Archive of Our Own

JL sat with the script and outline spread across his lap, carefully going through every detail of today's live interview.

He read through the questions once, then twice, pausing every so often to double-check the facts he had prepared. He added a few follow-up questions of his own, ones that felt relevant to the guests' current projects and, more importantly, questions that might encourage them to talk beyond the usual rehearsed answers.

Interviewing Seo Jeongwoo, a household name in the acting industry and one of his husband's closest friends, wasn't exactly unfamiliar territory. JL had known Jeongwoo for years, and they had crossed paths often enough that seeing him wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Still, interviewing him was different. Today, JL had to put aside the familiarity between them and look at Jeongwoo purely as a professional guest. He would have to maintain that line throughout the broadcast, no matter how well they knew each other outside the studio.

If anything, JL was more excited about interviewing Cha Woongki.

Woongki was a film director whose work JL had always admired, particularly his slice-of-life films and romantic comedies. JL had watched several of his movies with his husband, often finding himself drawn to the quiet way Woongki portrayed love where it is less about grand gestures and more about the small moments between two people.

So when a staff member approached him with a sudden change to today's schedule, JL looked up from his notes.

“JL, there's been a change to the interview.”

JL immediately set his pen down. “A change?”

“It’s going to be a joint interview. Seo Jeongwoo and Cha Woongki will be interviewed together.”

He blinked then slowly leaned back in his chair.

Interesting.

The change actually made sense when he thought about their current projects. Both Jeongwoo and Woongki were working on stories centered around first love, albeit from completely different perspectives.

Jeongwoo was starring in When the Stars Forget Us, playing a man caught in an unrequited love story, someone hopelessly in love with a person who remained distant and seemingly unreachable.

Woongki, meanwhile, was preparing to release The Summer We Left Behind, a film about two university lovers who separate despite still loving each other, only to meet again years later with the realization that moving forward hadn't necessarily meant moving on. It was almost too perfect. A joint interview could make for an interesting conversation, especially if JL could get them talking about the different ways first love could shape a person.

The only problem was that he now had to rearrange the entire flow of the interview on short notice.

JL let out a quiet sigh as he reached for his pen. “Of course.”

He wasn't particularly worried. The production crew trusted his ability to improvise, and JL had done enough live interviews to know how to steer a conversation when things went off-script. Still, he wanted to make sure he wasn't walking into the studio completely unprepared.

He quickly crossed out a few questions, rearranged others, and jotted down several points he wanted to bring up once both guests were seated together. After another quick review, he gathered his notes and stood.

His first stop was Jeongwoo's dressing room. JL knocked lightly before stepping inside. Jeongwoo was already getting his final touches done, his reflection visible in the mirror when JL entered. “Were you informed?”

Jeongwoo glanced at him through the reflection before turning around. “Yeah.”

JL handed him the revised outline. “Good. Just make sure you look through these. I'll be adjusting some of the questions once we start.”

Jeongwoo accepted the papers but barely looked at them before casually flipping through the first few pages. “Just shoot whatever questions, okay?”

JL's eyebrows shot up. He lightly tapped the papers against Jeongwoo's chest. “It's not ‘whatever.’ I'm here to deliver the outline so you can actually prepare yourself.”

Jeongwoo laughed. “Waah, of course it's the JL.” He gave an exaggerated nod, amusement written all over his face. “Could always count on you.”

JL rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth betrayed a smile. “Just read it.”

“I will, I will.”

With that settled, JL left Jeongwoo to prepare and made his way toward Woongki's dressing room.

His demeanor changed almost immediately. Unlike with Jeongwoo, JL had openly admitted more than once that he was a fan of Woongki's work. He had watched his films with his husband, discussed certain scenes afterward, and even recommended some of Woongki's older projects to friends.

Which meant meeting the director in person carried a little more excitement than JL would have liked to admit.

He knocked before entering. “Mr. Cha?”

Woongki looked up from where he was sitting. His expression brightened when he recognized JL, but as soon as JL approached with the interview outline in hand, some of that composure gave way to a faint shyness.

JL smiled. “I came to give you the revised outline so you can prepare for the joint interview.”

Woongki accepted the papers with both hands. “Thank you.”

“I've actually watched quite a few of your films,” JL admitted, his smile widening. “My husband and I watch them together sometimes. I really like how you approach slice-of-life stories, especially the way you portray relationships.”

Woongki's ears turned slightly red. “Oh…” He lowered his gaze to the papers, suddenly very interested in the outline. “Thank you.”

JL chuckled softly. “Anyway, I'll let you prepare. I'll see you later, Mr. Cha!”

He gave him a polite wave before leaving. The door clicked shut behind him and just like that, the joint interview was set.

The studio lights dimmed gradually as the production crew made their final adjustments. JL sat comfortably at the center of the set, the interview cards arranged neatly on the table in front of him. A camera positioned directly across from him blinked to life, its red tally light switching on.

“5, 4, 3…”

The countdown came through his earpiece. JL straightened slightly, his expression shifting instinctively into the polished composure he had perfected through years of live interviews. The director gave the cue. “And we're live.”

He looked directly into the camera. “Hello, everyone. I'm JL, and welcome to today's special interview.”

He paused briefly as the opening graphic finished. “Today's interview is a little different from our usual format. Instead of speaking with just one guest, we'll be bringing together two people whose current projects happen to explore a very familiar yet complicated subject: first love.” He glanced down at his cards.

“Our first guest is an actor known for taking on a wide range of roles, from lighthearted romantic characters to much more emotionally demanding performances. His current project tells the story of a man caught in an unrequited love, constantly reaching for someone who seems just beyond his grasp.” His smile softened. “Please look forward to hearing more about the role and what drew him to the character.”

JL shifted his gaze toward the other camera. “Our second guest is a director whose films have become known for their intimate storytelling, particularly stories that find romance in the quietest and most ordinary moments.” He tapped his fingers lightly against the edge of his cards. “His upcoming project explores two people who fall in love during their university years, separate despite still loving each other, and meet again years later, both wondering whether the life they built apart was really the life they wanted.”

JL allowed himself a small smile. “Two different stories. Two very different perspectives on first love.” He looked directly into the camera again. “And today, we'll be bringing those perspectives together.”

Behind the set, the production team moved into position. Backstage, Jeongwoo and Woongki stood a few steps apart, each waiting for their cue. A staff member adjusted Jeongwoo's microphone while another briefly went over the sequence of the interview.

“Once JL introduces you, wait for his cue before walking out. You'll be seated together.”

Jeongwoo nodded politely. “Understood.”

A few feet away, another staff member was doing the same with Woongki. “Just follow JL's lead. He'll guide the conversation.”

Woongki nodded. “Okay.”

The two men happened to glance at each other. There was a brief pause. Neither seemed particularly sure whether they should say anything. They had crossed paths through the industry before, but they weren't exactly close. Today was their first time appearing together for an interview, and both seemed determined to maintain the appropriate professional distance.

Jeongwoo eventually offered a small, courteous smile. “Hello.”

Woongki returned the gesture with a slight bow. “Hello.”

Another quiet beat passed. Jeongwoo glanced briefly at the director. “I've heard a lot about your films.”

Woongki smiled politely. “Thank you. I've seen some of your work as well.”

“Your films have been drawing quite a lot of audiences lately.”

Woongki laughed softly, looking slightly embarrassed by the compliment. “Thank you. I'm still very grateful for that.”

“Of course.”

And that was about it. No unnecessary small talk, no attempt to force familiarity. Just two professionals exchanging polite words while waiting for their cue.

Onstage, JL continued the introduction. “And now, it's time to meet the two people at the center of today's conversation.” He glanced toward the backstage monitor. The floor director raised a hand. JL caught the signal immediately. “Please welcome our guests.”

He lifted one of his cue cards. “Seo Jeongwoo and Cha Woongki.” The stage lights brightened. The two men stepped forward. JL greeted them with a warm smile as they approached, gesturing toward the chairs beside him. “Welcome. Please have a seat.”

“Thank you,” Jeongwoo replied with a small bow before taking his seat. Woongki followed, settling beside him.

Once both guests were comfortably seated, JL turned toward the main camera. “As I mentioned earlier, today's interview brings together two people who are currently telling very different stories about love.”

He glanced toward Jeongwoo. “First, we have actor Seo Jeongwoo, who is currently starring as the male lead in the upcoming drama When the Stars Forget Us.”

Jeongwoo gave a small smile. “In the drama, he plays Kang Jihyun, a man who finds himself falling deeply in love with someone who doesn't seem capable of returning those feelings. It's a story about unrequited love, but also about how much a person can change while holding on to feelings they don't know how to let go of.”

JL turned toward Woongki. “And beside him is director Cha Woongki, whose upcoming film The Summer We Left Behind is set to be released soon.”

Woongki nodded appreciatively.

“The film follows two people who fall in love during their university years. They're young, ambitious, and convinced they can build their futures together.” He paused. “But as their lives become more complicated, one of them begins to believe that he isn't capable of giving the other person the love and support they deserve. He becomes afraid that his own circumstances will eventually hold the other person back.”

JL's expression grew more attentive. “So he decides to leave?”

Woongki nodded slowly. “Yes. He chooses to end their relationship.” His voice softened. “Not because his feelings disappeared. Actually, it's the opposite. He loves the other person enough that he convinces himself letting go is the right thing to do.”

The studio grew quieter.

“Years later, they meet again as adults. They've both achieved some of the things they once dreamed about, but they realize that moving forward with their lives didn't necessarily mean moving on from each other.”

Jeongwoo's gaze lowered to his hands. 

JL looked between them. “So it's less about whether they still love each other…”

Woongki lifted his eyes.

“And more about whether they can finally believe that love doesn't have to come at the cost of someone's dreams.”

For a brief second, his gaze crossed Jeongwoo's and neither smiled.

JL, unaware of the weight of the exchange, nodded slowly. “That's a very different kind of first-love story.” He turned toward the camera. “In Jeongwoo's drama, love is painful because it isn't returned. In Woongki's film, love is returned completely but one person believes he has to sacrifice it for the sake of the other person's future.” He looked between them. “Two stories about people who love deeply, but two very different reasons why that love becomes complicated.”

JL smiled. “And I think that's what makes both projects so interesting. They ask very different questions about first love whether you can continue loving someone when they can't love you back, and whether letting someone go can really be an act of love when the feelings between you are still there.”

His attention returned to Woongki. “That sounds very much like your style.”

Woongki's ears turned slightly pink at the compliment. “I hope so.”

JL turned toward the monitor beside the camera. “And that's probably why the combination of these two guests has already gotten people excited.” He smiled. “We've been monitoring the comments coming in during the live broadcast, and apparently, our viewers are also very happy to see the two of you together.”

Jeongwoo glanced toward the monitor. “Really?”

“There are quite a lot of comments asking what the two of you are like together.”

Woongki laughed quietly. “We've barely said anything to each other.”

That earned a laugh from both JL and Jeongwoo.

“That's exactly why I'm here,” JL replied, pointing playfully toward himself. “To make sure you two actually talk.”

Jeongwoo leaned back with a grin. “Good luck.”

JL laughed. “Don't worry. I'll start easy.”

He flipped to another page. “Let's forget about work for a moment. What have you two been up to recently when you're not working?”

Jeongwoo answered first. “Mostly filming. And sleeping whenever I can.”

