TBM Vol 3 Part 4

After sleeping like he’d passed out, it was already time to head back to the filming location. As he slid into Choi Kyung-hyun’s car, Lee Il-seo couldn’t help but think that his home had become nothing more than a place to crash. Seeing Choi Kyung-hyun—father, manager, and chauffeur—keeping the same grueling schedule made him feel a twinge of guilt.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. You must be tired too, hyung?”

“I can sleep once you start your shoot.”

At Choi Kyung-hyun’s mature response, Lee Il-seo gave an awkward smile and looked over the script. At least today, thanks to  Sa Seung-yeon’s schedule, filming would end early, so he thought he should go home quickly and get plenty of rest.

Despite the anxiety gnawing at him all night—bad dreams and all—Sa Seung-yeon showed up in perfect form, hitting every mark and even cutting down the filming time. With Seung-yeon’s scenes wrapped quickly, Lee Il-seo’s part finished even sooner. By 1 PM, they were already calling it a day.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“You seem happy to finish early?”

Lee Il-seo said goodbye to Director Chae, the staff, and fellow actors who still had scenes to film and left the set. It felt good to get off work while the sun was still up. Choi Kyung-hyun seemed to feel the same way, humming along to bright, cheerful songs throughout the drive. As they were entering the Seoul tollgate, Choi Kyung-hyun called out to Lee Il-seo.

“Lee Il-seo, how about flower pork belly for a late lunch?”

“Meat?”

“Yeah, there’s a killer place just before we enter Seoul.”

“Ah. Yes. Is that your regular spot, hyung?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

There was one meat restaurant that Choi Kyung-hyun mentioned periodically. Flower pork belly. Just hearing it made his mouth water. Just as he was thinking it would be nice to have a meal with Choi Kyung-hyun after a while, Lee Il-seo’s phone buzzed briefly.

“Come straight to my place when you’re done.”

The timing was perfect. Lee Il-seo stared intently at the message. He had heard that Sa Seung-yeon had a personal schedule, but was it already over? Interpreting Lee Il-seo’s lack of response differently, Choi Kyung-hyun continued.

“Afraid of gaining weight? Pork belly is protein, it’s part of a diet.”

“…”

“Hm? I’ll treat you.”

Lee Il-seo’s resolve wavered for only a second before he knew what he had to do.

“Ah. I’m sorry, hyung. I have a prior appointment.”

“With whom? Park Jae-ho?”

Choi Kyung-hyun’s brows lifted in surprise. Given Lee Il-seo’s tiny social circle, it was a fair guess. Lee Il-seo just smiled, his eyes crinkling in a mimicry he’d unknowingly perfected. Maybe studying Sa Seung-yeon’s practiced expressions had rubbed off on him—handy for dodging awkward questions.

Choi Kyung-hyun pushed out his lower lip in disappointment.

“That’s too bad. I wanted to feed you something delicious.”

“Let’s eat next time. And I’ll pay. Why do you always insist on paying, hyung?”

“You’re young. You should be spoiled. So, should I take you home?”

“Please take me to Grandma’s hospital first.”

While entering the hospital through the navigation, Choi Kyung-hyun asked Lee Il-seo.

“Don’t tell me your appointment is a hospital visit?”

“It’s killing two birds with one stone. I should see her often when I have time.”

“Right, once the drama starts airing, you won’t have time for this. Let’s buy some fruit at least.”

“Thank you.”

Armed with a bag of fruit and drinks Choi Kyung-hyun insisted on buying, Lee Il-seo made his way to his grandmother’s room. No matter what plans he had with Sa Seung-yeon, visits to the hospital come first.

It had been too long. The thin summer gown had been swapped for a padded winter one. Outside the window, bare branches scraped against a cold sky. The wall calendar had flipped to November, but his grandmother didn’t so much as glance at it—her gaze fixed only on the white wall.

Lee Il-seo forced his stiff lips to smile as he sat down on his grandmother’s bed. Even with Lee Il-seo’s presence, his grandmother’s response came a bit late.

“Grandma, Lee Il-seo is here.”

“…”

“Autumn is already ending. Aren’t you cold?”

After briefly asking about his grandmother’s well-being, they shared the fruit. Lee Il-seo reintroduced himself to his grandmother, who stared at him blankly, and she repeated his name several times as if trying to memorize it.

Meanwhile, rumors of him being an actor must have spread, as there were many requests for photos today, too. Lee Il-seo diligently took pictures with the ladies, grandmothers, and grandfathers who visited his grandmother’s room like squirrels.

