Work Text:
«So I guess this is where we say goodbye».
Joo Hojin couldn’t say his life was boring — even if he liked it to be as lowkey and calm as possible. Thanks to his job, he got to travel a lot more than the average person, which was pretty nice… most of the time.
But it was through travelling that he’d also gotten to experience his fair share of weird and out of the ordinary situations. Some of them, he’d forgotten about — a way for his mind to shield him from the shock, most likely. Some others… tended to stick with him, instead, no matter how much time went by.
He wondered what category the day he’d just spent was going to fall into, when he’d think about it in retrospective. He wasn’t sure.
What he was sure of, though, was that the woman in front of him was the most interesting person he’d ever met.
There was something about her that was very hard to decipher. Something that was undeniably there, making her shine and stand out in a crowd.
It wasn’t just her beauty, despite her being objectively stunning. It was something in the way she carried herself, so authentically unapologetic and confident. So full of life.
He hummed at her words. «Remember, you need to get off—».
«At the fifth stop. Fujisawa Station», she nodded with fiery determination. «I’ve got this!».
A well-known Korean author had launched his new book and was touring in a few selected countries to promote it in person. Hojin had been asked to help with the Korean to Japanese translation at the Enoshima presentation in the morning, then he’d headed out for lunch and bumped into her in one of his favourite local restaurants.
She’d been curious about the multiple tourist brochures he’d had in hand, in every language but Korean, and introduced herself. Do Rami — such a peculiar name, Hojin had his doubts it was even her actual one.
Anyway, Rami had started talking to him. He’d told her about his job, and in return, she’d told him about hers. Or… well, what she hoped would be her full-time job in the long run.
She dreamt of being an actress. She had already played minor characters in domestic productions throughout the years whilst juggling in between part-time jobs, she’d shared for the sake of completeness, but now she’d finally managed to land her first role in this Japanese-Korean movie. It was the whole reason why she was in Japan. She’d arrived in Tokyo that morning, and she was going to spend a couple of weeks there due to filming.
But there was a problem. She didn’t know the language, and she’d taken the wrong train by mistake, ending up on the island.
Anyone else would’ve had a breakdown, alone in a foreign country. Not Rami, though. She’d decided to wander around until she’d gotten hungry, and then…
Then they’d met.
And somehow, Hojin had found himself spending the rest of the afternoon with her, visiting shops and showing her around, until he’d offered to walk her to the railway stop so that she wouldn’t get lost again. He knew his way around as he’d been there often in the past.
«Anyway, Papago-ssi—», her voice forced him to refocus, and Hojin grimaced.
«That’s not my—».
Rami ignored him, flashing him a self-assured smirk. «Make sure you remember my name, okay?», she completed the question with an “okay” hand gesture. «Do. Ra. Mi».
«Your train is coming soon, Do. Ra. Mi-ssi», Hojin quipped back, stressing each syllable, unsure of why he was even humouring her. «You should get on the other side of the tracks».
Rami’s eyes grew comically wide. «Shoot!», she yelped, bolting to the opposite side of the rails.
«Good luck with your filming!», Hojin shouted after her.
Rami turned around to smile at him, bobbing her head up and down like the Japanese cat figurine she’d almost bought in a souvenir shop earlier. «Thank you! Goodbye, Papago-ssi!».
Hojin shook his head, the shadow of a smile on his face as he tightened his grip on his leather bag strap and walked away. Perhaps their paths would never cross again in that lifetime, but he knew he was going to see her again, one day, on the big screen.
It had been a very long, and very stressful, day.
Hojin let out a relieved sigh after giving the taxi driver his address, deciding to just lean back and enjoy the ride, certain that he wouldn’t have to deal with anything work related… until his phone started ringing.
It was an unknown number, which could only mean two things. Either someone got the wrong number, or it was work.
He prayed that it was the first option.
It wasn’t.
«Joo Hojin speaking».
«Good evening, Joo Hojin-ssi. I’m Kim Yongwoo, Cha Muhee’s manager».
The man on the other end of the line clearly expected him to know who he was talking about, but Hojin frowned. «I’m sorry, who…?».
«Cha Muhee», Mr. Kim repeated. «The top actress?».
«Huh—».
«She starred in ‘The Quiet Woman’?», the other continued, his tone edging on incredulous. «It was even selected at the Venice Film Festival?!».
«I haven’t watched a lot of movies lately, my apologies», Hojin replied, rubbing his brow and fighting the urge to sigh yet again. «How can I help you?».
«Ms. Cha is doing press for the movie in the morning, and a few international media requested one-on-one interviews. I heard you’re well-versed in English, and this is kind of a last-minute emergency, so is there any way you can be her interpreter for the day?».
Hojin would’ve politely declined any other day. He didn’t like his work to be rushed.
But he also knew the man had come to him for a reason: he was the best in the field.
And he could tell when an emergency was an actual emergency.
So, «Where do I need to be, and when?», was Hojin’s answer, to which Mr. Kim almost sobbed with gratitude.
