Chapter Text
The harsh sunlight peered through the windowpane, forming beads of sweat on his forehead. For the first time since he returned to Galleria Foret after getting discharged, Soo-hyun regretted having a floor-length view of the city. Seoul outside moved too quickly for his own liking - at a speed that was insulting to his own inertia. He'd stayed still on his bed since coming home from Yea-ji's apartment, events before dawn still circling his mind like a never-ending simulation. But it wasn't. Reality came crashing on him that there was no going back: she really was out of his life, and he couldn't have done anything to stop her.
Or should he have?
"You have no idea how easy it is to love you, how naturally that feeling comes to me. Every time I allow myself to feel that, though, reality hits me really hard…. The reality that even now, we're still in different worlds. Forcing ourselves to build a bridge that stretches between those worlds might break it one day."
Soo-hyun found himself bent over his kitchen counter in the same black sweater from last night's wrap-up party, wondering how many times her words replayed in his mind like a broken record. He knew that was what he needed - a sobering reminder that there was no better path than the one they'd taken. Or was there?
Sober, my ass. It was only a little past 3PM, but he was in no mood for the maturity of numbing the spasm forming in his chest. Forcing open a Johnnie Walker that was left untouched for months on end, a surge of anger shot up his system. At what, he didn’t' know. He settled with directing the rage at himself, that perhaps he'd driven too hard a bargain. If he hadn't been too straightforward, they'd have remained friends, like many of his other co-actors, whose friendships were stable orbits around his world. Glass clinking with the bottle beside it, he realized dishonesty would have been unfair too. He snickered, taking a long sip.
"Ya, if there was anyone who's unfair, it's not me." The words left Soo-hyun mouth faster than he realized. But is it her? How could he blame her when she, too, was a victim to the same extremities of Korean show business as he was? "An actor only has to act," Soo-hyun muttered, rewriting a line from Moon Kang-tae that hit differently now. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that Yea-ji could've done something to soften the blow.
She could've smiled less. The whiskey drew a blaze down his throat as her eye-smile flashed a hundred per minute in his head. Could've inched farther away when I got close. The feeling of her chest heaving on top of his as they shot their finale kiss, her hand grabbing his on their last shooting day, her warmth beside him at the wrap-up party the night before. Could've sent warning signs. Echoes of her laughs at all his jokes, the way he'd sometimes catch her murmur his name and smile when she napped in her tent, how she leaned into his touch like it was the most natural thing in the world. Could've pressed her lips on mine a little lighter-
He flinched at the sound of glass shattering on his kitchen wall, arm still extended from a forceful throw. I must be losing my mind. Soo-hyun's head hung low as he pressed his palms on the counter, craving any feeling that could ground him back to reality without the tightness in his chest every time a thought of her crossed his mind. He wasn't the type to do anything impulsive; he thought he'd outgrown that in his rookie years.
But before he knew it, his phone was already in his hand. Typing and erasing an iMessage every five seconds, Soo-hyun remembered that she was the kind of person to save messages for later. He had something to say to her, but not at the cost of permanence. So he decided to call. One ring. Two. Three.
"Sorry, this number is currently not available at the moment…" the automated voice boomed in his ear. He tried again but this time, the call was turned off even before he even counted to three. His phone was about to suffer the same fate as the glass thrown across his kitchen, but thanks to the whiskey that delayed his synapses, it was still in one piece.
Right, she better know I'm not pining over her like an idiot. Knowing that Yea-ji had a private Instagram account that counted among his millions of followers, the lump in his chest grew even tighter as he scrolled down his gallery and saw pictures taken by her, pictures of her, with her that his thumb shook to an abrupt stop. Pattern, my pattern. Soo-hyun struggled to remain in control as he thought of what to post. Suddenly, Jinjoo chatted him up with some pictures from her phone. After sending her a heart reaction, he posted the photo and blacked out.
