Chapter Text
Ivan was twenty when he first saw Till’s performance. He was just passing by an electronics store on his way home, having completed his shift at his part-time job at the nearby café. In the display window was a wide-screen, plasma television, selling for cheap, the sound blaring at full volume. Ivan just so happened to turn his head as he walked, and he stopped.
He stared, enraptured , at the scene currently playing out before him. It depicted a confession, where the male lead confessed to the female main character whilst standing amidst a swirl of pink plum blossom petals. It was the allure of the actor, specifically, that drew Ivan in. The way he pulled attention to himself with the tone of his voice, each minute shift of his expression, the smallest of gestures.
The camera zoomed in on his face. Eyes rimmed with red, pooling with tears, his lips twisted down in an anguished frown as he pleads for the girl to accept his love. Ivan’s heart beats faster, pitter-pattering in the cavity of his ribcage. Unknowingly, he reached his hand out towards the screen of the television, fingers pressed against the cold glass that separates him from the actor on screen.
It was not until later that day, when the same episode aired that night, that Ivan learnt the actor’s name is Till.
*
Two years later, on a draughty, wintry December night, twenty-five-year-old actor Akugetsu Till falls from grace.
He left the building hounded by reporters and journalists dying to get their hands on an exclusive interview with the actor who fraternised with an amateur actress, exchanging roles for sexual deeds. The damage was too great, the circumstantial evidence and rumours too extensive, for the entertainment label to justify keeping Till on their payroll.
Dressed in a puffy coat covering most of his lanky frame, a cap hiding his shock of silver hair and a white masked stretched across his face, Till walks calmly out onto the street, ignoring any questions shoved his way. Like he hadn’t a care in the world, the news would later portray him as. An emotionless monster who pined for a young woman’s body even at the expense of her mental and emotional welfare.
Till eventually loses the reporters as he slips into the crowd, blending into the throngs of people that frequent Gangnam after sundown. He dodges a swaying man holding a bottle of alcohol ready to drop from his trembling fingers. He ducks his head and rushes past a group of women talking about his most recent drama. He flees down a narrow alleyway that leads to an underground bar he visits often.
The staircase is as dingy as he remembers, droplets of water dripping from the ceiling, glistening on the stone stairs. The heavy thumps of bass floats from the door at the end of the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. Pushing it open, Till steps into Sweet Dreams, a gay bar run by his good friend Dewey and his boyfriend Isaac.
Till drops into a stool at the counter, his shoulders sagging as tension drains out of him. Exhaustion weighs heavily on his limbs, his mind racing with a million thoughts at once.
“Rough day, huh?” Dewey says, leaning forward on the counter.
“That’s an understatement.” Till sighs, and he peers up at Dewey. “You saw the news?”
“Couldn’t have avoided it even if I tried. So, what happened?”
“It was just a few pictures of us interacting on that variety show. She tried to make moves on me, but she got found out by her actual boyfriend, who is a bigshot director of some other company. And then some reporter found out, and it was a big scandal, and now she’s getting off scot-free.”
“The entertainment industry, am I right?” Dewey chuckles. “Look, I’ve got a spare room if you need a place to crash for a bit.”
Till pulls his mask down to his chin, and he smiles at him gratefully. “Thanks.”
“And if you need a job, Hyunwoo’s studio needs an acting teacher.”
Till snorts. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. You know, because of the whole K-drama boom? A lot of kids want to learn acting all of a sudden.”
Of course, Till knows the boom. He’s one of the few who contributed to it, after all. Seven years ago, when his career just started to take off, he and a few other leading actors and actresses globalised Korean dramas and movies. Foreigners flocked to their stunning mountains and peaceful beaches, their cities steeped in history and sleepy towns out in the countryside. The commonality between these places? They are where famous scenes in various Korean movies and serials are filmed.
Shin Byunghee’s discovery of the Promised Land in Mountaineering? Filmed in the stunning outcrops of Dobongsan. The heart-wrenching scene where soldier Han Doyoon met his long-lost love after he returned from the war? Shot on a set inspired by the traditional image of Bukchon Hanok Village. The emerald waves splashing against the smooth sands as Cha Sehun and Kwon Jisoo promised that they’d remain best friends forever? Taken on the picturesque Hamdeok Beach.
Till remembers his time as those characters—as Shin Byunghee, as Han Doyoon, as Cha Sehun. His coiffures and outfits may be remade with each new setting, his demeanour and mannerisms may change with each new role, but underneath it all, he’s still the same Till.
“Maybe I’ll take him up on that offer. Someday,” Till says.
Dewey nods understandingly. Perhaps even approvingly. “This is just heaven’s way of telling you, you need a break. You’ve been breaking your back for the last seven years, ever since I knew you, no pun intended.”
“For the last ten years,” Till corrects him.
“For the last ten years,” Dewey echoes.
Dewey pours Till a drink, his personal concoction that he knows Till likes. Till nurses it, savouring the bitter taste mixed with sour lemon and a hint of sugar. He watches the other men on the dance floor, making out on the sofas, pressed up against the wall, their bodies bathed in neon light. The bell over the door jingles, just barely audible over the pounding thrum of electronic dance music.
