After taking a shower, Minwoo stepped out of his room, his damp hair softly brushing against his forehead. He made his way down the stairs, his steps slow and quiet. At the dining table, Joon was already setting out the food.
Joon looked up with a warm smile.
Joon: "You're awake."
Minwoo blinked and gave a small nod.
Joon: "Come sit, let's eat. I ordered your favorite food."
Minwoo pulled out a chair and sat down quietly. After a brief pause, he asked in a soft voice,
Minwoo: "When… did you come back?"
Joon: "I just got back recently."
Minwoo looked down at his plate and hesitated. Then, barely audible, he whispered,
Minwoo: "When did he leave?"
Joon glanced at him, but instead of answering directly, he said with a gentle tone,
Joon: "Minwoo, what are you thinking? The food's getting cold. Let's eat."
Minwoo looked at the food, then gave a faint nod.
Minwoo: "Yeah…"
They both began eating in silence for a moment, until Minwoo quietly asked,
Minwoo: "You said you had something to talk about… something good?"
Joon's face brightened as he put his chopsticks down.
Joon: "Minwoo, the K-Entertainment Show sent you an invitation. They're really excited to have you on. They want to interview you."
Minwoo sighed deeply.
Joon: "Also, your social media accounts just hit millions of followers again. You should be active there—your fans want to hear from you."
Still staring down at his food, Minwoo murmured,
Minwoo: "I don't think I have real fans… They're just excited because I worked with the famous superstar Ryu Jihan. That's all. If Ryu Jihan dumps me, they'll leave me again. I think I'm just… tired of this. Or maybe… maybe this is the reality."
Joon's voice was calm, but firm.
Joon: "No, Minwoo. Some of your fans never left. They're still by your side. It's not like how you think."
After dinner, Joon picked up the empty plates and glanced at Minwoo.
Joon: "Your schedule is set for next week. The shooting starts soon, so you'll need to start practicing your lines."
Minwoo gave a small nod.
Minwoo: "Okay."
He stood from the table and stretched lightly.
Minwoo: "Then I'll go to my room. I need to read through the script."
As Minwoo turned to go, Joon hesitated for a moment, then spoke up.
Joon: "Minwoo… I heard from Mr. Donghae that this series has several NC scenes. Are you ready to handle that?"
Minwoo paused, his back to Joon, then quietly replied,
Minwoo: "I don't know."
Joon: "Don't worry. I believe in you. You can do it."
Minwoo didn't say anything more. He just nodded once and made his way up the stairs. Once inside his room, he closed the door behind him, walked over to the desk, and picked up his phone. He scrolled through his social media notifications—fans had been waiting for him, commenting with love and excitement, asking when he'd post again.
He sighed and placed the phone back on the desk, then sat down on his soft, fluffy couch. He grabbed the script and opened it, trying to concentrate.
But his mind drifted—again—to Jihan.
Minwoo shook his head, frustrated.
Minwoo: "Focus, Minwoo… focus on work."
But his gaze wandered to the clothes hanging near the corner of his room. A sudden thought struck him, and he reached for his laptop. Typing quickly, he searched for the La Lueur brand.
What he saw left him frozen.
The brand owner was Ryu Hana—Ryu Jihan's mother.
Minwoo (whispering): "Why… why did Jihan want me to wear clothes from his mom's brand?"
He scrolled further and saw the brand ambassador's face fill the screen.
Ryu Jihan.
In the cover photo, Jihan looked stunning—handsome, composed, and charismatic.
Minwoo stared for a few seconds too long before quickly shaking his head.
Minwoo: "Why am I interested in him? Get a hold of yourself."
He muttered to himself,
Minwoo: "Don't be impressed by him, Minwoo. Don't let his charm fool you. He's just… a cold-eyed man who always stares at me and scares me."
But even as he said that, the memory of Jihan's lips on his, and the warmth of his embrace, lingered stubbornly in his mind.
Minwoo closed the laptop with a frustrated sigh.
