SWAP 39

There are moments like that.

When the tightly drawn boundaries, set to prevent mingling, crumble all at once over something trivial. When, despite drenching the surface of the heart layer by layer to keep it hidden, it’s useless, and the carefully stacked fine threads collapse sharply, as if it were nothing at all.

It was exactly like that now.

The moment he understood Saheon’s words, which he could only hear clearly by concentrating, Seoul had to grip the steering wheel he was holding even tighter. As if it were his own heart, he put all his strength into every knuckle.

He probably knew. At that time, Seoul had no time to sleep properly. It wasn’t like now, with laws protecting child actors, and the midsummer set, filled with seasoned veteran actors, was like thin ice, unlike the season itself. On days when he messed up a line, a thunderous scolding would fall, and his vision would go black.

But what was scarier than that was the sight of someone standing behind the camera. When they mouthed, it’s okay, you can do it, with a smiling face, a corner of his heart would grow cold, and he would jolt upright. He wanted to do better, he had to, and he did. It was a time when he was trying desperately to prove himself somehow. Funnily enough, the more he did, the more he was reminded daily of the fact that he was an easily replaceable object.

He hadn’t said anything to Saheon. He didn’t want to worry him again with things that couldn’t be helped. Whenever he turned on his phone, he would reply to the messages that were always there, pretending to be fine, acting composed all the while, but in truth, he wanted to run away every once in a while.

That day was probably one of them.

That’s probably why he secretly took a taxi and ran to him.

He just wanted to see his happy face when he received the gift, but when he saw him getting angry out of the blue, not knowing his feelings, something shattered. Fine. Throw it away if you don’t need it. He had thrown the box, which he had packaged so carefully in case it got scratched, onto the floor and turned away. As soon as he did, tears welled up. Because he felt like the one tumbling in the dirt was him.

Only then, as if realizing his mistake, the young Saheon hastily grabbed him as he was about to return to his empty home.

The boy who never once complained, even to his own parents, immediately picked up the box, saying he was sorry.

It was the summer rainy season. The ground was a mess from the previous night’s rain, so the boy’s hands got dirty too. But Saheon didn’t care and held the box to his chest. The crown of his head, which was always held high without ever bending, easily bowed only for him.

I’m sorry. The disjointed apology continued again. I just suddenly got angry. You know, summer is my weak point. You came from so far away and I… Ah, fuck, it’s just because my personality is shitty. I tried to fix it after you told me, but it’s still like this, huh?

Contrary to his rough words, the back of the hand that wiped away his damp cheeks was endlessly gentle. Glaring irritably at the area under his teary eyes, the boy sighed that he couldn’t even wipe them because his hands were dirty, and said. So don’t cry, Lee Seoul. Why would I throw this away. You’re the one who gave it to me.

“……”

As he recalled that far, the strength in his hands, which had been gripping the steering wheel tightly, unknowingly drained away. It wasn’t because of the summer he called his weak point, nor because he couldn’t overcome his fiery temper… but because he didn’t know what kind of expression to make at the words that he just disliked that he couldn’t sleep comfortably.

This is why I was going to quit.

Swallowing his churning heart, Seoul clenched his teeth.

No matter how hard he tried not to attach meaning, being this close, he would eventually end up wanting to misunderstand in some way. He wanted to remain just a friend who had been through all the years together, like those kids sitting in the back, but he was most afraid that he wouldn’t be able to.

He didn’t want to make that kind of mistake ever again.

It was the moment he was obsessively repeating this to himself, trying to ignore the creeping afterimages. A voice suddenly popped up from behind him.

“Sunbae-nim.”

“…Huh?”

The sudden call brought his half-absent mind back. He hurriedly checked the rearview mirror and saw Ye Juyeol’s face, which had moved very close to him. After composing his chaotic inner thoughts, he opened his mouth a beat later, and was asked this.

“So what happened to the shoes in the end…?”

It seemed he was curious about the rest of the story, which had been cut off in the middle.

After a brief pause, um, Seoul replied in a casual tone.

“What do you mean, what happened. He still has them.”

The shoes he had gifted that day were still displayed in Seo Saheon’s collection room. He had kept them all this time, even though they no longer fit and he couldn’t wear them. It wasn’t just the shoes. The boy had collected every single birthday gift he had given him over the years without missing one.

Why would I throw this away. You’re the one who gave it to me.

As that young voice came to mind again, his solar plexus throbbed as if something was stuck there. It felt like what Seo Saheon still had was his heart. He was sorry for that.

ㄨ

“I’ll drive on the way back.”

It was just as they had finished parking and were leaving the supermarket’s underground parking lot.

As he followed the two who had run off, looking extremely excited, to get a shopping cart, Saheon came up beside him and spoke quietly. Seoul, who had intended to drive on the way back as well, naturally shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

“Are you in a bad mood?”

