Chapter 10: Waiting for His Call

Han-geon had been so excited last night that he barely slept.

Even so, he got up at his usual time and went about his morning routine as always.

He went for a jog, did some light weight training, and after finishing a meal of salad, chicken breast, and sweet potatoes, he headed out to the site he was scheduled to work at today.

He’d been dispatched to a large-scale event attended by many international officials, filling in for a team member who had suddenly fallen ill—not a concert or performance venue this time.

At the venue, Han-geon was assigned to control the entrance and check IDs.

The event began at 1 p.m. and didn’t wrap up until 6.

With a tired but satisfied expression, Han-geon stretched and immediately reached into his pocket for his phone.

Maybe because he was waiting for a certain message, he found himself grinning a little as he walked briskly toward the subway station.

“Let’s see… did I get anything?”

With a fluttery heart, he checked his phone.

But there was still no message from Eun-gyeol.

He’d definitely said he would call today… maybe he was really busy.

Forcing down the rising disappointment, he opened YouTube.

Maybe he’d rewatch the video uploaded a few days ago.

He’d already watched it dozens of times, but somehow it always felt new.

With a pounding heart, he tapped the familiar thumbnail, and Eun-gyeol’s flawlessly fair face appeared instantly.

It was an interview he’d done with a magazine recently.

—Thank you for the compliment.

I’ve never taken formal vocal lessons.

I’ve just practiced steadily as a hobby for a long time.

It seemed to be a question related to the song he’d performed at the Bittersweet concert a few days earlier.

Smiling contentedly, Han-geon stared at the face of his friend—sitting calmly with the mic in hand, pushing his hair back so effortlessly.

How could someone be so handsome and have such a good voice?

All the way home on the subway, Han-geon kept replaying Eun-gyeol’s videos and leaving comments.

It had become a nightly ritual—ending the day with dedicated fangirling, or rather, fanboying—and he continued it even as he got off at his stop and walked home.

A faint, gentle breeze brushed past him, cooling his face tired from the summer heat.

All in all, it was a peaceful, pleasantly warm evening.

Just then, his phone started buzzing.

The moment Han-geon saw the name on the screen, his face lit up instantly.

With slightly trembling fingers, he pressed the call button.

“Hi, Han-geon.”

The sound of his voice melted something in Han-geon’s chest.

What were the odds of watching your favorite person on your phone and receiving a call from that very same person at the same time? His heart rippled like someone had tossed a stone into still water.

But not wanting to let his excitement show, Han-geon deliberately answered more curtly than usual.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home after work.”

“Got it.”

Even in the muggy, suffocating heat, Eun-gyeol’s voice felt like a soft spring breeze—languid, pleasant, and soothing.

Han-geon closed his eyes slowly.

“I talked to the team manager today.

He was happy about it.

He said he’d tell the director right away.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm.

The director wants to have a meeting tomorrow.

How about it?”

“Works for me.”

At Han-geon’s honest, straightforward reply, Eun-gyeol let out a satisfied little laugh.

“Good.

Then I’ll see you tomorrow.

I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

“Yeah… good night.”

Suppressing the pounding in his chest, Han-geon managed to say goodbye.

Eun-gyeol responded in his usual gentle voice.

“Good night, Han-geon.”

With those final words, the call ended.

Click.

Han-geon was always the type to keep the phone pressed to his ear until he heard that sound.

The harsh little cutoff that snatched away Eun-gyeol’s languid voice—it was sweet, yet sometimes cruel.

But today, even that sound felt good.

He’d get to see Eun-gyeol’s face again tomorrow.
And not through some video, but in person—at Eun-gyeol’s agency, no less.

He had to do well.

He would do well.

His steps toward home naturally grew quicker.

He wanted to hurry back, wash up, and go to bed early.

Tomorrow morning, he should wake up early and even stop by the barbershop.

He’d need to talk to his company properly and submit an official resignation, too.

Thinking of all the things he needed to do, Han-geon couldn’t contain his excitement and grinned to himself.

His steps, growing faster and lighter, soon turned into a gentle run.

The warm, sweet heaviness of the summer night clung to him, but the smile on his lips never faded.

***

He still had some time before the scheduled meeting.

He reached up to wipe the sweat forming on his forehead with his sleeve, as usual—then hesitated.

Instead, he took out a handkerchief, something he rarely bothered carrying, and dabbed his forehead.

His necktie felt like it was strangling him, and he wanted to loosen it, but he held back.

Since he had chosen a special suit—one he rarely wore and cared for more than the others—he felt strangely tenser than usual.

