The shoot for <Our Hospital> had been scheduled three months earlier.
It was to be Park Song-hu's first step back after his period of lying low.
The problem was Park Song-hu himself.
‘What if I lose my temper?’
He knew it himself, if he was honest.
When something upset him, it showed on his face. He was hot-tempered.
And <Our Hospital> was like a battlefield of ad-libs. If someone threw a joke about the controversy his way, he wasn't confident he could keep his composure.
If he appeared on his comeback broadcast with a sour face, he really would be finished.
No agency could handle that.
So at first, he'd considered canceling the shoot.
He was about to call the CEO, then hesitated.
Without meaning to, he started calculating the cancellation penalty.
Things were already bad enough, and all his advertising deals had fallen through…….
Then he started feeling ill, too.
At first, his lower back felt stiff. Before long, pain began stabbing at his side as well.
And that day, while relieving himself in the bathroom, Park Song-hu experienced hell…….
-Aaaaaaargh!
With tears in his eyes, he went straight to the hospital.
-You have a urinary tract stone. It's rather large, so I don't think it will pass on its own.
A urinary tract stone.
A stone was lodged in the path his urine took out of his body.
‘F*ck.’
He needed surgery and time to recover afterward.
Security was the reason he'd chosen a special VIP Room.
What if word got out that an actor whose image mattered had been hospitalized because his urethra was blocked?
It was horrifying.
So he hadn't even registered under his real name.
He used a fake name with the surname Kim.
You could search every chart and never find Park Song-hu's name.
The VIP ward's route from its entrance to the elevator was entirely separate from the one used by ordinary patients. Having the dedicated nurse sign a nondisclosure agreement was a matter of course.
The plan was to undergo surgery quietly, recover quietly, and leave quietly.
Fortunately, the surgery went well.
The stone was completely removed.
The problem was the stent inserted into his side after surgery.
Every time he urinated, it felt as though his bladder were being wrung out. Even lying still, he felt a heavy pressure on his lower abdomen.
On top of that, the painkillers left his head foggy, and his irritation felt ready to break through the ceiling.
‘Go on a variety show like this? I have enough trouble normally, and now I'm even more on edge.’
One night, as he lay in bed steeped in painkillers and irritation, someone suddenly came to mind.
His younger twin brother.
The same face.
‘……Should I ask him?’
He knew it was crazy.
He knew he had no conscience even thinking it.
Still, it seemed better than going himself and causing an incident on air.
The problem was how to ask.
‘He'd never agree if I just asked him.’
They'd lived as strangers since they were separated at six.
He'd sent his brother some spending money now and then, but that was the extent of what he'd done as an older brother.
Besides, wasn't Park Song-min the sort of guy who stayed shut up in his room?
Nine times out of ten, he'd refuse.
In the end, an idea occurred to him.
‘Should I tell him I'm terminally ill?’
And that was how it had happened.
“I've been discharged.”
“?”
“But what are you doing back there?”
Park Song-min rose stiffly from behind the cat tower.
His mouth hung open.
“Oh, don't tell me…… you decided to stop treatment? Because there's no point anymore…….”
“No. I was cured and discharged.”
“……Cured? You told me you had terminal pancreatic cancer and were going to die…….”
Park Song-hu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
Ah, where should he start?
“I don't actually have pancreatic cancer.”
“…….”
“And I'm not terminally ill. It was a urinary tract stone.”
“……A urinary tract stone?”
“Yeah.”
“Th-then everything I've done until now, the variety show and the interview, all of it…….”
“I'll explain everything.”
There was no need to draw it out.
He quickly began laying out the situation…….
“Y-you crazy bastard!”
……but before he could finish, Park Song-min lost control and shouted.
“Are you even human? Huh? How could you tell a lie like that?!”
“…….”
Park Song-hu approached him in silence.
Then he raised a hand.
Park Song-min squeaked, “Eek!” and covered his face with both hands.
An instinctive defensive posture.
TAP—
But Park Song-hu wasn't going to hit him.
He placed his index and middle fingers lightly against Park Song-min's forehead and said:
“Forgive me, Park Song-min.”
“……You're not even dying. Don't act like Itachi.”
“…….”
Park Song-hu coughed awkwardly and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Pat, pat-
“This time…… yeah. I'm sorry.”
“…….”
“I mean it.”
Park Song-min kept his defensive posture, looking at Park Song-hu through the gap between his arms.
He slowly lowered them and spoke.
“……No wonder the braised short ribs were dripping with fat for a terminal cancer patient.”
“Hey, I ordered those separately for you.”
“Don't make me laugh! You Fucking Liar!”
“Wow, a taste of American water and English comes spilling out the moment you get worked up. But that's enough.”
“……Oh. Yes.”