Minwoo (muttering): "He just wants to show off… make people see me wearing his mom's brand. That's all."
He grabbed the script again and tried to focus on the lines, reading them aloud in a low voice. But his mind still struggled to stay on track.
—
Meanwhile, in his high-rise office, Jihan sat behind his desk, analyzing a set of documents. The dim office lights reflected against the large glass windows behind him, casting shadows across the room. Suddenly, his phone rang.
He picked it up, glanced at the caller ID, and answered.
Jihan: "Hello?"
A warm, cheerful voice replied on the other end.
Hana: "How are you, my son? You've been so busy—you didn't even call your mama once!"
Jihan stood and walked toward the window. The city sparkled beneath him, its glowing lights and bustling streets looking like a miniature world from up high.
Jihan: "I'm sorry, Mom. The new series has been keeping me busy. There's a lot of work to handle."
Hana (gently): "It's okay, son. I know the burden you carry. But I saw the photos from the series shoot—you look so handsome in the school uniform! And that cute boy… he looks even cuter standing next to you."
She giggled softly, her tone playful and proud.
Hana: "Is he the boy you mentioned before?"
Jihan didn't blink as he stared out at the night view.
Jihan: "Yes. He's the coffee boy."
Hana (smiling through her voice): "Oh, my son… you have great taste. He's so cute and innocent."
Jihan's expression softened slightly as he continued gazing out at the city, his voice low and sincere.
Jihan: "Yes… he's cute. And beautiful."
Hana (gently): "Have you told him?"
Jihan remained silent for a moment, his gaze still lost in the night view.
Jihan: "He doesn't remember me, Mom."
Hana (reassuring): "It's okay… one day, he will recognize you."
There was a pause before she added,
Hana: "By the way, did he like the designs I sent you?"
Jihan: "He looked beautiful in those clothes."
Hana (joyfully): "Ah, my dear son! I made some more beautiful designs just for him again. I'll send them to you soon."
Jihan gave a soft nod.
Jihan: "Okay."
Hana: "Alright, son. I'll let you go now so you can finish your work. I'm going to call your little brother—he hasn't answered me lately."
Jihan (frowning): "Did he do something again?"
Hana (sighing): "I don't know yet. I'll ask your father about it."
Jihan: "Okay."
Hana (affectionately): "Take care, my baby. Love you."
Jihan: "Love you, Mom."
The call ended. Jihan remained by the window, the city lights still glittering beneath the dark sky. He stood in silence for a moment, a rare softness appearing in his expression.
He recalled the image of Minwoo curled up in his bed, asleep—lips slightly parted from exhaustion, their kiss left incomplete.
A quiet chuckle slipped from Jihan's lips.
Jihan (to himself): "He's cute… and his habits are even cuter. How does someone fall asleep in the middle of a kiss?"
His lips curled into a small smile, eyes filled with something unspoken.
Minwoo lay on his bed, his phone resting on his chest as the soft glow of the screen lit up his face in the dim room. Social media was buzzing — completely flooded with photos from the recent series photoshoot. His name and Jihan's were everywhere, trending across platforms.
His eyes moved lazily across the comments:
> "We can't wait for them!"
"I think I'm going to die from happiness, they look too cute together!"
"Han Minwoo totally deserves Ryu Jihan — the perfect man!"
"I'm in love with this couple. #MinJih forever."
Minwoo let out a soft breath and whispered to himself,
Minwoo: "A couple…? We look like a couple?"
He stared at the screen for a second longer, then dropped his phone on the table beside him with a thud.
Minwoo (grumbling): "Who would want to be a couple with that cold-eyed man anyway…"
He rolled over onto his side and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
Minwoo (quietly): "Let's sleep, Minwoo. You need to relax."
He shut his eyes, trying to push away Jihan's face from his thoughts — the piercing stare, the warm lips, the way he'd held him earlier.
He didn't know it yet…
But no matter how hard he tried to deny it —
Ryu Jihan was already written into his fate. His destiny.
And fate always finds a way back.