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“I can’t go home,” she said once she found her voice. I have no home.
“Then we’ll go to mine.”
Da Young shrank a bit at the fact that they had to turn back towards the high-end area of Seoul she had fled, away from her bookstore.
The numbness took over and she silently followed him. She must have walked for quite a while. Neither called for a car; they treaded along in silence, letting their thoughts disentangle with each step.
Once they arrived, Jae Woon opened his front door and turned on as many lights as he could, trying to flood the place with warmth, though he still felt some shame about how little comfort it could provide her compared to her bookstore.
Now that they were there, he felt a little awkward, as well. “Make yourself at home,” he said, ignoring the irony that he didn’t even feel at home most of the time, although he used to adore the solitude. Now, the writer was here with him. The house almost seemed to be growing warmer—and smaller—as they stood there together.
He then almost hit himself in the head. What did I mean by “make yourself at home”? he sighed. He took her bag over to the couch and gestured for her to sit down. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
Instead, she started talking. Her thoughts had organized themselves during the long walk, and now she felt ready to talk. “As you might have seen, the bookstore is gone. My parents sold it while I was away.”
For some reason, Jae Woon felt guilty, like it was his fault they went away to Jeju Island. “But why did they do that?” he asked, perching on the edge of an ottoman some distance away from the writer to give her space.
“It was failing. They didn’t want to take care of it anymore.” She released a sad little exhale like the ghost of a laugh, surprising herself at her own words.
Da Young explained how she had kept her writing career a secret from her parents, but they had found out. Jae Woon briefly noted she must use a pen name. He had never thought about it before. He turned all of his attention back on her.
She stared blankly at the floor some distance away, monologuing without any energy. “I needed to do well on this drama to secure another contract and keep the bookstore open, but ironically, the drama did so well that my parents found out and thought they could do better.”
She paused. Jae Woon waited.
“I can’t go back to them. They’ll just keep using me,” she murmured. She buried her head into her hands. “The lease is probably under my name…I guess I’ll just keep giving them money, but I don’t want to go back. I won’t go back.”
She’s just like me…he thought. Rather than feeling comforted, he felt sorry because he knew what that was like, and he wouldn’t wish it on anybody else, especially Da Young.
“You can stay here.” The words came out of his mouth before he knew it.
Da Young stared at him, surprised. “That’s really generous, but I couldn’t…”
“I’m rarely here—and I have a guest room!” he quickly added, standing up before she noticed his blush. He picked up her bag. “Here, I’ll show you.”
She followed him down the opposite hallway to the one that led to his room. At the end, he opened a black door to show her a guest room. He wasn’t sure why he had one—he never had guests over. Jo Suk used to crash there once in a while, but this became rarer and rarer as his family grew.
She walked in and studied the room. The windows were large and covered the entire corner, ending before another corner where an L-shaped desk was pushed against the wall, the perfect space for her writing. The view of the city was beautiful, and she could see the Han River.
Da Young swallowed and turned back to him. “I shouldn’t…” but this didn’t sound convincing even to her own ears.
“Please. At least for tonight,” he said generously, trying to ignore the panic of sending her back out there the way she was now—or of being left alone again. He added after a beat, “There’s even a lock on the door!”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Okay. One night. Thanks.”
“Of course.” He then showed her how the guestroom had its own bathroom so they never even had to see each other except maybe in the kitchen.
She opened the refrigerator during his brief tour and glanced at him. “Maybe you won’t see me at all…” The fridge was completely empty except a couple bottles of water and one really old takeout container she wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole.
–
Won Joo glanced at Yul Hee. The actress had been anxious since they had escaped the crowd, but her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, probably back to whatever the phone call had been about.
On the plane, she had kept shaking next to him, bouncing her knees restlessly with her eyes darting back and forth, so her manager had finally given her herbal medication to calm her. Won Joo had placed headphones over her ears and turned on a slow movie she didn’t pay attention to. Eventually, she had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder.
The whole thing had thrown him off. He had never seen her this anxious before, and he hadn’t even thought it possible. What had caused it? he wondered, glancing at the phone gripped in her hands. She had been trying to get in contact with somebody but apparently to no avail.
