Chapter 56: Togo Napshin (8)

Part 17

I must’ve dozed off while staring out the window. A sudden shake on my shoulder jolted me awake, and the car’s engine hum had faded into a heavy silence. Outside, dim lights illuminated rows of parked cars. Turning toward the touch, a sharp ache shot through my neck and shoulders. Clutching my neck instinctively, I heard a snicker from beside me—probably Seokyoon.

“Wake up. We’re here,” he said.

“Ugh…” I groaned.

Does she nap often? She’s not usually a sleeper, must be tired. Voices drifted through my groggy mind. It seemed Seokyoon and Homin had bonded while I was out.

“Says she’s been staying up late because of her brother’s streams. But she’s not the type to sleep in,” Seokyoon said.

“Haha, from what I’ve heard on her streams, she doesn’t seem like someone who slacks off,” Homin replied.

No, it’s because you two were laughing over stuff I couldn’t follow. I wanted to snap back, but my mouth only mumbled, refusing to form words. Knowing I’d just ramble nonsense, I settled for a pouty glare and kept quiet.

“If you’re tired, you can wait in the car. I’ll grab a coffee,” Homin offered.

“No, no. There’s someone waiting, I can’t…” I said.

“Yoonseo set a generous schedule, so we’ve got time before the shoot,” Homin added.

Sure, there was time until the shoot, but with makeup and costume checks, it’d be tight. Before I could voice that, Homin was already out of the car, closing the door. Bold or just proactive? The thought flitted through my hazy mind—he was a lively guy.

“There’s a café nearby, I’ll be quick. Iced Americanos for both, okay?” Homin said.

“Sorry for my half-baked friend,” Seokyoon teased.

“It’s my request, so it’s the least I can do!” Homin replied.

Seokyoon’s playful jab and Homin’s cheerful response mixed with the dull thud of the closing door. Through the window, I caught Homin’s faint, “Be right back!” Seokyoon glanced at me and chuckled again. Guess I look ridiculous.

“…So, where are we?” I asked.

“Where else? Underground parking at the building with the rented studio,” he said.

“Yeah, but…” I trailed off.

I was about to say that’s not what I meant, but realized he probably wouldn’t get it. Unless it’s a familiar area, naming a place wouldn’t mean much.

“Your neck? Hurts a lot?” he asked.

“Not a big deal. Just slept in a bad position,” I said.

“Loosen up now. Even if the shoot itself isn’t long, prep and makeup will take a couple of hours,” he warned.

“…When did you talk about that?” I asked.

“Who told you to fall asleep?” he teased.

His hand playfully kneaded my neck, and I let out a dramatic, “Aaaagh!”—a cracked groan. His snickers confirmed he was messing with me, not out of affection.

“Ow! Stop, it hurts, I’ll do it myself, don’t—!” I yelped.

“You’re so stiff. Lack of exercise?” he said.

After a few firm pats, he let go, grinning smugly. I wanted to smack him, but it also felt like things were back to normal. The awkwardness from earlier was gone.

“…Can you rub it gently? It’s scary how tight it is when I turn,” I said.

“Didn’t you say you’d do it yourself?” he asked.

“Sometimes it’s gotta hurt to work,” I insisted.

Surprisingly, he didn’t argue. I shifted to make it easier for him to knead, his hands feeling oddly large on my neck and shoulders.

“Shoulders?” he asked.

“Might hurt a bit,” I said.

The impromptu massage continued until Homin returned with coffee, knocking on the window with an awkward expression. When he asked what we were doing, I said, “Just getting my shoulders rubbed.” He replied, oddly, that he was jealous.

Jealous of what? It’s not like it was a pro massage.

Part 18

Naturally, Flying Rabbit didn’t own the whole building. They rented the studio hourly, with options to borrow makeup or costumes for extra fees. As I tensed at the thought, Homin added, “We use it like our own, so don’t worry about costs.”

“We’ve got someone for makeup too, so no stress there,” he said.

“That’s… a relief. I’m clueless about makeup,” I admitted.

“Whoa, that’s surprising,” Homin said.

Listening to his explanations, we made our way to a room vaguely described as a “dressing area.” As we entered, Bonfire stood up as if he’d been watching the door. Tall, with neatly styled, voluminous hair covering his forehead.

“Seeing you in person, I feel obligated to tell Cheungjeokun to upgrade his cam,” Bonfire said.

“Haha, he’s been whining about people complaining about that lately. Cut him some slack,” I replied.

“He’s got reason to complain. I might join the protests,” Bonfire teased.

Wearing a cozy sweater and jeans, likely for early spring, he looked polished compared to his usual rough stream attire. I smiled, shaking his outstretched hand.

“And the folks behind you?” Bonfire asked.

“Dununttutturuppara-ppa, Park Homin,” Homin introduced.

“Oh, the one who pops in to donate?” Bonfire said.

“You remember me!” Homin replied.

Familiar names, especially frequent donors, stood out. What an honor, they said, exchanging warm greetings. Their outgoing personalities seemed to click. As they shook hands, their attention shifted to Seokyoon, who’d been quietly waiting.

“And this is…?” Bonfire asked.

“…Kim Seokyoon. Her friend dragged me along so she wouldn’t get lost,” Seokyoon said.

“Nice to meet you, friend,” Bonfire said.

Seokyoon stared at Bonfire’s hand like it was an alien object, shaking it a beat late, just shy of rude. What’s up with him? I wondered if something was wrong.

“…Holy sh*t. It’s really Bonfire-nim?” Seokyoon said.

“Uh, yeah. Kwon Hyuk, known as Bonfire,” he confirmed.

Their hands stayed clasped. Seokyoon’s gaze flicked between Bonfire’s face and their hands. A brief silence. As everyone sensed something off, I felt pressured to intervene.

“Can I… get a picture?” Seokyoon asked.

“Huh? Oh, sure, no problem,” Bonfire said.

He doesn’t watch Sanghyeon’s streams but is a fan of this guy? Annoyed, I jabbed Seokyoon’s side as soon as the photo was done. Predictably, he didn’t seem fazed.