TBM Vol 1 Part 5

In the living room, where not a single light was on, dull music played on a loop. When the song reached its end, it would start over, only to repeat again. Seung-yeon, who was sprawled lazily on the sofa in the sparsely furnished room, eventually picked up the remote and turned off the speaker.

“I’m sorry today’s filming got postponed because of me.”

Seung-yeon, with the script covering his face, frowned. Despite the music, unnecessary thoughts kept intruding. Unable to concentrate, he let out a long sigh, rose from the sofa, and grabbed his coat and keys. He left the house without a second thought.

Despite his reluctance, Dong-young had insisted him. Even after he turned down his third request to meet, he showed up in his neighborhood. Only his manager and the company president knew his address, but Dong-young had somehow found his way there, pleading over the phone. Eventually, Seung-yeon agreed to meet him at a nearby tavern.

The place was a little off the beaten path, popular with regulars. The air conditioning had cooled the inside, offering relief from the lingering summer heat. He made his way to the reserved room on the second floor and slid the door open. Dong-young, already seated with a drink in his hand, looked up at him, with displeasure evident on his expression.

“You’re being too difficult,” he complained.

“I’ve started filming. So I’m busy,” he replied curtly.

Dong-young snorted, downing his drink before refilling his glass. Seung-yeon joined him at the table, pouring himself a drink as well.

“You heartless brat,” he muttered.

“I don’t have much time.”

“You’re working on the Chae Geum-soo project, right?”

Seung-yeon tilted his head back, drinking the alcohol in one gulp. He looked at Dong-young, who was staring at him with a strange expression, seemingly on the verge of saying something but holding back.

“Lee Il-seo,” he finally said.

Seung-yeon swallowed. The name made him raise an eyebrow. Lee Il-seo, the actor who had ruined the atmosphere on set with an awkward kiss scene just the day before.

“Director Chae chose him, didn’t he?” Dong-young asked.

He nodded indifferently. After all, Director Chae had handpicked the rookie actor. It made sense that he would be involved with him. Seeing his reaction, Dong-young ruffled his hair in frustration.

“Doesn’t that guy bother you?”

Seung-yeon tilted his head, thinking of the clumsy way Il-seo had approached him on the set, while offering back the caramel. “Not really,” he said. The gesture had been more persistent than annoying.

Dong-young’s eyes narrowed at his response. He downed his drink and then launched into a story.

“I almost didn’t debut because of Lee Il-seo.”

Seung-yeon looked up, intrigued by the change in his tone. He knew Dong-young and Il-seo were old acquaintances, though the connection had never piqued his interest before. Still, he allowed himself a flicker of curiosity. The entertainment industry was small, but it was strange to imagine the top-tier idol rapper Goo Dong-young and the still-rising actor Lee Il-seo sharing a past together.

“I was twenty-four, and he was twenty-two,” Dong-young began, diving into a story that dated back four years ago.

They continued drinking as he recounted how, during their trainee days, Il-seo had allegedly caused the delay of Dong-young’s debut. Apparently, the two had broken the company’s strict no-dating rule, and when the manager discovered a compromising video of them, everything had gone downhill.

“Il-seo was dating every trainee in the company, but I was the only one who got caught,” Dong-young said bitterly.

“Video?” Seung-yeon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I filmed us… together.”

“You were out of your mind.”

Both of them should have been kicked out for breaking company rules and filming such a thing, but Dong-young’s connections had saved him. His debut had been delayed, while Il-seo had been expelled as a trainee.

“That incident was the darkest period of my life,” Dong-young muttered.

Seung-yeon listened in silence, piecing together about the messy details. Dong-young’s powerful family—his uncle a major investor in the entertainment industry, his father a famous actor, and his mother involved in video production—had clearly played a role in keeping him afloat.

Still, Seung-yeon was growing tired of the story. He wasn’t interested in Il-seo’s past, no matter how sordid it was. Yet, Dong-young seemed determined to keep talking.

“You know, Il-seo is a beta, right?” Dong-young said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Is that so?” Seung-yeon replied, feigning disinterest, though his mind lingered on the strange, fresh scent that had wafted from Il-seo’s breath during their kiss scene. It had reminded him of an omega’s scent. But if even Dong-young, who had been intimately involved with him, claimed Il-seo was a beta, then there was no reason to doubt it.

After another ten minutes of listening to Dong-young’s drunken rambling, Seung-yeon had had enough. He stood up and was ready to leave. His hectic schedule left him a very little time for sleep, and he certainly didn’t have the time for pointless stories.

As he prepared to leave, Dong-young staggered after him, his words slurring. “Be careful with Il-seo,” he warned.

“Careful of what?”

“If someone like you gets mixed up with someone like him, it’ll only end badly.”

Seung-yeon shot him a cold look. “Stop preaching.”

The room fell into an awkward silence. After a moment, Dong-young offered a sheepish smile, and Seung-yeon let out a small, sardonic laugh.

“See you next time,” he said before stepping outside.

He lit a cigarette while waiting for his taxi. Despite the gossip about his private life, Seung-yeon had never been one to let personal matters interfere with his work. As a dominant alpha, there were times when his desires intensified, but he had always preferred partners who had something to lose—someone like the beta women he often found himself with.

