He often thought his life was easy. “Seo Hoyun! Ah, this bastard. Living his life alone again.” “Hoyun-ah~. What are you doing tomorrow?” A fairly well-off family, a decent relationship among relatives. Even with little studying, his grades were always good. He made friends without much effort, and his looks weren’t so bad either. So he thought winning people’s favor wasn’t a big deal. At least, until he was twenty. “Ah... Mr. Seo Hoyun, your parents aren’t here?” Living in Korea without parents was unbelievably hard. Relatives who had always been kind were the first to turn their backs. No one helped purely out of goodwill. When he thought of the insurance money as his parents’ life’s worth, he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. He threw himself into rehabilitation like a madman and struggled desperately to earn money somehow. By the time he came to his senses, he was already twenty-four. His body and mind, ragged like a mop, had barely recovered. With a little space to breathe, he could finally face Seo Hojin properly again—but something was wrong with the kid. It had been a while since Hojin had thrown any tantrums. Wanting to buy him something, he asked. In his memories, little Hojin had always been honest about what he wanted. “Don’t you want anything?” “Mm, no. Not really.” But this Hojin only said he was fine. Even the studying he used to whine about, he now did on his own. He no longer asked for Mom or Dad. It was as if he was forcing himself to act like an adult. ‘Where did it go wrong?’ When the relatives pressured Hojin, waving the insurance money around? When the one he trusted told Hojin his brother abandoned him? It was when he left Hojin with that son of a bitch. He had cursed, screamed, flipped the house upside down and left, but even that hadn’t been enough. ‘I have to do it perfectly, without showing a single weakness.’ He went to every event concerning Hojin, tried everything to keep him from feeling any absence. But whenever he went to school, the homeroom teacher always said the same thing. “Ah, you’re Hojin’s brother?” They said the kid had matured because he looked up to his hardworking brother. They probably meant it as a compliment, but to his overly sensitive ears back then, it was bitter. Because the premise was always that their parents were gone. And whether he wanted to hear it or not, people’s whispers followed as soon as he turned his back. “What a pity. Of course, without parents life is hard.” A hollow laugh escaped him. He wished Hojin wouldn’t recognize it the same way. So they moved to another neighborhood. “Hey. Seo Hojin. Don’t ever show that you don’t have parents.” Because society would exploit even the smallest crack as a weakness. Little Hojin nodded firmly, like he was making a huge decision. One time, he came home late after overtime, and Hojin, who had just entered college, was sitting on the sofa drunk, waiting for him. At that time, he was just starting to gain footing at the broadcasting station. Word of his accident and losing his parents had already spread somewhat. That night, he saw Hojin’s ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ tears again, blurred in his memory now. “I hate it when people talk about you however they want...” He didn’t sob like when he was little, but his face overlapped faintly with the child he remembered. He never wanted Hojin to be spoken of negatively by anyone. He wanted Hojin to look as if he grew up loved, surrounded by warmth. [Is that really his younger brother? Couldn’t they just be friends?] [Just because their names share ‘Ho’ doesn’t mean they’re siblings, lol. People are reaching.] [I don’t really like when celebrities’ families keep getting brought up, but with him, it’ll keep coming up, lol.] I hate it too, when people talk about you. But Hojin’s information was already out. Conflicted thoughts tore through his head. He shook his head to scatter the noise and entered the passcode. The door swung open. “—Oh, hello. I’m Hojin Seo, celebrity of the Department of Political Science and Diplomacy.” And there he was—Seo Hojin, wearing sunglasses and a mask, slouched on the sofa. He took off his shoes, strode forward, and yanked off the sunglasses. “Ah, easy, hyung. Why do you look so scary?” “...What are you doing?” “Nothing. My popularity’s been shooting up lately, so I thought I should at least wear sunglasses.” He thought maybe Hojin would be flustered or nervous under his gaze, but he looked perfectly fine. ‘...He almost looks happy?’ “Hyung, how’d you get here?” “Really? I could’ve picked you up.” “As if you know how to drive...” When Hojin got up and they moved to the kitchen, the table was groaning with food. “What is this? You ordered all this, thinking you could eat it all?” “Come on, hyung. This is when you flex. Thanks for the card.” Looked like hanging out with Kang Ichae had rubbed off on him. Hojin sat with a cheeky grin, and he followed to sit across. Sliding plates toward him, Hojin eagerly explained what was good at the restaurant, what the specialties were. Instead of lifting his spoon, he asked directly. “Were you okay? Nothing happened?” “What do you mean, nothing...” Finally, Hojin scooped up some egg-softened dried pollack soup and ate. “...I just thought—finally, it’s here.” “I actually think it’s for the better, hyung. Honestly, I only see you a handful of times a year. Most of the time, I just check TV to see if you’re doing alright.” After a few more sips, he set his spoon down with a quiet sigh. “Every time you came to see me, you were so anxious. I’d rather everything was just out in the open so we could see each other more often.” “Don’t people bother you?” “Not really. I’ll be buried in the library studying anyway.” Hojin pushed another plate toward him as if it were nothing and picked up his spoon again. “What about your friends?” “They asked me for autographs, calling me a celebrity. Idiots...” Then he abruptly shut his mouth. Worried he’d get scolded for swearing, he looked sheepish, which made him laugh. ‘Guess his friends are fine.’ Seeing that, Hojin relaxed too, smiling back. “And they said hyung is ridiculously handsome.” “Yeah? Tell them thanks.” Even as he grumbled, Hojin devoured the food with a hearty appetite. The heavy weight pressing on his chest finally eased a little. While he picked at the dishes with his chopsticks, watching closely, Hojin finished eating, cleaned his bowls, and plopped back down. “But you know, hyung.” At the careful tone, he set his chopsticks down without touching the food and looked at Hojin. “I don’t know what you think, but for me, our parents... it’s really fine now. Well, maybe not entirely fine, but... I really am okay. I worry more about you.” “What I have left isn’t Mom or Dad. It’s you, hyung.” Somehow, Seo Hojin, now grown, filled his vision completely. And suddenly, he wondered if he’d been worrying needlessly all this time. He thought these things would dig at Hojin’s wounds and scar him more deeply, but the kid had already healed, endured, and moved forward on his own. Regardless of his own intentions to make him happy. He drank some water and said it. The house they’d lived in together for so long held many memories, but now their address was exposed, and Hojin’s safety mattered more. Even without context, Hojin just smiled brightly, as if he understood. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” ...The kid’s all grown up. ‘Yeah, maybe I’ve been overreacting.’ Looking at Hojin’s clear, cheerful face, he felt foolish for taking everything so seriously. After all, he wasn’t a disgraced PD anymore, but an idol with a decent image, and Hojin was just an ordinary civilian. At most, this was a passing curiosity—soon people would lose interest. “—Actually, things are better now than when I was at QBS as a PD.” Maybe he really had worried too much. “...If it doesn’t bother you, even if it’s a bit noisy, we can meet outside too.” Thinking that, his mood lifted a little. “I could check in regularly, make sure you’re eating properly.” Suddenly, he wanted to do everything for Hojin that he couldn’t before. Whether it was lack of money, time, or strength—he’d give it all now, slowly, piece by piece. “Even if it’s really expensive, I’ll buy it for—” “What are you talking about?” Just then, Hojin frowned sharply, cutting him off. “No, you just said PD.” A strange unease crept in. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝕟𝕖𝕥 That same feeling he’d once gotten from Hojin before. “Hyung, are you filming Bring Me the Camera season 2?” The conversation lurched, falling out of step. “...Seo Hojin, that’s not funny. Stop.” Hojin tilted his head slightly, as if he didn’t understand. “Is it a secret because it’s a drama shoot?” “Hey, fuck. Cut it out.” He shot to his feet, the table clattering loudly as it shifted. Hojin’s shoulders flinched. He was holding on to his sanity by the thinnest thread— “Don’t pull this shitty prank on me right now. I’m on edge.” “Did... did I do something wrong?” —And Hojin cut that thread. Looking at his younger brother’s puzzled eyes, he found himself stepping back unconsciously. Certainty that Hojin was really okay. That he was still the same brother he knew—“Seo Hojin.” Did he know where they were? The phone game he liked? What his original job was? When their parents’ accident happened? The words formed, but collapsed before leaving his mouth, dissolving into fear inside. Instead, he asked the safest question he could manage. “―How many years apart are we?” Blinking in surprise, Hojin moved his lips a few times, then answered honestly. “We’re the same age.” He could only stare at Hojin, speechless.