AES Ch1.6

When they reached the waiting room, Ryu Sihyeon, who used the one next to Heetae’s, greeted him. Heetae responded with “You worked hard,” and noticed Ryu Sihyeon’s finger wrapped in gauze. He didn’t know exactly how he got hurt, but if it left a scar, it wouldn’t be good, especially since the director of this shoot liked to focus on hands and feet. If the finger wound showed up on screen, they’d have to remove it with CGI later.

Thinking back, he remembered Ryu Sihyeon saying he never used a stunt double. Given how he didn’t spare himself in this project, it seemed like he couldn’t break the habit.

Heetae, after a moment’s thought, looked at Ryu Sihyeon and asked:

“Why does an actor have to get hurt?”

Ryu Sihyeon made an “Ah” sound. He looked at his own hand, and from a different angle, the red color seeping out looked even more vivid. It must have been a more serious injury than expected.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me. Just be careful in the future. Take care not to scar.”

Ryu Sihyeon was silent for a moment before giving a small smile and saying something unexpected:

“Thank you, senior.”

“What did I do to deserve thanks?”

“You were worried about me.”

He hadn’t particularly worried about him, but there was no need to correct that. Ryu Sihyeon said, smiling awkwardly:

“I don’t care what other people think of me.”

Then Ryu Sihyeon looked at Heetae. Heetae understood that gaze. Ryu Sihyeon was yearning for something. Before, he wondered what he desired, but now he thought he knew. It felt like a child desperately seeking affection, making it hard to ignore.

“But I hope the people I work with like me. Including you, senior.”

Heetae looked down at Ryu Sihyeon. Even though he wasn’t interested in the dynamics of power between people, he always ended up in the stronger position. So, he wasn’t one to strive to win; winning was too easy. If the relationship between Seo Heetae and Ryu Sihyeon were a game, this game would be won by Ryu Sihyeon getting what he wants. Here too, Heetae was the stronger one. What Ryu Sihyeon wanted was Seo Heetae’s attention, and it was Heetae’s decision whether to give it or not.

But this time, Seo Heetae was bound to lose.

It was inevitable. With that face, desperately seeking favor, one could only lose as a human being. The problem was… there was no way to tell where Ryu Sihyeon’s acting ended and his sincerity began. Losing in such a game wasn’t an issue. If anything, it was better to lose to truth than to falsehood.

It was a morning when snow was swirling in the air. Even though it was early December, it was so cold that Hyeonghun had a grim expression. Since it was an outdoor shoot day, he had bought a ton of heat packs.

“Staff can just wear long padding and arm themselves with heat packs, but actors would freeze to death.”

The shoot location was at a mountain in Gangwon-do. Heetae murmured that the snow would make the screen beautiful, but Hyeonghun whimpered, calling snow a disaster. It was hard to drive, and he remembered the times they had to clear snow. “Aren’t you worried? Why are you so calm?” he asked with a grim face.

“Snow can be done with CGI. If you catch a cold, I’ll get an earful from the CEO.”

There was one way to comfort the increasingly worried manager: Heetae’s villa near the location. They decided to stay there instead of going back to Seoul after the shoot, planning to leave leisurely the next morning.

Hyeonghun seemed secretly excited about having the whole annex to himself. The annex, which had been luxuriously decorated by Heetae’s cousin and then abandoned, had various games that matched Hyeonghun’s hobbies. He had even contacted the villa’s caretaker days before, so excited he was. Heetae wasn’t interested in games, so he wasn’t sure if it would be that good, especially since he mainly used the main house and rarely went into the annex.

“Anyway, if we had a shoot tomorrow, I would’ve cried for real.”

“There was a high chance you would’ve cried. It’s almost a miracle there isn’t one.”

“…You know, sometimes you’re really negative.”

“That’s why I don’t cry. My expectations are low.”

“That’s amazing. You cry well when acting.”

Heetae turned his gaze outside the window, a smile on his lips.

“Acting and reality are different. Acting has a script, reality doesn’t.”

The scattering white snow caught his eye. For some reason, it felt like something would happen once the snow stopped.

 

They arrived at the location through the hazy snowfall. It was a gloomy mountain cabin. Whether it was originally built this way or touched by the art team was unclear, but it was uniquely made of black wood. Despite giving an ominous feeling, there was an aspect of luxury to it.