Just then…….
“Meooow.”
Louie hopped lightly down from the cat tower.
Louie padded across the hardwood floor, tap, tap, tap, and reached the front of the sofa.
But they weren't headed for Park Song-min.
They went to Park Song-hu.
Louie sniffed around Park Song-hu’s feet, then rubbed their head against his calf.
They even let out a low purr.
“Louie……?”
Shock washed over Park Song-min's face.
Louie was a standoffish cat.
When Park Song-min had first brought Louie home, the cat had spent more than a month hiding under the bed.
But now Louie was behaving like this with Park Song-hu, whom they’d never met before? Why?
“L-Louie?”
Louie only twitched an ear. Then they went so far as to place their front paws on Park Song-hu’s knee and stretch out their neck.
“Meow…….”
……Louie was even acting affectionate!
“Is Louie always like this?”
“N-no, Louie never acts like this…….”
Park Song-min felt something even stronger than the anger of being deceived rise up in him.
You traitor!
“Louie! Come here! Louie! Let's have a treat!”
Still, Louie barely reacted.
“Louie!!!”
Park Song-min cried out in despair.
Park Song-hu gave a small laugh.
“Looks like Louie likes me more than you.”
“……Get out!”
“This is my place.”
“Oh…….”
Right.
“Wait, then what happens now? ……Where am I going to live?”
His voice suddenly grew small and wheedling.
“Hey.”
“……Yes?”
Park Song-hu lowered his eyes steadily and stroked Louie as he continued.
“Let's live together from now on.”
***
War broke out on their first day living together.
The first thing Park Song-min did was turn off every light in the apartment.
The living room, hallway, entryway, bathroom.
He even stared into the refrigerator for ages, trying to figure out if there was a way to turn off its light, before finally giving up.
“Hey.”
Park Song-hu picked up the remote from the sofa.
“Why are you turning off all the lights?”
“Do you know how much the electric bill is?”
“No.”
“…….”
He meant it.
As a top star, Park Song-hu had never thought about the electric bill.
“Do you know what electricity costs in a luxury apartment in Gangnam? I used to live in a studio apartment, you know? I wouldn't even turn on my electric blanket in the middle of winter because I was afraid the bill would go over ten thousand won!”
“That's your problem. This is my place.”
“You said you were leaving it to me!”
“That was the final touch to the lie.”
“…….”
“I mean, think about it. If I'm not terminally ill, how can I leave you my house? It's impossible.”
“You deadass said that to my face, bruh!”
Park Song-min had lived in a slum, so his English had a slang-inflected accent.
“Want to die? What the hell are you saying?”
“E-eek! N-nothing!”
Apparently, Park Song-hu hadn't understood a word because of the accent.
Beside him, Louie had curled up like a doughnut on Park Song-hu's lap.
Their purrs filled the entire living room.
“……Louie.”
Park Song-min called out in a feeble voice.
Louie's ears turned slightly, then went back to their original position.
“Louie, come here.”
The tip of Louie’s tail flicked once.
In Louie's language, that meant, ‘I can't be bothered, so stop calling me.’
A language only their cat butler could decipher.
“I'm the one who fed you and gave you treats. I'm the one who cleaned up when you threw up at dawn…….”
Park Song-hu scratched under Louie's chin.
Louie tilted their head, stretched out their neck, and asked for more.
“Where in the world is there such an ungrateful cat?”
Park Song-min's voice sagged.
Park Song-hu said nothing. He just stroked Louie and snorted.
Their daily rhythms were complete opposites.
Park Song-min went to bed at five in the morning and woke at one in the afternoon. Park Song-hu went to bed at eleven at night and woke at seven in the morning.
At three in the morning, the sound of Park Song-min's typing carried down the hall into Park Song-hu's room.
CLACKCLACKCLACKCLACK!
CLACKCLACK!
CLACKCLACKCLACKCLACKCLACK!
It was the soundtrack to writing a web novel.
The next morning, Park Song-hu appeared with dark circles under his eyes.
“Hey.”
“……Yes?”
“Keep the typing noise down at night. If you don't want to die, I mean it.”
“Oh, um, I'm sorry. But my chapter deadline…….”
“Change your keyboard. Get a quiet one.”
Park Song-min's eyes widened.
“Quiet keyboards are expensive.”
“How much?”
“A-an expensive one is around a hundred thousand won?”
“You call that money?”
“A hundred thousand won buys four hundred packs of ramen!”
Park Song-hu looked at him as though he were pathetic.
But Park Song-min was serious.
Four hundred packs of ramen would feed him for roughly six months.
“I'll buy it for you.”
“Really?”
“In return, no keyboard noise in the middle of the night.”
“……Okay!”
About a week later…….
BUZZ—
Park Song-hu's phone rang.
