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“Oh my god, I just remembered! That’s the director from ‘Who Am I’!”
“No way! You’re right, now that you mention it. Is Oppa doing a drama with him? Isn’t that director super famous?”
“Of course, he is! He’s the director of ‘Illogical’.”
“This is incredible…”
The entire fan signing venue buzzed with excitement. Oh Munseong, who had been looking around with visibly surprised eyes, offered a faint smile.
It seemed he didn’t entirely dislike the sight of his fans stirred into a frenzy by the news of his next project.
‘He came all this way and put on a show just for this,’ Seungjun thought. ‘And he even dragged me along.’
“Number two, please step up.”
A security guard called Seungjun. Though he wasn’t mentally prepared, he had no choice but to get Oh Munseong’s autograph.
Seungjun forced a smile and raised his head. From the other side, Nam Yiwon stood watching, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
****
[PD Baek Seungjun! Be happy..^^]
When Seungjun arrived on the other side, clutching Oh Munseong’s scrawled autograph, he found yet another ordeal awaiting him. He had expected peace, but instead, Nam Yiwon was answering questions from the people surrounding him.
Among them, some were filming Nam Yiwon or asking for his autograph.
“Ah, Senior. You’re here?”
Nam Yiwon signed an autograph for someone shouting, ‘I enjoyed ‘Who Am I’!’, then turned to Seungjun. A quick glance showed Nam Yiwon’s autograph stretching out boldly and flamboyantly, both horizontally and vertically.
His signature was even more extravagant than the actor Oh Munseong’s, an absurd display of his self-importance.
“Why are you sitting here giving out autographs?”
“The actor Oh Munseong’s signing event won’t be over for another two hours. Would you like to do some shopping with me? I happen to have something to buy.”
As Oh Munseong’s name slipped carelessly from Nam Yiwon’s lips, the fans immediately began to barrage them with questions.
“Is actor Oh Munseong doing a drama? What’s Oppa’s next project about?”
To escape the crowd, which was pressing in like a swarm of reporters, Seungjun tugged on Nam Yiwon’s arm.
“Let’s go.”
“Are you coming shopping with me?”
“Just come on, hurry up!”
‘I need to get out of here right now.’ Seungjun linked his arm through Nam Yiwon’s, holding him firmly, and quickly strode away from the spot.
****
Nam Yiwon’s definition of ‘having something to buy’ was vastly different from Seungjun’s.
For Seungjun, saying ‘I have something to buy and will go shopping’ usually meant his old sneakers were worn out and he needed new ones. It might also mean needing new clothes for a change of season, buying a gift for a sibling who got a job, or facing a weekend with an empty refrigerator.
Nam Yiwon, who ‘happened to have something to buy,’ arrived at a department store’s VIP room. He was wearing a suit plastered with Gucci logos.
‘What the hell is this situation?’ Seungjun thought. ‘Surely he doesn’t plan to make me sit here and watch him luxury shop?’
Seungjun chuckled to himself. Anyone seeing him, laughing with two Oh Munseong autographs in his hands—one of which Nam Yiwon had thrust upon him—would surely think he had lost his mind.
“So, you came with a whole itinerary, Director Nam?”
“One must be efficient, after all.”
Nam Yiwon smiled brightly and settled onto a sofa. He looked utterly at ease, as if this space—filled with sculptures fit for an exhibition, brilliant lighting, lavish furniture, and an abundance of clearly high-end clothes and accessories—were his own home.
Soon, an employee appeared and began assisting with the shopping, praising Nam Yiwon’s fashion sense and introducing new arrivals. It seemed they knew Nam Yiwon well, as the employee only brought out and recommended attention-grabbing styles that he would undoubtedly adore.
Seungjun flopped onto the sofa and let out a hollow laugh. Shopping in a private room, complete with neat refreshments and champagne?
There had been a scene like this in a drama he’d briefly helped edit. While Nam Yiwon was choosing a shirt, Seungjun had already finished a glass of champagne.
“This is one of only five in the entire country.”
“Hmm. Senior, how about this?”
While emptying even Nam Yiwon’s glass, since Nam Yiwon had to drive, Seungjun heard his name. Nam Yiwon held a shirt up to his body, seeking an opinion.
When Seungjun merely stared indifferently, Nam Yiwon turned his body this way and that, showing off the shirt from various angles. Seungjun raised the corner of his mouth and asked.
“Am I your personal stylist or something?”
“You’re just killing time anyway. There’s no real difference between sitting in a cafe and sitting here drinking champagne. How about this one?”
Seungjun would rather sit in a bustling cafe listening to music than act as Nam Yiwon’s errand boy. He popped a minuscule refreshment into his mouth and said, “You prefer bestsellers over limited editions, don’t you? Ask for the most popular one.”
“Please pick one from here.”
“That second polka-dot shirt over there.”
