SDM 26

[July 7, 20xx

I indulged in greed.]

July 7th was just a few days before Seong-woon entered Ryu Chae-yoon’s body. 

What kind of greed did he indulge in? 

Seong-woon searched through all the other notebooks in the side table, but there was no further description of this ‘greed’. It probably had something to do with Baek Sang-hyun. Even while inhabiting Chae-yoon’s body, Seong-woon could only understand his life in fragments.

Looking at this room and these notebooks, it seemed that Baek Sang-hyun meant more to Chae-yoon than he had thought. So his wish must have been related to Baek Sang-hyun.

Exhaling deeply, Seong-woon collapsed onto the dusty sofa. He didn’t even have the strength to go to the bedroom. As he lay there barely breathing, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and managed to pull it out.

‘Baek Sang-hyun sunbae-nim’

It was Baek Sang-hyun, saved with ‘sunbae-nim’ added in case someone saw it. Why him all of a sudden? They had exchanged contact information for the study group, but he never expected to receive a personal call.

As he was debating whether to attend the call, the call ended. It was past 11 PM, so it was quite late, and it didn’t seem like it would be a problem if he didn’t answer.

His head was already stressed enough, so why was he calling suddenly? As he was shoving the phone back into his pocket with irritation, it rang again. Seong-woon swallowed dryly and pressed the answer button. He was just going to listen to what the caller had to say.

“Hello.”

─ Ryu Chae-yoon?

“Yes.”

─ You answer the phone like a different person.

“……”

He was too tired to care. Today felt exhausting. Hearing Baek Sang-hyun’s voice reminded him of that situation where his heart had raced so much that he was on the verge of collapse. Jin Seong-woon’s emotions, which he had suppressed while reading Ryu Chae-yoon’s feelings, surged up.

─ Hello?

“…Please speak.”

─ Why did you act like that earlier?

“Like what?”

─ When you were talking with Director Shin Seong-ok.

“……”

He thought he hadn’t shown it. The twin siblings would have noticed right away since they knew about Ryu Chae-yoon’s chronic illness, but Seong-woon usually didn’t show signs of being sick or struggling. Even when his fever was nearly 40 degrees, no one noticed while he was acting.

“What did I do?”

─ …I hope it was nothing.

Seong-woon clenched his teeth. Maybe it was because it was night, or because his emotions were fluctuating after reading Ryu Chae-yoon’s diary, or because his heart had weakened. He didn’t know why he was acting like this.

“You don’t like me anyway.”

─ …Well.

For a while, they just exchanged breaths of silence. Seong-woon was about to hang up when he unconsciously blurted out what he was thinking as if someone else was controlling his mouth, it was something he would never say normally.

“I thought there was someone who treated me relatively well. No, not well, but just normally, like others. I thought that was okay.”

─ Yeah.

“But that wasn’t it. They didn’t care about me at all, they didn’t even bother to hate me, and like a fool, I thought…”

Director Shin Seong-ok was so kind and friendly to Ryu Chae-yoon. Overflowing affection, warm expressions, and even the handshake had just the right amount of pressure to feel good. Jin Seong-woon had never experienced anything similar.

If it had been due to Ryu Chae-yoon’s background, Seong-woon wouldn’t have been so discouraged. Director Shin Seong-ok seemed momentarily captivated by the pretty face of ‘Ryu Chae-yoon’, an actor who had only done one minor role.

At that moment, Seong-woon realized. 

Ah, Director Shin Seong-ok had disliked Jin Seong-woon too. 

Maybe he had barely suppressed his rising nausea and hatred, maintaining indifference to that extent.

“I thought they liked me a little, or at least didn’t hate me…”

Seong-woon couldn’t understand at all. What difference was there between Jin Seong-woon and Ryu Chae-yoon that made everyone like Ryu Chae-yoon but dislike Jin Seong-woon?

Objectively, Jin Seong-woon’s appearance was certainly likable. He fell into the category of handsome men talked about in society, and he didn’t think his personality was twisted. But the reactions from both those around him and viewers were always negative.

‘He gives me a bad feeling.’

‘Looking at him makes me feel bad.’

‘Ugh, Jin Seong-woon’s on, changing the channel.’

‘He didn’t seem like that when he was young, why is he so irritating now?’

That’s how his work decreased. The only roles Seong-woon could get were villains who would receive harsh criticism without anyone sympathizing, pathetic characters no one would like, supporting male characters who should never approach the protagonist’s position whether by the writer or viewers, or roles that absolutely needed acting skills even at the cost of negative reactions.

He got used to being hated. So much so that Seong-woon found it difficult to handle the affection and liking Ryu Chae-yoon was receiving now. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so shocked by Director Shin Seong-ok’s reaction that his heart raced madly. Isn’t it natural? Of course, Jin Seong-woon… of course… it’s natural to be hated.

“…I’m sorry. Please forget what I just said.”

Breaking the long chain of thoughts, Seong-woon hastily changed his words. It was embarrassing to say anywhere, let alone to Baek Sang-hyun. Seong-woon hid his beet-red face between his legs.

