TBM Vol 1 Part 9

‘Incomprehensible Relationship’, the latest action film starring Sa Seung-yeon, became an instant hit online as soon as it was released. Photos of Seung-yeon at stage greetings and videos of him arriving at events flooded social media, and his roles and scenes quickly trended online.

The movie, which had already gained buzz thanks to Seung-yeon’s star power, was praised for its intense storyline and high-quality action sequences. Both Seung-yeon’s fans and casual moviegoers loved it, and it was frequently mentioned on movie review channels.

Il-seo left the theatre with an exhilarated expression. He hadn’t been able to get tickets for Seung-yeon’s stage greeting due to spotty internet in his studio, but he’d managed to secure a seat at a theatre with a massive screen. He walked slowly, staring at the photo ticket featuring Seung-yeon’s image.

Inside the theatre, the crowd buzzed with excitement every time Seung-yeon appeared on screen. Sporting bleached hair and playing a money launderer living in Hawaii, he wielded a knife with wild abandon and delivered his lines in fluent English. Each time he did, Il-seo clenched his fists so tightly that crescent marks were left on his palms.

As he admired the photo card, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered absentmindedly, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Hello?” he said.

[Oh, Mr. Lee Il-seo?]

“Yes, this is Lee Il-seo,” he responded, startled by the voice on the other end. He glanced at his phone to confirm the caller and immediately stopped. It was Seung-yeon.

“Yes, sunbae,” Il-seo said, trying to sound composed.

[Can you come over now? To my place.] Seung-yeon’s voice was a bit raspy, as if exhaling smoke, and it was sounding louder over the phone.

Without needing further explanation, Il-seo knew it was for an acting practice. His heart raced as he hurried towards the taxi stand, already anticipating the weight of the upcoming rehearsal.

“It’s fine. I’ll be there as fast as I can,” he said quickly.

A low chuckle escaped from the phone. Il-seo’s face flushed deeper than it had been during the movie, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.

[I’m heading there now too. If you come too quickly, you might have to wait outside.]

“Okay, then I’ll take my time,” he replied, slightly reducing his pace.

Another soft laugh echoed through the phone before Seung-yeon told him to text once he had arrived in the neighbourhood. After hanging up, Il-seo found himself standing in the long line for a taxi. The movie crowd around him chatted excitedly.

“The movie was wild,” one person said.

“I didn’t realize Sa Seung-yeon was in such great shape. Did he bulk up for this?” another asked.

“He’s in a drama too. I couldn’t take my eyes off him,” someone else chimed in.

“There aren’t many actors in their twenties who can act and look that good,” another voice commented.

“But it was brutal. They had to censor a few scenes,” someone remarked.

“The CGI was seamless. Ah, here’s a taxi,” someone called out.

Though he tried not to eavesdrop, Il-seo couldn’t help but overhear their praise for Seung-yeon. The more they admired his talent, the heavier the pressure he felt on his shoulders. He pictured Seung-yeon critiquing his acting, analyzing every detail. He couldn’t afford to tarnish Seung-yeon’s stellar reputation with his own mistakes.

“Get a grip, Il-seo,” he muttered to himself.

As the taxi arrived, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. The warmth inside the car cooled his flushed face. He needed to be ready. He couldn’t afford to let his admiration for Seung-yeon cloud his judgment. He had to focus on his performance and bring his best self to the table.

—

A dark shiver ran through Il-seo who was walking on the sidewalks.

“I’ve been waiting a long time.”

At the casual remark, Seung-yeon closed his eyes and smiled, then turned around and began walking ahead. As Il-seo followed, he belatedly caught the scent of alcohol lingering around him. Reading his mind, Seung-yeon, already in the elevator, sighed and asked,

“Can you smell the alcohol?”

“Just a little…”

Seung-yeon tapped his temple with his palm and added,

“We had an after-party for the movie release today.”

“I heard it’s been getting good reviews,” Il-seo responded, acting as though he hadn’t already seen them.

Seung-yeon smiled while swiping his card to press the button. The elevator ascended quickly, with Il-seo feeling a slight lift as it rose. He stared at the narrow elevator’s bright lights before turning his head to glance at Seung-yeon’s chin. Then, he quickly looked away again. Instead of continuing to discuss the movie, Seung-yeon explained the source of the alcoholic smell.