He gave him a time and a place, promising a ridiculously high salary and thanking him profusely before hanging up.
Hojin squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to pull an all-nighter researching Ms. Cha Muhee and her work.
He decided to get started on his homework right away, opening his browser.
«Alright, let’s see…», he bit out, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he typed in her name. «Cha Muhee».
He was quick to find out that Mr. Kim hadn’t lied about that “top actress” title. The web results revolving around Cha Muhee were thousands, constantly updating — the latest one was a review of her movie posted only 5 seconds earlier, for goodness’ sake.
Before he browsed through the articles that other people wrote about her and her work, though, Hojin decided to find out more about Cha Muhee the person. Not only he needed to know her background, past interviews, personal details such as hobbies, likes and dislikes, but he also needed to get an idea of her personality to provide an accurate and nuanced interpretation.
To do that, he went straight to the source.
He clicked on the top result, her Instagram account.
Surely, that was still a filtered version of who Cha Muhee really was. But it was as close as he could get to her without knowing her.
People tended to let out a lot more about themselves than they intended on social media, anyway.
The link automatically redirected him to the app. When her account loaded, Hojin’s jaw dropped.
«Do Rami?», he exhaled, clicking on her latest post and zooming in on her face.
He couldn’t believe his eyes, but it was really her. The woman he’d met in Japan.
In the picture, an older post pinned by Muhee, she was holding the script for ‘The Quiet Woman’. On the first page, he could read ‘Cha Muhee as Do Rami’.
It had been her character’s name all along.
Hah.
She’d given him her character’s name.
Hojin scoffed, impressed by her dedication and equal parts amused, and began his scrolling.
Muhee had more than 300 posts up. No highlights. More than one million followers.
He was surprised to see how unpretentious her posts were. The “people pleaser” filter so typical of celebrities of her calibre that he was expecting to find wasn’t there.
Muhee posted a lot of casual selfies or behind the scenes photographs with other fellow actors, but those were still a minority compared to all the sky pictures from the plane, or the different landscapes captured through her lenses.
She felt very… normal. Down-to-earth. Genuine.
Before he knew it, he’d reached the pre-fame posts on her account. His heart thudded recognising the Japanese corners they’d explored together.
Then he froze at one of the earliest posts he could find. He tapped on it, blinking rapidly, and furrowed his eyebrows.
Because he was in the picture.
cha.muhee: A new beginning. A festival bursting with excitement!
And #Papago #SomeoneImThankfulFor
«Papago», Hojin read out loud, and if he focused hard enough, he could almost hear her voice calling him that. As if the months that had gone by since their encounter in Japan never existed. He exhaled in disbelief, trying to shake off that thought.
It was then, and only then, that he realised.
«She posted my photo without permission?».
He could’ve, and should’ve, let go.
Yet, for some reason, he sent the post as a direct message to Muhee.
joohojin: Isn’t this portrait rights infringement?
That was silly.
With all those followers, there was no way that she would—
Hojin’s phone pinged with a new notification before he even finished formulating that thought.
[joohojin] cha.muhee: papago-ssi???
Inhaling sharply, Hojin clicked on it. Muhee was still typing.
cha.muhee: omg
cha.muhee: is this rly u???
cha.muhee: ur name is hojin???
joohojin: And yours clearly isn’t Do Rami.
cha.muhee: sorry ㅠㅠ
cha.muhee: im a fan of method acting
Hojin scoffed. «What does that even mean?».
joohojin: Can you take down my photo?
cha.muhee: sure
Hojin blinked at the screen. Was it really that easy?
cha.muhee: only if u send me another one
Of course not.
joohojin: Why would I do that?
cha.muhee: why not
Hojin shut his eyes with a sigh.
joohojin: Please just delete.
Three dots appeared, then disappeared.
«Sir?», the taxi driver called out to him, momentarily distracting him from his phone. «We’re here».
«Oh», Hojin locked the phone and reached for the wallet, retrieving his card to pay his fare. «Thank you, have a good night».
Realistically, it hadn’t even been five minutes since his last message when he stepped in the elevator.
Muhee had sent three new ones.
cha.muhee: alright then
cha.muhee: i have an idea
cha.muhee: since ur shy i’ll go first
And a picture.
It was a selfie of Muhee lying in bed on her stomach, wearing jeans, a colourful tank top, and designer jewellery. She had propped herself up on one elbow, with a hand almost covering half of her face, but she was staring straight into the camera, her gaze mesmerising.
Hojin sucked in a breath, stunned at how effortlessly beautiful she looked. He felt his face heat up, and he was confused as to why he was suddenly feeling so flustered.
Two other messages followed, the phone buzzing in his hand as he kept staring. Caught red-handed.
cha.muhee: i’d say now we’re even
cha.muhee: u have a pic of me and i’ll keep urs up 😉
The elevator doors swung open. Hojin forced himself to lock the phone again and headed towards his apartment door, punching in the code and going inside. He tugged at his turtleneck while kicking off his shoes, looking around confusedly.
«Did I leave the heating on? Why is it so hot in here?».