-Brother, we heard from the producer of <Hwain>! They're offering you a cameo in the final episode!
“A cameo?”
-Yes! An interrogation room scene, with two or three lines, I think?
Park Song-hu frowned.
“A cameo…….”
Honestly, his pride was hurt.
He was someone who used to be cast in lead roles, and now they wanted him for a cameo.
The two or three lines stung too.
Wasn't that practically an extra?
‘Still.’
It might be different with another drama, but this was <Hwain>.
Ratings would probably rise even higher for the final episode.
He figured showing his face in a production like this early in his comeback wouldn't be bad.
“When's the shoot?”
-Next Thursday.
“Send me the script.”
-Yes, sir!
When the call ended, Park Song-min was peeking at him over his laptop from the other end of the sofa.
The script arrived the next day.
Park Song-hu spread the printout across the living room table.
An interrogation room.
A detective opens the door and enters.
A man sits in a chair.
The man they thought was dead.
He raises his head and says:
“I've been waiting.”
Then the detective asks something.
“From the beginning, all of it.”
That was it.
Two lines.
“It really is just two lines.”
Park Song-hu set down the script and muttered to himself.
“Looks easy.”
He had no idea that his confidence would be shattered an hour later.
“I've been waiting.”
Park Song-hu delivered the line.
He was sitting at an angle against the sofa, reading with Park Song-min opposite him as the detective.
“…….”
Park Song-min said nothing.
“Hey, you're the detective. Say your line.”
“Oh, right! ……Since when?”
“From the beginning, all of it.”
Park Song-hu finished his line.
The problem was that the ‘finish’ felt so flat.
There was no weight to the words.
It was no different from reading the script aloud.
“Again.”
Park Song-hu cleared his throat.
“I've been waiting.”
He lowered his voice more than before.
He seemed to be trying to set a mood, but instead he sounded like a man with a cold.
“From the beginning, all of it.”
He raised his chin slightly in an attempt to look cool, but landed on that peculiar, oily angle again.
The very angle people had mocked in his old dramas.
“…….”
Park Song-min pressed his lips together.
He knew he shouldn't say anything.
The moment he said something about his brother's acting, he might vanish from this world.
But he couldn't hold back.
“Brother.”
“What?”
“Well…….”
He swallowed hard.
“I really can't watch this.”
“…….”
The air grew cold.
Park Song-min's survival instincts sounded an alarm.
“E-eek! N-no, I mean! It's just my personal opinion! You are doing well, but just a little……!”
“Then what should I do?”
That wasn't the response he'd expected.
Park Song-hu was asking him.
“Well, um…… In the context of the script, the person saying ‘I've been waiting’ was thought dead, but he's alive, right?”
“Right.”
“So he must have been preparing something while he was in hiding. Revenge, or an exposé. When he says ‘I've been waiting,’ he doesn't simply mean he was waiting for someone…….”
“…….”
“He means he was waiting for this moment. A long time. A very long time.”
Park Song-hu folded his arms.
“But right now, you just say ‘I've been waiting’ and stop. There's no feeling behind it, so it sounds like you're reading the script.”
“Phew…….”
Park Song-hu tried again.
“I've been waiting.”
He tensed his eyes in an attempt to put emotion into them, but his eyes were the problem again.
He only looked threatening.
Instead of an interrogation room, it felt like a loan shark's office.
“One more time.”
“I've been waiting.”
This time, he seemed to be trying to relax his expression. It went blank.
Now he looked sleepy.
“…….”
Park Song-hu swept back his hair in frustration.
“F*ck, why isn't this working?”
It was the typical response of a stubborn, proud man running into a wall.
He seemed frustrated that he couldn't even get two or three lines right.
“……Brother, wait a moment.”
Park Song-min carefully took the script.
He began writing something on a blank sheet of paper.
“I'll write out why this character was in hiding. The script doesn't say why he pretended to be dead or what he's felt all this time.”
“What are you doing?”
“A character backstory. If you keep it in mind when you speak, the emotion will follow.”
“……How do you know that?”
“I-it's what I do all the time when I write novels.”
His pen moved quickly.
After a while, Park Song-min handed over the note.
“……You want me to think about this while I speak?”
“Yes. But don't try to force the emotion. Just imagine you're in this situation.”
Park Song-hu picked up the script again.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
Just as he was about to speak, Park Song-min murmured first:
“I've been waiting.”
The words came without conscious thought.
The backstory he'd just written was running through his mind, and its emotion had simply risen to his lips.
“From the beginning, all of it.”
His voice settled low, almost a murmur.
It wasn't loud, but somehow it pressed down on the air.
“……?”
The hand holding the script slowly lowered.
Park Song-hu looked at Park Song-min.