“Huh?”

“You seem tired.”

…I can’t even think. Because of Saheon, who knew him like a ghost despite him not showing much, Seoul couldn’t even hesitate. He unconsciously avoided the following camera lens and said with an indifferent face.

“Of course I’m tired. We’ve been running around all day. But isn’t that what I should be saying to you? You worked harder than I did.”

He couldn’t believe the cornfield mission had been this morning. Was it because so much had happened? It felt like it had been several days. He looked to his side, and Saheon shrugged as if he didn’t know what he had worked so hard on. Expecting that, Seoul gave a deliberately playful warning.

“And you’re going to have it even harder starting tomorrow. Because I plan to swap you around a lot.”

“…You’re going to swap me, Seoul-ah?”

“Yeah. So you can swap me too.”

Let’s call it even with that. Instead, no blaming each other, no matter what comes up. When he openly proposed that they cooperate in anticipation of the gift-giving ceremony on the last day, he heard a small laugh. He was a little scared of what the mission would be… but he decided to trust Producer Jeon’s words that he wouldn’t kill them.

Just as he finished talking, two carts approached at high speed with a clattering sound. He muttered, they could have just waited inside, and Ye Juyeol, who stopped right in front of them and spun his cart stylishly, exclaimed with an excited face.

“What should we buy? Meat? Snacks? Or a watermelon?”

“Hey. Are we going to a valley or something? What’s with the watermelon?”

“Um. Then for now, a box of instant rice and ramen? Gasp. I want to eat budae-jjigae too. Can we buy just a medium-sized one? I heard the meal kits at this supermarket are delicious!”

It started with talk of food. Well, it was natural since they were at a supermarket. Letting the various food names that were pouring out flow past him, Seoul said.

“I saw earlier that there’s a rice cooker and everything in the kitchen. Let’s just buy rice instead of instant rice. If we’re going to eat budae-jjigae, then let’s get a can of ham and baked beans.”

If it were just the two of them, it might be different, but since there were four people, that seemed like a better option. It was a dish where you just had to dump everything in and boil it, so he was listing the ingredients, when Yun Hyeok and Ye Juyeol, who were gripping the cart handles, turned to look at him simultaneously with wide eyes.

It was a somewhat burdensome gaze, so when he stopped talking, they asked as if they had been waiting.

“Hyung, do you know how to cook…?”

“Yeah. Just a little?”

“Gasp. We can’t cook at all. It’s not that we don’t want to, it’s just, what is it. A talent? We just don’t have it….”

“That’s right. He turned a fried egg into charcoal this morning.”

“Hey, why are you tattling again! You were the one who asked me to make it!”

“I didn’t ask you to burn it.”

Glare. Ye Juyeol, who was forcibly silenced as if he had nothing more to say, glared at Yun Hyeok. The feeling of, I shouldn’t have done it for you! was clear on his face.

Watching the two of them, who were practically doing a comedy routine, Seoul was forcibly made aware of their cooking skills. Not just burning a fried egg, but turning it into charcoal… how did he even do that? A question arose, but he couldn’t ask. He was afraid that if he did, they might offer to demonstrate, and a terrible thing might happen.

Seoul urgently recalled the contents of the move-in guide.

He was pretty sure it said that meal preparation and the division of household chores were left to the cast’s discretion. It was a silver lining. If there had been a rule forcing them to take turns, he might have had to witness that charcoal-fried egg in person.

A future where he would naturally be in charge of cooking was drawn out, but it wasn’t bad. He was used to cooking for himself when it was just the two of them anyway, so he would just have to add more to the quantity. Whether the food would suit their tastes was a separate issue…. It’s a case of if you don’t like the temple, the monk must leave.

As he entered through the automatic doors, he looked at the directory and saw that the fresh produce section seemed to be on the B1 floor. The problem arose when they got off the escalator.

“Gack.”

Seo Saheon had grabbed Ye Juyeol’s cart, which was about to dash forward as if on a rampage, with one hand, thud.

Thanks to that, Ye Juyeol, who had experienced the law of action and reaction with his own body, folded in half and hung limply into the cart like laundry. Not even seeming to see him groaning, Saheon easily pulled Ye Juyeol and pushed him near Yun Hyeok, and said.

“Should we split up?”

He was asking if there was a need to all stick together.

It didn’t seem that crowded, but since it was an outdoor shoot, they inevitably had to have at least one VJ with them, so the space was indeed tight.

It was a good idea, so he was about to nod, but for a moment, he thought something was strange. Why is this so awkward, he tilted his head, and a question suddenly occurred to him.

Oh.

Come to think of it, these three….

Other than when they first introduced themselves, have they ever spoken to each other?