JL raised an eyebrow. “That's it?”

“Pretty much.” Jeongwoo shrugged. “I've been trying to catch up with friends whenever our schedules line up. I've also been going to the gym, although I'm not sure if I can still call it a routine.”

“Because you're too tired?”

“Because I keep finding excuses not to go.”

Woongki laughed under his breath.

JL turned toward him. “What about you, Woongki?”

“Mostly editing and preparing for the release,” Woongki answered. “There are still a lot of things to take care of before the film comes out.”

“Do you ever actually take a break?”

Woongki considered the question. “Sometimes.”

JL narrowed his eyes playfully. “That sounded very unconvincing.”

The studio broke into laughter. Woongki smiled. “Okay. Not very often.”

“See? I knew it.” JL flipped through his cards. “Then let me ask something even easier. When you finally get a free day, what's the first thing you want to do?”

Jeongwoo answered almost immediately. “Sleep.”

JL laughed. “Very consistent.”

Woongki took a moment. “Probably stay home. Watch a movie. Or cook something.”

“That sounds peaceful.”

JL glanced between them. “And what about relationships? Are you the type to spend your free time with someone, or do you prefer being alone?”

The shift was subtle, both men noticed it. JL smiled innocently at his cue card. “Which brings me to my next question.” He lifted his gaze. “Are either of you seeing someone right now?”

The question landed lightly.

Jeongwoo and Woongki exchanged a brief glance before answering almost simultaneously. “No.”

JL blinked then laughed. “Wow. Did you guys rehearsed that...”

The studio chuckled.

“Okay, then,” JL continued. “Since neither of you is seeing anyone, let me ask something a little more fun.” He set his cue cards against his knee. “What's your ideal type?”

This time, neither man answered immediately. Jeongwoo leaned back, pressing his lips together as he looked toward the ceiling. “Wait. Do I have one?”

JL raised an eyebrow. “You don't know your own ideal type?”

“I've never really thought about it seriously.” He rubbed his chin, pretending to give the matter considerable thought. “Okay. Let me just think.”

The staff behind the cameras exchanged amused looks as he remained quiet for several seconds.

Eventually, Jeongwoo nodded. “I think I like someone who's… kind, but not in an obvious way.”

JL's cue cards gradually lowered.

“Someone who cares about people without needing everyone to know they're doing it. They're the type to notice small things. If someone looks tired, they'll remember it. If someone is having a difficult day, they'll quietly stay beside them rather than making a big deal out of it.” His voice softened. “They're also passionate about what they do. Even when they're exhausted, they still try their best. They're a little stubborn about that, actually.” A small smile appeared. “And they're shy sometimes. Especially when people compliment them. They'll usually laugh it off or change the subject.”

JL's expression shifted into amusement.

“But they're warm. Once you get to know them, they're really easy to be around. They make you feel comfortable without trying too hard.” He paused. “They're the kind of person you can spend an entire day with without doing anything particularly special, and somehow it still feels like a good day.” Jeongwoo seemed to realize how specific his answer had become. He cleared his throat. “I think that's probably my ideal type.”

The studio fell quiet for half a beat then JL smiled knowingly. “Isn't that the description of your love interest in your drama?”

The studio erupted in laughter.

Jeongwoo immediately covered his face with one hand. “Ah…”

JL laughed along with everyone else. “You described that character almost perfectly.”

“I didn't mean to!” Jeongwoo lowered his hand, still smiling.

“Maybe that's why I was having such a hard time answering.”

“Or maybe your character influenced your ideal type.”

Jeongwoo shook his head. “Maybe.”

JL turned toward Woongki. “Well, Mr. Cha? You've had plenty of time to think while he was answering.”

Woongki smiled. “I have an answer now.”

“Oh?”

JL straightened slightly. “That was fast.”

Woongki took a breath then, before answering, he glanced briefly toward Jeongwoo. “I think my ideal type is someone who's sincere.”

His gaze returned to JL. “Someone who knows what they want, but doesn't always say it out loud. Someone ambitious, but not so ambitious that they forget about the people around them.”

Jeongwoo's smile slowly faded.

“They're hardworking,” Woongki continued. “Sometimes to the point that they don't realize when they've pushed themselves too far. They're confident when they're doing what they love, but there are moments when they doubt themselves more than they let people see.”

JL's eyebrows lifted slightly. Woongki smiled faintly. “They're also someone who makes other people feel comfortable. They can walk into a room and make everyone laugh, but when they're with someone they trust, they're actually much quieter.”

Jeongwoo was staring at him now.

“And…” Woongki hesitated. The smile on his face softened. “They're the kind of person who makes you want to become a better version of yourself simply because you want to stand beside them.”

A warm murmur moved through the studio. JL looked impressed.

“That is a very specific ideal type.”

Woongki gave a quiet laugh. “I suppose it is.”

“But it sounds lovely.”

“Thank you.”

JL glanced down at his cards then paused. “Actually, since we're talking about ideal types, I just realized there's something about your movie that we haven't mentioned yet.”

Woongki's expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

JL tilted his head. “The Summer We Left Behind. You've been talking about the story, but I don't think we've talked about who wrote it.”

Woongki was quiet for a moment then answered simply, “I wrote it.”

The studio fell silent. JL's eyes widened. “You wrote it?”

Woongki nodded. “Yes. I wrote the screenplay myself.”

A surprised murmur moved through the studio.

Even Jeongwoo turned sharply toward him. The reaction drew a few laughs from the staff, but Jeongwoo's surprise was genuine.

Woongki gave a small, almost sheepish smile. “I didn't think it was important to mention.”

“Didn't think it was important? You're the director and the writer!”

Woongki ducked his head slightly. “I usually don't talk much about the writing process.”

JL leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Then does that mean the story came from you personally?”

Woongki's smile disappeared. He looked down at his hands for a moment. When he finally answered, his voice was quieter. “It's based on a true story.”

The atmosphere changed almost immediately.

Jeongwoo's expression shifted. “Woah, a true story?”

Woongki nodded. “It's about two people I knew.” He folded his hands together in his lap. “They really did love each other when they were young. They really did separate because one of them believed he was holding the other person back.”

Jeongwoo went completely still. Woongki didn't look at him. JL watched him carefully, sensing there was more beneath the answer but not knowing where the boundary was.

“And when you say it's based on a true story…” JL began cautiously. “How much of the film is actually true?”

Woongki finally looked up. A small smile returned. “That's all I'll say.”

A few surprised laughs came from the studio.

JL stared at him before laughing as well. “So you're really going to leave us with that?”

Woongki only smiled. Beside him, Jeongwoo wasn't laughing anymore. His eyes stayed on Woongki, searching his expression for something or anything that might explain why the story sounded less like a screenplay and more like a memory carefully disguised as one but Woongki gave nothing away. 

JL eventually settled back into his chair. “Okay. I'll respect the mystery.” He glanced down at his cards. “Actually… since we're talking about first love, and both of your projects are centered around it…”

His gaze moved between them. “Have either of you ever had a first love?”

Jeongwoo's smile faded into something quieter.

He looked down briefly. “Yes.”

A moment later, Woongki nodded. “Yes.”

JL's eyebrows rose. “That's cool, both of you?”

They both gave a small nod.

“Well,” JL said with a smile, “was it anything like the stories you're telling through your work?”

Jeongwoo thought about it. “In some ways.” He leaned back, his gaze drifting toward the studio lights. “I think first love feels different because you're young. You don't really know what you're doing. You just know that you care about someone a lot, and you want things to work.” A faint smile touched his lips. “But sometimes caring about someone doesn't automatically make things easy.”

Woongki's eyes remained on his hands.

“You can want to stay with someone and still realize that the timing isn't right. Or that both of you want different things at that point in your lives.”

JL nodded. “So what happens then?”

Jeongwoo was quiet for a moment. “You make a choice.” His answer was simple. “Sometimes you stay. Sometimes you don't.”

“And if you don't?”

Jeongwoo exhaled softly. “You tell yourself it's for the best.”

Something in Woongki's expression shifted. It was subtle, but Jeongwoo noticed it. “Not necessarily because you stopped loving the person,” he added. “Sometimes you just think they have somewhere they need to go, and you don't want to be the reason they don't get there.”

Woongki's fingers stopped moving.

JL turned toward him. “What about you?”

Woongki lifted his gaze. For a moment, he looked as though he might give a different answer.

Instead, he smiled faintly. “I think I understand that.” He continued after a brief pause. “When you're younger, you tend to think love is mostly about staying. Being there. Making sure the other person knows you won't leave.” His voice remained even. “But there are times when you start wondering whether staying is actually helping.” He looked down. “And sometimes you make a decision because you think it's the kinder one.”

JL's expression softened. “Even if the other person doesn't agree?”

Woongki gave a small, almost humorless laugh. “Especially then, maybe.”

Jeongwoo's gaze stayed on him. Woongki seemed to realize what he'd said and looked back toward JL.

“I think that's one of the things you understand differently when you get older.” There was a short silence.

JL nodded thoughtfully. “So you don't know whether the decision was right until much later?”

Woongki considered that. “I don't know if you ever really know.” His eyes dropped briefly to the cue card in his lap. “You just learn to live with the decision you made.”

Jeongwoo's expression changed, though he said nothing.

JL looked between them and meither man seemed interested in elaborating so he let the subject rest. “I think that explains why first love stays with people for so long.”

Jeongwoo nodded. “Maybe.”

Woongki gave the smallest smile.

JL glanced toward the camera. “Okay. Before this turns into a therapy session for everyone watching, let's make things a little lighter.”

Jeongwoo laughed. “Please.”

“First question,” JL said, holding up one finger. “If your first love suddenly appeared in front of you today and said, ‘Let's go somewhere right now,’ where would you take them?”

Jeongwoo laughed softly. “That's very specific.”

“That's why it's interesting.”

Jeongwoo thought for a moment. “Somewhere quiet.”

JL waited.

“Maybe somewhere with good food. Somewhere we could actually talk.” He shrugged. “Nothing too complicated. Maybe a cafe!”

Woongki's lips curved faintly. JL turned toward him. “And you?”

Woongki took a second longer to answer. “Somewhere familiar.”

“Familiar?”

He nodded.

“Somewhere you don't have to explain yourself.” The answer came so naturally that Jeongwoo looked at him. Woongki didn't seem to notice. “Maybe somewhere that reminds you of when you were younger.”

JL smiled. “That sounds nostalgic.”

Woongki's smile deepened by a fraction.

JL moved on. “Second question. If you could give your younger self one piece of advice about love, what would it be?”

Jeongwoo answered almost immediately. “Don't assume you know what's best for someone else.”

Woongki's gaze shifted toward him. 

Jeongwoo gave a small laugh. “That sounds more serious than I intended.”

“No,” JL said. “I think that's actually very good advice.”

Jeongwoo nodded, though his smile had become quieter.

JL turned toward Woongki. “What about you?”

Woongki took a breath. “Talk.”

JL smiled. “Talk?”

“Before you decide anything.”

Woongki glanced down briefly, then back up. “Don't make a decision for two people when only one of them knows about it.”

For the first time, Jeongwoo's expression gave something away. Just a brief stillness. His eyes met Woongki's.

Woongki held the look for half a second before turning back toward JL. “If you care about someone,” he continued, “you should probably trust them enough to let them tell you what they want.”

JL nodded, seemingly unaware of the weight the answer carried between them.

