Episode 71

 

To Haeun, that comment felt like just the right level of criticism. The fact that Gyowon was slow to reply was undeniable, and it was fair to point that out as a flaw. But since it wasn’t something serious enough to be truly offensive, it was a safe answer to a tricky question—honest enough to be credible, but unlikely to stir up any controversy.

But Gyowon looked at him as if he were genuinely shocked, like he’d never even considered the possibility.

“Me?”

His reaction was so surprised that Haeun wondered if maybe it would have been less jarring for him if he had exaggerated something instead. Gyowon pointed to himself with his index finger and asked again,

“I don’t answer messages?”

He looked genuinely puzzled. Could it be he’s not even aware that he replies late? If so, that in itself was pretty surprising to Haeun.

“When?”

Seeing him ask again with that confused face, he started to worry he might have said something wrong. As the awkwardness began to rise, he turned his gaze away from him, deciding not to make eye contact anymore—but just then, one of the cast members spoke up.

“Gyowon’s actually kind of famous for that. Total friendship breaker.”

Friendship breaker? The phrase sounded a bit childish, like the kind of nickname no one would say out loud unless it was on a show. But now he was just curious why he’d earned such a title.

“Me?”

Gyowon repeated again, sounding genuinely confused.

Gyowon briefly looked away from Haeun, then pointed at himself again with his index finger.

“Me?”

This time, Haeun stared directly at him, silently asking with his eyes if that nickname was real. But Gyowon continued to look over at the cast member who had spoken, still wearing a confused expression, offering no real explanation or denial.

“You know the rumor—how everyone says they’re close with Gyowon, but no one’s actually close with him. It’s all over the place.”

Haeun glanced sideways at Gyowon, subtly checking his reaction. He hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn. It felt like things were veering into unfamiliar territory. Sensing his gaze, Gyowon turned his head. When their eyes met, he seemed to notice his hesitation, and gave him a small, reassuring smile, mouthing, “It’s okay.”

“Even Wonseok always brings it up when he’s on a show. Says he thought he was close with Gyowon, but the guy never answers his calls.”

The conversation kept rolling. Haeun didn’t know who this “Wonseok” was, but from the way they were talking, he sounded like someone famous enough that he’d recognize him if he saw his face.

It wasn’t his first time seeing a variety show use this kind of playful “cornering” to get laughs. But still, seeing the arrows aimed directly at Gyowon—who was standing right beside him—was unexpectedly uncomfortable.

“Oh right, yeah! Back when I used to host a radio show, Wonseok came on as a guest once… There was this bit where we were supposed to call someone, and he said, ‘Let’s call actor Kim Gyowon—I’m close with him!’ So I was like, cool, makes sense—they worked on a project together, right? Gyowon, you remember?”

“Yeah, we did,” Gyowon replied, his tone a little vague.

It wasn’t obvious on the surface, but Haeun could sense that something about this situation was bothering him. He’d said he was fine, but maybe he wasn’t actually happy about how this was going? Or maybe he just didn’t clearly remember working with Wonseok?

“But then it rang like… twice? And then it just cut off. It was a video radio show too, so the whole vibe got kind of awkward. After the show, Wonseok was like, ‘Did he block me or something?’—he was so sad about it.”

That line got a big laugh from the rest of the cast, as expected from a variety show. Gyowon leaned forward slightly and laughed along with them, looking a bit sheepish. But he didn’t seem flustered, and didn’t scramble to defend himself or explain. He stayed calm and composed.

Maybe I was the only one feeling awkward, Haeun thought. Maybe everyone else was already on the same page about how this would go.

“What happened? Did you actually block him?”

One of the cast members asked provocatively. Gyowon gave a deliberately cheerful laugh.

“No, no, of course not.”

Haeun tried his best not to let his surprise show on his face. Even if Gyowon was notoriously slow at replying, he wasn’t the type to block someone or deliberately ignore calls. He had never actually tried calling him himself, but he had called him before—so there was that.

He hadn’t expected the conversation to go in this direction at all. Now it felt like his casual comment about his slow replies had turned into an exaggerated accusation.

“Actually, Wonseok hyung mentioned that to me once too.”

“He said he was upset you didn’t pick up?”

“He asked if you deleted his number.”

Wow, that Wonseok guy really holds onto things, Haeun thought.