“Do you have any recommendations tonight?” Till asks.
“Err… well, I don’t see anyone that particularly stands out, and no one that you haven’t already slept with before. Or they prefer bottoming with zero desire to switch.”
“Hey, I can top.”
Dewey glances up as footsteps approach. “Rarely, if I recall.”
A shadow falls over Till from behind, and a hand grasps the edge of the counter. The man leaning over him carries an earthy scent, a pleasant contrast to the fruity flavours of his shot. “You seem rather lonely. Maybe I can humour you tonight.”
The deep voice is silky smooth. Till does not recognise it at all. He tilts his head up, meeting a pair of shining, dark eyes set in a handsome face that’s all angles and no curves. His features should be enough to get him scouted off the street, even if he lacks talent. He’s been in this business long enough to know the standards.
Oh, but he’s tall, and he seems muscular, from what Till can see under his dress shirt. He smells good, and his voice sounds nice. Till wonders what he’d sound like in bed.
“As long as you don’t bring feelings into this,” Till says.
The man grins, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling. “Of course.”
*
Three years later, Till wakes up in the bed of an unknown man. His lower body screams at him as he moves to stand, wincing as he limps painfully to the bathroom. His partner is still asleep under the covers when he shuts the door to wash up. Till splashes water onto his face, grimacing at the dark spots under his eyes, and making a disgusted noise at the evident stink of odour from the towel hanging by the basin.
He throws his clothes back on before slipping out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He is standing on the rooftop of another house, and he drinks in the sight of the rising sun till it’s high in the blue sky, before tottering down the stairs and rubbing at his throbbing back every few steps.
The quiet neighbourhood is beginning to awaken. The scent of braised meat wafts from a nearby Taiwanese diner. An elderly man pushes a cart stacked to the brim with flattened cardboard boxes. A young jogger pants unabashedly as they sprint on by. Till walks with his hands in his pockets, soaking in the rejuvenating rays of the morning sunbeams.
His one-room flat is not far from where he works now. No longer an A-list actor who appeared on every blockbuster film who could get a contract with him. He’s just a humble acting instructor to the dozens of bright-eyed children hoping to make their dreams come true at Hyunwoo’s acting academy.
Truth to be told, he thought he’d harbour a grudge, he’d scheme and plot ways to bring that actress who ruined him down with her. Yet, that desire for revenge never manifested. He slinked into the shadows, and news of his scandal and fame disappeared over the next few months.
Till steps through the gate leading to his block of flats, and he takes the staircase up to the third floor, before turning his key in the first door to his right. He steps in, locks the door, and he shuffles into his flat. First things first, he needs another shower.
By the time Till’s done showering and eating his breakfast, he’s ready to greet another day. The first class starts at eight-thirty. He still has fifteen minutes before he needs to leave the house, which he decides to spend lounging around on his ratty mattress.
He reads through the SNS posts on his feed. Ever since his scandal, he’s created a new, private personal account. His old account was deleted, and his company’s severed all ties with him through an announcement on their official account. It stung at that time, but it didn’t really affect Till for long.
Now, his feed is filled with posts on the latest movies and dramas airing on KBS. News on scandals and lawsuits amongst his fellow actors and actresses. A few funny videos of dogs and cats misbehaving on set. Once an actor, always an actor, he thinks.
Till leaves his house five minutes late. He reaches the academy on time, after jogging down a good ten blocks. He throws the door open, only to find someone speaking to Hyunwoo in the reception lobby of the shabby building. Hyunwoo’s arms are folded as he chats, glancing over at Till’s arrival. Following Hyunwoo’s gaze is his companion, a man with eyes as black as his hair, his black locks hidden by a beanie. The lower half of his face is obscured by a mask, and he’s dressed in a baggy hoodie and ripped jeans, a look that Till is very familiar with.
“Oh, this is one of our best teachers, Till,” Hyunwoo says. “Till, surely, you know who this is.”
Till does know who this is.
“Nice to meet you,” Ivan says, and he holds out a hand for a handshake. “The name’s Ivan.”
Two years after his debut, Ivan has become a household name. Everyone other than Till knows him as the actor who clinched the Rookie Award the same year he debuted. Everyone other than Till knows him as the actor who starred in Those Pretty Lights, a Christmas romance movie that topped the charts and trended on SNS for months for its, apparently, revolutionary kiss scene. Everyone other than Till knows him as the current rising star of the Korean movie industry.
Till knows him as the man who gave him a night he can’t forget.
Even as he blinks, he can still recall the predatory glint in Ivan’s eye, when his tongue laved over his breastbone, his broad hands gripping Till’s bony hips. He can still recall Ivan’s low voice, his breath tickling his neck as he pressed firm kisses to the shell of his ear.
“Till, you okay?” Hyunwoo asks.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Till hadn’t realised he’s been staring. He clears his throat, and he takes Ivan’s hand. His skin is still as warm and smooth as ever. Ivan’s grasp is gentle, as though afraid of hurting him. “Nice to meet you too, Ivan-ssi.”