“That is very different from what people usually say about first love.” Woongki smiled faintly. “Maybe we learn things eventually.”

JL looked between them, then lifted his final cue card. “Okay. Last one.” Both men looked toward him. “If you had to describe first love in just one word, what would it be?”

Jeongwoo didn't need much time. “Unforgettable.”

JL smiled. “That's a classic.”

He turned toward Woongki. “And yours?”

Woongki was quiet. His eyes dropped for a moment then he answered. “Necessary.” Woongki nodded. “I think even if something doesn't last, it can still matter.” His fingers rested loosely against the cue card. “You become a little different because of the people you loved. You learn things you wouldn't have learned otherwise.” A small smile appeared. “Sometimes that's enough.”

Jeongwoo's gaze remained on him for a moment before he looked away. “That's true.”

JL smiled warmly. “Well, I think that's a perfect place to end.”

He turned toward the camera, his professional smile returning. “Thank you both for joining us today. When the Stars Forget Us is coming soon, so please look forward to Jeongwoo's portrayal of Kang Jihyun and his journey through a love that may never be returned.”

Jeongwoo straightened slightly and smiled toward the camera. “Please give When the Stars Forget Us lots of love. I hope viewers can connect with Jihyun and understand why he continues holding on, even when love isn't easy.”

JL nodded before turning toward Woongki. “And The Summer We Left Behind will also be coming to theaters soon.”

Woongki smiled toward the camera. “Please look forward to it. I hope people who have loved someone, lost someone, or simply wondered about the choices they made when they were younger can find something meaningful in the film.” He paused. “And hopefully, you'll stay until the end.”

JL laughed. “Now that's a director's way of making sure people buy tickets.”

The studio laughed with him. Woongki ducked his head, smiling. Jeongwoo shook his head. “What a way to promote.”

“I'm doing my job,” Woongki replied, laughing.

“And that's where we'll end today's live interview.”

JL turned toward the camera and gave a small wave.

“Thank you for watching, everyone. Please look forward to both When the Stars Forget Us and The Summer We Left Behind. We'll see you next time.”

The broadcast light remained on for another few seconds before the production team finally signaled that they were off air. Applause came from behind the cameras. JL lowered his cue cards with a relieved exhale while Jeongwoo leaned back and stretched his shoulders. Woongki remained seated.

For a moment, neither of them spoke then Jeongwoo glanced toward him. Woongki happened to look over at the same time. It lasted only a second and neither smiled. A staff member called for them from across the studio, breaking the moment.

Jeongwoo looked away first. Woongki lowered his gaze. Whatever had passed between them during the interview remained impossible to name not because either of them had said anything outright, but because of the strange familiarity of certain words, certain pauses, and the way neither seemed surprised by the other's answers. 

The moment the staff finally released them, JL was already gathering his cue cards. “That was great,” he said, looking between them with an easy smile. “Seriously. Congratulations to both of you. The projects sound amazing, and I'm really looking forward to seeing them.”

He turned toward Jeongwoo, his smile immediately becoming more mischievous. “And you,” JL added, pointing a finger at him. “Try not to make everyone cry too much with that drama of yours.”

Jeongwoo laughed. “I'll try.”

JL shook his head before turning toward Woongki. “And Mr. Cha, I really mean it when I say I'm excited for your film. I've watched most of your previous work, so I'm genuinely looking forward to this one.”

Woongki looked slightly embarrassed by the enthusiasm. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“I'll definitely be watching.” JL was about to say something else when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A smile immediately softened his face. “Oh.”

Jeongwoo raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“No.” JL slipped his phone back into his pocket. “My husband says he's waiting outside.”

Jeongwoo groaned dramatically. “Of course.”

JL laughed. “I'm leaving you two now.”

He waved his cue cards at them before turning toward the exit. “Congratulations again. Both of you.”

“Thank you,” Woongki replied.

Jeongwoo gave him a small wave. “See you around.”

JL was already halfway through the door when his voice drifted back toward them, warm and unmistakably affectionate. “Hani, did you wait long?”

The door swung shut behind him. Silence settled over the room. Jeongwoo stared at the closed door for a moment before looking toward Woongki. Woongki looked back.

For the first time since the interview began, they were alone. The remaining staff were already moving around them, collecting equipment and clearing the set, but somehow the noise only made the silence between the two men more noticeable.

Jeongwoo cleared his throat. “Well…”

Woongki nodded. “Well.”

Another pause.

Jeongwoo gave a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is awkward.”

A small smile appeared on Woongki's face. “A little.”

They both looked away.

Jeongwoo glanced toward the set they had just left behind. “Your film sounds really good.”

“Thank you.” Woongki folded his cue cards together.

“Your drama does too.”

“Thanks.”

Silence again.

They had just spent nearly an hour talking about love, first loves, ideal types, and all the things people apparently found difficult to say. Yet standing in front of each other now, neither seemed to know where to begin.

“How long has it been?” Jeongwoo asked eventually.

Woongki looked at him. “Since what?”

Jeongwoo's fingers tightened slightly around his cue cards. “Since we last actually talked.”

Woongki thought about it. “A long while.”

Jeongwoo nodded then he looked down. “It's been a long while…”

Woongki gave a quiet nod. “It has.”

Another silence followed.

This one wasn't quite as uncomfortable.

Jeongwoo glanced at the clock on the wall then back at Woongki. “Are you busy after this?”

Woongki's eyebrows lifted slightly. “Not immediately.”

Jeongwoo hesitated. “There's a café nearby.” He paused, suddenly aware of how carefully he was choosing his words. “If you're not in a hurry… maybe we could go?”

Woongki didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes moved briefly over Jeongwoo's face. “You said you were tired.”

Jeongwoo blinked. “During the interview?”

“You said you wanted to sleep.”

A small laugh escaped Jeongwoo. “You remembered that?”

Woongki shrugged. “It wasn't that long ago.”

Jeongwoo smiled. “I can sleep later.”

Woongki looked down for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Another pause then Woongki nodded. “Okay.”

Jeongwoo smiled. Neither of them seemed entirely certain what they had just agreed to but neither took it back.

They made a small detour before leaving. Jeongwoo disappeared into the dressing room and returned several minutes later wearing a cap pulled low over his forehead, a mask covering most of his face, and a pair of glasses that made him considerably less recognizable.

Woongki stared at him.

“What?”

“You look suspicious.”

Jeongwoo looked down at himself. “This is normal.”

“You look like you're trying very hard to look normal.”

“That's the point.”

Woongki laughed.

It was the first genuinely unguarded laugh Jeongwoo had heard from him that day.

The sound made something in Jeongwoo's chest loosen. “Come on,” he said, pushing open the door. “Before someone actually recognizes me.”

They walked several blocks before finding the cafe. It was small and quiet, tucked between two buildings and mostly occupied by students. A few people sat with laptops open in front of them, while others talked quietly over their drinks. It was exactly the sort of place where Jeongwoo could disappear for a little while. They chose a table toward the back.

Jeongwoo lowered his mask only after they sat down.

“I'll order.” Woongki stood. “What do you want?”

“Anything is fine.”

Woongki gave him a look. “That's not helpful.”

Jeongwoo smiled. “You choose.”

Woongki stared at him for a moment before turning toward the counter. He ordered two drinks without asking again.

When he returned, Jeongwoo looked at the cups on the table then at him.

“You still remember?”

Woongki paused. “Remember what?”

“My order.”

Woongki looked down at the cups. “I just guessed.”

Jeongwoo smiled.

Woongki sat across from him. “I might be wrong.”

Jeongwoo picked up his drink and took a sip.

His expression changed almost right away. “You're not.”

Woongki smiled and somehow, that was the first thing that made the afternoon feel less strange.

They started with safe things. Work. Schedules. The film. The drama. The kind of questions people asked when they hadn't spoken in a long time but weren't quite ready to acknowledge how long it had actually been. Jeongwoo asked about the filming process. Woongki told him about the difficulties of shooting certain scenes on location and how one particular scene had taken far longer than expected.

Jeongwoo laughed when Woongki complained about the weather.

The conversation continued. Somewhere along the way, the careful pauses disappeared. They started interrupting each other again. Jeongwoo remembered a story Woongki had told him years ago and brought it up just to tease him. Woongki laughed and corrected half the details. Jeongwoo insisted his version was better. Woongki told him he was remembering it wrong. It was ordinary and neither of them seemed to realize exactly when the awkwardness had stopped being awkward. They were simply talking like they had done before.

A little while later, a figure stopped beside their table. “Excuse me…”

Jeongwoo looked up. A university student stood there, staring at him with wide eyes. The student's gaze moved uncertainly between his face, his cap, and his glasses. “Are you…?”

Jeongwoo immediately lowered his voice. "Shh.”

The student's eyes widened further. He glanced around.

Jeongwoo leaned forward slightly. “Please don't tell anyone I'm here.”

The student looked as though someone had just handed him a secret of national importance. “Really?”

Jeongwoo nodded. “I'll give you an autograph.”

The student's expression brightened immediately. “Deal.”

Woongki turned away, pressing his lips together. His shoulders were already shaking and Jeongwoo noticed. “Don't laugh.”

That only made Woongki lose the battle. A quiet laugh escaped him as he covered his mouth. The student looked between them, amused. Then his eyes suddenly widened again. “Wait.”

He pointed carefully toward Woongki. “You're Director Cha Woongki.”

Woongki blinked. Jeongwoo looked at him.

The student's face lit up. “I've watched your films!”

Woongki smiled politely. “Thank you.”

“And I'm definitely going to watch The Summer We Left Behind.”

“I hope you enjoy it.”

The student nodded enthusiastically before looking back at Jeongwoo. “I won't tell anyone you're here.”

Jeongwoo smiled. “Thank you.”

After signing the student's notebook, he handed it back. The student bowed slightly before walking away, glancing back once more before disappearing toward the counter. Woongki watched him go then looked at Jeongwoo.

“You really bribed your fan with an autograph.”

Jeongwoo leaned back in his chair. “It wasn't a bribe.”

“What was it?”

“A confidentiality agreement.”

Woongki laughed again. Jeongwoo smiled across the table. For a brief moment, neither said anything. 

The cafe carried on around them, students talking, cups being placed on tables, quiet music playing overhead and somehow, sitting there together no longer felt like sitting across from a stranger. It felt familiar but not quite the way it had once been yet familiar enough that neither of them seemed particularly eager to leave.

Eventually, the laughter settled into something quieter. Jeongwoo took another sip of his drink, his eyes wandering toward the window. Outside, students passed in small groups, backpacks slung over their shoulders, their conversations carrying faintly through the glass.

For a while, neither of them spoke. It wasn't uncomfortable anymore, just quiet.

Jeongwoo looked back at Woongki. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Woongki lowered his cup. “What is it?”

Jeongwoo hesitated, fingers shifting around the cardboard sleeve. “Your film.”

Woongki’s expression remained neutral. “Okay.”

“I keep thinking about what you said.”

Woongki waited.

“About the two people. The ones you knew.” Jeongwoo held his gaze. “You said one of them ended things because he thought he was holding the other person back. And that they met again years later.”

A small nod. “Yeah.”

Jeongwoo swallowed. “Is it…” He stopped.

Woongki said nothing, giving him time to finish.

“Is it about us?”