Even more peculiar was a bizarre tree standing apart from the cabin. It stood twisted as if to boast that it had taken the full brunt of the wind, its countless bare branches looking aggressive yet calm like an old man indifferent to everything. It was starkly out of place with the falling snow and the surroundings full of underbrush. It seemed like some transcendent being had mischievously placed it there.

After checking out the location and finishing makeup and costume changes, Heetae still had to wait. Inside the cabin, other scenes were being filmed. They had been shooting several scenes since morning, but there was more delay than expected. Hyeonghun, while attaching heat packs to Heetae’s padding inside the van, murmured:

“What if the sun sets, hyung? They planned to shoot during the magic hour.”

The manager was anxious because they hadn’t started shooting yet. If the sun set, they’d have to come back for additional shoots, which would mess up the schedule even more. After some thought, he came up with a plan to make the best use of time: taking a photo with the coffee truck.

“Oh, was that coffee truck supposed to come today?”

“Hyung… please remember. That truck over there, we sent it.”

“I just need to memorize my lines.”

“Still, Yun Dahee sent it for you. But who’s Yun Dahee?”

“A cousin.”

Following the manager’s plan, Heetae willingly got out of the car to drink coffee. A staff member who took a box of coffee bowed to Heetae in thanks. Although he hadn’t contributed to the coffee truck at all, he had to accept the gratitude and said, “Enjoy it.”

Heetae ordered a latte. While drinking coffee, he chatted with the coffee truck owner, who was all smiles. Hyeonghun took photos with his phone, and Heetae even signed the owner’s guestbook and sent the pictures to his cousin Dahee. Snow was still falling.

At that moment, sounds of people coming out of the cabin could be heard. Heetae looked up at the cabin, which was slightly higher than the parking area. It seemed that finally, all the scenes being shot there were finished, and some people were coming down.

“Hyung, get back in the car. It’s cold out here.”

“No.”

He liked the snow. He liked the color white too. Humans can’t go out to find snow; snow comes to humans. One good thing about it was that even if you stood still, snow would approach you.

He made some footprints in the fresh snow, which is a playful activity everyone enjoys. He looked at the footprints left in the snow for a moment before lifting his head at the sound of voices from afar. Against the backdrop of swirling white snow, Ryu Sihyeon was approaching.

He stood next to Heetae, giving a faint smile and a slight bow, saying, “Hello, senior,” in a slightly unfamiliar tone. He soon talked with his manager who followed.

“Sihyeon, I’ll bring the drinks to the van. Go inside.”

“I feel claustrophobic.”

“But it’s cold. One vanilla latte and an Americano, please. Make them hot.”

Even with the coffee truck owner making a fuss over Ryu Sihyeon, he just smiled without much reaction. This calm demeanor, tone, and expression were subtly different from what Heetae had always considered Ryu Sihyeon’s usual self, making him watch closely. The manager had once said that Ryu Sihyeon sometimes got mixed up between Jang Icheon and himself, and this seemed to be one of those moments. He hadn’t fully come out of playing Jang Icheon after a day of acting.

“How’s your hand?”

When Heetae asked, Ryu Sihyeon looked at him. With black gloves on, it was impossible to tell if there was a scar or if it had healed.

“It’s fine.”

He smiled like a courteous gentleman. He was indeed an interesting character. It felt like Jang Icheon was coming alive right before him, drawing his attention. Heetae watched Ryu Sihyeon receive his coffee from the truck owner and smile stylishly, a sight he hadn’t seen before; it seemed somewhat arrogant. Knowing Ryu Sihyeon usually smiled more warmly, this was particularly amusing.

Does he love acting so much that he gets this absorbed in his role? It wasn’t an efficient acting method, but if he got good results from such effort, it made sense. Not many young actors were this dedicated these days, so it was impressive. He was certainly a flawless actor.

Before heading to the car with his manager, Ryu Sihyeon slightly bowed to Heetae. It was a brief moment. When he lifted his head, their eyes met. The white, composed face that caught his eye at that moment was quite striking. He had seen those brown eyes looking up at him before, but the face he remembered felt different from now.

“Actors, we’ll see you later.”

With those words from Ryu Sihyeon’s manager, Ryu Sihyeon disappeared into the snow, leaving long footprints behind.

“Hyung, let’s go too. The setup should be done soon.”

“Alright.”

He stepped onto the fresh footprints. Walking over them, he recalled the face that had confessed to liking him under a street lamp one night. It was very different from the look in his eyes earlier. Comparing now to then, the past version of him seemed cuter. He suddenly wondered when the real Ryu Sihyeon would come back.

