Page 14 of From Paris to Seoul (K-Drama Love Story #2)

??

Baekhyun

I woke up in a tiny room, barely bigger than a closet. I blinked a few times, trying to process my surroundings.

Right. I broke up with Sun-hee—the realization hit me like a bucket of cold water.

I checked my phone: a few missed calls from her and over twenty messages, ranging from disbelief — Are you joking ? —to pure rage — What am I supposed to tell my friends and followers if we break up?!

I let out a dry chuckle. So, that was her main concern? Well, that’s her problem, not mine. She could say whatever she wanted to her friends or followers—I don’t give the tiniest shit.

I yawned and stretched luxuriously in bed. With no plans for the day and still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days, I felt restless. Well, first things first, I thought—I needed coffee to clear my head before continuing my now-solo Parisian adventure.

But after breakfast, another stroll along the Seine (again), and exploring Montmartre and Sacré-C?ur—where I even spotted a pickpocket in action—I realized I might be running out of places to visit.

Should I hit a nightclub tonight? Party until I drop, just like the good old days? I’m single and in Paris—this is the perfect chance, right? The thought flashed through my mind.

Or maybe I could do something totally different and visit a nearby city like Versailles…?

Then, Seo-yeon crossed my mind.

Maybe she’d like to join me? She seemed to be traveling alone the other day. Surely, exploring a foreign place with someone familiar is better than doing it solo, right?

“Are you free today? Want to meet up? ” I typed and sent the message.

I kept strolling, letting the idea settle, when I felt the buzz from my phone on my pocket and saw the reply from Seo-yeon. “Sure, where should we meet?”

A small smile formed on my face as I typed my reply, a bit surprised she had accepted my invitation. I thought she’d hesitate.

“Versailles? ” I texted, testing my luck.

She responded with a shocked-face emoji, but followed by, “Oh, okay! Meet you in front of the castle around 2 p.m.?”

I sent a thumbs-up emoji as reply, feeling a little bit upbeat and pleasantly surprised that Seo-yeon had agreed so easily.

After an hour-long train ride, I finally arrived in front of the palace. Like everything else in Paris and its surroundings, it looked majestic, with its gold-coated gates and rooftops.

Even though the area was packed with tourists, I easily spotted Seo-yeon near the entrance. She looked a bit cold, rubbing her hands together and blowing warm air into them.

Her reddish cheeks, nose, and ears stood out against her pale skin.

I quickly made my way over and greeted her, “Hey! Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh no, no, don’t worry, I just got here,” she said with a warm smile. “We might’ve been on the same train, actually!”

“Ah, that’s possible,” I replied curtly, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

It’s true that we had spent about three intense months together filming a historical drama, but we weren’t close by any means. Back then, we were rarely alone, and we hadn’t kept in touch after the drama ended.

Did I make a mistake asking her to join me? What if we ran out of things to talk about and things got awkward? After all, it doesn’t seem like we have much in common.

She’s clearly from a rich family, oozing a princess-like aura. What if she just wants to eat at a fancy restaurant and talk about pretentious things, like the difference between Manet and Monet’s art styles or… whatever their names are?

“You okay? Should we go in?” Seo-yeon interrupted my thoughts.

Whatever. It’s too late to back out now, I told myself.

I nodded, and we started walking toward the ticket booth.

“Are you here by yourself? Where’s your girlfriend?” Seo-yeon asked, looking a bit confused.

I cringed slightly before replying, telling her I’d broken up with my girlfriend due to… mismatched personalities, without going into detail.

Seo-yeon doesn’t seem like someone who would gossip. And even if she did, I’m not big enough in the industry for my dating history to cause a scandal.

“Oh!” Seo-yeon exclaimed, her expression shifted to concern. “I’m really sorry to hear that. Are you… feeling okay?”

“I mean, of course, you’re not, but… ah, I never know what to say to someone who just broke up,” she continued, rambling a little, looking awkward.

I blinked, then let out a small laugh. I’d never seen this side of her before.

“It’s funny, isn’t it…” she went on as we paid for our tickets and headed into the castle. “I just broke up with my boyfriend, too. You’d think ending a six-year relationship would be hard, but honestly? It’s not. It’s actually… quite liberating.” She flashed me a bright smile.

“Oh, I’m talking too much about myself,” she said, looking a bit embarrassed.

“No, no, go on. Actually, we don’t really know much about each other,” I said.

“Back on set, you seemed… reserved. Like you only wanted to hang out with familiar people or, you know, the big names like Ji-yong. You kind of had that princess vibe—just like the one you played in the drama.” I smirked.

It felt nice to be direct—no expectations whatsoever.

Just casual banter between old acquaintances.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “No way! To me, you were the one who seemed a bit cold. Honestly, I never knew what to say around you because every time I tried to start a conversation, you’d just give me a one-word reply,” she pouted and playfully landed a light punch on my arm.