The question settled between them. Woongki didn’t look surprised. He simply lowered his gaze to his drink, and for several seconds, the only sound between them was the muted clatter of cups behind the counter.

Then he smiled faintly. “Why do you think that?”

It wasn’t an answer.

“Because you talk about it like it’s a memory you chose to remember.”

Woongki’s fingers tightened slightly around his cup. “A writer has to remember things.”

“You’re also the director.”

“I wrote it first.”

Jeongwoo smiled despite himself. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

The smile faded as quickly as it came. Jeongwoo studied him for a moment.

The story felt painfully familiar not because every detail matched, but because the emotional shape did.

A young person who believed loving someone meant knowing when to step aside. Someone who decided on behalf of two people, that leaving was kinder than staying. They're just young enough to believe they could protect another person’s future by removing themselves from it.

They stayed at the cafe a little longer after that. Neither of them brought up the film again. Jeongwoo didn't pry. Maybe because he knew that if he asked the wrong question, Woongki would retreat behind that careful, composed expression he had been wearing all evening. And after everything they had already said, Jeongwoo wasn't ready to hear an answer either.

By the time they stepped outside, the night had settled comfortably around them. The streets were quieter now, the noise of the city softened by the late hour.

Woongki slipped his hands into his coat pockets. "I should probably head home."

Jeongwoo glanced at the time on his phone before looking back at him. "I'll drive you."

Woongki shook his head almost immediately. "You don't have to."

"It's late."

"I can take a taxi."

"Woongki."

The director looked at him. Jeongwoo gave him a look that was almost the same one he used to give him years ago whenever Woongki insisted he could handle something himself. "I said I'll drive you."

For a second, something almost amused flickered across Woongki's face. That made Woongki smile but he still shook his head. "Really. I'll be fine."

Jeongwoo studied him for a moment, then finally sighed. "Fine."

He didn't argue. Instead, they stood there in an awkward silence, neither quite sure how to end the night. Jeongwoo shoved his hands into his pockets. Then an idea occurred to him. "At least give me your number."

Woongki blinked. "My number?"

"So I know you got home safely."

"You don't need to—"

"I know."

Jeongwoo smiled faintly. "But I'd still like to have it."

Woongki opened his mouth, probably searching for another excuse. There wasn't one. They had spent the entire evening talking as though no time had passed. They had shared a table, coffee, memories, jokes. Jeongwoo had driven the conversation forward when it became awkward, and Woongki had stayed instead of leaving. Refusing a phone number now would feel strange.

So, after a moment, Woongki pulled out his phone. "Give me yours."

Jeongwoo handed his phone over. Their fingers brushed briefly when Woongki took it. Woongki entered his number, saved his own name, then handed the phone back.

Jeongwoo glanced down.

Woongki.

Just his name. Nothing else yet seeing it there felt more significant than it should have.

Jeongwoo saved his own number on Woongki's phone in return. "Now you have no excuse not to answer when I text."

Woongki raised an eyebrow. "That's assuming I'll text you."

"You won't?"

"I didn't say that."

Jeongwoo laughed softly. There it was again. That familiar rhythm. A little teasing. A little hesitation. Neither of them saying quite what they meant.

Woongki stepped back. "I'll see you around."

Jeongwoo watched him turn and walk toward the street. After a few steps, Woongki looked back. Jeongwoo was still standing there. Their eyes met then Woongki gave him a small nod before continuing on. Jeongwoo remained where he was until Woongki disappeared into the crowd. Only then did he look down at his phone.

His thumb hovered over the new contact.

Woongki.

For years, that name had existed only in the most carefully sealed part of his memory. Now it was sitting in his phone again. A few seconds later, a thought surfaced. Not the question he'd refused to ask at the cafe.

Something quieter and far more dangerous. He thought about Woongki's film. The way Woongki had described the story without ever quite looking at him then there were the smaller things. The way he spoke about love as if he wasn't describing something he had imagined, but something he had once lived. And, most unsettling of all, the things Jeongwoo himself had said during the interview.

He stared at Woongki's name for another moment. Maybe it was coincidence and Woongki had simply written a story inspired by someone else and all these similarities were nothing more than pieces of a life that could belong to anyone.

But Jeongwoo had spent enough years acting to recognize when something felt rehearsed and tonight, for the first time, he had the distinct feeling that Woongki's careful answers weren't hiding the absence of a story.

They were hiding the story itself.

Jeongwoo slipped his phone back into his pocket.

He wasn't going to ask Woongki tonight. He wasn't even sure he was ready to ask him tomorrow but he was going to find out. One way or another, Jeongwoo was going to know whether The Summer We Left Behind was simply a story Woongki had written or whether, buried beneath the fiction, the two people he had written about had always been them.

The first message came less than an hour after they parted.

Jeongwoo stared at the new contact on his phone for longer than necessary before finally typing.

Jeongwoo: Did you get home?

The reply came a few minutes later.

Woongki: Yes. Just got in.

Jeongwoo smiled despite himself.

Jeongwoo: Good.

A pause. Then...

Woongki: You?

Jeongwoo: Still on the way.

Woongki: Then get home safely.

It was such an ordinary exchange and it felt like opening a door that had been closed for years. 

After that, they didn't suddenly start talking all day. It happened gradually. A message here. A reply there. Sometimes an entire day passed without either of them saying anything. Other times, one message stretched into a conversation neither had planned to have.

Woongki: Did you eat?

Jeongwoo: That's my line.

Woongki: You didn't answer.

Jeongwoo: I ate.

Woongki: Properly?

Jeongwoo: Why are you interrogating me?

Woongki: Because I know you.

Jeongwoo stared at that last message for a moment.

Jeongwoo: Apparently you still do.

The typing indicator appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Woongki: Maybe some things don't change overnight.

Jeongwoo didn't know how to answer that. So he sent a picture of the convenience-store meal sitting in front of him instead.

Jeongwoo: Happy now?

Woongki replied with a laughing emoji.

It was enough.

Their careers, meanwhile, seemed to accelerate at exactly the same time.

Jeongwoo's When the Stars Forget Us entered its full promotional period. His days became a blur of early call times, rehearsals, press conferences, magazine shoots, radio appearances, interviews, and filmed promotional content. Posters of him as Kang Jihyun appeared across the city. The drama's trailers and clips spread online, drawing attention to its central love story and Jihyun's stubborn devotion. Every interviewer wanted to know the same things.

"Why had he chosen the role?"

"What did he think of Jihyun's way of loving?"

"Would he have made the same choices?"

Jeongwoo answered carefully. He spoke about the character. About understanding someone who continued to hold on even when love became difficult. About how sometimes people loved imperfectly because they didn't know any other way. He kept the answers professional. Then, in the middle of one interview, a reporter asked whether playing someone so deeply in love had made him think differently about his own experiences.

Jeongwoo smiled politely. "Maybe actors always bring a little of themselves into their work." Then he moved on.

Across town, Woongki's The Summer We Left Behind was moving through its own promotional circuit. Where Jeongwoo spent his days under studio lights and television cameras, Woongki found himself standing beneath cinema banners, festival backdrops, and enormous posters bearing the film's title.

He appeared at press conferences with his lead actors, Park Juwon and Jian Chihen, sitting between them as reporters asked about the film's themes. There were magazine shoots, interviews, photo calls, short-form promotional videos, and festival appearances.

Juwon was naturally expressive in interviews. Chihen often lightened the mood whenever the questions became too serious.

Woongki, meanwhile, remained measured. Whenever someone asked why he had chosen to make a story about first love, he gave them an answer that revealed just enough. "Because some relationships stay with us."

When they asked why the characters separated despite loving each other, he said, "Sometimes people make decisions because they think it's love."

And when someone asked whether the story was personal, his expression barely changed. "Every story a writer makes becomes personal in some way." then he would smile and let the actors take the next question.

Their promotional schedules began to look strangely parallel. Jeongwoo would spend the morning talking about a fictional man who couldn't let go. That afternoon, Woongki would be asked about two fictional lovers who had. Jeongwoo would sit beneath the title of a drama about holding on. Woongki would stand beneath the title of a film about letting go.

Both were asked what love meant to them or were asked whether their characters' choices were right or were asked whether they believed people could truly move on from their first love and neither gave an answer that was quite as simple as the question. Yet while their faces appeared in different advertisements and their names circulated alongside different projects, their phones quietly carried the same private conversation.

One afternoon, after finishing a press event, Jeongwoo found a message waiting.

Woongki: Saw the new trailer.

Jeongwoo replied immediately.

Jeongwoo: And?

Woongki: You're good.

Jeongwoo: That's it?

Woongki: What do you want me to say?

Jeongwoo: At least pretend to be impressed.

A few seconds later...

Woongki: I'm very impressed.

Jeongwoo: You sound very sincere.

Woongki: I am.

Jeongwoo laughed quietly in the back of the van.

His manager glanced toward him. "What?"

"Nothing." He put his phone away.

A few days later, Woongki sent him a picture from one of his promotional events.

Juwon was standing beside him, grinning at the camera. Chihen had somehow ended up half out of frame.

Jeongwoo: You look tired.

Woongki: That's because I am.

Jeongwoo: Get some sleep.

Woongki: Says the man who has three interviews tomorrow.

Jeongwoo: I'm young.

Woongki: You're not.

Jeongwoo stared at the message in disbelief.

Jeongwoo: You really haven't changed.

The reply came quickly.

Woongki: Neither have you.

This time, Jeongwoo didn't answer. He simply smiled at the screen. 

As the weeks passed, their projects drew closer to their respective premieres.

Jeongwoo's drama gathered more attention with every promotional appearance. Viewers began discussing Kang Jihyun's love story before the first episode had even aired, dissecting trailers and wondering how far his devotion would take him.

Woongki's film generated a different kind of curiosity. The quieter story. The two lovers who had chosen separation. The years between them. The question of whether love could survive the life they had built without each other. The more Woongki promoted it, the more people wanted to know whether there was something real underneath the story. He never gave them much and that only made people more curious.

Jeongwoo watched some of those interviews when his own schedule allowed. He noticed the way Woongki answered certain questions. The pauses. The slight changes in expression. The answers that sounded carefully chosen. He never mentioned any of it.

Not yet.

Instead, their messages continued.

A photo of coffee, complaint about an early call time, congratulatory message after a successful event, late-night question about whether the other was still awake Sometimes they talked about work or simply nothing or sometimes one of them would send a message and leave the other staring at it a little longer than necessary.

Their lives were moving forward on two separate tracks: two careers, two projects, two very public stories about love. In the quiet space between schedules, they were finding their way back into each other's days. Neither of them seemed ready to ask what that meant, not while the cameras were still watching, not while the premieres were getting closer.

For now, there were still interviews to give, films to promote, dramas to launch and a past neither of them had quite figured out how to leave behind.

The premiere of The Summer We Left Behind was the kind of event that made it clear how far Woongki had come.

The cinema was filled with familiar faces from the industry of veteran actors, established stars, rising rookies, filmmakers, producers, and writers. A few well-known names drew the usual burst of camera flashes at the entrance, while younger actors arrived with quieter excitement, greeting seniors they had only seen on screen before.

There were also people who had come simply because they knew Woongki like friends from university, colleagues who had followed his work from the beginning, people who had read his early scripts, listened to him talk endlessly about films, and remembered when directing a feature had still been something he spoke about as a distant possibility.