🌸🍓🌸

According to the assistant director, the location was fixed here solely because of that bizarre tree.

Moreover, the corpse of Detective Hong hanging from that tree created an even more grotesque scene. Although it wouldn’t be shown in detail on screen, it was quite realistically made. Even a brief look was enough to give chills.

Detective Hong, who works in tandem with Lee Joohwan, dies on this tree. Hong is a cherished colleague of Lee Joohwan, sharing a strange feeling between friendship and love. Until now, Lee Joohwan, under the chief prosecutor’s orders, had only caught small fry and dropped the gambling case. Even with the change of government in the presidential election, Kang Jiwon became the leader of the ruling party, the man that Lee Joohwan and several prosecutors from the first division had been watching.

Kang Jiwon continuously obstructed the investigation, and Lee Joohwan prepared to overthrow the corrupt internal prosecutor faction rather than external enemies. As it became harder for Lee Joohwan to lead the investigation, Detective Hong took responsibility for the ongoing investigations.

In episode 8 of “Thirst,” Lee Joohwan suddenly receives a call from Detective Hong. But the call ends abruptly with an unintelligible scream. Lee Joohwan tracks the phone’s location to a mountain cabin where he finds Detective Hong hanged and Jang Icheon standing below, looking at the body.

That scene was about to be created. Following the assistant director’s instructions, Heetae stood with Ryu Sihyeon at the base of the tree.

“We’ll start with a full shot for this scene. Don’t go more than four steps back because there’s a steep slope behind the tree.”

The assistant director personally explained the movements of Jang Icheon and Lee Joohwan. From the tree, he took one step, two steps, three steps, four steps back, then stopped.

“You should come this way. Then Lee Joohwan will approach, they’ll struggle a bit, and then you’ll handcuff him, and that’s the cut.”

“Is there no specific direction for the struggle?”

At Heetae’s question, the assistant director paused before answering:

“The director said that as long as Jang Icheon tries to free his hands, you can do it freely. You just need to end up with the handcuffs on. Don’t drag it too long. We’ll shoot tighter shots separately anyway. We don’t have much time. Let’s go through this once. Think of it as a rehearsal.”

It seemed like they were aiming for raw spontaneity. This scene has many shots but isn’t complicated in terms of movement or dialogue. It’s about the emotion. Even though the assistant director’s face wasn’t fully visible due to the ongoing snowfall, his eagerness to start shooting was palpable. Winter days are short.

With the “Action” call, they started the first take of the first shot of episode 8, scene #75 of “Thirst.”

Lee Joohwan discovers Jang Icheon next to Detective Hong’s hanged body. He doesn’t believe Hong would commit suicide. He had called earlier. He had asked him to come here. That was for the investigation, not a last will. Lee Joohwan draws his gun and aims it at Jang Icheon. Jang Icheon, who was looking up at the body amidst the snowfall, frowns and looks at Lee Joohwan.

“You said you’re not a cop, but you have a gun?”

“Shut up. Hands up.”

Finally, Jang Icheon, who had been evading the investigation, was caught. There must have been a reason Detective Hong came here. Lee Joohwan glares at Jang Icheon. But Jang Icheon maintains a composed expression as if his innocence is a given. Slowly, he raises his hands.

However, Lee Joohwan doesn’t hesitate. He smiles once and takes a step toward Jang Icheon. One. Two. As Lee Joohwan gets closer, Jang Icheon’s eyes waver.

Thus, there’s about one step between Jang Icheon and Lee Joohwan. Lee Joohwan lunges at Jang Icheon, grabs his hands, and pulls out the handcuffs. Jang Icheon is shocked.

“Wait, what are you trying to do?”

“Can’t you see? You’re caught in the act.”

At those words, Jang Icheon’s expression contorts.

“I don’t know anything about this.”

Jang Icheon struggles to free his captured hands. But as he escapes from Lee Joohwan’s grip and steps back, he loses balance and staggers backward. Lee Joohwan tries to grab him, but Jang Icheon, or rather Ryu Sihyeon, swats the hand away. His body falls backward. It all happened in an instant.

🌸🍓🌸

The ‘slope’ the assistant director mentioned was closer than expected, more like a cliff than a mere slope. Heetae trudged through the snow towards Ryu Sihyeon, who had fallen, descending what could be called either a slope or a cliff. No one else rushed down except Heetae, partly because he was the closest witness, but also because the other staff had experienced similar incidents before. They didn’t react as quickly or were as surprised as Heetae. This was all the karma Ryu Sihyeon had accumulated while working with them. They had been shocked by him before.

