chapter 106
The heavy silence that hung over the breakfast table the following morning was thick enough to cut with a knife. Haru had gone to bed the previous night dreading this exact moment, his mind playing a non-stop loop of Hae-rin's wide, bulging eyes and the mortifying sound of her high-pitched shriek. He had barely slept, tossing and turning in Raiven's oversized shirt until the early hours of the dawn, wishing the earth would open up and swallow him whole.
From the looks of it, Se-hee was completely oblivious to the occurrences of the previous night. She was cheerfully chewing on her toasted bread, scrolling through her phone, and occasionally humming along to a song. That, at least, was a massive relief.
Hae-rin, however, looked like she was trying to dissolve into the wallpaper. She sat rigidly in her chair, her gaze glued firmly to her plate of eggs as if they held the secrets to the universe. She absolutely refused to look Haru in the eye.
Because Hae-rin and Se-hee had grown exceptionally close over the past few months, it wasn't unusual for Hae-rin to spend the night at the apartment. They had formed a tight bond that Haru genuinely respected. He had actually asked Se-hee once, in a quiet, casual moment, if her feelings for Hae-rin went beyond the platonic. But Se-hee had just laughed it off, shaking her head and insisting that she only viewed her as a dear friend. Hae-rin had expressed the exact same sentiment when the topic arose.
Haru was deeply happy that they had found comfort and a safe haven in each other. Even Raiven had expressed a rare, soft vulnerability when talking about it, mentioning how incredibly happy he was that Hae-rin finally had a genuinely good, grounding influence in her life, one that didn't involve the toxic, hollow cycle of drugs, alcohol, and the exhausting high-life of the elite. At the time, Haru had found Raiven's words deeply ironic, considering the man himself loved partying almost as much as Hae-rin used to, but he chose to keep that observation to himself.
Right now, though, the domestic peace was completely hijacked by awkwardness. Every time the metal of a fork clinked against a ceramic plate, Haru felt a phantom wave of heat rush straight to his ears.
His phone sat face down on the table, a silent testament to his ongoing humiliation. The previous night, after Hae-rin had slammed his bedroom door shut, Jae-wook had completely lost his mind. The man had taunted, teased, and laughed at him so mercilessly through the video call that Haru's thumb had hovered over the 'Block' button for a full three minutes. He had been a hair's breadth away from cutting off the call entirely until Jae-wook finally choked back his laughter, breathlessly apologizing and promising that he would never, ever bring it up again.
But Haru knew it was a bold-faced lie. He knew the wicked, playful glint in Jae-wook's dark eyes all too well. Jae-wook was going to hold onto it forever. Haru still couldn't believe he had actually stooped to that scale,shedding his , discipline to do something modern, daring, and nice for their six-month anniversary only for it to be remembered in the most chaotic way humanly possible. He had sone it before in a bid to be spontaneous he had used a plug but at least that didnt leave him in this current predicament.
"Are you two angry with each other or something?" Se-hee's voice suddenly broke the silence, her eyes darting suspiciously between her brother and Hae-rin. "The vibe in here is like a funeral. Did something happen at the afterparty?"
"No!" Haru and Hae-rin blurted out at the exact same fraction of a second.
"Not at all," Hae-rin added quickly, her voice a little too high, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug. "Just... completely exhausted from the fanmeeting. My brain is fried."
"Yeah. Same here. Just tired," Haru muttered, clearing his throat and staring intensely at his glass of water.
Se-hee narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying the overly enthusiastic denials, but she chose not to press further. The moment breakfast was officially over, Haru practically bolted. He had already freshened up and dressed in a simple, low-profile outfit, so he grabbed his bag with practiced speed, bid a quick farewell to them, and slipped out of the apartment before Hae-rin could be forced to endure another second of his presence.
He didn't have any official broadcasting or filming schedules lined up for the day, which he knew would become rare luxury. However, he did have something deeply personal meticulously planned.
Slipping into the back of a taxi, he gave the driver an address in a quiet, highly secluded part of Seoul, away from the bustling commercial districts and flashing cameras. When he arrived at the tucked-away studio, the calm atmosphere immediately washed over him, soothing his frayed nerves. He greeted the polite instructor at the front desk with a warm, respectful bow, placed his personal belongings securely in a locker, and tied a thick canvas apron around his waist.
For the next three hours, the world outside ceased to exist. The studio was filled with immaculate, therapeutic vibes. Haru threw himself completely into the task, studying the materials, paying agonizingly close attention to every curve, texture, and technical detail. His past-life perfectionism flared up in the best way possible. Whenever he hit a roadblock, he didn't hesitate to ask for guidance, absorbing the instructor's advice like a sponge. He wanted this to be flawless.
After hours of intense focus, he finally perfected the piece, presenting the final product to the master instructor for the delicate, final firing and polishing process. They set a firm date for Haru to return and pick up the completed item, and Haru left the studio feeling a profound sense of accomplishment.
To cool off, he stopped by a small parlor for some ice cream, savoring the sweet, cold contrast against the afternoon heat, before catching another ride toward a bustling, traditional market.