Jeongwoo was also among them. His invitation had come through the production house, which had longstanding ties with his entertainment agency. His presence was hardly unusual, especially with his own drama currently in the middle of its promotional period.

Still, as he took his seat inside the theater, Jeongwoo found himself thinking that he would have come regardless.

The lights dimmed once everyone had settled. Before the screening began, the cast and director took the stage for a short greeting.

Park Juwon introduced himself first, followed by Jian Chihen. Both spoke briefly about their characters and the experience of making the film. "It's a story about two people who loved each other when they were young," Juwon explained. "They had their own dreams, their own plans, and at some point, they believed they had to choose between love and the lives they wanted."

Chihen smiled as he added, "But I think the film asks whether that choice was really necessary in the first place."

The audience responded with warm applause then the microphone was passed to Woongki.

He gave a small bow. "Hello. I'm Cha Woongki, the writer and director of The Summer We Left Behind."

The applause faded. Woongki looked across the theater anx for a brief moment, his eyes landed on Jeongwoo.

"I think this is a fairly simple story," he began. "Two people meet when they're young. They fall in love. They separate. And many years later, they meet again."

A few people smiled at the simplicity of it.

"But I don't think the feelings people have when they're young are always simple."

Jeongwoo's expression remained still.

Woongki continued, his voice calm. "When we're young, we make decisions based on what we believe at the time. Sometimes we think we're doing the right thing. Sometimes we only understand those choices much later." He paused briefly. "That's what I wanted to explore with this film."

Nothing about the words sounded unusual. It was exactly the sort of thing a director might say at a premiere. Yet Jeongwoo found himself listening differently. 

Woongki glanced toward the audience again. "I hope you won't worry too much about deciding who was right or wrong." A faint smile appeared on his face. "Just watch what happens to them." Another pause. "And maybe, by the end, you'll understand why some people can spend years apart and still find their way back to the same place."

The theater grew quiet for a beat then the warm and appreciative applause came.

Around Jeongwoo, people smiled and nodded at the sentiment. No one looked twice at Woongki. No one seemed to hear anything beyond a director speaking about his film. But Jeongwoo did because there was something in the way Woongki had said it. Neither a confession nor an explanation.

Just a sentence that somehow felt less like something meant for an audience and more like something he had been carrying for a very long time. Jeongwoo lowered his eyes to the program in his hands as the stage lights began to fade.

The film was about to begin and that night, he wasn't sure whether he was ready to watch it.

The theater fell completely dark. The last traces of conversation disappeared as the production logo appeared on the screen. Jeongwoo settled deeper into his seat. Beside him, his manager had already gone quiet, along with everyone else. The first notes of the score began then the title appeared: THE SUMMER WE LEFT BEHIND

The screen faded into morning. A university campus. Two young men crossing the courtyard from opposite directions, each carrying more things than they could reasonably manage. Park Juwon appeared first. His character was a university student with a battered backpack, a stack of books tucked against his chest, and the unmistakable look of someone who had already been awake for too long. Then Jian Chihen appeared. He was sitting on a bench beneath a tree, a notebook balanced on one knee, scribbling something down before looking up. Their first meeting was almost laughably ordinary.

One dropped his papers.

The other helped pick them up.

A brief exchange.

A name.

A smile.

Then they went their separate ways.

There was no dramatic music.

The film simply allowed them to meet again.

A shared table at the university cafeteria.

Cheap convenience-store meals eaten after dark.

Arguments over assignments.

One waiting outside a classroom while the other finished.

A cup of coffee placed silently beside someone who had forgotten to eat.

Their relationship unfolded in little moments rather than declarations.

Juwon's character wanted to act. He talked about auditions with an excitement he couldn't hide, even when the auditions ended in rejection. Chihen's character wanted to make films. He was always carrying a notebook since he's always writing and observing. Sometimes he would sit across from Juwon and listen to him talk for twenty minutes without interrupting. The audience began laughing at their smaller moments. A failed attempt at cooking. An argument over which movie to watch. One stealing the other's food and pretending innocence.

The kind of scenes that made their relationship feel lived-in before the film ever called them lovers. Jeongwoo watched quietly. His eyes remained fixed on the screen. At first, he told himself there was nothing strange about it. Of course two university students would eat cheap food, one character would carry notebooks, young people would talk about dreams as if they had all the time in the world. None of it meant anything.

Then came a scene in which Juwon's character was practicing an audition in an empty classroom. He kept getting one particular line wrong. Chihen's character watched from the back. After the third failed attempt, he finally said, "Again."

Juwon turned around, annoyed. "You've said that five times."

"Then do it six."

A ripple of laughter moved through the theater.

Jeongwoo smiled faintly that sounded familiar.

But still, it could have been anyone.

The film continued.

Their affection became more obvious.

A hand reaching across a table.

A jacket draped over someone's shoulders.

Falling asleep beside each other while studying.

A quiet kiss outside a convenience store.

The audience responded warmly to those moments.

Someone a few seats ahead gave a soft, delighted laugh when Chihen's character secretly took a picture of Juwon sleeping.

Another person whispered something to their companion.

The room gradually settled into the comfortable rhythm of the film.

Then came the scene. It was small. So small that no one else seemed to understand why Jeongwoo suddenly stopped breathing. The two characters were sitting on the steps outside an old university building.

Juwon had failed another audition. He was frustrated, exhausted, and trying to pretend he wasn't. Chihen sat beside him with two cartons of milk. He handed one over. Juwon took it.

For a while, neither spoke. Then Juwon looked at him and said, "Do you think I'll actually make it?"

Chihen smiled. "You will."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"How?"

Chihen looked at him. "Because you always go back."

Jeongwoo's fingers tightened around the armrest. That wasn't the part. Not yet. The scene continued.

Juwon looked down at the milk carton. "I don't even like this."

Chihen laughed. "You always say that."

"Because it's true."

"You still drink it."

Juwon took another sip. "Because you bought it."

A few people in the theater laughed softly. Jeongwoo didn't.

His eyes had begun to sting. He knew this. Not just the words. The exact scene. The old building. The cheap milk. The way they had sat beside each other after one of his early auditions.

The stupid argument about whether the milk tasted terrible.

The fact that Jeongwoo had only kept drinking it because Woongki had bought it for him.

That wasn't something that could have been invented from a generic memory.

It had happened.

To both them.

Jeongwoo slowly turned his gaze away from the screen.

Across the theater, Woongki sat completely still. His face revealed almost nothing, eyes remained on the screen, hands rested together in his lap.

Jeongwoo looked back at the film. The realization didn't arrive all at once. It spread through him quietly

The film continued. The characters grew older. Their dreams began taking shape. Juwon's opportunities increased. Chihen struggled to find someone willing to take a chance on his scripts.

Their schedules became harder to reconcile.

Their conversations became shorter.

The audience's laughter gradually disappeared.

The romance remained, but something underneath it had changed.

There was love.

There was still so much love and that was what made everything hurt.

One evening, Juwon's character came home late.

Chihen was waiting. "You didn't eat."

"I was busy."

"I know."

"I said I'm fine."

"I know."

Neither raised their voice. That somehow made the scene worse. The film showed the slow accumulation of everything they had refused to say.

One character becoming increasingly successful. The other becoming increasingly convinced that he was standing in the way.

Then came the breakup. There was no betrayal. No screaming. No cruel words. Just two people sitting across from each other, both already knowing what the other was about to say.

Juwon's character was crying before he even spoke. "I don't understand."

Chihen's eyes were red. "I know."

"Then explain it to me."

Silence. "I love you."

Chihen swallowed. "I know."

"Then why are you doing this?"

The answer took several seconds. "Because I don't want you to have to choose between me and the life you want."

Jeongwoo's chest tightened. Around him, the theater had become completely silent. No one shifted. No one whispered.

On the screen, Juwon shook his head. "You don't get to decide that for me."

Chihen looked at him and for the first time, his composure broke. "I'm scared that one day you'll look back and think I was the reason you didn't become who you wanted to be."

Juwon reached for him. Chihen pulled away. They both cried. Neither stopped loving the other.

That was the cruelest part. The audience began quietly breaking with them. Someone sniffled. A woman a few rows ahead covered her mouth. Even the reporters who had spent the evening taking notes had stopped writing.

The film had ceased to feel like a premiere. It felt like something intimate they had accidentally been allowed to witness.

Jeongwoo couldn't look anywhere but the screen. Then, instinctively, his gaze shifted toward Woongki.

Woongki hadn't moved. His expression was almost blank and too still until a tear slipped down his cheek.

He didn't wipe them away. His eyes remained fixed on the two people on the screen as they sat on opposite sides of the same room, breaking each other's hearts because they thought it was the only way they could love each other. Jeongwoo stared at him and suddenly, there was nothing left to wonder about.

The film wasn't inspired by something vaguely familiar. It wasn't a story assembled from someone else's memories. The details were theirs. The choices were theirs. The pain was theirs and sitting only a few seats away, Woongki was watching their past unfold on a screen in front of hundreds of people.

Jeongwoo turned back toward the film. The breakup scene continued but he barely saw it anymore because now he knew. The Summer We Left Behind wasn't simply a film Woongki had written. It was the story they had once lived.

The breakup wasn't the end of the film.

Years passed. The screen changed with them. The two characters built the lives they had once dreamed about. Juwon's character became the actor he had always wanted to be. Chihen's character finally made films of his own.

They became successful, older and became the people they had once promised each other they would become then, one ordinary day, they met again.

There was no dramatic reunion.

No running through an airport.

No swelling declaration of love.

Just two people standing across from each other after years apart.

Juwon's character smiled first. Chihen smiled back.

They talked.

They walked.

They sat together over coffee.

The conversation was awkward at first, then gradually became easier.

They spoke about their lives about work, things they had missed, everything that had happened while they weren't there to witness it but neither asked whether the other had moved on nor there was still something between them.

The film never gave the audience that answer. Instead, it ended with the two of them walking side by side down a familiar street. Their shoulders nearly touched. Once, Juwon's hand brushed against Chihen's. Neither pulled away. The camera stayed behind them. Then the screen slowly faded to black. Just two people walking in the same direction again.

The credits began to roll. For a few seconds, the theater remained completely silent then someone stood, another followed and suddenly the entire cinema was on its feet. Applause filled the room. It wasn't the polite applause from the stage greeting. It was loud, sustained, emotional. People were wiping their eyes while clapping. Others were smiling through tears, turning to the people beside them as if they needed to immediately tell someone how much the ending had affected them.

Jeongwoo remained seated for a moment. He couldn't move. He was still staring at the black screen, that ending.

Of course Woongki had left it there. Open enough for everyone to decide what happened next. Except Jeongwoo didn't have that luxury. He knew what had happened before the film began. He knew what the separation had been based on and now he was left wondering what Woongki believed came after.

Juwon and Chihen were the first to reach Woongki. Juwon wrapped both arms around him. "You made me cry in front of everyone."

Woongki laughed, caught off guard by the hug. Chihen joined them a moment later, pulling Woongki into another embrace. "For a director who kept telling us not to overthink the emotions, you really made us suffer."

Woongki laughed again, his eyes still suspiciously red. "I think you two did most of the suffering yourselves."

"You wrote the script," Juwon protested.

"And you agreed to act in it."

That earned another round of laughter. The three eventually separated, and Woongki wiped beneath one eye with the back of his hand.

Juwon noticed. "You cried too."