Ryu Sihyeon really lives like a fool. Clicking his tongue, Heetae moved step by step towards Ryu Sihyeon lying in the distance. He kept thinking about how he had extended his hand to him. Clearly, Ryu Sihyeon could have grabbed it if he wanted to. But he almost knocked it away. That was no gesture of grabbing an offered hand; it was an intentional rejection, like saying, ‘Don’t touch me.’

If it had been Jang Icheon, he definitely would have grabbed that hand. He’s the type to struggle to survive by any means. He might have even grabbed the hand and rolled down together. Jang Icheon is not the kind to die first or alone; he’s the type to take company to hell.

But in that moment of falling, it was Ryu Sihyeon. Why he would deliberately make such a choice was beyond understanding. He’s always immersed when the camera is rolling, but why did he act like that in that moment? It’s incomprehensible.

It took longer than expected to reach where Ryu Sihyeon had fallen and rolled. By the time Heetae got close, Ryu Sihyeon was slowly getting up, holding his head. From the way he looked, he must have fallen backward completely. He’d heard Ryu Sihyeon was good at falling, but this time, he doubted if he had done it properly.

“Are you okay?”

When Heetae asked, Ryu Sihyeon answered while shaking off the snow from his head:

“Yeah. The snow cushioned the fall. It’s softer than I thought.”

His face, touched by the snow, was bright red. He looked like he might freeze to death.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

When Heetae offered his hand, Ryu Sihyeon took it and stood up. Fortunately, there was no issue with standing.

“How are your legs? Did you twist anything?”

“I think they’re okay. My bones are pretty strong.”

Heetae led Ryu Sihyeon back the way they had come. Looking up from the bottom of the slope, it seemed higher than he had thought. He wasn’t good at gauging distances, so he couldn’t tell exactly how high, but it was irritating. Going down is always easy. Humans can fall easily anywhere. The problem is getting back up.

Just then, a large staff member, who had leaned halfway down, extended a hand, and Heetae grabbed it. Ryu Sihyeon, possibly having hurt his leg, was half-carried up beside him.

As soon as they put Ryu Sihyeon down, the director, the manager, and various others hurried over. The manager quickly put a long padded jacket on Ryu Sihyeon and pressed a heat pack against his reddened ears. To the incessant questions about whether he was okay, Ryu Sihyeon responded with a smile, saying he was fine. To behave like that in such a situation, he seemed almost unrealistically kind or perhaps just foolish.

Heetae glanced back at where Ryu Sihyeon had fallen. There was the starting point of the slope with Ryu Sihyeon’s footprints. When he stepped there, his foot sank. Whether it was a pile of leaves or underbrush below, something was there. In any case, the ground was not firm, covered with snow. Though it didn’t look it, anyone who stepped there would have staggered. And saying four steps were safe only applied to average height people. Both Heetae and Ryu Sihyeon were a head taller than anyone from the directing team. And after struggling, they had stepped back even further.

…If this was going to happen, they should have directed properly or at least matched the action.

Accidents always happen on set. Unexpected variables are always lurking. In this case, there was more snow than expected, reducing visibility, the location had more snow accumulated than when they scouted it, the director insisted on using that creepy tree despite the nearby cliff, and they tried to shoot without proper rehearsal… There was no end to the reasons. All these factors combined to cause this accident. This wasn’t just bad luck; it was shoddy work.

One of the staff, whether part of production or direction, hurried over with a first aid kit. It was fortunate they had one, because when Ryu Sihyeon touched the back of his neck, blood appeared on his hand. Ryu Sihyeon let out a small groan, and Director Cha asked:

“Is it torn?”

 

Even he, who usually had no expression, seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“No, it just seems like a scratch.”

Ryu Sihyeon waved his hand dismissively. His manager then took the first aid kit and left with Ryu Sihyeon. As their figures quickly disappeared into the snow, Heetae sighed. He then turned to the assistant director who was approaching him cautiously.

“Isn’t there a doctor?”

“There’s no medical team on standby. It wasn’t an action scene.”

“This is crazy. This isn’t Seoul, and there’s no hospital nearby. How can you work like this not knowing what might happen?”

