TBM Vol 1 Part 13
by CherryIl-seo recalled washing his hands and applying hand cream when he heard a rustling noise in the toilet stall. Absentmindedly, he turned and noticed a phone peeking out from above.
His suspicions had been confirmed when a man suddenly burst out of the stall and pushed him. Everything after that was a blur—a scuffle, a sharp pain in his thigh, and then his body giving out. Fortunately, the attacker dropped the knife and fled in panic, sparing anyone else from harm.
He hadn’t known the man was Seung-yeon’s stalker. Seung-yeon brushed his bangs back and sighed.
“I’m sorry. It feels like you got hurt because of me,” he said softly.
“No… Anyone would’ve done the same thing,” Il-seo replied, though he was relieved that the stalker had been caught before more damage could be done.
But as Seung-yeon slumped his shoulders in relief, his voice took on a colder tone.
“I wouldn’t have done that.”
Il-seo’s eyes opened wide. He turned to see Seung-yeon smiling slightly, but it wasn’t his usual smile—his dimples were absent, and his eyes were cold. His expression was unreadable.
“To recklessly confront someone like that, in such a confined space… If I were you, I wouldn’t have done that.”
“… …”
“Even if that video had spread, it wouldn’t have hurt me much. It’s not my fault, and I would’ve just sued them. At most, I’d get some sympathy.”
Il-seo didn’t know what to say.
“There were other Alphas around. Plenty of people you could’ve called for help. Next time, don’t try to handle everything on your own and don’t end up getting hurt,” Seung-yeon continued.
Il-seo, who was listening with a calm expression, finally spoke up.
“Did you come here… to scold me?”
It was true that there had been stronger, larger Alphas on set, and Seung-yeon himself had overpowered people effortlessly in the past.
Perhaps if Il-seo had asked for help, he could have subdued the attacker without getting injured. But at the time, he hadn’t even considered that his opponent might be armed, and he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make rational decisions. He understood why Kyung-hyun had been angry, but Seung-yeon’s cold words left him feeling more hurt than anything.
Trying to muster a smile, Il-seo said,
“I don’t know… I think I would’ve acted the same way if I were in that situation again. If it had been my senior who was targeted, I’d have done even more…”
Seung-yeon’s harsh expression softened slightly when he saw the hurting Il-seo’s face. He sighed and said quietly,
“I’m sorry. I was upset because you got hurt.”
Il-seo didn’t believe him but nodded anyway. Seung-yeon, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check, reached out and gently touched the back of his hand. His hand was cold and bony under his palm.
“I was harsh on you last time,” he said, revealing the real reason he had been keeping watch at the hospital for so long.
Il-seo blinked a few times and then answered in a subdued tone.
“No… I’ll be more careful from now on.”
Seung-yeon hadn’t come to scold him, but Il-seo looked deflated, like a student who had been reprimanded. This wasn’t the reaction he had been hoping for. Just as he was thinking of how to lift his spirits, Kyung-hyun returned with the doctor.
startled, Il-seo shook off the hand held by Seung-yeon and greeted Kyung-hyun with an awkward smile. Sensing his discomfort, Seung-yeon stood up without hesitation. Il-seo’s gaze followed him as he left the room without looking back, his steps were brisk.
He had said what he needed to, and now that Il-seo was awake, he felt his job was done.
The filming schedule was postponed by ten days, giving Seung-yeon some unexpected time to promote the movie. The film was doing well through word of mouth, and with a flood of interviews and advertising schedules, he was busier than when he was just filming. After barely managing to adjust his schedule, he finally had a full day off.
That morning, Seung-yeon exercised and returned home, relishing the rare leisure he hadn’t enjoyed in a long time. After a light breakfast of a protein shake and a chicken breast salad, he settled on the sofa and played a movie. His eyes drifted towards the ticket on the table. It had been sitting there for a week, completely forgotten. It was an exhibition ticket from an actor who had worked on the movie.
His younger brother, a photographer who had won an award in a prestigious international competition, was hosting an exhibition in collaboration with an overseas installation artist. Knowing Seung-yeon’s love for photography, the actor had given him two invitations, telling him to drop by if he was interested.
