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Join the ServerUnlike what others thought, Woojoo had never once believed that his relationship with Jitae was bad.
If anything, it had always been a healthy rivalry.
“Do you think Won Jitae sees it that way too? You know what the first thing I thought was when I saw the article about you two doing a show together?”
Woojoo stayed silent.
“That bastard Won Jitae has some insane tolerance.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“I mean, think about it.”
Yoon Jaeyeon shrugged smugly, continuing without pause.
“A guy who used to be better than you ends up with a messed-up shoulder and can’t even play anymore—and now he’s happily sticking next to you on a show. That’s pretty impressive, don’t you think?”
“…What?”
Woojoo’s dark brown eyes shook with confusion.
Among everything Jaeyeon said, one thing stuck in his ears.
“What did you just say… about Jitae’s shoulder?”
“Huh? You didn’t know?”
Jaeyeon looked genuinely surprised.
Woojoo tightened his grip on the strap of his sports bag.
His palms were starting to sweat.
“Didn’t you ask him before? I thought you didn’t want to hear it from me and wanted to hear it directly from him.”
He had asked.
And he had wanted to hear it from Jitae himself.
But he never got the answer.
Jitae never told him.
After that, Jitae collapsed—and then confessed—so everything else had been pushed aside.
“…Say it again. What did you mean?”
If it had been anything else, Woojoo would’ve brushed it off as provocation.
But this—
He couldn’t walk away.
“His shoulder… what happened…?”
“Well, saying it’s completely ruined is a bit much—but back then, it was bad enough that he couldn’t play.”
Jaeyeon spoke casually, without hesitation.
Hearing that, something suddenly came to mind.
That day—when Jitae collapsed and tried to protect himself from getting hurt.
The way he reacted to Woojoo’s bandaged arm.
“You can’t… you can’t get hurt…”
“Don’t get hurt… don’t end up like me…”
Back then, Woojoo thought it was just shock.
But if it came from experience—
Then Jaeyeon’s words suddenly felt far more believable.
“Why? Why was he hurt? Was it an accident?”
Maybe a car accident.
Maybe that’s why he disappeared.
Woojoo asked almost desperately.
Jaeyeon scratched his head.
“Not a car accident… more like because of his family.”
Family?
That only made things more confusing.
“Even I shouldn’t talk about that much. If you want details, ask him yourself. You two seem pretty close now.”
With that, Jaeyeon casually dropped the bomb and walked away.
Leaving Woojoo alone.
He had always suspected there was a reason Jitae quit volleyball.
He never believed it was because it wasn’t fun.
But this—
He had never imagined it.
Injuries ending careers were common in sports.
Especially in volleyball, where shoulders and wrists were constantly strained.
But Jitae disappeared right after graduating high school.
Before even stepping into the professional world.
There was no way it was just overuse.
And Jaeyeon had said it wasn’t an accident.
It was his family.
“……”
What exactly happened to Jitae back then?
Woojoo’s gaze drifted aimlessly.
“I think this role suits you well. What do you think?”
Jitae was sitting with his agency’s CEO and staff, discussing his next project.
“I like this one too. The role is interesting, and the script is good.”
Others nodded in agreement.
After his film and variety show success, scripts were practically lining up for him.
If companies were desperate to get Woojoo, Jitae was now in demand across the acting industry.
Even the CEO looked brighter these days.
“Alright, let’s wrap up here.”
After the meeting, it was already past 7 PM.
The days were getting longer as summer approached.
“Jitae, you seem a lot better these days.”
His manager spoke while driving.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know… you just look more alive than a few days ago. Did collapsing knock some sense into you?”
Jitae smiled faintly.
It wasn’t that—
It was something deeper.
Confessing had been impulsive.
He regretted it.
But at the same time—
It felt relieving.
Like pulling out a long-rotting tooth.
His feelings for Woojoo were the biggest part of who he was.
And he had been suppressing them for so long.
Letting them out had lightened him.
Of course—
That was only possible because Woojoo hadn’t rejected him.
“You don’t have any schedule tomorrow. Get some rest.”
“Yeah. Drive safe.”
After getting home, Jitae looked at his messy apartment.
Woojoo would’ve nagged me about this.
He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a carton of chocolate milk.
“You’re going to get diabetes.”
For a moment, it felt like he heard Woojoo’s voice.
But no one was there.
That one month together had left a strong impact.
“One month? Might as well have been a year.”
He muttered, complaining about Sunhyeok’s show format—
When the doorbell rang.
He frowned.
Who could it be?
If it were his manager, he wouldn’t ring—he’d just come in.
Curious, Jitae turned on the intercom.
And froze.
He almost spat out his chocolate milk.
He quickly unlocked the door, then rushed around shoving clutter aside before opening it.
“W-Woojoo? What brings you here?”
“……”
Woojoo stared at him silently.
Jitae gave an awkward smile.
The one person he least expected—and had just been thinking about—was standing in front of him.
His heart raced.
“…I came without thinking. Good thing you’re here. Can I come in?”
“Ah—yeah.”
Jitae led him inside and went to the kitchen.
But there was nothing to offer except—
“Don’t really have anything… I’ll make coffee.”
“No. Just come sit.”
Jitae paused, then walked back.
Something felt off.
Woojoo’s voice was calm—but his expression was darker than usual.
“…Did something happen?”
Jitae sat beside him.
The sofa sank slightly.
Silence filled the space.
Woojoo didn’t answer.
Which meant—something had happened.
“Won Jitae.”
“Yeah?”
“…Did you hurt your shoulder?”
Jitae’s lips parted slightly.
His eyelids trembled.
“…How do you know that?”
“So it’s true.”
Woojoo ran a hand through his hair.
“Is that why you quit volleyball?”
Jitae clenched his jaw—then nodded.
“…Yeah.”
Hearing that, Woojoo exhaled sharply.
“How did you find out?”
“Does that even matter right now?”
His tone was sharp.
Not like his usual teasing or irritation.
Jitae couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Tell me.”
Woojoo’s voice was restrained.
Not pleading.
Not angry.
Just… holding something in.
“Tell me what happened back then.”
Jitae let his body relax.
Then slowly—
He began to speak.
A story from the past.
Faded—but still heavy.
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