As the meeting drew to a close, the conference room slowly emptied out.
People shuffled their papers, exchanged polite bows, and made their way to the exits, already moving on to their next appointments or grabbing a much-needed coffee.
The atmosphere was light, but there was a certain buzz in the air—like something meaningful had just started brewing.
Only one person lingered behind.
Hyunbin.
He waited until the last assistant closed the door behind them before stepping forward.
His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something more—gratitude, maybe even a little emotion.
He walked over to Jihoon, who was still gathering his notes and casually sipping what had to be his third iced americano of the day.
"Director-nim," Hyunbin said softly in Korean, bowing slightly. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
Jihoon looked up and blinked, then grinned. "Hyung, seriously? Don't go all formal on me now. Just call me Jihoon like you always do."
"You're making me feel uncomfortable," he said, then gave a playful shiver, as if the overly respectful tone gave him goosebumps.
Hyunbin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haha, I know, I know. It's just… this project feels different."
"And you've achieved so much that people like me—who've known you from the beginning—can't help but wonder if you'd change.
What Hyunbin didn't know, though, was that he was partially right. Jihoon had changed. He used to be just a carefree director, focused purely on making good films.
But now, things were different. He had a goal—a bigger one. One that involved more than just storytelling. It was about control, about independence, about building something that couldn't be easily shaken.
And as for Hyunbin—there was more to this casting than a promise made back in Cannes. In Jihoon's previous life, Hyunbin had always been one of those "almost there" actors.
Always on the cusp, always praised. Sure, he got tons of offers—TV dramas, films, you name it. He was working non-stop. But they were all local productions. He was big in Korea… and only Korea.
International recognition? That never quite happened. But one thing was undeniable—his talent.
Hyunbin's performances were raw, grounded, and deeply human. People often talked about his looks—he was famous for them, after all—but what impressed Jihoon most was that Hyunbin never leaned on that.
He never took the easy road. He deliberately chose roles that challenged him, even if it meant damaging his carefully curated image.
He played flawed, broken men. Quiet heroes. Messy, real characters. And directors loved him for it. He was respected, even admired—but somehow, never quite reached the spotlight he truly deserved.
"Alright then, Jihoon," Hyunbin said, testing the name like it was a luxury he hadn't allowed himself in a while. "Are you free tonight? I was thinking… let me treat you to dinner. My way of saying thanks."
"Sure, I'm down," Jihoon said easily. "Did Yejin noona come to L.A. with you too?"
Hyunbin froze for half a second.
"Cgh-cgh…" He cleared his throat a little too quickly, eyes darting to the floor. "Yah… Jihoon-ah, don't go spreading weird rumors. We're just friends, alright?"
"Uh-huh. Just friends," Jihoon said, dragging out the words with a teasing grin. "Sure, hyung. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Hyunbin's ears turned just slightly pink, and his attempt to look unbothered was failing miserably.
"Seriously," he said, laughing awkwardly. "She's not even here."
"Too bad," Jihoon said with a smirk. "Would've been fun to see the 'just friends' in action again."
They both burst into laughter—the kind that echoed from the days they spent on the set of Jihoon's film 'Secret'.
It felt easy. Familiar. Like no matter how much time had passed or how drastically their lives had changed, this connection between them had stayed exactly the same.
As they walked out of the building together, the golden hour sun blanketed Los Angeles in a soft, cinematic glow. The palm trees swayed lazily in the warm breeze, and the city itself looked like it was dipped in honey.
Jihoon's chauffeur was already waiting at the curb, casually leaning against the sleek black SUV, scrolling through his phone like a seasoned pro who had long since mastered the art of patience.
"Where to, hyung?" Jihoon asked as they climbed into the car.
Hyunbin buckled in and gave a mischievous grin. "I saw this post from some netizen raving about a Galbi place in Koreatown."
Jihoon's eyes lit up. "The one with the golden broth, handmade dumplings and L.A.-style beef short ribs."
They both laughed again as the car pulled into traffic, rolling through the boulevards of L.A. in that mellow in-between hour when the city wasn't quite done buzzing, but had started to relax.