Seung-yeon stared blankly at the tickets before picking up his phone. He dialed an unsaved number, and a message from Lee Il-seo popped up in his mind.
“I wonder if he’s been discharged.”
Since that day, he hadn’t contacted Il-seo, nor had he reached out to him. Seung-yeon had felt guilty about his harsh words in the hospital and had ended up staying longer, only to make things worse by deepening his discomfort. Frowning slightly, he typed out a message. Less than five minutes later, instead of a reply, his phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Senior, it’s Il-seo.”
“I know.”
“Oh, yes. I was discharged last week. I had my stitches out yesterday, and I can walk without any issues now. I’m ready for the photoshoot tomorrow.”
“Do you want to go and see the exhibition with me?”
There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a small intake of breath.
“With me?”
“Yes, with you.”
“…Why—oh, okay.”
Though Seung-yeon clearly heard him hesitate, Il-seo quickly agreed. Smiling, he asked if he could come out immediately, to which he responded that he could be there in thirty minutes. He sent him the address of the exhibition hall and received a quick reply: “I’ll leave right away.”
“Yes,” he texted back with a smirk, adding, “^^”
Wearing a deep hat and comfortable clothes, Seung-yeon grabbed his keys and left the house. He habitually turned on the music in his car but soon turned it off after a moment’s thought.
The atmosphere between him and Il-seo had been strained lately, and today, he wanted to focus on making him feel at ease. He’d take care of him, make sure he was comfortable, and maybe even treat him to a good meal afterward.
Once he parked and reached the exhibition hall, he spotted Il-seo standing by the entrance, flipping through a pamphlet with a focused look. He wore a thin long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. His black hair appeared lighter in the morning sunlight, and as the breeze blew, his clothes fluttered, revealing his notably slender frame.
Seeing him like this, Seung-yeon realized that despite how mature he seemed on set, he looked no older than twenty. When he noticed him, he immediately turned his head and smiled.
“You’re here?”
His complexion had improved since he last saw him in the hospital, where his face had been ghostly pale. Now, his cheeks had a bit of color, and his earlobes were burning red.
“Are you hot? Your ears are red,” Seung-yeon asked, reaching out to check. Before he could touch him, Il-seo stepped back slightly, covering his ear.
“Oh, no…,” he muttered, clearly flustered.
Seung-yeon sighed inwardly. It was just like in the hospital room when he pulled his hand away—he couldn’t hide his discomfort. Still, he let it go and smiled, deciding not to push him.
They handed over their tickets at the entrance, and though the ticket inspector seemed to glance at Seung-yeon’s face under his hat, he didn’t make much of a fuss. Il-seo handed him one of the pamphlets he had picked up.
“Here’s the pamphlet.”
Seung-yeon wasn’t particularly interested in pamphlets, but since he had made the effort, he took it and gave it a quick glance before they began their tour.
The exhibition featured sculptures paired with large photographs, and each room had its own distinct theme and atmosphere. Room 1 had large windows, allowing sunlight to stream in, with rough white sand covering the floor. In contrast, Room 2 was bathed in red light, with old electronic devices mounted on the walls and iron stairs that they had to climb.
Seung-yeon noticed that Il-seo seemed to limp slightly on the stairs. When he placed his hand on his forearm to steady him, he quickly bowed his head in thanks.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the exhibition would be like this.”
“It’s fine. I’m almost fully healed. It’s just the stairs that are a bit uncomfortable.”
As they continued, Seung-yeon couldn’t help but smile at Il-seo’s earnestness. He approached the exhibition with the same dedication as he did on set, faithfully following the instructions for each piece. His enthusiasm was endearing, even if it was a little awkward.
Before entering the last gallery, Seung-yeon raised his eyebrows.
A short cautionary note was posted at the entrance, warning visitors that the space was dark, and they would need to walk through narrow corridors while observing the photos.
“It’s a dark gallery,” Il-seo said, peeking inside.
“Yes, but there won’t be any stairs,” Seung-yeon assured him.
They stepped into the black passage, the only light coming from a distant screen displaying landscape photos. The corridor was narrow, just wide enough for one person, and they had to follow the wall to stay on track. Seung-yeon found the experience oddly immersive, as if walking from a dark cave into a lush forest.
