Chapter 7: Fifteen Minutes of Rock, Paper, Scissors

“Hm, then… let’s decide fairly.

Not by talking.”

With those words, Jitae tilted his chin and gestured outside.

Wooju’s gaze naturally followed in that direction.

“Ah… yes.

Sure.”

Only then did Wooju fully grasp the situation.

They were in the middle of filming a variety show, and more importantly, the two of them were currently in a setting where they were supposed to be ‘meeting each other for the first time.’

“Then how do we decide?”

“How about rock, paper, scissors?”

“What is this, kindergarten…….”

At Jitae’s suggestion, Wooju let out a short, exasperated sound and scrunched up his face.

At that moment, the corner of Jitae’s lips, which had been maintaining a completely soulless smile, twitched slightly.

“It’s the simplest and easiest way.

Are you not going to do it?”

“No, I mean… we should.”

Wooju barely managed to pull back the reason that was about to storm out.

It had taken a full fifteen minutes.

That was how long it took just to decide who would use which room.

Two men in their late twenties bickering childishly for nearly fifteen minutes, only to end up settling it with rock, paper, scissors.

Wooju naturally extended his hand forward.

Jitae stared fixedly at the hand, rough and dotted with blisters here and there.

“Aren’t you doing it?”

“…Ah, yes.”

Only then did Jitae extend his hand as well.

Wooju swallowed hard.

Wasn’t there a saying like that.

That even rock, paper, scissors must be won when it comes to a Korea–Japan match.

The situation was different, but as a fiercely competitive athlete, Kang Wooju did not want to lose even this simple game.

Especially when the opponent was who it was.

He would absolutely defeat Won Jitae.

It was almost like an instinct engraved into Kang Wooju’s DNA.

“Then we’ll have the athlete use the first-floor room and the actor use the second-floor room.

Please unpack your luggage first.

We’ll also need to conduct personal interviews intermittently, so we’ll guide you on that later.

Ah, and there’s a separate staff accommodation next door.

If you have any questions or need to discuss anything related to filming, feel free to come by.”

“Yes.”

After delivering all the information, the writer stepped back outside, and Wooju let out a deep sigh.

He had lost.

He had lost the rock, paper, scissors match against Won Jitae.

The winner, naturally, chose the second-floor room, and Wooju ended up using the remaining first-floor room, which was bright and colorful.

The guy who had gone on and on about not wanting to get bitten by bugs clearly just didn’t want to use a pretty room.

Once the writer left, Jitae casually said, “Let’s unpack first,” and headed straight upstairs.

Wooju also went into his room, savoring the bitterness of defeat.

Wooju spread his large suitcase across the floor and began unpacking his belongings one by one.

Then, suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

Was this really the time to be calmly organizing luggage like this.

Wasn’t there something much more important he should be thinking about.

“So that means I have to live with Won Jitae for a whole month?”

When was the last time he had seen Won Jitae.

The clearest memory was their final match in high school, when they had faced each other on the court.

After that, they hadn’t contacted each other, nor had they ever crossed paths again, for years.

And now he was filming a variety show with that guy.

Not a one-time thing, but being stuck together for an entire month.

“Haah…….”

Wooju knew instinctively.

This was going to be the longest month of his life.

While Wooju was letting out one worried sigh after another, Jitae, in contrast, was lying on the bed in his room, checking a text message he had just received.

[Jitae, since this shoot was difficult to secure at your request, you need to work hard.]

He replied with a vague “Got it” to the message from his agency’s CEO.

He roughly emptied the suitcase he had brought upstairs, taking out only the things he needed immediately and placing them carelessly around the room.

Pushing the still half-full suitcase off to the side, Jitae lay down on the bed and rolled around.

He pressed his tired face into his hands.

After pulling an all-nighter filming until yesterday, exhaustion was written all over him.

At the same time, Kang Wooju’s face from earlier surfaced in his mind.

Hair that seemed slightly shorter than it had been in high school, and features that hadn’t changed at all.

“Ah, I lost.

So annoying.”

The image of Kang Wooju, pouting slightly and scrunching up his face after losing at rock, paper, scissors, flickered through his mind like an afterimage.

“……”

It was a face Jitae had been seeing for years in the past.

The corners of his lips slowly began to lift.

Of course, he didn’t forget to cover his mouth with his hand so the camera wouldn’t catch it.