The atmosphere turned gloomy at his words. Other staff glanced over. Even Heetae’s manager, Hyeonghun, stood there with Heetae’s long padded jacket, unsure what to do. Heetae didn’t care about any of it. He was just astounded that things had come to this point. This wasn’t what Seo Heetae’s side had provided uniforms, coffee trucks, and catering for.

In the distance, he saw Director Cha, the cinematographer, and the lighting director talking. Their expressions weren’t good. They were looking at the storyboard, then at the sky, and at their watches; clearly, they were calculating if they could shoot the remaining shots before sunset. The script supervisor who was near them came over and whispered something to the assistant director. After she finished speaking, the assistant director bowed to Heetae.

“Mr. Actor, we’ll have a brief meeting. Please wait.”

On his way back to the parked cars to wait, Heetae ran into Ryu Sihyeon’s manager, who was getting some kind of citron tea from the coffee truck. Hyeonghun rushed over to ask:

“Manager! Is the actor okay?”

“Yes, it’s just a small scratch. There must have been something where the snow was less deep.”

“That’s a relief.”

The manager thanked Hyeonghun and then bowed to Heetae.

“Oh, Mr. Actor, thank you so much for helping.”

“No, it was nothing.”

“If you’re worried, would you like to check on Sihyeon?”

“…Sure, why not.”

“Go on, hyung.”

His manager nudged him, and Heetae was puzzled by Hyeonghun’s sudden interest in Ryu Sihyeon, but he followed the manager to the van where Ryu Sihyeon was. When the manager opened the door, Chopin’s Prelude flowed out, an unexpected choice.

The manager immediately handed Ryu Sihyeon the citron tea and went back to return the first aid kit to the staff. Soon, the surroundings quieted, leaving only the sound of the piano resonating through the cold air. Perhaps sensing the awkwardness, Hyeonghun’s voice cut through the piano scales.

“Mr. Actor, are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m really fine. I’m okay, so we should get back to shooting.”

“The atmosphere today might make it difficult. They’ll probably reschedule.”

Ryu Sihyeon, who had been answering with a smile just moments ago, let out a small sigh. He looked like he was contemplating something, though what that was, Heetae couldn’t tell.

“Why didn’t you grab my hand earlier when I offered it?”

At Heetae’s question, Ryu Sihyeon looked at him. He might not have been able to grab it because he lost balance, but… Heetae had a strong hunch that wasn’t the case. He stared at Ryu Sihyeon, who smiled awkwardly at the question.

“I thought it might be dangerous. What if I pulled you down with me?”

So, he deliberately didn’t take the hand. Whether to call this absurd or just nonsensical…

“Pull me down? Don’t you trust me?”

“…Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“So, it’s okay for you to get hurt, but not for me? What kind of logic is that?”

The look of someone hitting the limits of logic was quite something. Eventually, he admitted his fault.

“I’m sorry. You just told me to be careful, and I…”

Ryu Sihyeon hesitated before continuing.

“For some reason, I’ve always fallen well. But I guess I got complacent because I’ve never been seriously hurt.”

“This time could be different. There could be after-effects like a concussion.”

“Yes…”

Heetae exhaled a deep breath.

“When the manager comes back, let’s go to the hospital first.”

“But I’m really fine right now. I don’t think I need to go to the hospital.”

“Let’s go anyway.”

“I’ll rest today and definitely go tomorrow.”

This was an utterly unreasonable action. Heetae didn’t know what Ryu Sihyeon was contemplating earlier, but he was neglecting the most important issue, his own body. Back in his van, Heetae quietly called for his manager.

“Hyeonghun.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Go ask Ryu Sihyeon’s manager why he’s acting like this.”

“Could it be he doesn’t have medical insurance? Or maybe his birth isn’t registered…”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Got it.”

After returning to the car, Hyeonghun said:

“Today’s Sunday, so if we go to the hospital, it’d be the ER, and he seems to hate that.”

“Then we’ll have to go tomorrow.”

“But Ryu Sihyeon’s company seems to be short-staffed lately. And one of the road managers quit suddenly, so the manager seems busy. Tomorrow morning, they have a schedule for another actor, so they need to go there. It doesn’t look like anyone will take care of Ryu Sihyeon tomorrow. He’ll have to go to the hospital on his own.”

“They really do everything.”

 

There are too many incompetent agencies in the world. Judging by the look of things, he probably wouldn’t go to the hospital unless it was an emergency.

