Chapter 22: A Cigarette’s Length of Peace

“Ah…”

A lifeless voice left his lips.

How was he supposed to explain what had just happened?

At a loss for words, he briefly stuck out his tongue to wet his lips.

He subtly avoided the gaze that stuck to his mouth as he licked them, and Han-geon stammered out,

“Uh… I was just… talking with the chief for a bit earlier.”

“Really?

The chief went back inside just now…”

The smile on Junseong’s face briefly shifted with curiosity, but it didn’t last.

Taking a cigarette pack from the inside of his jacket, he asked casually,

“Do you smoke?”

“Ah, no.”

“That’s a shame.”

Junseong smiled brightly.

Since he had called Eun-gyeol “sunbae,” he was likely younger than Han-geon.

When he smiled, he looked even younger than when expressionless.

Holding the cigarette between his lips, he lit it with a sharp click and inhaled deeply.

“Could you… stay with me just until I finish this cigarette?

If that’s okay?”

His voice, muffled slightly by the cigarette, sounded a little clumsy.

Han-geon really wasn’t in the mood for company right now, but he couldn’t coldly turn him away when he asked so earnestly.

He nodded and stood quietly next to Junseong as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Manager-nim, how old are you?

I know it’s rude to ask but… I’m curious.”

He grinned again.

A refreshing smile.

This time, Han-geon found him somewhat curious.

Actors usually didn’t treat some random manager this nicely or show this much interest—especially someone who wasn’t even their own manager.

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“Oh, same age as Eun-gyeol sunbae.

I’m twenty-six.

You’re hyung, then.”

“Ah, yes.”

Junseong spoke freely and casually, cheerful and good-natured.

Honestly, how good-natured did someone have to be to get along this well with some other actor’s manager?

Especially after Eun-gyeol had embarrassed him earlier.

“How long have you been working as a manager?

I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Ah, actually… today’s my first day.”

Han-geon answered sheepishly.

“Oh really?

Did you work in this field before?”

“No.

This is my first time doing manager work.”

“Oh, then what made you come here?

To see celebrities?”

Junseong playfully scrunched his nose as he joked.

After a moment of hesitation, Han-geon answered honestly.

“Ah, well… actually, I’m friends with Eun-gyeol.

I was originally a bodyguard.

By coincidence, both the bodyguard and manager positions opened at the same time, so I became both—bodyguard and manager.”

“No way?

Doing both must be tiring…”

“I’ll try to manage, at least for now.”

“Wow… but that’s impressive.

A bodyguard…”

With fascinated eyes, he looked Han-geon up and down and smiled again.

“You really do give off more of a bodyguard vibe.

More than a manager.”

“Ah… really.”

“Yeah.

Wow.

A bodyguard—really suits you.”

He said it again and again.

Pure admiration, with no hidden meaning.

This was a common reaction among ordinary people when they learned his job.

But actors?

They saw bodyguards all the time.

Looking at him like this with open admiration felt a bit burdensome.

And then—in front of him, a phone suddenly appeared.

Blinking, not understanding what was happening, Han-geon stared.

Junseong grinned.

“Manager-nim, could I have your number?”

“…Huh?

My number?”

“Yes.

Since we’ll be seeing each other every day during filming, I figured it might come in useful.”

…Maybe.

But why would he need the number of someone else’s manager…?

Though he wondered, Han-geon didn’t ask further and simply typed it in.

They were both men, after all—no need to overthink it.

And like he said, things come up during filming.

“Here.”

“Thanks.

Let’s get along well from now on, Manager-nim.”

His bright smile was refreshing.

Han-geon accepted the handshake he offered.

For some reason, the man seemed to like him quite a bit.

But there was no need to put up walls unnecessarily.

Besides, he wasn’t remotely in the mood to meet someone new right now, but this was technically a company dinner with coworkers.

And thanks to Junseong chatting with him, he didn’t have to return to the table alone with his heart in shreds.

For that alone, he was starting to feel grateful.

“Choi Han-geon.”

A voice cold as ice called his name.