Han-geon’s steps finally stopped in front of a massive building.

The structure was sharply angled overall, and at its center was a huge window shaped like the letter T.

The gray-toned exterior gave off a refined, serene impression.

On the front, the words TY Entertainment were written.

It wasn’t Han-geon’s first time stepping into TY.

Not long after Eun-gyeol became an actor under the company, Han-geon had come by once or twice—half out of curiosity, half to pick him up.

He also came here fairly often for work.

Besides event security requests, TY had hired Han-geon’s security firm several times to protect actors who didn’t have dedicated bodyguards.

Even so, today the building felt strangely unfamiliar.

Maybe it was because he was coming in a completely different capacity than before.

He could feel his body stiffen with tension.

Han-geon took a deep breath and repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists.

Technically, he was here because Eun-gyeol had asked him, and Eun-gyeol had even said that although they were calling it an interview, his position was basically already set, so he should just come prepared to sign the contract.
But it was still the first official meeting.

He couldn’t help being nervous.

“Whew… I can do this.”

“What are you doing?”

“…Holy—!”

Muttering under his breath, Han-geon stiffened when a gentle hand suddenly touched his shoulder.

He had assumed Eun-gyeol would be coming from home since they agreed to meet in front of the building—he hadn’t expected him to walk out from inside.

Feeling embarrassed, Han-geon scratched the back of his head.

As soon as their eyes met, Eun-gyeol’s eyes curved into a smile.

His gaze naturally swept over Han-geon from head to toe.

“What’s this? You look good today.”

“Really? …I did put in some effort.”

“Yeah.

You’re better looking than most of the celebrities here.”

“…Hey, you don’t have to go that far….”

Honestly, he didn’t know how someone could say those kinds of jokes without a single change in expression.

Heat surged up from the base of Han-geon’s neck in an instant, and to hide it he forced an awkward smile—but Eun-gyeol’s steady, intertwined gaze didn’t budge.

“I’m serious.

You’re way better than most of the guys here.”

Blinking his long lashes, Eun-gyeol said it without even smiling.

The calm certainty in his eyes was too much, so Han-geon deliberately put on a loud, carefree act and rested a hand on Eun-gyeol’s shoulder.

“…Let’s go in.”

“We don’t have to rush.

There’s still time left.

Want to look around first?”

“I should greet the CEO first.”

Noticing how tense he was, Eun-gyeol squeezed Han-geon’s shoulder and let out a short laugh.

“Don’t be nervous.

The outcome’s already decided anyway.”

“Who’s nervous?”

“Then go ahead.

Everyone’s been waiting for you for a while now.”

He’s the one who seemed more tense earlier—Han-geon thought to himself, watching Eun-gyeol speak so casually.

Cold sweat pooled in his palms as he clenched and opened his fist again.

Once they stepped through the main entrance, the guards immediately dipped their heads toward Eun-gyeol.

It was a quiet weekday morning, yet all of them looked extremely alert.

Understandable, considering the location.

Han-geon scanned the four guards out of habit, then bowed politely in return.

“What’s your relationship with the accompanying person?”

“He’s my manager.”

At Eun-gyeol’s brief answer, the guards immediately opened the speed gate.

Hearing that his employee ID would be issued soon and that he’d just have to bear with the inconvenience until then, Han-geon simply replied, “Yeah,” short and simple.

It wasn’t like anything felt inconvenient anyway—not when he was walking in with Eun-gyeol beside him.

In the elevator, Eun-gyeol pressed the button for the 12th floor.

“The CEO’s office is here.

The chief manager’s office is on the same floor.”

“Mm.”

“My room is one floor below.”

“Okay…”

Han-geon nodded seriously, committing the information to memory at once.

He even pulled out his phone to jot it down, but Eun-gyeol let out a soft laugh.

“Relax for now.

The chief manager will give you the full handover later anyway.”

With a soft ding, the elevator came to a stop.

The doors opened to a long, straight hallway.

The lighting was excellent—probably because, from the outside, the building had that T-shaped window, and being the top floor, this whole area must have been open.

Letting that random thought drift through his mind, Han-geon followed Eun-gyeol down the hallway.

Knock, knock—Eun-gyeol rapped lightly on the door, then opened it before any reply could come from inside.

“Oh!

Look who it is—Eun-gyeol’s friend!

Come on in!”

A warm, booming voice greeted them.

The man who sprang to his feet in enthusiastic welcome had a friendly, bold look about him, appearing to be in his late thirties.

‘Ah, this must be the chief manager’, Han-geon thought instinctively, and bowed politely in greeting.