Thankfully, everyone brought something to eat, and the basket he had brought with drinks and fruits was now filled with nuts, various juices, and rice snacks.

“I’ll be going now.”

His quick visit had turned into an impromptu fan meeting. With time slipping away, he skipped going home and boarded a bus to Sa Seung-yeon’s neighborhood. As he hurried through the lobby, his phone rang—Sa Seung-yeon.

[What are you doing that’s taking so long? I heard filming ended a while ago.]

“I’m sorry. I just arrived at the lobby, I’ll come up now.”

[Never mind, come down to the parking lot.]

“Ah, yes.”

It was a change from routine, but he followed the instruction. Skipping the top floor, he exited at the underground level and looked around—until a quiet horn honked from across the lot. A dark green SUV rolled up beside him. Not the usual sedan.

The passenger window slid down, revealing half of Sa Seung-yeon’s face.

“Dummy, get in.”

“Ah, yes.”

Before getting into the car, Lee Il-seo put the heavy basket on the passenger floor, and as Seung-yeon caught sight of its contents, he frowned deeply.

“What’s this? Did you go door-to-door selling?”

“What…? They’re from fans.”

As  Sa Seung-yeon silently drove out of the parking lot, turning the wheel, Lee Il-seo made another appeal.

“Um… I have fans too…”

“Who said anything?”

He brushed it off, but the comment had stung a little, like his fleeting thought had been exposed. Does he really have fans?

Meanwhile, Lee Il-seo, who seemed embarrassed, kept his mouth shut for a while, looking out the window before speaking to Sa Seung-yeon again. Seeing him during the day made him so happy that words kept bursting out involuntarily.

“Did your schedule end early?”

“Yeah.”

Normally, a free afternoon meant extra filming, but today must’ve ended abruptly. That meant bonus time together—an unexpected treat. Il-seo’s faint reflection in the car window was already smiling.

“So, where are we going?”

“Just getting some fresh air. It’s a bit of a drive, so make yourself comfortable.”

Nodding at Sa Seung-yeon’s answer, Lee Il-seo pretended to look out the window while secretly biting his lip. Just the change from their usual routine of secretly entwining their bodies at home made his heart race.

Sa Seung-yeon’s car was entering the highway heading to the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province.

‘It feels like a date.’

Just then, a loud ringtone sounded in the car. Sa Seung-yeon’s manager’s name popped up on the dash. He answered via Bluetooth.

[Hyung! It’s urgent. About rescheduling the canceled appointment, next Tuesday…]

“Text me.”

Covering his mouth, Seung-yeon muttered, “I canceled cause I was tired.”.

“Yes.”

“And I called you because I was bored.”

“I understand…”

There was no need to deny it multiple times; the subject was sufficiently clear. Lee Il-seo pressed his chest, wondering if Sa Seung-yeon had heard his heart racing.

After driving for about another hour in awkward silence, Sa Seung-yeon finally parked in an unpaved clearing.

It was quite a distant place, and the time was already approaching 5 PM. The long journey made his back ache. Lee Il-seo opened the passenger door, stepped onto the ground, and stretched, while  Sa Seung-yeon, having turned off the engine, immediately lit a cigarette after getting out of the car.

Even with his face shadowed beneath his cap, the way he held the cigarette—cool, aloof—was effortlessly charismatic. Il-seo approached, trying to catch a glimpse of his jawline.

“Where are we?”

Instead of answering, Sa Seung-yeon started walking ahead with his long legs, and Lee Il-seo quickly followed. As they walked along the narrow path, the cold wind blowing against his face made his nose start to run.

After walking for about three minutes, sniffling, Lee Il-seo’s pace gradually slowed as he looked around at the sky beginning to turn golden, and a small exclamation escaped from between his lips.

“Wow…”

A sprawling field of reeds stretched as far as the eye could see, glowing under the sinking sun.

Lee Il-seo now walked ahead. The narrow path was flanked by reeds that came up to his chest, swaying in rhythm with the wind.

It was sunset. Under the orange-tinged sky, the reeds shimmered like liquid gold. The rustling leaves, the soft scent of earth and grass—everything felt suspended in a golden, quiet world. For a moment, every worry melted away.

“This place… It’s incredible.”