‘It’s not polka dots, it’s an oblique pattern,’ the employee muttered softly. Seungjun, however, paid no heed, engrossed in eating his refreshments.
Nam Yiwon took the shirt and disappeared into the fitting room.
It was nice not having Nam Yiwon in sight. Seungjun leaned back against the plush sofa, recalling a drama he had seen while editing.
The scene where the chaebol male lead brought the poor female lead shopping was exactly in a place like this. The female lead, struggling to pay hospital bills, wore the same clothes every day.
The male lead, using ‘contract dating’ as an excuse, would dress her up in luxury brands. He’d spout annoying lines about needing to meet a minimum standard for a contract relationship.
But the moment the stunningly dressed female lead emerged from the fitting room, soft background music would play, and his eyes would widen in awe.
It was a cliché repeated dozens, even hundreds of times, but reality was rarely so accommodating.
Nam Yiwon, who possessed the exact specifications of a rom-com male lead, was too busy adorning himself to care about any woman he might like.
Seungjun scoffed, chewing down the last refreshment. Just then, Nam Yiwon emerged, having changed into a new shirt.
The flowing fit of the shirt revealed his broad shoulders and chest muscles nicely; it wasn’t bad at all. His hands, resting as an employee adjusted his sleeves, were neat and fair.
Seungjun gazed intently at those tidy hands, a thought occurring to him.
‘Come to think of it, those hands weren’t just used for slapping someone once or twice,’ Seungjun mused. ‘Is he good at fighting too?’
“How is it?”
“It’s fine. Buy that one.”
Startled by Nam Yiwon’s voice, Seungjun gave a half-hearted answer. Thinking that picking one item would be the end of it, Seungjun’s words were met with Nam Yiwon’s pleasant smile.
He then held up a tie, trying it against himself, and asked again.
“How about this?”
“It’s fine.”
“Do these shoes go with it?”
“Yeah.”
“Which color is better between these two?”
“Red.”
“Shall I try this on?”
‘Why is he asking me?’ Seungjun thought, nodding absently. Nam Yiwon then picked up a suit and headed into the fitting room.
‘He’s not just buying one thing; he’s getting a whole set,’ Seungjun realized. ‘He’s just picking out whatever catches his eye, completely on impulse. He said he ‘happened to have something to buy,’ but it was probably just an excuse to annoy Baek Seungjun while he was here.’
Seungjun was starting to get annoyed. Just then, Nam Yiwon walked out of the fitting room, completely changed from head to toe.
“……”
Seungjun’s gaze slowly traveled upwards, tracing the long legs to the rest of the outfit. What had looked like a simple red suit on the hanger now appeared a deeper, autumnal shade, perhaps due to Nam Yiwon’s skin tone.
The pale blue shirt, which seemed like it wouldn’t match red at all, harmonized perfectly with Nam Yiwon’s fair skin. Its slight sheen also complemented the suit’s tone well.
The sleeves and trouser cuffs fell perfectly, embracing his torso and legs as if tailored specifically for him. Seungjun had never examined his body this closely before, his eyes usually stopping at Nam Yiwon’s irksome face.
He truly had a mannequin-like physique. Not that it was Seungjun’s taste.
As Seungjun’s gaze slid between the three or four unbuttoned buttons, Nam Yiwon inhaled. Slowly, his shirt tightened, and his chest expanded. Then his chest—no, Nam Yiwon spoke.
“How is it?”
“…Huh?”
Seungjun, who had been staring blankly, flinched and lifted his eyes. While he acknowledged that clothes could make a person, seeing Nam Yiwon’s face made him want to tear off every single ‘wing’ of clothing.
Seungjun set his champagne glass down on Oh Munseong’s autograph. He had endured enough.
“Buy that one too. Let’s go now.”
“Does it suit me?”
“It’s better than that other one.”
Seungjun gestured with his chin towards the suit, a Gucci pattern or perhaps a Magic Eye puzzle, he couldn’t tell. Although it wasn’t exactly a compliment, Nam Yiwon spun around lightly and began gathering all the clothes Seungjun had deemed ‘fine,’ piling them onto the sofa.
Since Seungjun had mechanically answered ‘it suits you’ to every question, a considerable stack of clothes had accumulated. Not content with that, Nam Yiwon picked up another scarf.
“It’s tacky.”
With the intention of cutting him off right there, Seungjun stated coldly. Nam Yiwon asked back, looking slightly crestfallen, “Tacky?”
“Excuse me, is there no time limit here? He hasn’t rented out this place for the whole day, has he?”
“Let’s go now. I’ll take all of this. Except for the scarf.”
As Seungjun grumbled, even involving the employee, Nam Yiwon finally prepared to conclude his shopping. The employee, who had been fidgeting nervously as the expensive clothes were carelessly piled, visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
It was amusing that Nam Yiwon chose to omit the very scarf Seungjun had called tacky. As if the opinion of someone who knew nothing about fashion was trustworthy.