SWAP 38

The Korean restaurant they found through a search thankfully suited everyone’s tastes. It was a reliable review, coming from Seo Saheon himself, who had completely cleared the soy-sauce-marinated crab, grilled fish, and abalone pot rice he had so longed for. The other guys had also scraped their bowls clean. Feeling inexplicably proud at the sight, Seoul was about to offer some of his own food but was caught by Saheon. In the end, he could only finish his meal after eating all of the grilled deodeok in front of him.

There was a small commotion at the counter as well.

Seoul, who had taken the bill, had inadvertently handed over his personal card.

As it happened, the color was similar to the corporate card, so even the VJ in charge of filming Seoul up close let it slide. The strangeness was noticed only through a call from the youngest writer, who found it odd that a transaction history hadn’t appeared despite receiving a report that the corporate card had been swiped.

The atmosphere among the staff on site became unsettled at the question of whether the payment had gone through correctly. It was then that Seoul, who had been about to leave, checked his card again. It was because he had belatedly discovered that the payment confirmation text, which should have gone to the production team, had been sent to his own phone.

In the end, after offering apologies here and there and paying again, Seoul held out the card towards the three people following him.

“I’m resigning voluntarily. I’m not cut out to be the treasurer.”

After the shell game with the production team, the corporate card had naturally fallen into Seoul’s hands. Since his perfect victory had doubled the budget, they had decided to leave the use of the card to Seoul’s discretion as well. For him, it was a burdensome position.

Fortunately(?), he had made a mistake on the very first day and tried to resign immediately, but it was thwarted by the opposition of the others. And so, the corporate card went back into Seoul’s wallet. To avoid another mix-up, Seoul moved his personal card to a different slot and said while checking the receipt.

“We’ve only spent 72,000 won so far…, so I think we can just spend comfortably. Two million for two weeks is more than enough.”

That’s right.

The initial limit set by the production team was exactly one million won.

It was an amount they had calculated generously, considering that two of the four cast members were famous for being big eaters. They wanted to film ordinary daily life, not a stingy vlog as Yun Hyeok had insinuated. Things just got twisted and ended up this way. In any case, thanks to that, they had become flush with cash in an instant.

Seoul immediately opened a notepad and entered the payment details. It was just in case. A terrifying penalty awaited if they got excited, swiped the card left and right, and exceeded the limit.

“Now we just need to stop by the supermarket.”

Getting back into the driver’s seat, Seoul operated the navigation and set the nearest supermarket as the destination.

After checking that everyone had their seatbelts on, he started the car, and Ye Juyeol, in a somewhat excited voice, chattered on while looking out the window.

“Wow, to be honest. I didn’t really feel it was real until I got here, you know? But now that we’ve played a game together, eaten out, and are even going grocery shopping, it’s starting to feel real. Something like this… doesn’t it feel like a family? Right?”

Is that so?

He wouldn’t know, since he’d never spent this kind of daily life with his real family.

For Seoul, this was closer to something you do with a friend. To be precise, ‘with Seo Saheon’ would be more accurate.

It hadn’t even been a day since they met, yet Ye Juyeol was already talking about family. Finding it fascinating, Seoul silently checked the rearview mirror. He saw Yun Hyeok, who had been on his phone, staring intently at the back of Ye Juyeol’s head. For some strange reason, that stuck in his mind.

“Yeah, it does. It feels like a family.”

So he played along appropriately.

It wasn’t a familiar word, but with a little effort, he could pronounce it affectionately. It was a slightly different concept from acting. Wondering why he was even thinking about something like this, Seoul let out a small laugh and asked towards the back seat.

“How did you two meet?”

There was still some time until they arrived, and he thought it would be good to know at least this much, so he asked lightly, and Yun Hyeok answered first.

“We were in middle school. Second year, to be exact. We happened to be in the same class, and he was my first desk-mate of the new semester.”

“Ah, so you became close then.”

“No? We fought every time we made eye contact.”

“……?”

At the unexpected turn of events, Seoul’s expression faltered.

They seemed so close that he had assumed they had been friends from the start, but to think they fought every time they made eye contact…. How much could they have possibly disliked each other?

In fact, for boys that age, it was a rather natural phenomenon, but for Seoul, who had attended school so sporadically that he had barely managed to meet the attendance requirements, it was an unknown world. In the first place, with Seo Saheon standing by his side, it was unlikely anyone would dare pick a fight with him.

“He was in the terminal stages of his eighth-grade syndrome back then, so if you touched him, he would bite. That’s not a metaphor, it’s real. He’d pick a fight every single day, saying, what are you looking at when I wasn’t even looking. He’s become a human being now.”

“Hey, shh! Why are you telling him all that…! I was just crazy back then! You threw a desk at me too.”

“Hah… I threw it because you threw a chair.”

“You told me to get out….”

“Right. Because it was cleaning time.”

