Episode 7
“Hyung, are you really okay? If it’s too hard, we can still turn the car around.”
If any company staff had overheard that, they might have grabbed Gwang-hyeon by the collar — but he was sincere.
On the surface, his actor looked completely normal, yet after years of working together, Gwang-hyeon could tell that something about In-hyuk had changed lately.
“I’m fine,” In-hyuk answered calmly, eyes still closed.
Gwang-hyeon sighed.
“You should take a break sometimes. Why start another project right away — and as a replacement for that actor who got kicked off for drunk driving?”
He thought back to the night of Director Min’s party.
Min Sang-cheol was the director who had discovered In-hyuk as a child actor and led his debut film to multiple awards.
Though In-hyuk hated parties, he couldn’t refuse the invitation from a man like that.
“Have fun, !”
That night, Gwang-hyeon had cheerfully waved him off. His trust in his actor — someone who’d never once caused trouble — was absolute.
But before sunrise, a short phone call shattered that calm.
“Come to the building from last night… Room L.
I’m not feeling well.”
It was rare for In-hyuk to call his manager off schedule, let alone in the early morning — and then came the strange part.
“And… bring a spare pair of pants.”
“Pants? Why?”
“…They got stolen.”
Disheveled and panicked, Gwang-hyeon raced to Apgujeong.
Before he could even grasp the situation, a hand slipped through the cracked door, snatched the pants, and shut the door again.
Moments later, In-hyuk emerged — limping slightly, his clothes disordered.
When Gwang-hyeon checked the room, the inside was a mess, as if there had been a fight. The pants were nowhere to be found.
“Hyung, did you get into a fight?”
In-hyeok said nothing, not even as they left the building.
Gwang-hyeon scrolled through the news in panic — nothing seemed to have leaked, only the studio’s promotional articles.
“It’s not a stalker again, right?”
Who else would steal someone’s pants? Even stalkers didn’t usually go that far.
But all In-hyuk would say was that his body “felt strange,” and Gwang-hyeon didn’t have time to think about the missing pants anymore.
“Should we go to the hospital?”
In-hyuk quietly shook his head. Whatever was wrong with him — it wasn’t something a doctor could fix.
If anything, it felt like something that had long been blocked inside him had finally been set free.
He refused the hospital, and after insisting he was fine, Gwang-hyeon finally dropped him off at home.
In-hyuk stayed inside for two days straight, missing all his schedules.
Then, the next time they met for work, trouble struck again.
Gwang-hyeon went to fetch the car — and came back to find In-hyuk had been attacked in the parking garage.
“The CCTV didn’t catch much — he hid in a blind spot,” Gwang-hyeon said, furious.
“He escaped again, but I swear it’s the same guy from Apgujeong. Same shoes, same build!”
He handed the tablet over his shoulder.
The blurry screenshot showed a man running away with something on his head — something that looked unmistakably like a pair of pants.
Gwang-hyeon was livid.
“He’s insane! A total psycho stalker.”
But In-hyuk just stared at the image, oddly calm.
“…He was handsome.”
“What?! Hyung!”
Gwang-hyeon nearly swerved the car. In-hyuk, however, continued in a distant tone:
“His eyes were sharp, but round at the same time.
And… there was this smell. Like strawberries.”
Gwang-hyeon could only gape. The same man who once took a month to remember his own manager’s face was suddenly describing his attacker in vivid detail.
“Hyung… you couldn’t even remember my face for weeks,”
he muttered, half hurt, half bewildered.
But In-hyeok’s thoughts had drifted elsewhere. He remembered that night — not clearly, but through sensations: warmth, pressure, the hazy scent of alcohol and fruit.
He remembered being unable to resist, confused by the unfamiliar rush that took over his body.
He’d never felt desire before — but that night, something in him had broken open.
Still, he said nothing.
“If that guy’s a stalker,” he thought, “I’ll have to catch him myself.”
Gwang-hyeon slammed a fist on the wheel.
“I’ll make sure he never comes near you again.
The next shoot’s location is secure — we’ll be safe there.”
When they arrived, In-hyeok told him quietly,
“I’ll take a short nap here. Check the waiting room.”
Trusting that his actor just needed rest, Gwang-hyeon stepped out to meet the crew.
The moment the door shut, In-hyuk exhaled a shaky breath and rubbed his face.
“Haah…”
He couldn’t shake the memories — or the unwanted reactions his body kept giving him ever since that night.
It was like a switch had been flipped, and now he couldn’t turn it off.
“What’s wrong with me…”
He frowned, glancing between the CCTV image and his reflection, a strange unease twisting in his chest.