Suddenly, he felt a hand grasping his arm from behind. He stopped and heard Il-seo’s slightly rapid breathing in the quiet darkness.
“Let’s walk together.”
“Am I going too fast?”
“Ah… yes, a little.”
Seung-yeon smiled faintly, even though he couldn’t see him. The narrow passage didn’t allow him to walk beside him and support him, so instead, he gently removed his hand from his elbow and wrapped his arm around his wrist, interlocking their fingers.
“If you have trouble walking, then lean on me. You can put your weight on my back.”
“Ah, okay.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Yes, I’m sorry…”
Seung-yeon sighed, his frustration simmering. He looked at his leg, wondering if the wound had reopened.
“Is it torn again? Why are you struggling so much?”
“No, it’s not torn. I just felt a little sick…”
His faint smile tugged at his empathy. Perhaps the sensory overload of the exhibition had triggered some kind of nausea. He realized that he might have chosen the wrong venue for their outing.
He softened his tone.
“I made a reservation at a restaurant. Can we go?”
“Food?” Il-seo seemed surprised. He had assumed they’d part ways after the exhibition, but Seung-yeon had other plans.
“If it’s too much, we can go home,” he added.
“No, no. Let’s go. I’d like to eat.”
Il-seo’s eager reply contrasted with his earlier weariness. Despite their two-year age difference, his expression made him seem much younger than himself, it was almost childlike.
As they exited the hall, the air outside was filled with the buzz of people and the flashing of cameras. A small crowd had gathered, recognizing Seung-yeon. He barely acknowledged the attention as he led Il-seo to the car.
“Get in,” he said while opening the door for him.
Il-seo hesitated momentarily, aware of the gazes following him, but quickly slid into the passenger seat. Seung-yeon joined him and steered the car toward an alley to avoid the crowd.
“Do you eat fish?”
“Yes.”
“Any allergies?”
“None.”
Satisfied, Seung-yeon drove off, leaving the noise and attention behind them.
Instead of walking down the street surrounded by people, he chose to back up and took the alleyway.
Only after getting on the road did Il-seo let out a small breath.
– Isn’t that him? The actor who was cast after selling his body to Chae Geum-soo.
Did he hear? It was close enough for Seung-yeon to hear. Il-seo turned his head to the car window while holding his fingers together.
He had been worried about Seung-yeon the whole time, perhaps because he had experienced the painful experience of rumors turning into facts while he was still and becoming the truth in an instant.
It was unfair, but Il-seo didn’t have the luxury to argue. He swallowed the frustration. Seung-yeon, who was still focused on driving, didn’t say much either.
The sedan pulled into a quiet neighborhood, finally slowing down in front of a Japanese restaurant. A staff member in a suit greeted them politely and took the car keys. Once inside, they were shown to a private room. Seung-yeon, familiar with the place, ordered two omakase courses without hesitation.
After the sliding door closed, there was a brief silence. Il-seo wiped his hands with a wet towel and gazed at the large glass window above. Through it, he could see green leaves swaying in the wind, a few already tinged with the orange hues of autumn.
These days, he often found himself wondering if things could really be this good. His life had been so bleak for so long that he used to doubt if there was any fairness in the world. But now, unbelievable things happened daily. Not only was he working on a drama with Seung-yeon, someone he had long admired, but he was also sitting here with him in a private setting.
It felt surreal to him.
He tried to keep up the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting. He found himself glancing at Seung-yeon more than once, still not entirely convinced this wasn’t some dream. Their eyes met, and Seung-yeon tilted his head slightly.
“Do I have something on my face?”
“Oh, no,” Il-seo stammered, quickly averting his gaze. He wanted to make a joke, something like “You’re so dazzling, you must have a bit of the sun on you,” but stopped himself, not wanting to sound corny. Instead, he changed the subject.
“I heard your movie got 4 million tickets sold. Congratulations.”
“I couldn’t rest because of that,” Seung-yeon replied with a small smile, sipping his tea. Il-seo smiled back, then mirrored his action, taking a sip from his cup. He couldn’t help but feel ridiculous for copying him so directly.
“What did you do for the last ten days?”
“I just rested. After I was discharged, I read the script and practiced the guitar scenes. We still need to finish those.”