“They made sure I had plenty before I left. That old bastard…”

Il-seo’s eyes widened at the sudden curse. Of the supporting actors in the movie, there weren’t many seniors enough for Seung-yeon to call them old, but this casual crudeness was far from the polished image he portrayed in interviews, where he always spoke respectfully of his seniors. Caught off guard, unsure of how to react, he hesitated. Seung-yeon muttered to himself,

“Did I just swear?”

His voice, somewhat languid now, filled the small space. Il-seo swallowed nervously, glancing at their reflection in the elevator’s mirrored walls. Sensing his uncertainty, Seung-yeon tilted his head and asked again,

“Did I swear?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything.”

Avoiding the issue seemed the safest move. Seung-yeon nodded slowly, as though he were content with his response.

“Anyway, I hate being drunk. But since our dear Mr Lee Il-seo said he’d do well on the next shoot, I guess I should help.”

“Ah…. Thank you.”

“Anytime. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. It’s fun to teach a new kid.”

His pale cheeks hardened slightly as if he had decided to let him off easy, just as the elevator dinged, arriving at their floor. 

Seung-yeon slipped off his shoes behind Il-seo, who hurried out of the elevator, feeling a strange tingling sensation at his back.

*****

On the online forums, fans were still buzzing with excitement about Sa Seung-yeon’s performance in his latest film. Discussions, memes, and gifs from his recent public appearances flooded social media. Controversies surrounding his personality often surfaced, triggered by edited videos or offhand remarks, but they were quickly diffused by his agency and his strong fanbase. Yet, Il-seo, a seasoned actor who had been in the industry for nearly eight years, understood the complexities beneath Seung-yeon’s public persona. He didn’t expect him to be kind or gentle all the time— of course, he knew better than that.

“Excuse me.”

CEO Kim’s words came back to him: whether Seung-yeon is annoyed or not, you have to learn from him. Right now, you lack experience, and your primary task is to absorb as much as you can from him. 

With his lips clenched tightly, he followed Seung-yeon into his apartment, which had become somewhat familiar to him after his previous visit.

Seung-yeon, having placed his coat on the sofa, sat down and began removing his watch. Dressed in casual black, he picked up a script and glanced at Il-seo, who stood awkwardly in the centre of the living room.

“Do you have a script? If not, come sit here, and we can look at it together.”

“Oh, I have one.”

Il-seo always carried his script like it was a part of him, so he quickly unzipped his bag. But in his haste, the items inside spilled out.

With a soft thud, five photo tickets scattered across the floor, along with three movie posters he had grabbed in a moment of greed. One photo ticket skidded along the marble floor and stopped at Seung-yeon’s feet.

“…”

“…”

Seung-yeon slowly looked up after locking eyes with his own image on the photo ticket. Il-seo, frozen as if struck by lightning, quickly scrambled to pick up the scattered tickets and posters, his hands shaking as he shoved them back into his bag.

In the meantime, Seung-yeon bent down and picked up the photo ticket near his feet. Il-seo reached out too late, while his fingers curled in the mid-air.

“Here.”

Seung-yeon held the card between his fingers, and Il-seo hesitated before accepting it, shoving it deep into his bag.

Seated next to him on the sofa, Il-seo flipped open his script, though his focus was elsewhere. The letters blurred on the page, while his embarrassment was still fresh. Seung-yeon, keeping his expression neutral, crossed his legs and glanced sideways at him, while his lips twitched slightly.

“You saw the movie, didn’t you?”

“…”

“How was it?”

‘Please, just let it go.’ Il-seo swallowed, fighting back a sigh, and cleared his throat. He stared hard at the corner of the script, forcing himself to speak despite the heat flushing through his face.

“It was… good.”

Seung-yeon, hearing the short answer after the long silence, glanced at him, who looked intimidated, and subtly covered his smiling mouth with the script. He couldn’t help but be amused every time they acted together. Who would guess that the calm, indifferent guy who seemed unfazed by the world was so naïve and easy to tease?

