It was a day when spring was just around the corner, but by afternoon, the sky was heavy with clouds as if rain showers were about to pour across the country.
While people hurriedly took shelter inside buildings, most of them passed the time surfing the web indoors.
【Gasp☆Crazy Event☆You’ll Regret It If You Miss This.. T_T】
[Was this title written by Jung Dajun or Kang Ichae?]
[Obviously the maknae.]
[Jung Dajun, stop using “crazy event” and stars already, that trend is dead.]
Just then, The Dawn’s live broadcast on their fan app went live. People who saw the title didn’t think much of it and yawned as they entered.
“Hello.”
It wasn’t Kang Ichae or Jung Dajun who appeared on screen—it was Sung Jiwon.
Seeing Sung Jiwon smiling brighter than an angel in a dim room, the Noeul fans were first startled, and then hurriedly began typing with trembling hands.
[..Jiwon-ah..]
[The title.. you..?]
“Yes?”
When the angel tilted his head curiously, still wearing that gentle smile, the Noeul fans quickly deleted what they were about to type—something like “the star thing is outdated, stop hanging around with Kang Ichae.”
[Kyah~ such a creative title☆]
[★☆Crazy Event☆★]
“Ahaha. Really?”
Sung Jiwon laughed shyly, as if he were planning something mischievous. As the viewers’ eyes adjusted to the dark, they suddenly noticed a body lying behind him—and gasped.
[Um... that friend behind you,]
[Wh-what is that]
...It was Jung Dajun, looking utterly lifeless.
[That’s a corpse.]
[Oh my god, Dajun, what happened to you?]
“Ah, Dajun just got a little too enthusiastic. Ahaha.”
Crawling weakly on all fours, Jung Dajun grabbed a piece of paper and began writing something in a hurry.
“The... cul... prit... is....”
【WON JI SUNG】
[A dying message?!]
[Dajun-ah, but you didn’t have to write it backward like that...]
[lmfaoooo Dajun never changes]
“Mm, well done.”
‘Won Ji Seong’—Sung Jiwon—looked at Jung Dajun fondly, as if he were adorable, then sat him down beside him without even correcting the name.
“Alright, since we have time, shall we chat a bit?”
“.......”
“Or should Dajun show us the choreography he practiced today—”
“Let’s watch a drama! A drama, yes! Hahahahaha!”
The zombie suddenly sprang up, turned on the monitor, and began typing furiously before pulling up the latest drama that had just ended.
“Alright, Noeul! You weren’t expecting this, right~?! Today’s review is ‘Love Like a Flower’!”
[This is the 24th review, Dajun...]
[Teacher, I want to stop now...]
[I’m dropping out.]
But since this was The Dawn’s maknae, Jung Dajun only saw the fans’ complaints as enthusiasm. “You want to watch, huh?! Alright then!” he declared and enthusiastically launched into a historical drama commentary.
“Oh, you think there’s a historical inaccuracy here? Right, normally this character would have died seven years earlier—but in ‘Love Like a Flower’, it’s possible. Isn’t that what fiction’s for?”
[Can’t believe how knowledgeable Dajun is about historical dramas lolol]
[When you ask “how do you know that,” turns out it’s from a drama 20 years ago.
└Even though he writes dying messages backward
└└LOOOOOOOOOOOOL T_T LOOOOL]
While Noeul marveled at Dajun’s surprising level of detail, the maknae watched the drama with puckered lips, totally absorbed. When the romance scene came on, he suddenly smacked his forehead.
“Whoa!! Look at this! Look at this, everyone! I waited every night at 9:10 for THIS!”
[Teacher, this is the fifteenth time you’ve said that about this scene...]
While Dajun was squealing, Sung Jiwon quietly glanced at his phone, then spun his chair around, facing Dajun.
“Hmm, Dajun.”
“This part!! This is the highlight! The guy whose feelings were unreadable finally—”
“...Dajun?”
“—finally lowers his walls and confesses his love passionately!!”
“Jung Dajun.”
“......Kkyak.”
Sung Jiwon was staring at him without a smile.
“Do you... want to practice more?”
“.......”
Blinking rapidly, Dajun shook his head frantically, slowly backed away, and darted out the door in a flash.
Left alone, Sung Jiwon let out a small laugh, adjusted the tablet’s angle, and said softly, “Wait a moment,” before stepping away.
