LS Ch 35
by soapaTime passed quickly, day by day. Since they had to wrap up filming within the scheduled timeframe, they had to use their time very tightly toward the end. There were also reshoots, leading to late-night filming sessions. Being so overwhelmingly busy left no room for unnecessary thoughts. Jewoo consciously tried to focus solely on acting.
The final day of filming took place by the beach. The scene involved ‘Haeyul’ telling ‘Geonhwon’ that he would reclaim the throne as king after the death of his younger sibling due to illness. Haeyul’s decision was driven partly by the child his sibling left behind, but more than anything, it was to protect ‘Geonhwon’—the man who had given up his place as emperor, chosen to become a dead man, and followed him.
It was a confession, albeit not quite a confession, that he could make all those decisions because ‘Geonhwon’ would walk beside him. Jewoo wanted to express not just a calm voice but also the firm resolution behind Haeyul’s decision, so he poured a lot of effort into this final scene. Even after the director gave the okay, he repeatedly checked the footage and asked to reshoot. Understanding Jewoo’s passion, the director encouraged him, saying they could film it as many times as needed until he was satisfied.
“Sorry, let’s go one more time.”
Though the director had given permission, Jewoo felt bad for Yiwon, who had to keep repeating the same scene because of him.
“If you’re really sorry, it should be for something else.”
Yiwon responded in a disgruntled voice. Jewoo couldn’t say anything in return and just let out an awkward laugh before turning away.
Since the day he had asked for space to think, Jewoo had blocked Yiwon on social media. At the filming site, he kept a distance—just enough to maintain the level of a fellow actor. That didn’t mean they were outright awkward with each other. He treated Yiwon just like he did Sihyeon or Yejun, joking around and chatting casually. The only difference was that he avoided the subtle, secret touches they used to share and subtly stepped away whenever he sensed Yiwon’s lingering feelings.
“How long are you going to keep this up?”
Yiwon asked, his face full of dissatisfaction. Still, as soon as the director called for action, he flawlessly hid his personal feelings and got into character.
A week had already passed, so Yiwon was questioning if that wasn’t enough time. But for Jewoo, seeing Yiwon on set every day and still acting as ‘Haeyul’ made it impossible to completely separate himself from the character and think clearly.
“Let’s talk after the shoot. There’s not much time left anyway.”
This was the last scene. Once it was over, Jewoo could completely detach himself from ‘Haeyul.’ He wanted to finish everything and get some distance from the role before sorting out his feelings. Not understanding that, Yiwon’s face fell.
“I guess you’re not even a little sad about it.”
His lips jutted out in a pout. The expression was so childish that Jewoo couldn’t help but chuckle. Yiwon immediately shot him a glare as if asking how he could laugh at a time like this.
“After this, it won’t even be easy to see each other anymore.”
Jewoo almost asked, “Why?” but quickly shut his mouth. Once the drama ended, he would have some time off until his next project, but Yiwon wouldn’t. He still had his idol activities, another drama could start filming soon, and he was a semi-regular on a TV show. Not to mention his frequent overseas schedules. Unlike Jewoo, Yiwon’s situation was entirely different. It was true—it really wouldn’t be easy to see each other.
“And you even blocked me.”
Yiwon brought the topic back up, clearly unhappy about it.
“We’re still together now. If you have something to say, you can say it in person.”
“But this is the last time.”
Yiwon fired back immediately, leaving Jewoo with nothing to say. Instead, he just smiled awkwardly and turned away. If he looked at Yiwon’s face any longer, he felt like his resolve would waver.
Sensing that Jewoo didn’t want to continue the conversation, Yiwon didn’t push any further. Soon, the director called for another take, and both of them moved into their starting positions.
“I believe… because you’ll be with me…”
As Jewoo spoke Haeyul’s line, his throat felt rough, like a thorn was stuck in it.
Now he understood why this scene was so difficult to get through.
Because he wasn’t sure if they really could stay together. Unlike Haeyul, who was certain, Jewoo had no assurance. His own uncertainty was seeping into the role, shaking the performance.
He had been acting for years, yet something like this… How pathetic.
He swallowed a deep sigh and forced himself to focus. Once today was over, this confusion would ease. He had to believe that.
🎞️✮⋆˙
After filming ended, the director suggested they all go out for a cast-and-crew dinner. Some of the actors who had already finished their parts earlier weren’t there anymore, but the ones who had stayed until the end were all invited.
The restaurant was a large Korean barbecue place. Jewoo moved there with his manager, and upon arriving, he saw that even the veteran actors were there—but Yiwon was missing.
“Where’s Kang Yiwon?”