Woongki immediately shook his head. "No."

"You absolutely did."

"I had something in my eye."

Chihen laughed. "Both eyes?"

Woongki looked at them, then at the audience. "Fine. Maybe I cried."

The audience laughed. 

"But crying at your own movie is probably a little biased, don't you think?"

The laughter grew louder.

Woongki smiled, finally allowing himself to relax. The actors and director took their final bows.

Juwon thanked everyone for coming. Chihen encouraged the audience to watch the film again with friends. Woongki thanked the cast, crew, and everyone who had supported the project from the beginning.

He spoke simply. "I hope everyone takes something different from the film. Maybe you'll agree with the characters. Maybe you'll be angry at them. Maybe you'll want a different ending." He smiled. "But whatever you feel, I hope the story stays with you for a little while."

The applause returned. 

Jeongwoo lowered his gaze because it already had. Way before this film came to its existence.

Once the formal premiere ended, the theater lobby became a blur of movement. Reporters hurried to their next interviews. Guests exchanged impressions. Phones came out. Social media feeds began filling almost immediately. 

"A beautiful and heartbreaking story about first love."

"One of the most emotionally resonant films of the season."

"The ending will stay with you long after the credits."

"Park Juwon and Jian Chihen deliver performances that make every quiet moment hurt."

The reactions spread quickly. Actors who had attended the premiere posted photographs and encouraged their followers to watch the film. Some praised Woongki's direction. Others talked about the chemistry between Juwon and Chihen. Several simply posted pictures of themselves holding the film's promotional poster with captions telling people to see it for themselves. Even the people who had walked into the theater knowing nothing about the film were now talking about it.

Juwon and Chihen were pulled into a few quick interviews almost immediately.

"What did you think of the ending?"

"Do you believe the characters got back together?"

Juwon laughed. "That's for the audience to decide."

Chihen smiled. "I think they finally gave themselves the chance to find out."

The reporters loved the answer.

Then Woongki was pulled into another interview. "Director, was the ending intentionally left ambiguous?"

Woongki smiled. "I think some things are more meaningful when you don't answer them for the audience."

"And the tears tonight?"

He laughed. "That was unfortunate evidence that I'm too emotionally attached to my own movie."

Another burst of laughter.

The interviews continued. The cameras moved. The crowd shifted. The premiere became a successful night almost exactly as everyone had hoped.

Everyone except, perhaps, Jeongwoo because while the rest of the world was discussing the film's ending, Jeongwoo wasn't thinking about the characters anymore.

He was thinking about Woongki.

About the story.

About the years between them.

And about what Woongki had chosen not to show.

Jeongwoo eventually slipped away from the lobby. He didn't leave the building. Instead, he followed the signs toward the private waiting rooms.

Woongki's name was printed on one of the doors. Jeongwoo stopped outside it. For the first time that evening, there were no cameras. Jeongwoo stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at it. He had questions. Too many of them. And for once, he wasn't sure he could pretend they didn't matter.

Inside that room was the person who had written the story. The person who had lived the story and the only person who could finally tell him whether the ending on the screen was fiction or whether Woongki had simply left their own ending unfinished. So Jeongwoo waited.

By the time Woongki finally made his way back to his waiting room, the noise from the lobby had softened into a distant murmur. He opened the door then stopped. Jeongwoo was standing inside. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Woongki looked at him, then briefly toward the staff members waiting nearby. "Could you give us a few minutes?"

One of them hesitated. 

"We'll just be discussing a potential project," Woongki added calmly. It was a reasonable excuse. Jeongwoo had his own drama. Woongki had just premiered his film. Their agencies had connections. No one would think much of two actors and a director talking privately after a premiere.

The staff nodded and quietly filed out. The door closed. Silence settled between them. Jeongwoo didn't move and so did Woongki.

The room suddenly felt impossibly small.

Finally, Jeongwoo crossed it.

Woongki barely had time to react before Jeongwoo stepped behind him and wrapped both arms around his waist then Woongki froze.

Jeongwoo rested his forehead against the back of his shoulder. "Congratulations." His voice was quiet.

Woongki's hands slowly fell to his sides. "Thank you."

Then Jeongwoo tightened his arms slightly. "I missed this."

Woongki's breath caught.

"I missed feeling you between my arms."

The words were so simple that they hurt more than anything else Jeongwoo could have said.

Woongki closed his eyes. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to stand there.

Then Jeongwoo spoke again. "I'm sorry."

Woongki opened his eyes. "For what?"

Jeongwoo swallowed. "For something I didn't even know I should have apologized for."

His arms loosened, but he didn't let go. "I watched your film."

Woongki went still. "I know."

"I realized." A long silence. "Some of those things..." Jeongwoo's voice faltered. "They weren't just things you made up."

Woongki lowered his gaze.

"You put us in that film." It wasn't a question.

Woongki didn't deny it. Instead, he quietly said, "I did."

Jeongwoo finally let him go. Woongki turned around. They stood facing each other. There was no audience now and no carefully prepared answers. Just the two of them.

"I didn't make it because I wanted you back," Woongki said.

Jeongwoo's expression shifted.

"I know that probably sounds strange."

"It doesn't."

Woongki gave a small, tired smile. "I made it because I needed to stop carrying you the way I had been carrying you."

Jeongwoo said nothing.

"I thought I had let you go years ago." Woongki's eyes dropped briefly. "I thought if I stayed away long enough, built a life of my own, made the films I wanted to make, eventually you'd become nothing more than a memory." His smile faded. "But you didn't."

Jeongwoo's throat tightened.

"You were always there somewhere. In the stories I wrote. In the things I noticed. In the kind of people I kept putting on screen." He took a slow breath. "So I decided to put it all into one film."

The room was silent.

"I thought if I could tell our story from beginning to end, maybe I could finally look at it as something that belonged to the past." Woongki's voice grew quieter. "Maybe I could finally stop wondering what would've happened if I had made different choices."

Jeongwoo looked at him. "Do you regret them?"

Woongki didn't answer immediately. When he finally did, his voice was almost a whisper. "Yes." The honesty of it settled heavily between them. "I regret thinking I knew what was best for you." His eyes glistened. "I regret making a decision for both of us. I regret believing that loving you meant deciding when you should be allowed to stop loving me."

Jeongwoo's eyes lowered.

"But..." Woongki smiled faintly. "I don't regret seeing you become everything you wanted to be."

Jeongwoo looked back at him.

"You were meant to soar." His voice broke slightly on the last word. "And you did." A tear finally slipped down his cheek. "I watched you become better than I ever imagined. Bigger than the boy who used to come home from auditions exhausted and still insist he would try again tomorrow."

Jeongwoo's lips trembled.

"And even when it hurt to watch from far away, I was proud of you." Woongki wiped his cheek quickly, almost embarrassed by the tears. "That's why I made the film." He looked directly at Jeongwoo. "It was the last piece of love I could give you."

Jeongwoo didn't move.

Woongki's voice softened. "Not to ask you to come back." A pause. "Not to make you remember me." His eyes stayed on Jeongwoo's. "Just to finally tell you that I loved you enough to let you go." He took a shaky breath. "And that even now, after everything, I don't regret that you became the person you were always meant to be." Then Woongki fell silent and for the first time that night, he had nothing left to hide.

For a moment, Jeongwoo could only look at him then he stepped closer. "So you're deciding for both of us again."

Woongki's eyes lifted.

Jeongwoo's voice wasn't angry, that somehow made it harder to hear. "You decided back then that letting me go was what I needed." He paused. "And now you've decided that putting everything into a film is what you need to finally let me go."

Woongki opened his mouth, but Jeongwoo continued gently. "But this time, you're doing it for yourself."

Woongki went quiet. "Yes."

Jeongwoo nodded slowly. "Then I understand."

He looked down for a moment, gathering the words he'd carried for years. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we should put that part of our lives on a shelf."

Woongki's expression shifted.

"Not erase it," Jeongwoo added. "Not pretend it didn't happen. Just... let it stay where it belongs." He gave a faint smile. "We were young. We loved each other. We made choices we thought were right." His voice softened. "And we both survived them."

Woongki looked at him, eyes still wet.

"But I need you to know something." Jeongwoo took another step closer. "I never stopped thinking about you."

Woongki's breath caught.

"I was angry." A small, almost humorless laugh escaped Jeongwoo. "God, I was so angry." He looked away. "I didn't understand how you could love me and still decide that I was better off without you. For a long time, I thought you didn't trust me enough to let me make my own choices."

Woongki lowered his eyes.

"And maybe I was right to be angry." Jeongwoo's voice softened. "But I also understood you."

Woongki looked back at him.

"I knew why you did it." A pause. "That didn't make it hurt less." Jeongwoo swallowed. "But I understood." The silence between them felt different now. "I've watched you too," Jeongwoo said. "You know."

Woongki blinked.

"Your work. Your films. Everything you've built." A smile appeared on Jeongwoo's face. "I'm proud of you."

Woongki's eyes immediately filled again.

"You've always wanted to tell stories. You actually did it." Jeongwoo glanced toward the door, toward the faint noise of people still moving through the building outside. "And tonight, you showed everyone one of them." His gaze returned to Woongki. "So maybe we really should put the past to rest."

Woongki nodded faintly. "Maybe we should."

Jeongwoo was quiet for a moment then he smiled. "But can I ask you something?"

Woongki looked at him cautiously. "What?"

Jeongwoo stepped close enough that there was barely any space left between them. "Can I start loving you again now?"

"You said you wanted to free yourself from the idea of me," Jeongwoo whispered. "So maybe we can leave that version of us behind." His voice trembled slightly. "And maybe I can get to know you again."

Woongki's lips parted, but no words came.

Jeongwoo's smile softened. "Can I love this version of you?"

A tear slipped down Woongki's cheek.

Jeongwoo didn't wait for an answer. He wrapped his arms around him again. This time, Woongki turned into the embrace instead of standing frozen inside it. His hands slowly found the back of Jeongwoo's jacket, gripping the fabric as though he was afraid that if he loosened his hold, this would become another memory.

Jeongwoo held him tighter. "I still love you."

Woongki shut his eyes.

"I tried not to." Jeongwoo's voice broke against his hair. "I really tried." His arms tightened around him. "But I never stopped." And for the first time in years, neither of them tried to let go.

Jeongwoo's arms tightened around him, almost instinctively, as though even after all these years, some part of him was still afraid Woongki might disappear if he loosened his hold.

“There’s something else,” he said quietly.

Woongki lifted his head from Jeongwoo's shoulder.

Jeongwoo smiled faintly. “It’s about acting.”

Woongki waited.

“When I started getting roles where I had to fall in love with someone…” He paused, his thumb gently tracing the fabric at Woongki's back. “I used to imagine it was you.”

Woongki's expression softened immediately.

“I'd look at my scene partner and imagine your face instead.” Jeongwoo gave a small, almost shy laugh. “Especially when I had to say things I couldn't say to you anymore.”

He glanced down, his smile turning a little happier.

“If the script said, ‘I missed you,’ I imagined telling you.” His fingers curled gently against Woongki's back. “If it said, ‘I love you,’ I imagined you were the one standing in front of me.”

Woongki's eyes began to shine.

“And when I had to hold someone…” Jeongwoo hesitated, then smiled. “I'd imagine it was you.”

