Sinju seemed to have no more desire to talk — he turned away just like that. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pushed into the rain, leaving Moon Heesung behind. There was shooting again tomorrow. If he got soaked like that, completely unguarded, and caught a cold, it would be a serious problem. Unable to stop him any further, Moon Heesung instead borrowed an umbrella from the front desk and hurried after Sinju.
Moon Heesung caught up and held the umbrella over Sinju without a word, walking quietly alongside him. Sinju, with no apparent desire to keep arguing, walked on treating him as if he were invisible.
The lodging reserved for the leads, supporting leads, and higher-ranking film staff was a place with a view that was nothing short of perfect. It was the only hotel in the area they’d come to for the location shoot, so naturally its facilities didn’t compare to a five-star in central Seoul — but the sight of the wide-open sea stretching out before it was more spectacular than any five-star could offer.
Sinju stepped across the sandy ground, difficult to walk on, and drew closer to the sea. The weather had turned dark, and the clear water looked black as pitch. Sinju stared at that sight for a long time without moving. Throughout, Moon Heesung stayed beside him, holding the umbrella over him. He himself was getting completely soaked, but showed no sign of caring in the least. His only thought was wondering why Sinju was looking at that dark, wet sea with those eyes.
“…I fired my manager because I couldn’t stand looking at his face.”
“……”
“So why is he still in front of me even after being fired.”
Unable to ignore Moon Heesung entirely to the end, Sinju kept his gaze forward and spoke in a tone like a sigh. Then he scrunched his brow with irritation and turned his head. Moon Heesung had his cap pulled low just the same, but he was soaked as if he’d fallen into the sea. Unable to keep ignoring that sight either, Sinju went on again, as if he were the one being wronged.
“What is it you want from me.”
Everything in Sinju’s daily life had come unraveled since Moon Heesung appeared. Not only had he shown up out of nowhere — he immediately started hovering around calling himself a manager, and on top of that, what happened at the ad shoot, and what happened today… The way he carried himself, as if he wouldn’t spare his own body for Sinju’s sake, made Sinju feel like he was going to go insane from the confusion. In the same vein, the sight of Moon Heesung standing his ground like a post to keep every drop of rain off Sinju — while he himself looked like a drenched rat — unsettled Sinju enough to make him want to hate the man.
“You show up out of nowhere — what is it you’re trying to do with me.”
The corners of Sinju’s eyes, visible beneath his cap, twisted in pain. Moon Heesung, who had been silent, finally opened his mouth.
“…A promise.”
“……”
“I’m here to keep it.”
He said it slowly, quietly. The utterly unruffled way he brought it out made Sinju’s expression contort into something grotesque.
“Ha ha…… Ha…!”
Sinju let out a sharp, hollow laugh — impossible to tell if he was amused or furious. It was unmistakably a sound of mockery.
“Listen to him talk about promises.”
“……”
“Just use our history as an excuse and squeeze money out of me. Threaten to expose the squalid parts of my past and extort me, or blackmail me — do whatever you want.”
“……”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
Sinju threw the words out in a tone that didn’t believe a single syllable. Moon Heesung didn’t so much as twitch at the reaction, keeping his mouth shut. As if calmly waiting for the agitation to pass. At that quiet stillness, Sinju dropped the laughter and crumpled his face with something mournful, forcing down the scorching emotion rising all the way to his throat as he continued.
“…I forgot about promises a long time ago.”
“……”
“So stop wasting your time.”
Sinju had only recently started to slowly try to forget. After waiting so long, no matter how long, and he never came. Not when Sinju was young, not even now — when he’d become an actor and sold his face just so that person might see it. But he never came. He never came, and it was precisely when Sinju was about to give everything up that he showed up, shamelessly. Talking about promises. Scraping at Sinju from the inside.
“What were you thinking about?”
Moon Heesung threw out an abrupt question even in the face of Sinju’s rebuff. He looked at the same sea Sinju had been staring at and added —
“Looking at that.”
He’d been curious the entire time. Standing beside him for over ten minutes. Watching those utterly hollow eyes.
“…Why does that matter to you.”
“……”
It looked like that time.
That day, when he was a child.
Take me with you too.
I’ll do anything.
Those starved eyes that had begged to be saved. Even though Sinju now had everything, more dazzling than anyone — even though he’d grown up this well. He was still making that face. Still falling apart like that.