“Ah, this is insane.

You really haven’t changed at all, Kang Wooju.”

Jitae skillfully covered the microphone with his hand and muttered softly, just loud enough for himself to hear.

His earlobes were flushed red, like perfectly ripened persimmons.

As he reminded himself of the fact that he was now sharing the same space with his first love after seven years, Jitae clenched his fist tightly.

Wooju ended up spending a full forty minutes unpacking his luggage.

For him, this wasn’t simply the act of putting things away.

He kept thinking about where each item should go, whether it fit aesthetically, rearranging things over and over without realizing how much time had passed.

After finally finding a layout he was satisfied with, Wooju cautiously stepped outside.

Noise drifted in from the living room.

When he peeked out, Won Jitae was sitting on the sofa, watching TV.

“Are you done unpacking?”

“Yes.”

Jitae nodded casually.

“That was fast.”

“Aren’t you just really slow, Wooju.

Who takes nearly an hour to unpack.

You must be pretty meticulous.”

Jitae stood up from the sofa with a slight smile.

Did he think smiling while saying things like that made it okay.

Other people might fall for that harmless smile, but Wooju knew better.

He could clearly sense the mockery melting beneath it.

Still, Wooju barely managed to swallow the words lodged in his throat, maintaining his composure like a civilized adult.

Right.

This was work.

They were filming, and this was an important job.

He reminded himself of that over and over.

“What do you want to eat?”

As Wooju was repeating that mantra to himself, Jitae asked while heading toward the kitchen.

“What do we have?”

He was getting better at using polite speech with Won Jitae compared to before.

His past self probably wouldn’t have even imagined a situation where he’d be speaking formally to him.

“I don’t really know either.

This is my first time seeing it.”

So he’d really just been watching TV for forty minutes.

Wooju walked over behind Jitae as he opened the refrigerator.

“…Oh.”

A low exclamation escaped Jitae.

What was it.

Did they have incredible ingredients inside.

With hopeful expectations, Wooju leaned in as well, only for his expression to slowly stiffen.

“Looks like we need to go grocery shopping.”

Jitae turned his head and spoke while looking at Wooju’s frozen face.

And it made sense.

Aside from five bottles of water, the refrigerator was completely empty.

“Ah…….”

Only then did Wooju fully understand.

He had assumed that since they brought in a brand-new refrigerator, the production team would have stocked it as well.

That had been an incredibly naive and careless assumption.

Wooju picked up the walkie-talkie resting on one side of the kitchen table.

It was connected to the staff accommodation and had been installed earlier by the writer in case they had any questions about living there.

“PD-nim.”

— Yes.

Along with a crackling sound, PD Kwon’s calm, low voice came through the device.

Wooju pressed the button again.

“There’s nothing in the fridge…

Do we need to fill it ourselves?”

— Yes.

If you look under the walkie-talkie unit, there’s a corporate card.

Use that for groceries or anything you need for living here.

The transmission cut off abruptly.

Won Jitae, who had come up beside him, lifted the charger beneath the walkie-talkie slightly, found a card, and waved it toward Wooju.

“I expected it, but it’s still shocking when you experience it firsthand.

Let’s go.”

Jitae picked up the hooded zip-up jacket he had left on the sofa.

“Go… where?”

“Where else.

The mart.

Are you planning to starve?”

Starve.

That was a word that could never exist in Kang Wooju’s dictionary.

Which meant that empty refrigerator couldn’t be left alone.

Absolutely not.

As Wooju nodded and followed behind him, Jitae suddenly spun around.

Caught off guard, Wooju reflexively jerked his body back.

“What.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

Jitae pointed at Wooju’s clothes.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and a loose white short-sleeved T-shirt.

In contrast, Jitae had a fairly thick hoodie on.

“It’s May.

What’s cold about it.”

“It’ll get chilly once the sun goes down.”

It was already past five in the afternoon.

Even in May, the air could turn cool after sunset, but Wooju didn’t think it mattered.

He ran hot to begin with.

If anything, Won Jitae wearing such thick outerwear looked stranger, though that too was oddly understandable.

“It’s not like I get cold easily like you…….”

The thought suddenly surfaced.

That Won Jitae was sensitive to the cold.

That his hands and feet often got cold.

Even during matches, he had always carried a tracksuit jacket around.

Whether he heard Wooju’s muttering or not, Jitae flinched ever so slightly.