“Great, so… Ivan-ssi here is wondering whether we would partner with him for a new series that ALNST is thinking of starting,” Hyunwoo says. “He’ll be a temporary teacher for about a week or so—”
“Isn’t his manager supposed to come and negotiate these details?” Till asks. The thought of having Ivan here, being able to see him day in, day out, is tempting, but something smells fishy to Till’s finely-honed senses. “Why did an A-list actor personally come down here to ask?”
“Hey, there’s no need for that attitude,” Hyunwoo starts, but Ivan shushes him with a raise of his hand. Till arches a brow, wondering what’s going on in Ivan’s head.
“Don’t get me wrong. Today’s my off day, so I came down here to check it out,” Ivan says. “My manager and some company reps will be dropping by over the next few days. With more details and a contract.”
Till bites his lip, feeling like an idiot. “Oh. Sorry. I jumped the gun there.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were right to be suspicious. But rest assured, I don’t have any ulterior motives.”
That’s exactly what someone with an ulterior motive would say. Till still doesn’t trust this guy at all. Is it just a coincidence that he would be filming a programme here where Till just happens to work, in a quiet suburban area at a no-name acting academy? Till’s in no position to stop Hyunwoo either, considering that liaising with an actor that’s a household name would no doubt boost their popularity and enrolment rates.
“You can go on in first, Till,” Hyunwoo says. “The kids are waiting.”
“About that,” Ivan says, “could I sit in on the lesson? I’d like to see what goes on in one. I prefer to have a holistic view of things before making decisions.”
Till spins on his heels. He shoots Hyunwoo a few sharp glances which Hyunwoo either pointedly ignores or does not see. Ivan, on the other hand, judging by the sparkle in his eye, has noticed.
“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Hyunwoo says, and he jabs a thumb at Till. “Well, Till, break a leg out there. Don’t feel pressured.”
Till grumbles under his breath, his words unintelligible even to himself. Great, just great. The last week was shitty enough with disobedient children who think they’re better than him, cocky parents who harass him for sucking their children into a useless fad, and bad lays who can’t give a damn about his pleasure. And now, he has to entertain this top actor who’s here to watch his lesson.
Till steps into the studio for his first class of the day, already dreading that one boy who criticises Till’s acting as though he was a star back in the day. And that girl who is more interested in taking selcas than actually practising. And that other girl who insists that Till’s pointers are all wrong. This class is, by far, the worst that he has, and Ivan’s going to see it in all its ugliness.
Whatever. It’s not like it’s Till’s fault that these kids act the way they do. He’s just there to instruct them and get his salary at the end of the month.
At Till’s arrival, the children fall silent. Aside from one girl who’s still talking on her phone. Seriously, why are seven-year-old kids getting the latest models nowadays?
At Ivan’s arrival, the children’s eyes visibly grow wider, their jaws dropping, because apparently Ivan’s disguise cannot hide his handsome mug. Till swears some people would be able to recognise him by the shape of his right cheekbone alone.
“Everyone, this is Ivan-ssi, and he will be observing our lesson today,” Till says, figuring that there’s no reason to hide his identity. “So, I want all of you on your best behaviour and…”
The selca girl snaps shots of Ivan, and a few of the other girls dash over to him, showing off their hairstyles, their accessories, and clamouring for his attention. A boy asks for an autograph, and another gripes about Ivan’s popularity.
Till sighs, and he slumps against the wall, his arms folded. There’s really no point putting across a request when no one is listening. Only the one or two children who are truly there to further their passion sits quietly on the floor, their expressions betraying their ire at the situation.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you all, but I’m aware that you are all supposed to be attending class right now?” Ivan says.
“But our teacher sucks,” one of the most antagonistic boys huffs. “We want to learn from you.”
“Yeah, we have a top actor here!” the selca girl cries, hugging Ivan’s legs. “We want the top actor to teach us!”
Till fights the urge to scoff. He catches Ivan’s eye, but what he sees reflected there is not what he expected. He thought he’d see absolute neutrality in that gaze, holding neither agreement nor otherwise. He certainly doesn’t expect to witness flashes of annoyance in those dark pupils.
Annoyance at what? The kids? He should be used to this attention, if he is truly a great actor like how he is marketed to be.
“I think,” Ivan says, “that you should listen to your teacher. I’m off the clock today, and I wouldn’t want to be working on my day off.”
He is met with a chorus of “aww” and “please.” Although, a few children who are more perceptive must have heard the sharpness in his voice, and they back off just a little.
“Kids, can’t you see you’re making Ivan-ssi uncomfortable?” Till says, and he stalks over to them, standing over the children still surrounding him like huddled penguins. “Come on, let’s not disturb him.”
Slowly, but surely, Till manages to detach the children from Ivan. Ivan smiles at him gratefully, and Till bites back the remark that he only has himself to blame. Ivan proceeds to settle into a chair towards the back of the studio. Most of the children are still looking at him though, thoroughly distracted.
Oh man , Till thinks to himself, this is gonna be a long day .