Alice was already waiting for him near one of the entrance canopies, waving cheerfully when she spotted his tall, masked figure. Haru smiled beneath his mask; he genuinely loved being around Alice. She was an incredibly chill, grounded person who managed to be tons of fun without ever draining his social battery. She wasn't judgmental in the slightest. While she certainly loved to tease him about his, whirlwind relationship with a certain someone , she never crossed the line into making him feel uncomfortable or cornered. She just got him.
"Alright," Alice teased, nudging his shoulder as they plunged into the crowded, vibrant lanes of the market. "Let's get you ready for this getaway."
They spent the next few hours doing a bit of casual shopping for his upcoming vacation, purposely avoiding high-end malls in favor of hidden gem thrift shops. They laughed over ridiculous vintage sunglasses, combed through racks of oversized sweaters, and thoroughly enjoyed the day by gorging themselves on greasy, delicious street food hotteok, tteokbokki, and crispy mandu.
Haru had specifically wanted to come to this traditional market in hopes of finding unique, vintage items. He found himself drawn to things that carried a history, things that served as tangible anchors to remind him of the past and, in a way, of his true self as Sunghoon.
While digging through a box of old electronics in a dusty corner shop, his eyes landed on a beautifully preserved, mechanical vintage camera. It felt heavy and solid in his hands. He bought it immediately, thinking it would be absolutely perfect for capturing candid, timeless moments when he and Jae-wook went on vacations. Holding the camera, a sudden, poignant warmth bloomed in his chest. He found himself genuinely wishing, wanting, and hoping to go on many, many more trips with him. He wanted a future filled with these quiet escapes. It was a terrifyingly beautiful realization; he had never felt this kind of profound, lingering depth in any of his previous, past-life relationships.
Alongside the camera, he picked up an old, functional Walkman and a handful of classic cassette tapes, feeling a nostalgic thrill at the tactile click of the plastic buttons.
He knew he only had a few more mandatory schedules over the next few days before he was finally free to meet Jae-wook in Jeju for their highly anticipated, short vacation.
To say Haru was missing him at this point would be a massive understatement. The distance felt like a physical ache in his ribs. He just wanted to hold him, to bury his face in the crook of Jae-wook's neck, and simply exist together inside their small, quiet little bubble before the storm of his career got any crazier.
Haru was still fiercely determined to make it big in this lifetime. He had a burning ambition inside him, and because he had already successfully climbed to the absolute peak of the entertainment industry in his past life, he knew exactly what it would demand of him. It would take up a monumental amount of his time, occupying his thoughts, his days, and tearing into his nights. He knew the sacrifices required, and yet, he wanted it all over again. Even being born anew, he didn't think he would ever choose any other path than the stage. The only difference now, the most beautiful, unexpected difference, was that he wasn't doing it alone.
He had someone. A fierce, brilliant man he never could have imagined himself falling for in a million years, let alone being in this kind of intense, consuming situation with. But as he walked through the crowded market, Haru realized with absolute clarity that he didn't regret a single second of it. He loved him. Truly, deeply loved him. Whenever he saw Jae-wook's face, his heart literally danced against his ribs. Whenever he heard that low, raspy, gravelly voice over the phone, a wave of profound calmness washed over his soul, anchoring him to the present.
He wanted to have him, to hold him, over and over again, so intensely that the sheer emotion felt like a high. Some people around them might whisper that they had gotten together far too quickly, that the momentum was reckless. But Haru didn't want to waste a single fleeting second of this second chance. Especially with how abruptly and tragically everything had ended before, he refused to miss out on happiness out of fear or arbitrary societal timelines.
Beyond his romantic life, Haru's mind also drifted toward his family. He was intensely focused on helping Mae-rin achieve her ultimate dream. In his past life, he hadn't been there to support her, to watch her grow into this fierce, amazing, capable woman. He had missed it all. But he was overwhelmingly happy to be here for her now, quietly backing her, executing her vision, and ensuring her success, even if she never discovered the true identity of the soul inhabiting him .
He was equally grateful for the chance to see his little niece. Whenever he found even a meager ten-minute window in his schedule, he would drop by just to see her bright smile, completely spoiling the little girl with a ridiculous assortment of toys and clothes.
Financially, his recent check from the major franchise project had been incredibly significant. As of this exact moment, he couldn't legally claim he was completely set for life or multi-generationally stable, but he was comfortably far from struggling. A significant portion of his money had actually gone straight into funding the premium go-bags for his first fanmeeting. He had fiercely refused to hand out cheap, tacky promotional trinkets. Even as Sunghoon, his pride and his deep, unyielding gratitude for the fans meant that everything bearing his name had to be of the absolute highest quality.
"Hey, since we're right by the children's clothing stall, let's look for something for the little one," Alice suggested, pointing toward a display of adorable, tiny winter coats.
Haru nodded warmly. Together, they picked out a few beautifully crafted items and small toys for his niece. Since the family's place was directly on Alice's commute back to her own neighborhood, Haru handed the bags to her with a grateful smile, thanking her for offering to drop them off on his behalf.
As Alice waved goodbye and disappeared into the subway station, Haru adjusted his mask against the cool evening air. He turned back toward the direction of his apartment.