…He just remembered how Sang-hyun would occasionally call after the final episode of “Joint Investigation” aired, and his mouth moved on its own. He never called first, thinking the popular actor might think he was pretending to be close, but he made that popular actor always contact him first.

─ No one likes being hated.

“……”

─ If you decided to become a celebrity, your desire to be loved would be greater than the average person’s.

Sang-hyun whispered in a calm voice that suited the night. No one likes being hated, he said. A teardrop fell onto the dusty sofa.

─ Since I gave you some advice, let me ask for a favor.

“…Yes?”

─ Read something to me.

“What?”

─ I can’t sleep.

Although he wasn’t sure if he had really given advice, Seong-woon felt calmer and didn’t feel like refusing Sang-hyun’s request.

“…Should I read you a fairy tale?”

─ Sure.

There was plenty to read in this room, but it was all works Sang-hyun had appeared in, so he wasn’t sure if it was okay to read them. Since he said fairy tales were fine, scripts should be okay too, right? Seong-woon opened the “Song of the Sea” script he had pulled out.

“The waves that day seemed like the sea was singing. Gloomy and intense.”

Remembering Sang-hyun’s first narration that flowed over the backdrop of the raging sea, Seong-woon read the sentence. The dry scenery, and the even drier voice, it was quite an impressive start to the movie.

─ “Song of the Sea”?

“…Yes.”

─ You have the script?

And not just one. There were several fan-made ones and official merchandise released by the production company later.

─ ……. 

The silence continued for a while. Seong-woon waited a moment and asked.

“Should I continue reading?”

─ …Yeah.

Hearing the voice mixed with a sigh, now it seemed Sang-hyun was the one with concerns. Seong-woon briefly considered asking about it, but realizing he had his own issues to deal with, he focused on reading the script.

“If we don’t set sail right now, we can’t save those children. …Are you saying we should send more people to their deaths just to save a few?”

“Song of the Sea” was considered a masterpiece of disaster films, maintaining the tension from start to finish by intricately arranging the conflicts and cooperation among people isolated on an island due to a tsunami, as well as events occurring outside the island.

Sang-hyun appeared as a college student with a swimming background. Although he did not play a main role, he made a splendid debut as a major supporting character.

The script was quite interesting even on its own, and Seong-woon found himself absorbed in reading it aloud. It was only much later that he realized he could hear tired breathing from the other end of the line. After pausing for a while with no response, it seemed Sang-hyun had truly fallen asleep. Seong-woon was about to hang up but hesitated, gripping the warm phone tightly.

“…Sleep well.”

Perhaps it was okay for ‘Jin Seong-woon’ to say goodnight. After tossing out the greeting, Seong-woon hung up. His forehead was hot.

Could this mean Ryu Chae-yoon’s wish had been fulfilled? It seemed they had become entangled somehow. With a glimmer of hope, he quickly checked the hologram, but there was no change at all.

* * *

Waking to the chirping of birds, Sang-hyun stared blankly at the phone still clutched in his hand. The screen had dimmed to save battery, but he could still easily check the call log.

“…Two hours?”

The call with Ryu Chae-yoon had lasted a full two hours. Sang-hyun had called around 11 PM after leaving the production presentation after-party, so it had continued until 1 AM. But Sang-hyun didn’t remember talking for that long. He had fallen asleep before Chae-yoon had read more than a few sentences of the “Song of the Sea” script.

“……”

Calling Ryu Chae-yoon last night had been a mere whim. When greeting Director Shin Seong-ok, Chae-yoon was right next to him, so he could feel him trembling silently.

But Sang-hyun hadn’t paid much attention to that either. It was only when he returned home in a drunken haze and saw Jin Seong-woon’s reaching panic at his limit that he thought of Ryu Chae-yoon. It seemed he had been in a similar state.

The meeting with Director Shin Seong-ok seemed to have triggered something in Chae-yoon. But Sang-hyun couldn’t properly understand his words. Who could have treated him that way – barely twenty years old, raised as Ryu Shin’s youngest son?

“……”

Shaking his head to clear the lingering image of Ryu Chae-yoon, Sang-hyun briefly looked at Jin Seong-woon’s face filling the TV screen before resting his chin on his hand. Even Seong-woon’s acting and voice, which had served as a sleeping aid, were starting to show their limits. He had gotten used to them.

For months, Sang-hyun hadn’t really slept properly. He had managed to doze off briefly after picking pointless arguments with Ryu Chae-yoon at study group meetings, but deep sleep… this was the first time since that person died.

How much of the script had he read? 

Sang-hyun had only listened to his concerns – or rather, complaints that barely qualified as concerns – for a few minutes. So all that time must have been spent on script reading.

“I should get a phone that can record calls.”

Having slept properly for a day and feeling his body return to its condition from before that person’s death, Sang-hyun got up, quickly prepared, and left the house. His manager rushed over as soon as he mentioned needing a new phone.