Yet, despite his bumbling nature, he could transform into a completely different character in front of the camera, effortlessly capturing the role as if possessed. It was a captivating contrast. Seung-yeon still found it hard to believe that someone with such talent had gone unnoticed for so long. Shaking the smile from his lips, he replied in a calm voice,

“Well, since you’re my fan, I suppose that’s all right.”

Il-seo thought of at least ten ways to argue that it wasn’t just because of that, but he decided to hold his tongue, eager to move away from the subject. Seung-yeon, noticing Il-seo sitting stiffly like a bird frozen in ice water, raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise.

“Wait, are you a real fan of mine? I thought you were just saying that.”

“…Yes.”

“Why?”

Il-seo bit his lip at the innocent question. How could he explain that a simple compliment and one of Seung-yeon’s movies had changed his entire world during such a difficult time? Would Seung-yeon even remember the kind of affection and innocence that he had felt especially raw and painful because it seemed so trivial?

Keeping his gaze fixed on the script, Il-seo responded calmly, knowing that if he looked into Seung-yeon’s eyes, he might say something overly sentimental.

“You were a great strength to me, senior.”

“Is that so?”

Seung-yeon tilted his head, looking as though he didn’t fully understand, and shifted his crossed legs. The three seconds of silence that followed felt like an eternity to Il-seo, who swallowed dryly. Seung-yeon’s dark eyes traced Il-seo’s throat before he spoke again.

“That’s nice to hear. Keep being my fan—beta male fans aren’t that common.”

Seung-yeon’s bland laugh reassured Il-seo that his awkward response had fortunately gone unnoticed. While someone else might have found the “you gave me strength” line cliché, to the seventeen-year-old Il-seo, Seung-yeon had been nothing short of special and unique.

Returning to a more serious expression, Seung-yeon focused on the script again.

“I have a question. Do you play the guitar yourself, Il-seo?”

“Yes.”

Seung-yeon’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by his immediate answer.

“Really? Do you know how to play well?”

“Yes, a little.”

Seung-yeon leaned forward slightly, his voice calm and his words direct.

“Okay, let’s practice this part then: ‘Haru plays the guitar, Tae-hyun watches and they get into a small argument. Tae-hyun drags Haru away, Haru breaks the guitar, and then slaps Tae-hyun in the face.’ Right after this, there’s a bed scene.”

Il-seo quickly flipped to the corresponding page in the script and scanned through it. At that moment, Seung-yeon got up and disappeared briefly before returning with something in hand. Il-seo’s eyes widened.

“Here.”

Seung-yeon handed him a guitar. It felt heavy and well-maintained in his hands. Il-seo’s large eyes were filled with confusion. Seung-yeon had never mentioned a guitar as his hobby in any of his interviews. Feeling curious, Il-seo couldn’t resist asking,

“Do you play the guitar?”

“No. I just have it.”

Nodding, Il-seo lightly strummed the strings and adjusted the tuning pegs by ear. Watching him tune the guitar so easily, without using a tuner or app, Seung-yeon’s gaze briefly lingered on his chin before falling away.

Once satisfied with the tuning, Il-seo began to strum softly, signalling that he was ready. Seung-yeon, now seated, had already put the script down, patiently waiting for him to begin.

The sound of the acoustic guitar filled the room, his dry, pale fingers dancing over the strings. Il-seo sang softly, his voice slightly tense at first, but gradually his nerves subsided. After all, he would be performing for the crew in a few days and for viewers when the drama aired. His confidence slowly built.

However, after completing the first verse, Il-seo’s focus wavered. Seung-yeon remained quiet and still. By this point, Tae-hyun and Haru should’ve argued at least twice. Il-seo’s mind drifted, and he began glancing at Seung-yeon out of the corner of his eye. His expression had grown cold for some reason, and seeing it made his heart race anxiously.

‘Was my performance bad? Was I just being arrogant?’ As these thoughts flooded his mind, his fingers began to stiffen. He thought of how Seung-yeon had critiqued his acting in the past, pointing out every detail. Now, he feared making a mistake.

Just then, Seung-yeon rose from the sofa and approached him.