At Lee Il-seo’s quiet admiration, Sa Seung-yeon didn’t reply with words—only lifted the corner of his mouth in a subtle smile. A rosy flush colored Lee Il-seo’s cheeks as he strode eagerly along the narrow path. Reaching a slight rise in the ground, he paused and looked around, his eyes sweeping across the vast reed field. He stood there for a long moment, as if trying to take in the entire view at once, before finally pulling out his phone from his pocket.

Click, click. From behind, Sa Seung-yeon watched him taking pictures, and then pulled out his own phone. There was something endearing about how Lee Il-seo used such an old model—outdated and scratched—but when Sa Seung-yeon peeked at the screen, the photos looked poor. The phone completely failed to capture the vivid hues of the sunset. Everything was dull and a little blurry.

“Want me to take your picture?”

Lee Il-seo turned to him. He wasn’t the type who enjoyed being photographed, but today, he nodded without a hint of hesitation, like a child offered a treat. Sa Seung-yeon gently grabbed his arm and guided him to a good spot. The place where his hand had rested on Lee Il-seo’s sleeve now tingled—hot, as though it had been burned.

“Look at the camera and smile.”

At Sa Seung-yeon’s voice, Lee Il-seo froze for just a beat—then beamed. His lips curled into a perfect smile, neat little front teeth peeking out, and his eyes curved into soft crescents. Behind the camera, Sa Seung-yeon’s hand flinched involuntarily. Maybe it was because of the screen, but it felt like Lee Il-seo was smiling directly at him.

Click, click. Sa Seung-yeon, who had frozen for a moment, pressed the shutter button to capture Lee Il-seo.

Lee Il-seo began posing like a seasoned actor, turning to the side, throwing up peace signs, even striking cute expressions. Once he thought they’d taken enough, he let the smile fade from his face. With ears burning red, he ran over to Sa Seung-yeon, a bit out of breath, and stood on tiptoe to peek at the screen. There was embarrassment in his flushed face, and his body heat seemed to radiate in waves. A soft, ripe-fruit scent, distinctly his, drifted toward Sa Seung-yeon.

“Did they turn out well?”

“They turned out like you.”

As soon as he heard Sa Seung-yeon’s answer, Lee Il-seo’s lips drooped strangely. It was a compliment, but why hadn’t he immediately said they turned out pretty? Sa Seung-yeon wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. Still, it felt too late to clarify now, so he kept his mouth shut. Lee Il-seo sniffled and lowered his gaze, quietly scrolling through the photos for a long time.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine. Please send me the photos.”

Despite his inadequate compliment, Lee Il-seo seemed quite pleased with the photos. Soon, Lee Il-seo’s photo gallery was filled with pictures of the reed field scenery and himself smiling brightly under the sunset-dyed sky.

Lee Il-seo’s earlobes were bright red as he looked at the photos. Whitish breath spread from his lips each time he took and released small breaths. Sa Seung-yeon took a step toward Lee Il-seo and said.

“It’s cold, let’s go now.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?”

Unlike his usual self, he made a request and then, belatedly, glanced at Sa Seung-yeon’s reaction and continued.

“When we were in Gyeongbuk, I really wanted to come here.”

Of course, Sa Seung-yeon knew. He remembered that day—how they’d rested on a bench, and Lee Il-seo had spoken about the sunset and the reed field. He wouldn’t know what kind of expression Sa Seung-yeon wore then. Wouldn’t know how the slight disappointment in his smile or the way he looked up at the dimming sky had lingered in Sa Seung-yeon’s mind ever since.

Three years ago, Sa Seung-yeon had filmed a drama in a similar field. He’d called the PD—back then still an assistant director—to ask for this exact location. To catch the sunset, Lee Il-seo had once imagined, he had even postponed an afternoon magazine shoot.

He had told Hwan to adjust his schedule due to an urgent matter and then picked up Lee Il-seo. There wasn’t much time left until sunset, but today of all days, the guy was late, making him anxious. The spark ignited by that anxiety made him strangely displeased, making him want to just forget about it.

“…If you want.”

But seeing him still unable to take his eyes off the reed field, it seemed like it was a good decision to bring him here. Lifting the corners of his mouth, Sa Seung-yeon took off his coat.

Why did the guy look so cold despite wearing a thick padded jacket? Maybe because the jacket he wore was a cheap cotton padding.

Shaking his head, Sa Seung-yeon covered Lee Il-seo with his removed padded jacket. Surprised by the warmth enveloping his body, Lee Il-seo turned his head, alternately looking at the padded jacket covering his shoulders and Sa Seung-yeon’s knit, then lowered his eyebrows.