Yea-ji walked out of her Friday yoga class, realizing that her phone died in her locker during the session. The ahjumma in charge of the room told her it had been ringing for a while, but she charged it that night to no avail. The next day, she bought a new phone and used her old sim card, never finding out whoever was calling then.
"Ya, still alive in there?" Oh Jung-se slapped Soo-hyun awake, clearly enjoying the slapping too much that Soo-hyun saw his hyung's grin deflate a little when he finally opened his eyes. Jung-se put down the paper bag he'd been holding, and pulled Soo-hyun up with all his strength. Feeling the nausea flood his vision as the sun hit his eyes, Soo-hyun rushed to the bathroom to throw up. When he was finally done after what felt like an eternity crouching down his toilet, he found Jung-se cleaning up the glass shards in his kitchen with the nearest broom.
"Hyung, what are you doing here?" Soo-hyun asked, his entire body still weakly leaning on his bathroom's doorframe. "I thought we're watching 15 here tonight? I came over, thought you might need some help setting up. Turns out you did," Jung-se looked up at him. "Where's your dustpan?"
Soo-hyun gestured at the cupboard behind Jung-se, only now realizing it was already a Saturday afternoon. He turned sideways and saw his slack figure's pale reflection in the bathroom mirror. Damn. "I won't even ask why you're still wearing the same shirt from the party," Jung-se said as he discarded the pile of shards into a bin. "Just be thankful you're dumb enough to set your own birthday as your passcode, or you'd have paramedics slapping you instead of me."
Walking over to grab a dishcloth to fully clear his mess from the day before, Soo-hyun felt his stomach growl. "Be thankful, too, that I know you're too lazy to cook. I grabbed a Subway on the way here," Jung-se gestured to the paper bag on the counter. Subway. Just that sent a fresh pang to his chest.
"Is she coming?" Soo-hyun's hunger was replaced by an ache that had no cure. But seeing her, maybe. "Yea-ji, I mean. Is she coming?" he repeated feebly, knowing full well that his hyung knew exactly what he was talking about. "Oh," Jung-se managed as he opened the paper bag. "I asked her last night. She replied just now, said she broke her phone so she has to stay home and recover all her contacts," Jung-se said as he ripped open the wrapper and handed it to him, triggering a memory in Soo-hyun's mind that was soon replaced by relief. So she didn't ignore my calls, she didn't get them at all.
"Hyung," Soo-hyun said, eyes still processing the realization. "I have to go somewhere, mianhe." Soo-hyun grabbed his coat and mask, ignoring the grumbles his stomach made at the sight of the unwrapped sandwich in his hyung's outstretched hand. Ignoring what he said, Jung-se gulped and continued, "she asked me not to tell you about the phone." Soo-hyun's feet, already half the beeline to the door, screeched to a halt.
"Oppa. Can you do me a favor? Just tell Soo-hyunssi that I have work that I need to do prep for," Jung-se read Yea-ji's message out to him as Soo-hyun walked slowly back to the kitchen. "You're just saying that," Soo-hyun tried to grab Jung-se's phone away, but his hyung was much quicker, much stronger given Soo-hyun's current state, that any attempt was futile.
"How could she say that?" Soo-hyun's denial quickly passed into fury as tears gathered on his lids. "Hyung, how could she just-? How could leaving be so easy to her?" Soo-hyun was losing his voice and his balance as the words flew out of his mouth. Jung-se rushed to help hold him up, sighing as he saw Soo-hyun try to grab the whiskey bottle still atop the counter.
"Give me that. Eat this, or else I'll text Yea-ji to say she made the right choice," Jung-se asserted, pouring himself a drink after settling the sandwich on Soo-hyun's hand. He didn't even ask how his hyung knew the cause of his inconsolable grief. Still in tears, Soo-hyun took a reluctant bite, and more, as the full extent of his appetite caught on. "Right now, if she saw you like this," Jung-se shook the glass at his face, "wouldn't you say she was absolutely right?" Soo-hyun looked down: whiskey and tear stains on his shirt, his pants half-zipped, and he wore only one sock with mismatched slippers. "I thought so," Jung-se said, recoiling at the alcohol's strength. "You should get some rest, I'll text everyone to call tonight off," Jung-se finished as he downed the last in his glass to the sink.