“So, I told him not to push himself, and that Ryu Sihyeon could stay with us tonight, and I’d take him to the hospital tomorrow morning.”

“…What?”

Heetae looked at Hyeonghun with an astonished face. He didn’t know, but it seemed Hyeonghun was number one in the country when it came to kindness and consideration. The manager scratched his face, looking embarrassed.

“Is that not okay?”

Heetae laughed at the unexpected turn of events.

“You’re going to give up the annex?”

“Well, it’s spacious anyway… The problem is there’s only one bed. I’ll sleep on the floor with some blankets. We can play pool or games together.”

“Alright, then.”

“You’ve relieved a worry, right?”

“What worry?”

“At first, I was unsure, but I just went up and saw the second unit playing back the footage. You didn’t catch Ryu Sihyeon when he fell. I saw it clearly; it was all recorded. Weren’t you feeling guilty about that? You’re the type to care a lot.”

“Are the staff passing that around? They must have a lot of free time.”

“Well, the meeting is for the big shots. The underlings have nothing else to do.”

“Then go out and quickly find out what the big shots decided.”

As expected, a staff member came looking for the manager, and Hyeonghun had to leave immediately.

The snow had stopped before they knew it. And as anyone could have predicted, they decided to reshoot this scene later. It would be embarrassing to ask for a reshoot after an accident, but there was no guarantee they could finish everything before sunset anyway. In the end, they wrapped up early before the sun set.

Soon after, Ryu Sihyeon’s manager brought him over, bowing courteously and saying, “Please take good care of our Sihyeon.” Heetae said, “Yes, drive safely,” but he couldn’t understand why they were so readily letting him stay at a stranger’s villa. What if he ran into some dangerous person? Both the actor and those around him seemed too soft. With those thoughts, he seated Ryu Sihyeon next to him in the van.

Ryu Sihyeon was silent during the ride, which was unusual considering how talkative he had been at times. People can be different when they’re hurt, but for some reason, him tapping the armrest with his fingers was bothering Heetae.

“Sihyeon.”

When Heetae spoke, Ryu Sihyeon jumped and responded with a “Yes?”

“Earlier, that was a situation where you should have been angry. It’s the staff’s job to prevent accidents from happening.”

“Yes.”

“When you need to, get angry. You’re at a level where you can do that. That’s how you get proper respect as a person.”

“…”

“You have a good public image anyway, so speak your mind.”

“…Were you angry earlier?”

He asked something unexpected in a cautious voice.

“I wasn’t angry. Just astounded.”

“Hyung, when you get really mad, it’s scary.”

Hyeonghun suddenly chimed in with an unnecessary comment.

“Just drive. Accidents happen when you lose focus.”

“Yes, hyung.”

When Heetae glanced at Ryu Sihyeon, he quickly averted his gaze, looking out the window like someone who had done something wrong. Seeing that, Heetae almost laughed but held it back. He hadn’t been like this before, but now it was hard to even look at his face.

🌸🍓🌸

The villa was structured with the main house and the annex separated around the garage. The cousins used to use the annex and main house separately, but one of them gave it all to Heetae as a birthday gift when they got married. Heetae didn’t come here often, but it was well-maintained. By now, it was dark outside, but the lights around the villa were brightly lit, and the snow on the driveway was cleared.

From when they entered the villa to when they got out at the garage, Ryu Sihyeon couldn’t take his eyes off the window. He seemed not to notice Heetae’s gaze on his reflection in the glass.

“Hyung, can we go to the main house for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

After turning off the engine, Hyeonghun asked. Heetae answered while getting out of the van behind Ryu Sihyeon.

“Sure.”

“Then I’ll go with Mr. Ryu tomorrow.”

Heetae turned to look at his manager.

“What are you talking about? It’s his first time here; we can’t send him to the annex.”

Heetae closed the van door. His manager liked to play by himself anyway, so not disturbing his leisure was courteous. He spoke to Ryu Sihyeon, who was standing a few steps away.

“Sihyeon, come this way.”

Ryu Sihyeon, who had been looking at the parked cars, trotted over. There was something dog-like about how he came when called.

As Ryu Sihyeon entered the main house, he looked at the paintings hung in the hallway. He seemed to be examining the objects on the tables and even the floor of the hallway. Wondering what he was looking at so intently, Heetae observed him and asked:

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“Did you have the lunch box earlier?”

“I didn’t, but I’m not in the mood.”

“Eat something even if you’re not hungry.”