He patted to the kitchen and got himself some water when his phone buzzed again. And again.
cha.muhee: why aren’t u replying
cha.muhee: do u think i’m ugly?
And again.
Another picture.
This time Muhee was tilting her head sideways, leaning down on the bed and pouting slightly.
Hojin choked on his water and covered his mouth with his hand as he coughed. He put down his glass and typed in a quick reply.
joohojin: Oh my God. Stop.
Muhee called him as a response. He let out a shriek, the phone almost slipping out of his hands.
Holy shit, was she trying to kill him?
He debated whether to accept or decline the call for only a split second before leaning against the counter and tapping on the green button.
«So, do you really think I’m ugly?».
«I don’t think you’re ugly».
«Sooo…», Muhee trailed off, sounding particularly giddy. «That means you think I’m pretty».
«I just want you to delete that picture, Muhee-ssi», Hojin sighed out, exasperated.
«I told you, send me one and I will».
Hojin narrowed his eyes. «I value my portrait rights».
«I value your portrait rights as well», Muhee retorted, almost insulted by his words. «Which is why you ended up on my feed. Do you know how much a collab post with me is worth these days?».
Hojin couldn’t help but snort. He had to give it to her, that was quite funny. «Muhee-ssi—».
«I really missed your voice, Hojin-ssi», Muhee cut in, and his heart skipped a beat.
What was even that feeling?
Hojin gripped at the counter to keep himself in check. Then he took a deep breath. «Alright, you know what? Keep it».
«Huh?».
«The picture», Hojin clarified. «Keep it up. I don’t care».
«Aww…», Muhee paused dramatically. «That’s too bad. I deleted it».
«What?», Hojin straightened up. «When?».
«Right now».
Hojin couldn’t tell if she was bluffing. So he ended the call and checked on her account, scrolling all the way down frantically despite noticing one post was missing.
His picture wasn’t there anymore.
She had really deleted it.
Hojin returned to his direct messages.
joohojin: Why did you do that?
cha.muhee: it was bothering you so
cha.muhee: i just deleted it
joohojin: You could’ve kept it.
cha.muhee: 🤷🏻♀️
Hojin ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply.
A thought crossed his mind, followed by an instant groan.
«I can’t do that», he lamented, his gaze landing on the previous messages he’d exchanged with Muhee. And her photos. «Well… she did that for me…», he reconsidered, overwhelmed by guilt yet already regretting his life decisions as he tapped on the camera button.
He didn’t usually take pictures of himself, so he felt pretty awkward as he posed as best as he could. He snapped a selfie from a downward angle, his dimples showing as he hinted at a little smile, and sent it to Muhee.
joohojin: This is to make up for the one you deleted.
cha.muhee: omg
cha.muhee: …
joohojin: Is something wrong?
Muhee didn’t reply immediately — Hojin tried not to think about it and left the kitchen to go in his bedroom so that he could change before fixing himself a quick dinner. Except he found himself glancing at the screen one too many times, until five whole minutes went by, and he decided to check on her.
joohojin: Muhee-ssi? Are you alright?
cha.muhee: yeah sry
cha.muhee: i just
cha.muhee: couldn’t believe u rly sent me a pic
cha.muhee: ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
joohojin: 🙄.
joohojin: I thought something happened to you.
cha.muhee: aww
cha.muhee: were u worried about me 🫦
joohojin: Enough.
cha.muhee: it wouldn’t hurt u to admit it
cha.muhee: btw since we’re on the topic
cha.muhee: i feel like i should tell u something
joohojin: What is it?
cha.muhee: that japan picture
cha.muhee: i never rly deleted it
cha.muhee: i just archived it hoping you’d send me another pic ㅋㅋㅋ
cha.muhee: and u actually DID ㅋㅋㅋ
Hojin widened his eyes.
joohojin: You archived it?!
cha.muhee: ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
He couldn’t believe he’d fallen right into her trap.
He locked his phone, this time for good. That had been enough screentime for the day.
The following morning, Hojin went to the place where Muhee was going to hold all of her interviews for the day. The place was already packed with journalists and their respective camera crews.
He could already see her before he stepped inside the conference room. She didn’t notice him, surrounded by her dream team while getting her makeup done.
Someone that later identified himself as the infamous Mr. Kim — Muhee’s manager — beckoned him over, inviting him to take the seat right behind Muhee. Hojin nodded and stealthily obliged, getting his notebook and his pen out of his bag, ready to begin.
Muhee’s dream team took several steps back as soon as Mr. Kim said they could start. Hojin noticed that Muhee tried to get a glimpse of him, but as she turned around, she was interrupted by the interviewer introducing herself, so she switched into work mode at once.
«It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Cha», the interviewer said in English.
Hojin smiled to himself, not even bothering to take notes for that. «It’s nice to meet you like this».
Muhee’s head snapped back to look at him so fast at the sound of his voice. Stupor flickered across her face as their eyes locked, then her expression softened, and she broke into a beam.
And Hojin’s heart — it soared.