[Oh no, Dajun, please]
[If Sung Jiwon catches him, he’s dead]
[Guys... they left the live on lololol]
Thanks to that, the viewers were left staring at an empty screen. Five minutes passed, and when no one returned, they figured the manager would come soon to turn it off.
Then—someone cleared their throat.
[..Huh?]
The camera wobbled.
[??????????]
A man dressed in all white from head to toe fumbled with the camera for a while, muttering, “Why isn’t this working...” in a slightly embarrassed tone.
[What the hell?????????]
[Is... is this real?]
A large pale hand covered the camera, turning the screen black. As the fans panicked, a familiar whisper came.
“...Close your eyes.”
That voice.
The chat froze. It was as if the app itself glitched.
He knew full well that no fan would ever actually close their eyes, yet with playful teasing, he rustled around with something off-screen.
No way.
[Hoyun?]
Then came a low chuckle.
“I said, close your eyes, didn’t I?”
Whether he was reading the comments one by one or just carefully picking his words, silence stretched on.
Finally, he cleared his throat softly, as if ready, and removed his hand.
The screen, once white, slowly came into focus—revealing a large bouquet of flowers.
Amid bright green leaves were vivid blue roses, and between them, soft yellow peonies bloomed warmly. It was radiant, fresh—and yet—
“Hi.”
The moment his face appeared, everything else was forgotten.
A cold impression, pale skin contrasted by dark hair, lashes so long they cast shadows.
It had been a long time since they’d seen this man.
“It’s Hoyun.”
It was Seo Hoyun.
[AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA]
[WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH]
[THE RAIN DANCE WORKED]
The comments flew up so fast the screen froze. Even Seo Hoyun, famous for reading fast, blinked and closed his mouth for a second.
[TT__TT Hoyun-ah]
[SCREAMMMMM]
[God, I missed you]
“Yes, it’s been a while....”
Fans had a thousand questions—about his health, his work, what he’d been doing—but right now, all they could say was: I missed you.
[Didn’t expect to see you here]
Seo Hoyun quietly rubbed his fingers together, waiting for the flood of reactions to calm down.
“...You didn’t expect to see me today?”
...Huh?
His tone was noticeably softer. As Noeul hesitated, the top star looked slightly nervous, his lips parting as if unsure.
“...How is it?”
[....What is?]
[Your... beautiful face? Killing me, yes.]
“The flowers. Uh, I mean—” He coughed awkwardly.
Clearly flustered, Seo Hoyun glanced between the bouquet and the camera.
“I bought these today. Wanted to show them to Noeul.”
[Excuse me, what?]
“You don’t like these? Things like this, I mean.”
Seriously?
Seo Hoyun, that Seo Hoyun—the one said to have ice instead of blood—had actually bought a bouquet of yellow and blue flowers just to show during a livestream?
But then, Seo Hoyun frowned slightly.
“...I thought Noeul would like it?”
In that instant, everyone quickly grasped the situation.
Seo Hoyun had bought the flowers because he wanted to show them to Noeul.
[Oh my god, that’s so beautiful]
[I’ve never seen flowers this pretty in my life!!!]
[How did you know I like things like this!!!]
[Waaaah I’m so happy right now]
No one really cared about the flowers themselves, but watching a beautiful man look flustered was something they couldn’t resist. As if soothing a lover, the chat flooded with desperate excitement—
“Ah.”
Seo Hoyun’s eyes softened, and he smiled brightly.
“I thought so.”
The fans stirred.
[Excuse me..?]
As if gaining a bit of confidence, Seo Hoyun fiddled with the bouquet. “Look, there are blue roses mixed in, right? If I was going to buy something, I thought I should prepare this too...” He began calmly explaining the names and meanings of each flower.
Unfortunately, Noeul didn’t care about his flower commentary at all.
They were too dazed—drawn to his half-lowered lashes, that low, gentle voice, and the look in his eyes.
[This... is really Seo Hoyun, right?]
[It’s him, right?]
[Who are you and what have you done with him]
No matter how much he tried to act coy before, this level of sweetness? From someone who always had the mindset of, “Why give something you can’t even hand over through the screen”?
[Are you... still sick?]
[Don’t overdo it, we’re worried]
[Who kidnapped Seo Hoyun]
The fans tried to lighten the awkward mood with jokes, but even with the chat flying by at ridiculous speed, Seo Hoyun paused mid-reading.
“.......”
His frown said it all—this wasn’t the reaction he was going for. He seemed to have a lot to say.