“……”

Ye Juyeol fell silent, as if he had run out of things to say. It was a scene he couldn’t imagine at all, compared to how they were now. No matter how full of youthful vigor one might be, could they really be that different? With a heart half full of wonder and half full of surprise, Seoul muttered.

“You guys were rougher than I thought….”

“Us? Hmm, but well. Isn’t that normal for that age…?”

“That’s true.”

“We just grew on each other like that. Somehow our career paths ended up being similar, and we went to the same high school. I was lucky enough to debut first, and then he hit it big later.”

“Ah.”

Seoul tried to recall when he was fifteen. At that time, he was in the middle of filming a historical drama that aired during prime time. All he remembered was suffering terribly from heat rash because it was summer. Dressed in layers of hanbok that didn’t allow for good ventilation, he couldn’t tell if he was on a set or in a sauna. Historical dramas filmed in the summer were the worst, to the point that even Seoul, who had a low body temperature, suffered from the heat.

That’s right.

Seoul finally understood the source of the faint sense of unease. Even when he looked back at specific periods, Seoul had almost no memories of hanging out with friends his age.

Just memories of visiting new sets, waiting constantly in the van, crying while clutching a script, and yet feeling his heart swell when he stood in front of the camera. Those moments were the entirety of his childhood.

That didn’t mean those times were miserable. Because he was the one who knew better than anyone what a great opportunity it was. He would probably have run to the film set again even if he went back to that time. That’s how much acting was his entire life… and just that one thing.

So there was no need to feel regret for the other. As he came to that conclusion, he felt a sense of distance. It was because he was once again reminded of the last day of filming. When he had stood there blankly, unable to utter that one line he had memorized over and over again.

Seoul’s gaze shifted unconsciously. The camera lens attached inside the vehicle was staring at him quietly. Looking at that black circle made the back of his neck prickle on its own. A vague anxiety that he had tried to push away crawled up his back as if it had been waiting.

What can you show now?

It was as if someone beyond the lens was asking that.

Familiar with the sneer mixed within it, Seoul turned his head. He knew it wasn’t a problem that could be solved just by looking away, but at present, he couldn’t give any answer. Maybe it was just simple burnout, and also….

“……”

As he was thinking that and tapping the steering wheel with his fingertips, he suddenly felt a gaze. He knew who it was without looking, so he asked, what, and an incomprehensible reply came back. The ominous thoughts vanished in an instant.

“Seoul-ah. Why are you the only one playing innocent?”

“Huh?”

“You threw a shoe at me too.”

I threw a shoe? And at Seo Saheon, of all people?

It was such a ridiculous story that he was dumbfounded, and the two in the back seat seemed to think so too, as he could feel them straightening up and leaning forward as far as their seatbelts would allow. They thought it was normal for them to throw chairs and desks, but a story about Seoul throwing a shoe was apparently interesting.

“What do you mean I threw a shoe? And at you?”

“Yeah. When we were in eighth grade. You were playing some crown prince.”

The timing was right. It was amazing that he even remembered what role he had played. A shoe…? Something seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, and as he furrowed his brow, Saheon provided a crucial keyword.

“My birthday.”

“Ah….”

Then, a memory suddenly came flooding back.

Nodding as if to say, that’s right, Seoul soon retorted with a wronged expression. I threw a shoe? That was a statement that went beyond fabrication to the level of distortion.

“Hey, what do you mean I threw a shoe? I told you to throw it away if you didn’t need it.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“What are you even talking about…. I went to the trouble of getting you shoes for your birthday, and you got angry, saying you didn’t need them. I was so hurt back then.”

It was when he was on location in Gijang, Busan. He had thought he would be able to go back for Saheon’s birthday, but the filming schedule was delayed, so he couldn’t. So, as soon as his part of the filming was over, he secretly took a taxi up to Seoul. Thinking about it now, he didn’t know what guts he had.

He thinks he just wanted to be the first to congratulate him, and maybe he wanted to hand over the shoes he had worked so hard to get.

After a full five-hour drive, Seoul had to face a very angry Saheon in front of his house. Not knowing the reason, they argued back and forth and only ended up with hurt feelings. So he had flung the shoes, which he had said he didn’t need, onto the floor.

He never imagined he would describe that as throwing them, so he was dumbfounded, but Saheon continued shamelessly.

“You came all the way from Busan in a taxi in the middle of the night just to give me a pair of shoes, so of course I’d be angry, wouldn’t I?”

“Isn’t that usually touching…?”

He thought he would have been. He would have been incredibly happy that he had remembered the date and had traveled a long way to celebrate it. In any case, shaking his head, unable to understand, Seoul let out a sigh. It was then that Saheon, who had turned his head towards the window, muttered in a low voice.

“I didn’t like it.”

“……”

“At that hour, I just wanted you to be sleeping comfortably in your lodging.”