DTM | Chapter 2.1

02. The Cause of the Illness

Clack, clack, clack.

“Hrrrk-!”

Clack, tap, clack.

The sound of a keyboard being furiously typed on and someone snoring loud enough to choke filled the room in a strange competition. Kim PD, who had been revising the proposal until dawn, finally succumbed to the cursed “4 AM” and passed out. Meanwhile, Go Hyeong-woo had briefly gone home to change clothes before returning to the current affairs and culture department.

Unable to use the on-site sleeping room due to Kim PD’s watchful eye, he slumped over his desk instead. The rest of the production staff weren’t in much better shape.

The scripts and program ideas piled high on the desks spoke for themselves about the workload we were buried under. Yet, less than half of it would make it into the broadcast anyway.

Clack.

I saved the draft of the questionnaire I was writing and closed my laptop. The strain from prolonged exposure to the screen left a dull ache around my eyes. After stretching my neck from side to side, I checked the clock on the wall. 7:10 AM. Soft sunlight was filtering in through the blinds.

“…Should I wake him?”

By 8:30, we needed to be at Dawn Entertainment, Kwon Yi-tae’s agency, to prepare for filming. I tapped my fingers on the laptop, hesitating. Maybe I’d let him sleep for five more minutes.

In the two years I’d been working on this program, there hadn’t been a single project as physically exhausting as this one. The reason we were stuck pulling all-nighters at the broadcasting station was the overly demanding requirements of a major agency.

They had so many restrictions on what not to do, yet an endless list of what had to be shown. They’d rejected the question list and the outline multiple times, forcing us to revise and resubmit repeatedly—even up until the day of filming. At this point, I wasn’t sure if this was a documentary or a film production.

To make things worse, we were working on a program that had already been slated for cancellation. We had been resigned to quietly waiting for it to end when we were suddenly tasked with producing a two-hour special episode. With both the broadcasting station and the agency pressuring us to start filming immediately, we had to pick up the cameras before the plan was even finalized.

In short, the entire production was in chaos, rushing forward without taking proper steps. We were doing everything we could to steer it back on track, but it wasn’t easy.

Thunk. I leaned deeply into the back of my chair, staring up at the dim ceiling. A sigh escaped, heavy with exhaustion. Slowly, I blinked. As soon as my overworked mind relaxed, it betrayed me by conjuring up an image of Kwon Yi-tae.

“Haaah.”

I’d been trying so hard not to think about him, but the moment I let my guard down, this is what happened. Damn it. This is all because of that hallucination I saw the other day.

That day… right after I’d experienced that strange hallucination, I briefly lost consciousness. When I came to, I found myself practically leaning into Kwon Yi-tae’s arms. There were plenty of reasons for why I’d suddenly passed out—days of indigestion, stress, and even falling into the pond.

When Kim PD heard about it, he told me to call it a day and go home early. Fortunately, Kwon Yi-tae’s manager happened to have business at their company, so I was able to catch a ride and leave first. Later, I heard from Go Hyeong-woo that the shoot had gone decently, thanks to Kwon Yi-tae’s cooperation.

I stared at the ceiling and let my thoughts wander. What was that embarrassing hallucination all about? It had been such a vivid and horrifying experience.

The only explanation I could think of was one:

“Am I… sexually frustrated?”

Since breaking up with Kwon Yi-tae, I hadn’t dated anyone else, nor had I had any casual flings.

Maybe, without realizing it, my body had reached its limit. Like Pavlov’s dog, seeing Kwon Yi-tae might have triggered some buried desire lurking beneath my consciousness.

But what really baffled me was the content of the hallucination.

I swear, I’ve never been into things like spanking or vibrators. I’ve always preferred to keep things simple in bed—it was easier on me physically, and Kwon Yi-tae had always accommodated that. He’d never once made any unreasonable requests.

“Was I secretly into that kind of thing all along…?”

“Hurgh! Cough! Hack!”

Behind me, Kim PD suddenly woke up with a dramatic coughing fit, his head rolling off the back of his chair. I quickly shoved my wandering thoughts aside and packed my laptop into my bag.

“It’s time for us to leave.”

Kim PD rubbed his puffy eyes with both hands and stretched with a groan.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Just over three hours.”

“Well, at least I feel a bit more human now.”

“Your blood vessels are bursting all over.”

“Dark circles suit you, Writer Yoo. Alright, everybody up!”

The slumped production staff groaned and cursed, their exhaustion evident. But, driven by sheer willpower, they began to rise, ready to face another grueling day.

***

We were escorted by an employee from Dawn Entertainment to a lounge on the upper floors. While I’d often looked up at the towering building from the street, this was my first time stepping inside.

Several pairs of eyes from our team glanced at the panoramic view through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was dazzlingly blue, and beneath it, the skyscrapers formed a picturesque cityscape.

“The city view is incredible. Did Kwon Yi-tae build the entire Dawn Entertainment headquarters or what?”

“What are you talking about? There’s Kim Ji-woon and Go Yoon-mi too. While Kwon Yi-tae didn’t build all of it, you could say he contributed about 80 percent.”

“If I gave birth to Kwon Yi-tae…”

“Then this building wouldn’t exist.”

The lively chatter about the recently relocated headquarters, which had been built only a year ago, filled the room. The distant sound of greetings from beyond the closed door suddenly silenced the conversation. The production team, myself included, quickly straightened up, sensing that Kwon Yi-tae had arrived.

Even though this was the second time seeing him since our breakup, the tension in my chest hadn’t lessened. I wondered how long it would take for this uneasiness to fade.

The lounge door opened, revealing a leg clad in a sleek black suit. As the door closed behind him, Kwon Yi-tae strode toward where I was standing. With each step, the subtle flex and release of his thigh muscles beneath the fabric of his pants caught the eye.

The closer he came, the more oppressive his towering height and broad frame felt, as if his very presence weighed down on me.

Today, his hair was neatly swept back, exposing his forehead. His thick eyebrows arched confidently, his sharp eyes and straight nose lending his features a harsher, more striking edge than usual.

Almost instinctively, we all stood up at the same time, without anyone prompting us. Kim PD, looking like he’d pour out his heart and soul for a favor, extended a hand.

“Thank you for cooperating with the shoot so early this morning….”

“How are you feeling?”

Ignoring Kim PD entirely, Kwon Yi-tae directed his question at me. I noticed Kim PD’s hand falter slightly in the air. Rather than being taken aback by his rudeness, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Even when we were dating, Kwon Yi-tae often blatantly disregarded anyone who wasn’t me.

I deliberately glanced at Kim PD’s abandoned hand before responding.

“I’m fine.”

Only then did Kwon turn to shake Kim PD’s hand. Forcing a smile, Kim PD let out an awkward laugh.

“Your kindness is as striking as your good looks. You’re even thoughtful enough to worry about Writer Yoo.”

“Thank you for making the trip here.”

“Oh, no trouble at all. From now on, we’ll be accompanying you for most of your schedule. Please don’t think of us as a burden—just go about your routine as usual. Haha.”

“I’ve never thought of it as a burden.”

“Pardon?”

Letting go of Kim PD’s hand, Kwon turned his attention back to me. I flinched noticeably under his gaze, a flash of that unsettling vision from last time resurfacing without warning.

Why does my heart keep reacting like this? It dawned on me that some things couldn’t be controlled with rationality alone.

“You only listen when your butt’s about to burst.”

I instinctively covered my backside with both hands.

His piercing eyes, full of subtle defiance, lingered on me for a moment before moving away.

“Let’s get started.”