He himself had just complained about Gyowon’s slow replies on this show, but here he was, thinking about it like it had nothing to do with him. As everyone tried to pick something apart, Gyowon kept his composure and calmly continued.

“It wasn’t anything like that… I told him—I just don’t check my phone that much. His number’s still saved, of course.”

He made a show of pretending to take his phone out of his pocket, like he was ready to prove it right then and there.

If he genuinely didn’t check his phone often, then it made sense—missing calls, slow replies, all of it. Haeun already understood that much.

“Yeah, he really doesn’t check his messages much. And that time, I think I had a schedule, so I probably gave my phone to my manager.”

“Oh, so if a call comes in then, your manager just hangs up for you?”

“Right.”

The mood started to settle again.

There wasn’t much to gain from pushing any further with questions like “You’re lying, right? You blocked him, didn’t you?” And it wasn’t like the story had fallen flat—there’d been laughs. So it seemed like they were getting ready to wrap it up.

“Then how about sending a video message to Wonseok right now?”

Really? Now?

Haeun thought the demand came out of nowhere. But Gyowon responded with total ease. He immediately turned toward the camera, gave a light wave, and started speaking.

“Hyung, you’re watching this, right? Give me a call sometime.”

If someone had suddenly asked Haeun to do something like that, he probably would’ve stammered through it from sheer awkwardness. Watching Gyowon speak as if Wonseok were standing right in front of him—so naturally—was kind of amazing.

“You’ll actually answer next time, right?”

The comment wrapped the story with a laugh.

But now the spotlight was shifting again—this time toward Haeun.

“So, did he also not answer your calls all the time, Haeun?”

“…Uh…”

Haeun, who had stayed quiet until now, scratched his head awkwardly. No matter how he tried to frame it, he couldn’t find a good answer. Gyowon had never not picked up his calls—actually, he’d never even tried calling him in the first place. His situation was clearly different from those people who had said they felt embarrassed after Gyowon ignored their calls despite supposedly being close.

While Haeun hesitated in discomfort, Gyowon was the first to speak.

“When did I ever not take your calls? I’m always the one who calls first.”

The problem was—that just made it even more awkward.

It wasn’t like he called him that often, not enough to be called “always”… but yes, in the few times they had spoken on the phone, it had always been Gyowon who called. So there wasn’t much Haeun could say to counter that.

With an embarrassed tone, he mumbled a response.

“Ah, well… That’s because I thought you might be working, so I didn’t want to bother you by calling first.”

Honestly, there had been times he wanted to just call rather than wait for his slow replies on KakaoTalk. But he always held back, worried he’d be a nuisance to a busy celebrity. Still…

Ugh. I’ve got nothing. Maybe they’ll just edit this whole bit out? Please?

“…I mean, to be fair… you are kind of slow at replying.”

His voice trailed off, noticeably quieter than before—his confidence gone.

If Gyowon showed even the slightest sign of being annoyed, it’d be a disaster. Wouldn’t it look like he was the weird one? Like some rookie idol publicly calling out a senior actor on national TV for not texting back fast enough?

While Haeun was spiraling into depressing thoughts, Gyowon finally responded.

“Hmm. That’s true.”

He didn’t look baffled or stunned at all. Instead, his eyes curved softly into a smile.

“Looks like I was at fault. I should be quicker with my replies from now on…”

His voice trailed off in a playful way — the kind of expression and tone you’d expect from someone coaxing a stubborn child with a fond smile. This time, Haeun was the one left speechless, though for a very different reason. For a moment, he almost forgot the cameras were rolling and nearly answered too casually.

Then someone from the crew asked,

“Those two seem really close — were you friends before? Even before the drama?”

Thankfully, the question cut off before Haeun could respond. He quickly averted his eyes from Gyowon and looked toward whoever spoke.

“Yeah, I was curious how this pairing came about. It’s an unexpected friendship. Did you get close during filming?”

Haeun was about to nod, since they did grow closer on set, sparked by a rather peculiar incident. Of course, he couldn’t explain that incident involving Lee Jaewoon.

But Gyowon jumped in with a laid-back answer.

“We weren’t really close, but if you ask whether we knew each other, then yeah, I guess so. Kind of halfway.”

Gyowon glanced over at Haeun as if asking for confirmation. Haeun, still confused, just blinked blankly.