Chapter 36
The dining table, a massive slab of polished obsidian, played host to a dinner that was as quiet as it was revealing. The clink of the chopsticks against porcelain was the only rhythmic consistency in the room. The awkwardness from their earlier proximity hadn't entirely vanished; instead, it had settled into a low-frequency hum.
Raiven poked at his salad. "Are you planning a party for your birthday?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence with a sudden, casual curiosity.
Haru paused, a piece of braised beef halfway to his mouth. He hadn't given much thought to his birth date in this new body. In the 90s, birthdays were often spent on loud, smoke-filled sets or with his family "No," Haru answered, his tone grounded. "I'll probably just go to a restaurant with Se-hee. Keep it simple."
Raiven nodded, shifting a cherry tomato across his plate.
"Do you want to join us?" Haru asked. The invitation slipped out before he could second guess it.
Raiven looked up, his expression unreadable under the recessed lighting. "I won't be in the country."
"Oh." Haru didn't mean for the disappointment to color his voice, but it did - a small, grey tint of sadness that made him look back down at his plate. "When are you traveling?"
"The day after tomorrow," Raiven said. He didn't return to his food; instead, he watched Haru, who was now busying himself by poking at a stray grain of rice.
Haru offered a small, resilient smile. "Well, we can just meet after you come back. It's not like the world is ending."
He looked up to find Raiven already staring at him. Their eyes locked - a split second of high-voltage connection that made Haru's heart stutter in his chest, a physical reminder of the heat from the couch earlier. They both broke the gaze at the same time, suddenly very interested in their respective water glasses.
"When do you start filming?" Raiven asked, his voice slightly more formal.
"Next week," Haru said, grateful for the pivot.
"They'll probably announce the full cast soon. Alice said the marketing push is going to be aggressive."
They finished the meal in a more comfortable silence. They cleared the table before settling back onto the expansive couch.
The peace was broken by the sharp, melodic trill of Haru's phone.
"Hello?" Haru answered, leaning back.
"Do I have to find out where my own roommate is from the Internet?" Se-hee's voice practically shrieked through the speaker, her tone a mix of mock-indignation and genuine excitement.
"Internet?" Haru asked, confused.
"Did you really think you could go out to Gwangjang Market with the nation's most recognizable face and no one would notice?" Se-hee laughed, the sound of her typing rapidly audible in the background.
Haru looked over at Raiven. The idol was leaning back with his tablet, seemingly engrossed in a digital setlist. A wave of guilt washed over Haru. He had been so caught up in the "experience" of showing Raiven the real world that he'd forgotten the reality of the era: everyone had a camera.
The last time they were photographed together, it had spun into a mess of misunderstanding. He didn't want Raiven to think he'd orchestrated the outing for clout.
"Sorry," Haru murmured into the phone, his eyes fixed on his knees.
Se-hee chirped changing the topic. " Anyway, did you have fun at the party last night?"
"Yeah, it was... an experience," Haru said, shifting his position. He could feel Raiven's gaze on him now - heavy and expectant.
"I'm glad. I have to go, my rendering just crashed and I might throw this laptop out the window. See you when you get home!" She hung up before he could respond.
Haru leaned back, the blue light of the television illuminating the room. He spent the next few hours "researching" - watching modern dramas to dissect the subtle, naturalistic acting style of the era. He wanted to give his absolute best for Mae-rin. He knew the stakes for the company, and his pride wouldn't allow him to be the weak link in the production.
Eventually, the long hours and the lingering effects of the previous night caught up to him. His eyelids grew heavy during a particularly slow scene in a legal drama.
He woke briefly as he felt his weight being shifted. The world was a blur of cedar-scented cologne and soft fabric. A heavy, warm blanket was spread over him, tucked gently around his shoulders. He let out a soft, unconscious smile, sinking into the warmth.
Through the haze of sleep, he heard a whisper, so low it might have been a dream.
"Stop making me get used to you."
The following morning, Haru woke to the clinical brightness of the penthouse. He was sprawled across the couch in a way that would have horrified his younger, more disciplined self - one leg draped over the backrest, the other dangling off the edge, the blanket a tangled mess on the floor.
He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His phone buzzed on the coffee table.
"Sorry, had to go to practice," the message read, sent at 5:14 AM.
Haru stretched, the silence of the apartment feeling suddenly hollow. He cleaned the kitchen, showered, and changed into the fresh clothes Raiven had left out for him. Looking in the mirror, wearing another one of Raiven's high-end hoodies, he couldn't help but chuckle. "My closet is really just going to be an extension of his at this rate."
He left a short thank-you note on the counter and headed back to his own life.
His apartment was quiet; Se-hee was out filming a "Day in the Life" vlog. He spent the day in a cocoon of scripts and research. When Se-hee returned that evening, she ruthlessly teased him.
Raiven and Haru messaged for a while ending the message with haru wishing him a good flight.
The next day, Haru watched a livestream with sehee. The airport was a sea of flashing lights and screaming fans as Raiven departed. Amidst the chaos of the broadcast, Haru saw Raiven move through the crowd - masked, shielded, and distant. He smiled unknowingly at the screen, a look Se-hee caught from the corner of her eye. She masked her own knowing grin behind a handful of chips.
They spent the afternoon working on Se-hee's content. Haru helped her film short clips, even performing a 90s-style dance move that made her howl with laughter before she settled down to edit.
Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from the living room. Haru dropped his script, rushing out to find Se-hee vibrating with excitement, pointing at her laptop.
"It's the cast announcement! It's live!"
Haru leaned in. He hadn't expected much; he was a supporting character, a "newcomer" in the eyes of the public. Usually, the press releases only featured the leads. But there he was ,a solo promotional still of him his character, looking sharp and enigmatic. The director had clearly been so impressed that he'd pushed for Haru to be featured as a "Key Supporting Player."
Se-hee's fingers flew across her keyboard, sharing the post to her hundreds of thousands of followers.
Haru stared at the image. In his previous life, it had taken years to get this kind of visibility. The digital age was terrifying, but as he saw the congratulatory message from Hae-rin pop up on his screen, he realized that for the first time in thirty years, the world would finally see him again.
Haru looked at the picture of himself - the man named Haru with the soul of Sunghoon - and for the first time, the two identities felt like they were finally beginning to merge.