Soo-hyun, seeing an opportunity, hurriedly agreed. "Okay, hyung, you should get going…"
"You wish." Jung-se plopped down his couch and grabbed the remote to watch some football. "I already texted my wife to say I'll be late tonight" after seeing you passed out senseless, he omitted. "So don’t even think about running off. Go rest." Soo-hyun was too weak to resist so he made his way to his bedroom. Soo-hyun's phone vibrated, and Jung-se stood up. Seeing as it was unlocked, he saw a message from Yea-ji.
Hey, I'm sorry I can't make it tonight. Phone broke, don't mind what Jung-se oppa tells you, I was too afraid to tell you the truth, but here. This is still my number, btw.
Glancing all the way to Soo-hyun's bedroom, Jung-se did what he thought was best. He deleted Yea-ji's message, crossing fingers that Soo-hyun would never find out. "Mianhe, uri Yea-ji. You two are just idiots who can't make up your minds and I can't just watch," Jung-se whispered as he closed iMessage and checked the time.
He walked over to the bedroom and spoke, "Hey, isn't it time for you to…" his voice trailed off when he saw Soo-hyun peacefully asleep, too peaceful to be believable. "…post on Instagram," Jung-se finished as he did the task himself. He selected the photo that he knew was how Soo-hyun actually looked like when asleep, then two pictures of them together. "For your stupid layout, sure," Jung-se said, affectionately looking over the photos before clicking Upload, lengthy minutes in between for good measure.
When the sun set and Jung-se was convinced that Soo-hyun was finally asleep, he quietly made his way out. Soo-hyun let out a huge exhale when the door clicked shut, the Best Actor trophies on his shelves finally feeling well-earned after pretending to be dormant for so long. He waited for at least another hour, freshened up, and followed through on the best plan his mind could conjure: go up to Yea-ji's doorstep and ask her to reconsider, just be friends, or anything that would mean still staying in her life in a way.
He cursed every traffic light, every dog he almost hit and swore at himself because she would hate him if he actually did, and every second it took in the elevator to get from the parking to her floor. He rang the bell and rehearsed what he wanted to say, more important than any script he's ever held, as the words kept escaping him no matter how hard he tried to string them together. He rang it again, and thought he heard footsteps inside, only to be met by silence again. Thrice, until shreds of his hope started tearing away as he realized she wasn't going to open up. She's made the right choice, he tried to repeat his hyung's words until he convinced his own feet to walk away.
Fresh from a shower with speakers on full volume as she tried to drown out her sobs, Yea-ji grabbed a bathrobe and wiped her tears. Her eyes were still puffy as she closed Spotify, one of the first apps she installed, and thought she heard a ring. She turned around and her phone suddenly vibrated, informing her its battery was only at 20%. She waited for the ring again, then stared at the message she sent him.
Read, it said, just like her last one about his bucket hat that was probably still sitting on his secretary's desk. She sighed and picked herself up, resisting the urge to check her door only to cave in to the faintest glint of a wish that it was Kim Soo-hyun. Seeing her dogs in front of her door, she opened it and saw the hallway lights flicker shut one by one in the wake of someone walking away.
She closed the door and broke down anew. Stupid girl with stupid expectations, she thought as Manny and Salty converged all of their little paws around her, whimpering as they'd never seen her cry as hard before. "I let him go," Yea-ji replayed to herself like a mantra, as she pulled away from her little ones soothing her and crossed her arms in a butterfly hug. The memory was too painful, but she thought it best to endure rather than escape it. I let him go. I let him go. I let him go.