Tomorrow, he would have to face Lee Il-seo again. Only three days remained until they filmed the bed scene. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his thoughts already shifting to the upcoming work.

—

He wet his lips with his tongue, repeating the action several times, but his mouth stayed dry, and his hands grew colder. If it weren’t for Seung-yeon’s manager driving, he might have pinched his cheek several times. Last night, while practicing kissing with a pillow on his bed, Il-seo had been startled by the sound of his phone ringing in the quiet room.

The caller was CEO Kim Jin-hong. He had called unexpectedly, asking him to keep his schedule open for the next evening, and delivered some surprising news.

“They’re planning a meeting with the main cast about filming.”

“A meeting? Where should I go?” Il-seo had stopped mid-note, surprised by the news.

“Oh, it’s not anything formal,” CEO Kim had explained. “Sa Seung-yeon said he’d treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner? With Senior Sa Seung-yeon himself?”

“Yes. He’ll even send a car for you, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”

Normally, the main cast and director meet in advance, but this filming was different, so they were meeting separately. CEO Kim had reminded him to not to feel pressured and to just see it as a chance to make friends. But still, he had emphasized, “Be polite and courteous.”

Il-seo, frozen in place, eventually picked up his pen and jotted down CEO Kim’s advice. Even after hanging up, his chest felt heavy with nervousness.

A dull thud echoed in the room as he clenched his fists and hit his pillow. Covering his face with both hands, he buried himself deep in the soft fabric. His lips trembled, and his heart wouldn’t stop racing. Despite knowing that meeting a senior like Seung-yeon was part of his job, he couldn’t calm himself down.

The restaurant where they met was upscale, hidden behind high walls with towering pine trees lining the entrance. When he arrived, he found Seung-yeon already sitting at the table, casually flipping through the menu. Despite his attempt to remain calm, Il-seo felt a wave of tension washing over him.

As the meal began, the server arrived with the first dishes, and Il-seo’s nerves seemed to worsen. Seung-yeon’s calm demeanor only amplified his own anxiety. “Relax,” Seung-yeon had said gently, though Il-seo found it hard to do so.

Seung-yeon’s elegant presence made Il-seo self-conscious. As they ate, the conversation flowed naturally, though Il-seo couldn’t help but feel a bit stiff. There was something about the way Seung-yeon smiled, a faint curve of his lips that seemed to mock Il-seo’s nervousness, though it was not very unkindly.

At one point, Seung-yeon asked, “So, have you heard the rumors about me?”

Caught off guard, Il-seo stammered, unsure of how to respond. He’d heard whispers, of course, but he didn’t want to confirm them. His hesitation made Seung-yeon laugh softly. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I was just curious.”

As the dinner progressed, Seung-yeon’s occasional jokes lightened the mood, but there was an undercurrent of tension that Il-seo couldn’t shake. After a while, Seung-yeon excused himself to the restroom, leaving Il-seo alone with his thoughts.

When Seung-yeon returned, he seemed more focused. “About your performance,” he began, referencing a previous rehearsal. “You’re good, but you need to loosen up. Stop trying so hard to memorize everything. Let it come naturally.”

Il-seo nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he fully understood.

After dinner, they returned to Seung-yeon’s apartment to review some footage they had filmed earlier. As Seung-yeon set up the camera, Il-seo’s gaze wandered to the clock on the living room wall. It was already past midnight, and he began to think about going home.

Seung-yeon lit a cigarette on the terrace and, noticing Il-seo’s hesitation, he offered him, “Do you want one?”

“No,” Il-seo replied.

Seung-yeon raised an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t smoke?”

“I practiced that too,” Il-seo admitted. “For the role.”

Seung-yeon laughed, a quiet sound that lingered in the air as he took a drag of his cigarette. “You don’t need to practice everything, you know.”

They stood in silence for a while, the night air cooling the tension between them. Il-seo finally broke the quiet. “Can I have the video we filmed?”

“I deleted it,” Seung-yeon replied simply.

Il-seo’s eyes widened in shock. “All of it?”

Seung-yeon nodded. “You’re not supposed to keep videos like that. What if it got leaked?”

“I see,” Il-seo murmured, suddenly feeling foolish for asking.

After a moment, Seung-yeon turned towards him with a slight smile. “Don’t focus so much on the details. Just live in the moment.”

Later, when it was time for Il-seo to leave, Seung-yeon handed him the shirt that he had taken off earlier. “Should I call a taxi for you?”

“I’m fine,” Il-seo said, but he appreciated the offer.

As the elevator arrived, Il-seo felt a pang of awkwardness. He wanted to say something more, to express his gratitude properly, but all he managed was a simple, “Thank you for today.”

Seung-yeon smiled, his lips curving in that same teasing way. “Your acting is good. See you next time.”

The elevator doors closed, leaving Il-seo alone with his thoughts. Seung-yeon’s compliment echoed in his mind, a soft repetition of, “Your acting is good.”

As he descended to the lobby, his memories drifted back to when he first met Seung-yeon. He had been seventeen then, just starting out, and even back then, Seung-yeon’s smile had left him flustered. Now, years later, that same smile had the same effect.

The elevator door opened, pulling him out of his reverie. Il-seo inhaled deeply, the scent of Seung-yeon’s cigarette lingering faintly on the shirt he still held. It was the only evidence that their meeting had been real.