Chapter 51: The Things He Never Knew

“People who don’t know his past say Ji-tae was just born talented, but I don’t believe that.

He may seem emotionally numb, but he really worked himself to the bone.”

Woo-joo, who until just now had been one of those people ignorant of Ji-tae’s past, grew solemn.

He had made assumptions about someone who had climbed all the way here through opportunities he created with sheer effort.

He had thought Ji-tae had simply walked comfortably along a perfectly paved road, without ever struggling.

‘When I first started in the entertainment industry.

Was it just hard to adjust?’

He remembered something Ji-tae had vaguely mentioned once over breakfast.

“So he was just about to hit it big as a model, and then he suddenly threw it all away saying he wanted to become an actor.”

“That’s not exactly an ordinary choice, right?”

“Well, not really.

There are many cases of models debuting and then succeeding as actors, but it’s never easy.

The work is completely different, and if you challenge it recklessly, you might end up failing at both.

I tried to stop him at first, but he insisted he’d do it even if it killed him.”

Hearing about Won Ji-tae from someone else’s mouth felt very different from the version Woo-joo had known.

That was why he wanted to know, even just a little, how Ji-tae had lived during those seven years he hadn’t been around.

He didn’t have a habit of digging into other people’s pasts.

But simple curiosity outweighed any sense of moral restraint.

“Did he say why?”

“What was it again…?

Ah, he said he had a feeling he could succeed even more through acting.

He used to say often that he had to succeed quickly and prove something.”

Prove success?

To whom?

But it didn’t seem like Baek knew the details either.

“But you and Ji-tae were pretty close in school, right?

Looks like you really didn’t keep in touch at all.”

“Yeah… well.”

Woo-joo gave an awkward smile.

It seemed Baek had noticed how little he knew about Ji-tae’s path as a model and actor.

Given how many questions he had asked, it was practically obvious.

Just then, a staff member called Baek from afar.

He excused himself and stepped away.

What if they had kept in contact after graduating high school?

When Woo-joo had heard that Ji-tae, who was confirmed to enter an overseas league, had suddenly disappeared from the volleyball world, he had tried repeatedly to reach him.

But he couldn’t get through.

By then, Woo-joo had already left the country, so he couldn’t even see him in person.

One sleepless night from those countless nights spent struggling alone in a foreign land—burdened by anxiety and pressure to prove himself—surfaced in his mind.

Unable to sleep, he had been staring at his phone.

Without thinking, he had called Ji-tae.

Even now, he didn’t quite know why.

At the time, he must have thought it was his best option.

Maybe it was instinct—the urge to fight off the darkness and loneliness eating away at him.

But that day was no different from the others.

After that, Woo-joo deleted Ji-tae’s number.

He didn’t know whether it was out of anger or something else.

It just felt like he wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he erased it.

If he hadn’t deleted that number and had kept reaching out, could he have maintained a relationship like Baek had with him?

“Kang Woo-joo.”

The waiting room door opened, and Ji-tae’s voice rang out.

Woo-joo turned instinctively.

This time, Ji-tae carried an entirely different vibe from earlier as he walked over.

The suit was gone.

Now he wore jeans and a denim jacket, and his hair had been let down.

His makeup was more glamorous, giving him an idol-like aura.

Perhaps this was what it meant when people said he pulled off any styling effortlessly.

“They said they’ll go straight in once everything’s ready.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Right.

Do you want something to drink?

I’ll get it.”

As Woo-joo moved to leave, he suddenly felt his collar being tugged.

Looking down, sure enough, Ji-tae had reached out toward him.

“What?”

“……”

Instead of answering, Ji-tae simply stared at him.

“What.

If you grabbed me, say something.”

What kind of new nonsense was this?

“I… let my hair down.”

“So?”

“I let it down, I……”

“I know.

I have eyes too.

Wait.

I’ll get you something to drink.”

Unaware that Ji-tae had been excited to show him his lowered hair since inside the waiting room, Woo-joo turned away indifferently.

Strangely, the longer the shoot went on, the more lively the atmosphere became.

Even the assisting staff looked unexpectedly energized.

Woo-joo glanced toward the source of it all.

Though the shoot had already been going on for hours, Baek’s voice showed no sign of fading.

Neither did Ji-tae.

He had changed outfits so many times that Woo-joo lost count after three.

Ji-tae was undoubtedly tired.

Woo-joo had seen him rub his neck between shots or briefly close his eyes during tiny breaks.

Yet the moment he stood before the camera, it was as if none of that fatigue had ever existed.

If the two people who should have been the most exhausted were giving their absolute all, it was only natural for everyone else to be swept up in that energy.

It was fascinating, yet understandable, how people unconsciously melted into the atmosphere created by someone’s drive.

“Won Ji-tae is totally in his element today.”

“Seriously.

This pictorial’s going to blow up again.

At this point, he should be getting sensitive, but he’s maintaining his energy so well.

Surprising.”

Woo-joo, who had to stay nearby to check on Ji-tae’s condition and bring him snacks, caught the murmurs of two staff members organizing props in a corner.

Among all the chatter, that conversation stood out—probably because Ji-tae was at its center.

“But what’s he like when he gets sensitive?”

“Hey, his expression gets intense.

You’ve never seen it?

I heard that……”

Woo-joo, who had been listening quietly, strode toward them.

“Do you need help?”

“Huh?”

With a pleasant smile, he naturally inserted himself between the two.

More precisely, between the two who were just about to spread rumors about Ji-tae.

Ji-tae might have been exceptionally tall, but Woo-joo was far above average himself.

As a tall man approached them confidently, the two staff members instinctively shrank back.

“I’ve been watching, and you two seemed busy.”

“No, no, this is our job… haha.

But thank you for offering.”

If someone had to change outfits for hours under bright lights and maintain that level of tension, anyone would grow sensitive.

Ji-tae hadn’t done anything rude on set.

When changing outfits, he simply stayed quietly in the waiting room and came out when ready.

So these people had neither the right nor the reason to speak negatively about him.

Bad rumors spread easily.

People were inherently interested in criticizing and tearing others down.

“Well, if you need help, let me know.

I’m pretty confident when it comes to physical work.”

As he turned away, Woo-joo roughly ran a hand through his hair.

“Alright, let’s start wrapping up the shoot!”

A voice rang out from afar.

At once, the set grew busy again.

“I think this cut is the best.

Ji-tae, what about you?”

Baek and Ji-tae stood before the computer reviewing the photos.

“I like this one and the third one from earlier.”

“Ah, that one’s good too.”

“The last photo also fits today’s concept well.”

Baek stared at Ji-tae intently.

“Why?” Ji-tae asked.

“You just seem really energized today.

It must’ve been tough.

You okay?”

Right now, Ji-tae wasn’t just lively—he was overflowing with vitality, enough to soak everyone around him.

In the past, after shoots, he had often looked like a walking corpse, drained of life.

Working meant pouring all his energy out in front of the camera, so exhaustion was natural.

“I’m fine.”

“What, have you been managing your stamina with workouts or something?”

Baek joked.

Ji-tae fell silent for a moment.

As he moved the mouse absently, he turned his head.

His gaze fixed somewhere off to one side.

It was only natural for Baek to follow that line of sight unconsciously.

Just as he was about to trace where Ji-tae’s eyes had landed, a voice fell from above.

“Just… today doesn’t feel that tiring.”

“Oh?

Well, that’s good then.”