There was something almost fond about the confession now, despite the ache underneath it. “I'd think about how you used to fit here.” He pulled Woongki a little closer, resting a hand between his shoulder blades. “Sometimes I'd even imagine what you'd do. Whether you'd laugh at me for saying something too cheesy. Whether you'd hide your face if I kissed your forehead.” His smile grew. “You always did that.”

Woongki let out a tiny, broken laugh through his tears.

The answer came so easily that Woongki went quiet again.

Jeongwoo brushed his thumb beneath Woongki's eye. “There were scenes where I had to look at someone like they were the only person in the room.” His voice lowered. “Those were the easiest ones.”

“Because you imagined me?”

“Because I didn't have to imagine very hard.”

Woongki's breath caught.

Jeongwoo smiled at him, soft and affectionate. “I knew that look already.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything then Jeongwoo continued. “I don't think I realized how often I was doing it until much later. I would finish a scene, hear ‘cut,’ and suddenly remember that the person I wanted to be saying those things to wasn't actually there.” His gaze dropped briefly. “And I think that was the hardest part.”

Woongki reached up, his fingers lightly catching the front of Jeongwoo's shirt. “You became such a good actor,” he whispered.

Jeongwoo laughed softly. “Maybe I had good motivation.”

That earned another small, tearful smile from Woongki.

Jeongwoo leaned closer until their foreheads touched. “But I don't want to keep borrowing my characters' words anymore.”

Woongki looked at him.

“If I want to tell you I missed you, I want to tell you myself.” His thumb brushed slowly across Woongki's cheek. “If I want to hold you, I don't want to have to pretend you're someone else.”

A quiet breath left Woongki.

“And if I want to tell you I love you…” Jeongwoo smiled, his eyes warm despite the tears gathering there. “I want you to know I'm saying it to you.” He pulled Woongki into his arms again, this time without hesitation. “I spent so many years giving pieces of what I felt for you to characters who didn't even know you existed.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to Woongki's temple. “I think I'd like to be a little selfish now.” Another kiss, softer this time, against his hair. “I want to keep those words for you.”

Woongki finally broke, burying his face against Jeongwoo's chest as his shoulders trembled.

Jeongwoo held him closer. “I still love you,” he whispered into his hair. “I think I've been finding ways to say it for years.” His hand moved slowly up and down Woongki's back. “I just didn't get to say it to you.” He pulled back enough to look at him. “Until now.”

Woongki's tears kept falling.

Jeongwoo reached up and wiped one away with his thumb. “Hey.” His voice was soft. “Look at me.”

Woongki slowly raised his eyes.

Jeongwoo smiled faintly, even though his own eyes were beginning to shine. “You don't have to figure everything out tonight.”

Woongki's lips trembled. “I don't know what to do.”

“I know.”

“I don't know if I can—”

“You don't have to.” Jeongwoo's thumb moved gently across his cheek. “You don't have to tell me we're getting back together. You don't have to promise me you'll love me the way you did when we were twenty.” He swallowed. “And you don't have to pretend you're not scared just because I finally said what I wanted.”

Woongki stared at him.

Jeongwoo took a quiet breath. “I want you to be confused.”

A tiny crease formed between Woongki's brows.

“Because I am too.” He gave a small, nervous smile. “I spent years thinking I'd know exactly what I'd say if I ever saw you again. I thought I'd be angry. I thought I'd ask why you left. I thought I'd tell you how much it hurt.” His fingers curled gently around Woongki's hand. “But now that you're actually standing here…” He shook his head. “I just want to know what you had for breakfast.”

Woongki blinked.

Jeongwoo laughed softly through the emotion. “I want to know what you do when you're tired. What kind of coffee you drink now. Whether you still forget to eat when you're working.”

A tear slipped down Woongki's cheek.

Jeongwoo wiped it away. “I want to hear you complain about your actors again. I want to know which scene you liked most in your own movie. I want to sit across from you somewhere nobody knows us and listen to you talk about things you care about.” His smile softened. “I want ordinary things with you.”

Woongki's breath caught.

“Not just the big things.” Jeongwoo's voice became quieter. “I don't need you to give me back the years we lost.” He looked directly into Woongki's eyes. “I can't get them back either.” A pause. “I just want to have the days we still have.”

Woongki's eyes filled again.

“And I'm not asking you to choose me over your work.” Jeongwoo shook his head. “I'm not asking you to change your life for me. I know how hard you worked for it. I watched you become this person.” His smile held unmistakable pride. “I saw your name on posters tonight and I was proud of you.”

Woongki's face crumpled.

“I was proud of you before I even knew the movie was about us.” Jeongwoo brushed his tears away again. “And that's the part I need you to understand.” His voice trembled slightly. “I never thought loving me was supposed to cost you your dreams.”

Woongki looked down.

“You thought you were protecting me.”

“I know.”

“And maybe you were trying to love me in the only way you knew how.”

Woongki's eyes closed.

“But you don't get to do that anymore.” There was no accusation in Jeongwoo's voice. Only a quiet certainty. “If you're scared, tell me.” He squeezed Woongki's hand. “If you think I'm asking for too much, tell me.” Another gentle squeeze. “If one day you realize you don't want this, tell me that too.” He took a breath. “I might be hurt. I probably will be.” His eyes softened. “But I'd rather hear something that hurts from you than spend another years believing I know what you want.”

Woongki's tears spilled over.

Jeongwoo leaned closer. “And if you wake up tomorrow and you're still confused…” He smiled. “Text me.”

Woongki let out a shaky laugh.

“That's it?”

“That's it.” Jeongwoo brushed his thumb beneath his eye. “Tell me you're confused. Tell me you're scared. Tell me you don't know what we're doing.” His smile grew warmer. “Then ask me if I've eaten.”

Woongki laughed through his tears. “You're just finding ways to text you...”

“I know.” Jeongwoo's expression softened again. “But I mean it.”

He leaned closer, giving Woongki plenty of time to move away. Woongki didn't. Their lips met gently. The kiss was soft and careful, carrying none of the practiced certainty. Jeongwoo had learned from years of playing romantic leads and when he pulled back, he stayed close enough that their noses almost touched.

“That,” he whispered, “was me.”

Woongki's eyes fluttered open.

“Not a scene.” Jeongwoo brushed a tear from the corner of his eye. “Not something I was told to say.” Another small kiss. “Not something I imagined was you.” His forehead rested against Woongki's. “You.”

Woongki's breathing broke.

“You're the one I'm talking to.” He kissed him once more, barely there. “And if I tell you I missed you, I mean I missed you.” His thumb stroked slowly over Woongki's cheek. “If I tell you I wanted to see you, I mean I wanted to see you.” A pause. “If I tell you I love you…” Jeongwoo's eyes held his. “I mean you.”

Woongki broke down completely.

He covered his face, shoulders shaking as years of restraint finally gave way.

Jeongwoo immediately gathered him into his arms. “I know.” He held him tighter. “I know.”

Woongki clutched at his shirt. “I was so afraid.”

“I know.”

“I thought you would hate me.”

“I could never hate you.”

“I thought I'd ruined everything.”

Jeongwoo closed his eyes, holding him as carefully as he could. “You didn't ruin everything.” His hand moved slowly over Woongki's back. “We lost time.” He pressed a kiss to Woongki's hair. “But we're here now.”

Woongki cried harder. Jeongwoo held him through it. “You don't have to make this easy for me.” A pause. “You don't have to take care of my feelings by yourself.” Another gentle stroke along his back. “Let me worry about myself.”

That earned a broken little laugh from Woongki.

“I can handle being scared.” Jeongwoo pulled back and wiped both of Woongki's cheeks. “I can handle not knowing.” His voice shook. “I just can't handle you deciding that I would be happier without you ever asking me.”

Woongki stared at him. “And I won't do that again.” His voice was barely audible. “I won't.”

Jeongwoo nodded. “Okay.”

Woongki took a shaky breath. “I don't know what I feel right now.”

“I know.”

“I know I love you.”

Jeongwoo's expression softened.

“But I don't know how to love you again.”

“Then don't.”

Woongki looked confused.

“Not yet,” Jeongwoo clarified. “You don't have to know how.”

He took Woongki's hand and gently held it between both of his.

“We can start with coffee.”

Woongki's eyes watered again.

“Then dinner.” A faint smile. “Then maybe you can tell me about your next film.”

Woongki laughed quietly. “And maybe I'll tell you when I'm worried instead of disappearing.”

Jeongwoo smiled. “That's a good start.”

“And if I'm scared?”

“Tell me.”

“If I don't know what I want?”

“Tell me.”

“If I change my mind?” Jeongwoo's smile faltered for only a moment, but he nodded. “Tell me.”

Woongki looked at their hands. “And you?”

Jeongwoo understood the question. “I'll tell you too.”

He squeezed his fingers. “I won't pretend I'm not scared.”

His gaze softened. “But I won't run from it either.”

Woongki nodded.

They promised something smaller, something quieter, something they could actually keep.

If they were scared, they would say so.

If they were confused, they would say so.

If they wanted to stay, they would say so.

And neither of them would ever again make a life-changing decision for two people alone.

Jeongwoo brought Woongki's hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles. Woongki looked at him for a long moment then Jeongwoo smiled. He pulled him back into his arms and this time, when Woongki rested against him, neither of them tried to figure out what came after.

For tonight, it was enough to know that they were still here.

Several months later, JL found himself sitting across from Jeongwoo and Woongki again.

The studio looked almost exactly the same. Same soft lighting, arrangement of chairs and table between them with neatly placed cue cards that JL had barely needed to glance at during their first interview.

Even the opening introduction felt strangely familiar except this time, there was no distance between the two men sitting beside each other. They had arrived together unlike their previous appearance, there was no carefully maintained space between their chairs.

JL smiled at the camera.“Welcome back, everyone. Today, I have two very familiar guests with me.”

Jeongwoo smiled politely. Woongki laughed.

JL turned toward them. “Actor Jeongwoo and director Woongki are back.”

The applause sign lit up behind the cameras. “And this time, you’re here for something completely different.”

Woongki nodded. “Thankfully.”

JL laughed. “Thankfully?”

“After the last movie, I think everyone deserves something happier.”

Jeongwoo glanced at him. “I agree.”

JL raised an eyebrow at the immediate agreement. “That's convenient.”

The three of them laughed.

Woongki leaned slightly toward his microphone. “The movie is called When We Meet Again.”

JL repeated the title. “When We Meet Again.”

He looked down at his cue card. “And once again, you wrote and directed it.”

“Yes.”

“But unlike your previous film, The Summer We Left Behind, which emotionally destroyed everyone who watched it…”

Woongki winced playfully. “I've been told.”

“…this one is a romantic comedy.”

Woongki nodded. “A very shameless romantic comedy.”

Jeongwoo laughed beside him. JL looked between them.

“Shameless?”

“I wanted to make something lighter this time.” Woongki settled back into his chair. “The story is about two people who were best friends in university. They were very close, but neither of them confessed because they were both convinced the other person only saw them as a friend.”

JL smiled. “So they both suffer in silence.”

“For about several years.”

Jeongwoo laughed. “That's not very light.”

“It gets better.” Woongki smiled. “Years later, they meet again completely by accident. Except neither of them has really moved on.”

JL nodded. “So it's about rekindling an old love?”

“Sort of.” Woongki glanced at Jeongwoo. “They don't actually know it was love the first time.”

JL caught the glance but said nothing.