The drive to Koreatown wasn't long, and before they knew it, the SUV pulled up in front of a modest but stylish restaurant tucked between a Korean bookstore and a neon-lit karaoke bar.
The signage was warm and understated, the kind of place you wouldn't find unless someone swore by it.
As they stepped inside, the soft interior lighting cast a cozy glow on the wooden tables and stone-accented walls.
Traditional Korean lattice designs lined the windows, and a hint of grilled meat and sesame oil lingered in the air—comforting and familiar.
Just as they were admiring the ambiance, a young woman in an apron approached them, her expression first puzzled, then slowly shifting into one of shock—like she was trying to confirm if she was really seeing what she thought she was seeing.
She hurried over, eyes wide with delight. "A-are you... Hyunbin oppa?!"
Her voice practically squeaked with excitement, like a squirrel finding a whole stash of acorns.
Jihoon stepped aside, watching the scene unfold with an amused grin, his eyebrows dancing playfully as if to say Go on, hyung. This is your stage now.
Hyunbin shot him a brief glance—one that said, I know exactly what you're thinking, and you're enjoying this way too much.
Then he turned back to the girl, offering a polite smile.
"Yes... I'm Hyunbin," he said with a modest nod.
"OH MY GOD! DAEBAK! Can I hug you?!"
Before he could respond, she had already launched herself at him like a human koala, arms wrapped tightly around his torso in full fangirl glory.
Caught off guard, Hyunbin looked over her shoulder—and there it was: Jihoon, holding up his phone with a smirk, snapping a photo like a proud tabloid photographer.
"You better not post that," Hyunbin mouthed silently.
Jihoon winked.
Eventually, the flustered staff member remembered she was working and quickly released him.
"S-sorry! Please, this way! I'll get you the best table!" she said, practically bouncing as she led them to their seats.
Before handing over the menus, she whipped out a clean sheet of paper and asked—no, begged—for Hyunbin's autograph.
The food arrived not long after, and with it… a wave of attention.
Word must've spread fast, because more staff began sneaking peeks from the kitchen.
Then came the other diners—mostly Korean expats and tourists—who recognized Hyunbin almost instantly.
One by one, they began approaching: autograph books, phones for selfies, excited whispers.
Jihoon and Hyunbin exchanged a knowing glance as another middle-aged woman excitedly asked for "just one photo, oppa!"
"This is what we get for showing your faces in Koreatown," Jihoon muttered with a wry smile.
"It's your fault for making me famous again," Hyunbin muttered under his breath, half-laughing as he scribbled his signature on yet another napkin for an eager fan.
Despite Jihoon's own name being known in Korea—especially in cinephile circles—his face hadn't yet become public property.
Most netizens could list his achievements, sure jihoon's look is very handsome but very few would recognize him walking down the street. He was the ghost behind the lens, and frankly, he liked it that way.
But what neither of them realized… was that this was just the beginning.
Back at the front counter, the same overly excited part-time waitress had discreetly snapped a photo of the two of them eating together—"OMG!!! Hyunbin oppa and a mystery guy at a galbi place in LA?! Secret project incoming?? #Hyunbin #HollywoodKMovie #SpottedInLA"
Little did she know, this innocent post was about to cause a huge commotion the next day—a commotion Jihoon had never intended.
What started as a harmless photo would unintentionally force Jihoon to announce his secret Hollywood project sooner than planned, triggering an even bigger uproar.
The photo spread like wildfire across Korean SNS the following day. Netizens couldn't stop speculating, and fans scrutinized every detail.
By morning, a full-blown media storm was brewing. The identity of Jihoon, the mysterious man seen with Hyunbin, was quickly uncovered.
Netizens soon realized he was none other than the famous director behind the films they adored—'Secret', 'Your Name', and even Jongbin's film, for which Jihoon had written the script.
The revelation sent the situation into even more chaos.
But all of that would unfold tomorrow. For now, the storm was just beginning to gather momentum.
[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe and JiangXiu for bestowing the power stone!]