interested in me.
“I’m good at reading faces. Hyun-soo-ssi has the look of someone who will do well in that industry.”
Seohae, who was preparing drinks behind the bar, looked over and said.
“Really? Can you read faces, hyung?”
“Read faces? What are you talking about? I’m a quack.”
Seohae easily ignored Yoon Joo-ho’s sarcastic remark. It was a common trait among people who knew him well, including Director Bang.
“At first glance, you seem like a cheerful young man. But when you smile, the aegyo-sal under your eyes gets plump… Hmm, you have Hongyeom-sal.”
“Ha, you took a detailed look in such a short time?”
Yoon Joo-ho sneered, shrugging his shoulders.
“Hyun-soo-ssi is kind of my type.”
“He’s not gay.”
“You’re not gay either, but you can be with men, right?”
Seohae retorted with a laugh, as if asking what the problem was, and Yoon Joo-ho tilted his head and forced a smile.
“Your standards seem incredibly high. I don’t think you’ll succeed, hyung.”
It was a battle of spear and shield. A toy spear and a toy shield for children.
Song Hyun-soo quickly intervened and asked Seohae.
“Hyung, what is Hongyeom-sal?”
“Sssip… How should I explain this?”
Seohae narrowed his eyes and muttered to himself. He then placed a glass in front of Yoon Joo-ho and Song Hyun-soo, adding his explanation.
“If Dohwasal is charm that makes you loved by everyone, Hongyeom-sal is a charm that drives specific people almost crazy.”
Gasp.
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been drinking, suddenly leaned forward and pushed his glass away. He looked like he had choked.
Seohae pushed a glass of water in front of him and teased.
“What, does something strike a chord?”
“Don’t talk nonsense. It’s because you didn’t measure the water correctly, hyung. Give me another one. Make it again.”
Wiping his mouth with a tissue, Yoon Joo-ho pushed the drink far away.
Song Hyun-soo took a sip of his own drink. It was diluted well, maintaining a good ratio without being overly so. Yoon Joo-ho was definitely making a fuss for no reason. Yet, Seohae, looking amused, started making a new glass obediently.
“So, if Yoon Joo-ho has Dohwasal, Hyun-soo-ssi has Hongyeom-sal. Do you understand?”
Song Hyun-soo shook his head at Seohae, who was measuring water in a jigger.
“If Yoon Joo-ho is the definite center-type, Hyun-soo-ssi is the ‘shippable’ type.”
“Ah…”
Only then did an exclamation of admiration escape Song Hyun-soo’s lips.
However, regardless of understanding the meaning, he found it difficult to agree with Seohae’s words. Yoon Joo-ho having Dohwasal, loved by everyone, being the definite center-type. That was certainly true, but…
“To make a name in the entertainment industry, you need one of the two. People tend to emphasize Dohwasal, but in my opinion, Hongyeom-sal is more advantageous for a long career.”
“Ooh…”
As he listened, it didn’t sound like bad advice for someone aiming to be an actor.
“Ooh, what? Hyung, don’t instill strange ideas. I’m already scared I might buy a magic stone or a jar somewhere.”
“I’m not buying anything! Do I have money for stones or jars right now?”
“So you’d buy them if you had the money?”
Seohae, watching Yoon Joo-ho and Song Hyun-soo bicker with a look of exasperation, interrupted their conversation as he placed a new glass in front of Yoon Joo-ho.
“So, Hyun-soo-ssi, you’re under Look Planning, right?”
Whenever he was with Yoon Joo-ho, everyone naturally asked if he was under Look Planning. Because the other person was so convinced, it was awkward to keep denying it.
“No. I don’t have a company yet.”
“Ah… is that so?”
Seohae stretched out his words, glanced at Yoon Joo-ho, then changed his expression and smiled.
“I’m the owner of this bar, and also Yoon Joo-ho’s pilates instructor. We’ve known each other for almost ten years, haven’t we?”
Yoon Joo-ho nodded, tilting his glass in response to Seohae’s question. He seemed to like the newly made drink.
“Oh? Then, by any chance, is the person who taught you pilates also the one who taught hyung? Seohae hyung?”
“That’s right! Jung Ji-in, she was my favorite student. You know my acquaintances too?”
“They were in the same agency.”
Yoon Joo-ho stepped in to answer before Song Hyun-soo could.
“Ah, from UB?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Hyun-soo-ssi, you heard the news too, right?”
Seohae leaned forward slightly over the bar and lowered his voice.
“The former president of UB, the one who was reported dead.”
Thud. Yoon Joo-ho slammed his glass down loudly. He could feel his side profile being intensely stared at. This time, Song Hyun-soo raised his glass and downed the drink.
“Hyung, can you give us some space?”
Seohae nodded slightly at the low, serious request and quickly disappeared behind the curtain.
“Was that why you had that deathly look?”
“……”
“X-boy Scandal, does it have something to do with you too? Is that why you’re like this?”
Jigger. A cocktail tool. A hourglass-shaped cup used for measuring liquid ingredients.