Woongki continued. “They think they've both changed. They think they've moved on. But once they're around each other again, all those old habits come back.”

“Such as?”

“They remember each other's coffee orders.”

Jeongwoo smiled.

“They know exactly what food the other person hates.” Woongki added. “They still argue over the same stupid things and they still steal each other's food and,” Woongki said, “one of them keeps pretending they're not jealous.”

JL laughed. “Sounds like a disaster.”

“It is.” Woongki smiled. “But a funny one.”

JL turned toward Jeongwoo. “And you're playing the male lead.”

“Yes.”

“Alongside rising actress Han Seorin.”

The actress sitting beside Jeongwoo gave a polite bow toward the camera. “Hello.”

JL smiled at her. “Welcome.”

Seorin had already been receiving attention for several supporting roles, but this would be her first major leading role. “And Woongki personally recommended you for this role?”

Seorin nodded. “Yes.”

JL looked at Woongki. “Why her?”

“I'd seen her work before. She has a very natural way of making emotional scenes feel light.”

Seorin smiled. “That's a very nice way of saying I can make a fool of myself convincingly.”

Everyone laughed.

“But,” Woongki added, “she was exactly what I imagined for the character.”

JL nodded. “And what was it like working with Jeongwoo?”

Seorin glanced at him. “Very difficult.”

Jeongwoo's eyebrows lifted. “Already?”

“You're too good at making people laugh when they're supposed to be acting.”

JL laughed. “That sounds like a complaint.”

“It is.” She paused, then smiled. “But he's very easy to work with.”

Jeongwoo gave her a small nod. “Thank you.”

JL shuffled his cue cards. 

The conversation continued naturally, moving through the movie's production, their favorite scenes, and the challenge of filming a romantic comedy after such an emotionally heavy project. Eventually, JL arrived at a question he had asked them both before.

He looked up. “Let's go back to something I asked you during our first interview.”

Jeongwoo's expression changed almost imperceptibly. Woongki looked at JL with mild curiosity.

“Are either of you seeing someone?”

Seorin immediately laughed. “Oh, that's a dangerous question.”

JL grinned. “It's a classic question.”

Seorin shook her head. “I'm not seeing anyone.”

“Why not?”

“I have no time.” She laughed. “My career is my boyfriend right now.”

JL chuckled. “So you're completely focused on work?”

“For now.” Seorin nodded confidently. “I'm still young. I have plenty of time.” Then, almost casually, she pointed toward Jeongwoo. “Unlike some people.”

The studio erupted in laughter. Jeongwoo looked at her in disbelief. “Why am I involved?”

“You're sitting right there.”

“That doesn't mean anything.”

Seorin turned toward JL. “Ask him please.”

JL looked delighted. “Alright, Jeongwoo.” He leaned slightly forward. “Are you seeing someone?”

Jeongwoo was quiet for a moment then he smiled. “I'd say…”

He glanced sideways. Woongki was already trying not to smile. “…I'm not exactly alone.”

JL's eyebrows rose.

Seorin's mouth fell open dramatically. “Oh?”

Jeongwoo only smiled. “I have someone I care about.”

JL stared at him. “That's not exactly a denial.”

“I didn't say it was.”

Woongki lowered his head, quietly laughing.

JL looked between them.

“And does this person know you're talking about them right now?”

Jeongwoo's smile became softer. “I think they do.”

Woongki finally looked up, their eyes met for just a second and that was all it takes for everyone in the room notice.

The cameras finally stopped rolling. Seorin immediately glanced at the time on her phone and let out a small gasp. “I have to go.”

JL laughed. “Already?”

“I have another schedule.” She turned toward Jeongwoo and Woongki, giving them a small bow. “Thank you for today. And Director, I'll see you at the reading.”

Woongki nodded. “Don't be late.”

“I won't.” She pointed at Jeongwoo. “And don't let him make you laugh during serious scenes.”

Jeongwoo laughed. “I make you laugh?”

“You're the problem.”

With one final wave, Seorin disappeared through the studio doors, leaving behind the same three people who had remained after their first interview.

JL looked toward the empty doorway. “She's certainly busy.”

“She has a lot of commitments now,” Woongki said. “It's her first lead role.”

“And you gave her the role.”

“I recommended her.”

“Which means you're responsible if she becomes a huge star.”

Woongki smiled. “I'll accept that responsibility.”

JL gathered his cue cards before looking at Jeongwoo. “Although…”

Jeongwoo immediately knew from his expression that something was coming. “What?”

JL leaned back in his chair. “That answer you gave earlier.”

Jeongwoo sighed.

“Which one?”

“‘I'm not exactly alone.’” JL mimicked his voice with exaggerated seriousness. "I have someone I care about.” He shook his head. “Do you realize what tomorrow's headlines are going to look like?”

Jeongwoo laughed. “I didn't say anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

JL picked up one of his cue cards as if he's about to report again. “Actor Jeongwoo hints at mysterious relationship.” He picked up another. “Who is the lucky person?” then another. “Jeongwoo's new romance revealed?”

Woongki covered his mouth, laughing.

Jeongwoo pointed at JL. “You're enjoying this too much.”

“I'm a journalist.”

“You're also my friend's husband.”

“Both can be true.”

Jeongwoo shook his head.

JL suddenly turned toward Woongki. “But Director.” His expression changed completely. The professional interviewer disappeared and the fanboy JL returned. “There's still time.”

Woongki blinked. “Time for what?”

JL leaned forward as if forming a conspiring move, “To break up with Jeongwoo.”

Jeongwoo stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Woongki burst out laughing. JL pointed at Jeongwoo. “I've been waiting for years to say this.”

“JL.”

“You have options.”

“JL.”

“I've watched your movies. I know what kind of man you deserve.”

Jeongwoo crossed his arms. “And apparently I'm not it?”

JL turned to Woongki with complete sincerity. “You can still choose better.”

Woongki was laughing so hard he had to look away.

Jeongwoo shook his head. “I can't believe you're doing this in front of me.”

“I'll say it again when you're not here.”

Before Jeongwoo could answer, the studio door opened. A familiar voice came from behind them. “Are you bothering my husband again?”

JL's entire face lit up. “Hani!”

Han stood at the entrance, one hand tucked into the pocket of his coat, clearly having come straight from another schedule. 

The moment JL saw him, he stood. “Han!” He crossed the room without hesitation and immediately wrapped both arms around his husband. Han caught him easily, laughing as JL practically clung to him. “You waited long?”

“Too long.”

“I said I'd come get you.”

“I know.”

JL tightened his arms around him. “I missed you.”

Han smiled and pressed a kiss to his hair.

Jeongwoo watched them with a resigned expression. “You two are still like this?”

JL turned his head without letting go of Han. “Yes and do we have a problem with that?”

Han looked over at Jeongwoo. “You jealous?”

“Of what?”

Jeongwoo scoffed. “I have my own person.”

Han's eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

JL immediately pointed at Jeongwoo. “See? He's admitting it.”

Jeongwoo groaned. “Please leave me alone.”

Han laughed then his gaze shifted toward Woongki.

For a brief moment, there was something warm and knowing in his expression. “So you're the reason he's been smiling at his phone lately.”

Woongki's eyes widened.

“Han…” Jeongwoo gave his friend a warning look.

Han raised both hands. “I didn't say anything.”

“You just did.”

“I've known you long enough.”

JL looked delighted. “I knew it.”

Jeongwoo shook his head. “You're all ganging up on me now I see.”

Han glanced at Woongki again then, with a small smile, he said, “I'm glad I don't have to see your devastated side anymore.”

Woongki laughed softly. “You've seen it?”

“Enough.” Jeongwoo frowned.

“Why does everyone know things about me?”

“Because you're not subtle,” Han said.

JL nodded enthusiastically. “Never have been.”

Jeongwoo looked between the two of them. “I regret becoming friends with both of you.”

Han smiled. “Sure you do.”

JL finally pulled away from Han just enough to take his hand. “Come on.”

Han looked at Jeongwoo and Woongki. “Enjoy your evening.”

Jeongwoo nodded. “You too.”

JL waved as Han guided him toward the door.

Then JL stopped. He turned around. “Jeongwoo.”

“What?”

“Good luck with those headlines tomorrow.”

Jeongwoo sighed. “JL.”

“And Woongki?”

Woongki looked at him. “Don't break up with him please I'm tired of his miserable ass.”

Woongki laughed. “I'll think about it.”

Jeongwoo's mouth fell open. “Woongki!”

JL burst into laughter as Han pulled him out of the room. “Come on, love.”

“I still want to hear what happens!”

“You're making it worse.”

The door finally closed behind them. Silence returned.

Jeongwoo looked at Woongki. Woongki looked back. Then they both started laughing.

“They really haven't changed,” Woongki said.

“No.”

Jeongwoo stood and offered him his hand. “Coffee?”

Woongki looked at it. “Again?”

“There's a cafe nearby.”

A small smile appeared on Woongki's face. “Are you taking me on a date?”

Jeongwoo pretended to consider the question. “Would you like me to?”

Woongki slipped his hand into Jeongwoo's. “I think I would.”

They left the studio together.

The cafe was quieter than the one they had visited months ago. They ordered almost without discussing it. Woongki remembered what Jeongwoo liked. Jeongwoo remembered what Woongki preferred now. Some things had changed amd some hadn't. They sat across from each other for a while, talking about the interview, Seorin's schedule, the movie, Han and JL's ridiculous teasing.

Eventually, Woongki looked at Jeongwoo over his cup. “Do you regret answering like that?”

“Like what?”

“About having someone.”

Jeongwoo smiled. “No.”

He reached across the table. His fingers found Woongki's. “I think I'm tired of pretending you're someone I'm not allowed to love.”

Woongki's smile softened. “I'm still confused.”

“I know.”

“And I'm still scared.”

“I know.”

Woongki squeezed his hand. “But I'm here.”

Jeongwoo smiled. “So am I.”

Neither of them said anything else. They didn't need to. When they left the cafe, Woongki stopped beneath the warm light outside.

Jeongwoo turned toward him. “What?”

Woongki shook his head. “Nothing.”

Then he stepped closer. Jeongwoo understood. He leaned down at the same time Woongki tilted his face up, meeting him halfway. Their lips touched in a quiet, unhurried kiss. When they pulled apart, Woongki rested his forehead against Jeongwoo's. Jeongwoo smiled. And this time, it wasn't something they were afraid of. It was simply the next day they would choose each other beyond uncertainties.

[EPILOGUE] 

BLIND ITEM | ENTERTAINMENT INSIDER

A-LIST ACTOR AND ACCLAIMED DIRECTOR SPOTTED TOGETHER

A certain A-list actor and acclaimed director have sparked fresh dating rumors after appearing together for the promotion of an upcoming romantic comedy movie.

The two, who previously worked separately on projects that couldn't be more different in tone, were notably comfortable with each other during a recent interview. When asked whether he was seeing someone, the actor reportedly stopped short of giving a direct answer, instead admitting that he was “not exactly alone.”

Sources say the two were later spotted leaving the same studio together before heading to a nearby cafe

Neither side has commented on the dating rumors.

Interestingly, fans have already begun connecting the dots between the actor's recent comments about first love and the director's previous film.

One insider reportedly offered only this statement: “Maybe some stories don't end when the credits roll.”

And perhaps this one is finally getting its second chapter that only they both know when the next scene is rolling.