Jewoo asked a staff member as he took a seat. The staff member didn’t know and instead asked if Jewoo hadn’t come with him.
“I think he went back to Seoul. He has work early tomorrow morning.”
Another actor’s manager answered for him.
“Oh…”
Jewoo nodded in thanks.
He left without a word?
Until now, he had always known Yiwon’s schedule inside and out, yet this time, he had no clue. That fact alone was a bit of a shock. But then again, this was normal. Before, they had simply been sharing too much.
Still, why did it feel so disappointing?
He was the one who had pushed Yiwon away and put distance between them. But hearing that Yiwon had left without saying anything… It stung.
People really are selfish.
Jewoo let out a humorless chuckle.
“Did you get dumped now that filming’s over?”
A fellow actor sitting across from him teased.
Jewoo didn’t answer. He just let out a lighthearted laugh.
“How cold. You two used to be inseparable.”
The comment oddly rubbed Jewoo the wrong way, but knowing how he and Yiwon must have appeared throughout filming, he chose to stay silent.
“Cold? Didn’t you see earlier when filming ended? I thought Kang Yiwon was about to cry.”
A staff member spoke up in Yiwon’s defense. Was that true? Jewoo couldn’t remember. He had been too preoccupied with his own struggles during the final scene to notice Yiwon’s expression.
“Isn’t that kind of funny, though? Crying, really?”
“It just means he put his heart into it.”
The staff member firmly took Yiwon’s side on every point. The actor who had started the conversation frowned, seemingly displeased by that.
“Well, I guess it pays to be good-looking. When you’re that pretty, people think everything you do is amazing. Even you, Han Jewoo, fell for his looks, didn’t you?”
He dragged Jewoo into the conversation.
“Yeah, he is pretty handsome.”
Jewoo responded matter-of-factly, looking at the actor with a bright smile—one devoid of any malice.
“Not just handsome. He’s tall, has a great body, sings well, dances well. It’s almost ridiculous that someone like that even exists, don’t you think?”
At Jewoo’s words, the others nodded in agreement. The actor, who had been subtly criticizing Yiwon, seemed to have nothing left to say. He simply downed his drink in one go, then picked up the tongs and pretended to focus on grilling the meat.
“He’s improved a lot in acting too this time. Ah, of course, Jewoo, your acting is beyond question.”
A staff member gave Jewoo a thumbs-up, once again showering him with compliments, saying they were always deeply moved by his performance. As the topic shifted, the actor who had been grilling meat rejoined the conversation.
“It’s a shame you haven’t landed a lead role before now. Not like you’re any less good-looking than Kang Yiwon.”
While the comment was meant to support Jewoo, it also carried an undertone of putting Yiwon down, making it hard to take kindly. There was no need to create unnecessary hostility, so Jewoo just smiled and let it slide. Still, the entire dinner felt uncomfortable.
If I’d known it would be like this, I should’ve just left early too.
Even though he had no other plans, the thought crossed his mind. Then, he sighed quietly.
This was a first. Attending a wrap-up party only to be lost in other thoughts.
In so many ways, Kang Yiwon was completely throwing off his usual patterns.
Was it because he had gotten too immersed in the role?
Jewoo lowered his gaze and looked at his own hand. The sensation of holding ‘Geonhwon’s’ hand during the final scene still lingered.
He hadn’t completely let go of ‘Haeyul’ yet.
Was it because this time, he had played the lead? Unlike past projects, he had become deeply absorbed in the role’s emotions, and the lingering feeling of the final scene seemed to last longer than usual. He tried to convince himself that it was simply proof of how hard he had worked, but the more he did, the more hollow he felt.
This is bad.
Even though filming had ended, it wasn’t going to be easy to separate himself from ‘Haeyul.’
“What are you going to do now, Jewoo?”
Since he had spent the past few months practically living on set, it was only natural for someone to ask what he planned to do during his break.
“I’m going to travel.”
“Where to?”
The staff member’s eyes sparkled at the mention of travel.
“That’s a secret.”
Jewoo answered with a playful smile, prompting groans and teasing remarks about how he must be going somewhere amazing if he had to keep it a secret.
“You’re traveling? Where to?”
Yiwon had asked the same question before.
“What do you want to know for? Thinking of following me?”
Jewoo had asked jokingly, but Yiwon hadn’t denied it. If he had the time, he really might have shown up.
That was exactly why Jewoo had kept it a secret.
And that was the same reason he wasn’t saying anything now. If the staff knew, the news would inevitably reach Yiwon.
What Han Jewoo needed was time without Kang Yiwon.
So this time, even if he was resented for being too cold, he was determined to turn away.