Now, they were at a private lounge in the Incheon airport. She was trying to ring somebody again while her manager did some damage control regarding the fiasco at the Jeju Island airport. He was calling for extra backup and security for the two stars.
Finally, Yul Hee murmured, “Why isn’t she picking up?” Won Joo approached her cautiously, like he was trying to calm a frightened kitten on the streets.
“What can I do to help?” he asked. He had been so quiet and gentle, but that also meant he had popped up completely out of the blue, making her jump.
“My friend,” she replied. “She’s in trouble, I think.”
He gaped at her. “Like she’s about to get hurt?” He pictured a woman being held hostage by the mafia, in a car dangling off a bridge, stuck in the subway during a zombie apocalypse… Maybe I should stop watching movies at night before I go to bed, he thought wryly. It was like an occupational hazard for him.
Yul Hee gnawed on her lower lip. “I think she’s probably already hurt…”
Was she at the hospital? his traitorous brain continued. Did the mafia want a ransom like yesterday for this girl? What the hell is Yul Hee involved in?
She suddenly gave him such a helpless look, her lovely eyebrows furrowed, her sweet eyes close to tears, her dainty lips pulled into a frown, that Won Joo, for a second, forgot where he was. It felt like he had been transplanted into a melodrama movie from the 90s or early 2000s.
No wonder the men in those movies went crazy over the sweet girl next door, especially when she cried…he thought to himself, then tried to snap out of it. Wait, she’s not the sweet girl next door. His eyes refocused on her. She sure looks like one, though…
Before he knew it, he opened his arms wide and she, as if on cue, walked into his embrace. It felt so natural. She even nestled into his chest, noting to herself that he was more muscular yet more huggable than she had expected. His warmth was comforting.
He gently patted her back and was about to move up to cup her head when a deep voice broke the trance:
“Yul Hee.”
They both looked up, and Won Joo’s heart dropped. A huge, hulking man stood in the doorway like a shadowy figure, his thick arms crossed in a menacing fashion, the veins popping out like Won Joo’s eyes.
Omg, stop him! St-stop him, what are you guys doing? Won Joo thought in a panic to their security team as the man approached the actress. Her manager and bodyguard weren’t doing anything.
Won Joo didn’t hesitate—although he shook—as he gently moved Yul Hee behind him so he could stand firmly between her and this scary stranger.
“Who are you? What are you doing?” Won Joo asked, his voice firm despite his shaking exterior.
“Who are you?” the man’s voice boomed.
“ME?” Won Joo said, trying to sound macho, but the word came out slightly squeaky. He also wondered if his being the constant second lead really limited his fame and he had to work harder so even mobster-looking fellows started recognizing him—wait, maybe that was not what he wanted.
Yul Hee almost snorted in laughter. She placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. “Won Joo, it’s okay. That’s my dad.”
This did nothing to calm Won Joo down. His eyes moved from head to toe, taking in this masculine, tough figure who looked like part of the mafia holding Yul Hee’s friend hostage in his imagination.
“Is he making you say that?” he whispered to her.
“How is he making me say that?” she said between more laughs. She gestured at her manager and bodyguard. “They didn’t stop him because they know him, right?”
“Hello, Mr. Han,” her manager said, bowing politely. The security guard acknowledged her father with a nod of his head, his eyes busy surveying the area.
“Oh…” Won Joo still needed some time to digest this information, but his manners, which had been so deeply ingrained in him since he was young, naturally took over and he bowed. “Hello, Yul Hee’s father. It’s nice to meet you. Sorry for the misunderstanding.”
Mr. Han waved this off good-naturedly, as if people often mistook him for muscle-for-hire. But as soon as Won Joo felt a tiny bit more at ease, Mr. Han’s face turned grave again; somehow the lighting seemed to even help, suddenly casting his sharp features in deep shadow.
“No worries about that. Now tell me before I misunderstand.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Why were you embracing my daughter?”
Next week on 🌟How to Write a K-Drama🌟
He shoved that thought deep into the darkest recesses of his mind, his survival instincts kicking in. All focus had to be in this moment right now with one stern father staring at him, wondering why he had had his arms around precious daughter Yul Hee.