Having debuted before adulthood, Sinju had risen quickly on the strength of his exceptional looks, landing lead roles in no time. Even as he kept growing and grasped the kind of glamour others could only envy, he had been gradually coming undone. It began with news that a panic disorder had taken him down on set.
Then came the endless string of scandals and controversies that followed. The company had managed to smooth them over quickly, but he’d once sent the world into an uproar over allegations of misconduct, and stories poured out about his deteriorating health putting him in the hospital again and again.
Moon Heesung, truthfully, had never intended to step in front of him. But he couldn’t just stand by and watch. Watching someone who could have had the whole world crumbling and breaking like that.
He’d managed to hold onto his position as a top star somehow, but what was bound to blow eventually always did. Among the inmates he’d encountered in prison, several were top-level drug brokers, and they would casually name their clients to assert their authority among the others. Among the actors whose names consistently came up between them — Sinju’s name was there. He had tried to forget it for a long time. But he had also been watching for a long time. Even if only to repay that debt, Moon Heesung wanted to pull Sinju back up.
To keep shining. But like a human being. Someone who could be grateful to those who deserved gratitude, and sorry to those who deserved an apology. Someone who understood decency and obligation — warmth and consideration. Because then he’d hurt less as he went through life. Because then he’d be able to live like a person. Because then he wouldn’t be lonely.
“There’s no other meaning behind it.”
“……”
“I just came to pay a debt.”
Moon Heesung began, still looking at the vast sea Sinju had been watching. As the sound of rain was swallowed into the sound of waves, Sinju held his breath at that voice — not a trace of a lie in it. Moon Heesung standing in the rain looked quieter than that black sea.
***
A debt.
A debt, he says….
Sinju turned it over in his mind the entire walk back. It was difficult — he couldn’t quite pin down what debt Moon Heesung meant. But the answer itself was certain. That he too had been carrying the debt of that time inside him. That he’d come to find Sinju in the end, even if late.
That didn’t mean Sinju had any intention of forgiving him at once, and the sight of him was still as grating as ever — but it was an answer that could quiet the confusion, even just a little. Because Sinju had been wondering what Moon Heesung’s purpose was, showing up out of nowhere and shaking everything loose. So confused, in fact, that he’d hyperventilated and passed out.
The whole way back, Moon Heesung never let go of the umbrella. Watching him stubbornly taking the rain all by himself, something in the area around Sinju’s heart grew heavy, and he felt a strange, congested tightness inside. Truthfully, it had been that way from the moment Moon Heesung held the umbrella over him. Even though he hadn’t shown it on the outside.
In the end, unable to keep watching him get more and more soaked, Sinju snatched the umbrella away roughly. Moon Heesung reached out as if to take it back, but Sinju sharply shook him off and held it himself, sharing it between them.
It’s because I can’t stand watching him pretend to be pathetic like this. Annoying, the way he lingers beside me acting sorry after all this time. He must think he’ll earn some sympathy that way — not a chance. Sinju plastered together every self-justification he could find and tilted the umbrella further toward Moon Heesung’s side. Of course, it was something he did without realizing it.
They walked back like that, took the elevator together, and stepped off on the same floor. Sinju glanced at Moon Heesung, who showed every sign of intending to follow him all the way to his door, and tossed out —
“Just how far are you planning to follow me?”
Even after that, with Moon Heesung still trailing behind umbrella in hand, Sinju let out a sigh like someone who’d admitted defeat. Having him stuck to his side like some kind of guardian was more than a little maddening.
“Just until I see you inside.”
Moon Heesung answered with his usual indifference.
“Does he think he’s actually my guardian or something… honestly.”
Sinju muttered to himself as he brought his key card up to the door. Just then, a phone vibrating broke through the quiet stillness. The phone belonged to Moon Heesung. Without meaning to, Sinju’s eyes flicked over to him.
“Hello.”
Moon Heesung answered as even-keeled as ever. Sinju was right there and could have just tapped his key and gone in — instead he dawdled and dragged his feet for no particular reason.
“You mean come to your room now?”
Sinju had already caught a glimpse of the name on the screen when Moon Heesung pulled out his phone, so he pieced together the situation from the replies alone.
“Understood. I’ll be right there.”
Where is he going?
Sinju’s brow snapped together as he stared at Moon Heesung.
“…What is it?”
And before he knew it, the question slipped out. Moon Heesung ended the call and looked back at him as if wondering what he meant.
“……Is it Park Ian?”
“Yeah.”
“Why, at this hour?”
Eleven at night. It wasn’t even that late an hour for looking after an assigned actor.