[Ah no sorry]
[Sorry we didn’t mean it]
As they hurriedly apologized, Seo Hoyun rested his chin on his hand and stared straight into the monitor.
“...Yeah.”
So he was returning to his usual self.
“I’ll just be upset on my own, then.”
[..?]
The fans were in shock.
Normally, he would’ve replied with something like, ‘No, I’m not sick. Don’t worry. hehe’—the usual 200% polite act. But now? He sounded genuinely sulky.
[I-I’m sorry]
[I’m sorry..]
“It’s fine.”
What was this... annoying boyfriend act?
But Seo Hoyun really seemed a bit pouty. With his arms crossed, he stared at the endless stream of apology messages and sighed.
Finally, one Noeul gathered courage and sent a message.
[I really love the flowers, I’m actually fluttering right now]
“.......”
[I was just surprised because it’s been so long!!]
“...Was that it?”
Then, as if his irritation melted a little, his lips curved up.
“Ah, I see. I almost got disappointed.”
Seo Hoyun ran his fingers through his hair, then started rambling nonsense about how “the breeze feels nice” and “the air’s so lively lately.”
[Uh... it’s raining though]
[It suddenly got super cloudy??]
[There’s a heavy rain warning??]
An early typhoon was approaching.
It had been clear that morning, but by afternoon, the showers poured down. Even in Kang Ichae’s well-soundproofed studio, thunder rolled and rumbled outside.
Yet Seo Hoyun, utterly undisturbed, said softly, “I just felt like doing a live on a day like this,” and fell quiet again.
“I don’t even know where to start... I had a lot to say.”
He looked slightly awkward, almost apologetic.
While everyone stared at him as if hypnotized, Seo Hoyun absentmindedly tapped his fingers—then, suddenly, the monitor lit up.
【I’ve Been Waiting for You So Long!】
A clip from the drama Jung Dajun had been watching began to play.
Seo Hoyun raised an eyebrow and watched silently.
【I missed you! You probably didn’t know. But for ten years, I kept thinking of you, always, just like you missed me....】
It was heart-wrenching. One of the top five lines from any drama this year. Yet Seo Hoyun only crossed his arms, as though someone had interrupted an important moment.
[Seo Hoyun totally unfazed]
[Everyone else crying and he’s just blank-eyed lol]
[Oh yeah, that’s definitely him]
When he saw the comments, Seo Hoyun chuckled softly.
“Ah, I’ve seen it too many times. Dajun kept replaying it... I practically memorized it.”
[God, I want to see you act that line]
[Hoyun, please act that scene... even though you’d never do a romance line]
Seo Hoyun didn’t see those comments. He was busy moving the mouse to close the video.
As he leaned closer to the screen to read Noeul’s messages again—
[Hoyun, do you ever do that kind of acting?]
“Excuse me?”
His voice dropped like a blade of cold wind.
Though he had been in a great mood, that question froze it instantly.
“Romance?”
[LOOL I just asked loll]
[lmao the only time he looks serious: when romance comes up]
[Truly an idol through and through lolol]
He looked like he was about to say something sharp, but then hesitated. His lashes lowered. He almost said “no need,” but the fans kept teasing him, refusing to stop.
[Come on, just once]
[Just this once, here~ please~hehe]
[Please show us... please... please....]
Seo Hoyun stared at the screen for a long moment, then smiled awkwardly—the same smile he always gave when cornered.
Naturally, Noeul assumed he wouldn’t do it.
[He doesn’t want to lol let’s stop teasing]
[It’s okay, Hoyun!! Hehe]
Of course, none of them actually wanted a full romance performance—but if he did it, it’d still be nice.
Then Seo Hoyun scratched his cheek and said quietly,
“No, I’ll do it.”
The chat exploded.
Still looking relaxed, maybe even a little pleased, Seo Hoyun adjusted the camera slightly.
He brushed under his eyes, tapped his fingers on the desk in the dim room, and began reciting the exact same line from the drama.
“...You know... you probably didn’t realize it, but all that time...”
It was just mimicry—yet somehow, it evoked a wintry scene.
Something that felt like it happened long ago, yet still played on endlessly in someone’s heart.
Like the letter he had once posted before.
“I kept thinking about you, always.”
In the dark, where only a faint light seeped in, Seo Hoyun spoke quietly.
“...So much.”
Just like you missed me.
He swallowed the line, lowered his lashes, hesitated, touched the bouquet gently, then raised his gaze.
And he smiled faintly.
“...I missed you.”