Han-geon froze.

He had been with Juwon earlier—so why was he suddenly here?

He didn’t have the courage to turn and face Eun-gyeol, who was surely behind him staring.

What if he asked what earlier was about?

Why he ran off?

Would he be able to answer calmly?

But Han-geon’s prediction—that Eun-gyeol would be standing with Juwon—was shattered.

Instead, Eun-gyeol strode over alone, grabbed Han-geon’s shoulder harshly, and spun him around.

“What are you doing out here?”

His voice dripped with irritation.

Before Han-geon could answer, Junseong spoke first.

“Ah, sunbae.

I was just chatting with Manager-nim while I smoked.”

“f*ck—chatting my ass, what’s there to chat about with someone who doesn’t even smoke—”

Eun-gyeol clicked his tongue sharply and yanked Han-geon behind him.

His grip was so tight it was painful, making Han-geon wince and shake off the hand gripping his arm.

“Ow—why are you suddenly like this?”

“You don’t have something to say to me?”

His tone made it sound like he knew everything Han-geon had seen earlier.

Startled, Han-geon clenched his fist.

He had seen it, but it wasn’t a crime.

It wasn’t something he shouldn’t have seen.

He had no reason to be shaken.

“…Let’s go.”

At Han-geon’s single sentence, Eun-gyeol turned without even acknowledging Junseong.

Junseong looked a bit surprised but didn’t say a word—just watched the two of them with a strange curiosity replacing the cheerfulness in his expression.

Han-geon bowed his head politely and followed after Eun-gyeol.

Walking around the building brought them to the back—the very place where Eun-gyeol and Juwon had stood earlier.

Han-geon didn’t want to come here, but this wasn’t the time to avoid places.

A sigh slipped out.

“What were you doing with Yu Junseong?”

Eun-gyeol stopped under the large zelkova tree again, turning sharply.

His voice was frosty.

“What about you?

Why have you been acting like this?

Did Junseong piss you off somehow?”

“Just answer the damn question.

Don’t piss me off.”

His eyes were blazing.

Han-geon let out a small laugh in disbelief.

“Why are you swearing?

I didn’t do anything.

We just introduced ourselves, talked about when I started working—”

He almost added, We exchanged numbers, so what? but instinctively stopped.

For some reason, Eun-gyeol clearly loathed Junseong.

Telling him they’d exchanged numbers would only fan the flames.

“…That’s all.

What are you getting so worked up about?”

“That’s really all?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not hiding anything from me?”

Eun-gyeol stared at him with an unreadable expression—beautiful and cold, serpent-like.

Han-geon wet his lips.

“No.

Why would I hide anything… from you?

And you—”

“What.”

“…You, on the other hand—”

A surge of hurt nearly burst out.

He had no actual complaint he was allowed to voice, yet he wanted to complain anyway.

He had just been standing with Juwon.

Touching her hair.

Smiling softly at her.

What was that, then?

You get to do whatever you want with someone else, but I get interrogated over something this trivial…?

‘…Pathetic.

What’s there to be hurt about?’

Han-geon dragged a hand down his face and swallowed the words.

Of course—of course he couldn’t say that.

His feelings and the reason Eun-gyeol was upset were worlds apart.

Opposites.

Ice and fire.

Han-geon liked Eun-gyeol.

That’s why seeing him with Juwon made him angry, and hurt, and jealous, and miserable.

Seventeen years spent trying to deny these feelings—and he knew by now he could never call it anything else.

But Eun-gyeol?

His anger had nothing to do with that.

He’d always had a possessive streak—he hated when Han-geon spent time with other friends.

Even yesterday, he’d declared in front of Yoojin that Han-geon was “his,” simply because he was his bodyguard and manager.

Even a flimsy claim like that—Eun-gyeol cherished as if it were something precious.

With such different hearts, there was no way Eun-gyeol would ever understand.

And because of that, Han-geon couldn’t express his own feelings freely—not like Eun-gyeol.

He could only clench his fists and swallow it.

Hide it deep in his throat.