“Was I…? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I said with an apologetic smile. “And by the way, I feel fine. I mean, the breakup was just yesterday, so it’s still fresh, but it was a relationship doomed to fail anyway,” I muttered quietly.

She hummed, clearly intrigued. “Did you just realize that recently, or was it, like… you always knew, but you were in denial?”

Then, as if catching herself going too deep too fast, she quickly added with a smirk, “Ah, should we open a psychology practice together?” She chuckled, trying to keep the mood light.

Funny how easy it felt to talk with Seo-yeon—and funny how I was only realizing it now, in Paris, even though we had spent a few months together on a film set back in Korea.

“Or maybe a love doctor consultation,” I added, playing along with her ironic joke before my tone grew more serious.

“I think I always knew, but I kept convincing myself to give the relationship a chance,” I admitted as we walked through the castle’s grand foyer.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting… I think it’s kind of similar to my situation.”

We let the conversation fade as we continued exploring the castle. Our discussion turned lighter, joking about the bathing habits of French royalty. One display explained how, in the Middle Ages, doctors advised people not to bathe because water was considered unsanitary.

“Oh, so that’s why there are so many perfume brands here,” I joked. Seo-yeon chuckled quietly.

Maybe we had more in common than I thought.

The castle was stunning, and through its grand windows, we could see the enchanting garden, complete with an enormous fountain that only flowed in spring and summer.

Before we knew it, the afternoon had slipped away, and we were ushered outside the castle.

“I’m starving,” I said, rubbing my stomach as we stepped into the courtyard.

“Let’s have dinner in Paris! I know a few places,” Seo-yeon exclaimed enthusiastically.

This is it—the moment of truth. Is she about to take me to some ultra-luxurious, five-course restaurant? One of those places where the wine and champagne list costs more than my monthly salary?

“Ah, but what do you feel like eating tonight? Something light? Or something hearty?”

Her question threw me off for a second. It was nice that she was asking. A simple gesture, something any decent person would do—but after being dragged around by Sun-hee without a say, it felt oddly refreshing.

“Tteokbokki,” I joked.

“I already miss tteokbokki too!” she said with a dreamy sigh, like she was imagining the spicy, chewy goodness right then and there. Another surprising statement from Princess Seo-yeon.

I let out a hearty laugh. “Jokes aside, I’m good with anything—I’m not picky.

But just a heads-up, I’m starving, so I’d prefer a big portion.

The other day, we had dinner near the Opéra, and the portions were tiny while the prices were outrageous,” I recounted the unfortunate soirée as we boarded the train back to Paris.

She nodded knowingly. “Of course. If you eat in a touristy area like that, it’s bound to be overpriced, and the food is usually just okay. Same everywhere!”

“That said, I think I know a place in Paris that serves huge portions of local specialties at a reasonable price. Want to go there?” she added.

A big portion of local food at a fair price—did I need any more convincing? Of course not. It was like she had read my mind. I nodded enthusiastically, more than happy with her suggestion.

About an hour later, we arrived at a quaint brasserie downtown—a cozy spot serving French specialties in a relaxed setting. Since it was still early for dinner, we managed to get a table, though a designated queuing area hinted at the usual peak-hour rush.

Scanning the menu, I spotted some intriguing options: Tête de veau … calf’s head. Rognon de b?uf … beef kidney.

“Hmm, yummy, yummy,” I mused, catching Seo-yeon’s expression of equal fascination from the corner of my eye.

“Are you feeling brave tonight?” she whispered.

“I am,” I whispered back conspiratorially. “It’s not that different from sundae or pork tripe, right?”

She shrugged. “I think I’ll go with something classic, like steak or rotisserie chicken.”

“Bo-ring…” I teased in a sing-song tone.

For a split second, something shifted in her expression—her eyes flickered, and she glanced down, a small frown forming.

I hesitated. Had I pushed too far? Maybe we weren’t that close yet.

“Ah, but if you’re in the mood for steak, that’s totally fine too,” I added quickly, clearing my throat in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Seo-yeon gave a small, sheepish smile and cleared her throat as well. “Or… maybe I could go for beef tartare,” she murmured, opting for something a little less conventional.

Oh no. Did I ruin everything? We’d had such a good time today—no endless photo-taking, no live-streaming. Just two people, fully present, enjoying Paris together.

The waiter arrived to take our order, and soon after, we sipped our wine in quiet contemplation.

“Actually… the casting director on my last project said I’m plain and boring,” Seo-yeon finally admitted after a long pause. “And after that comment, plus my breakup with my long-term boyfriend, I ran away to Paris…”

I stared at her, stunned. “You? Plain and boring?” My voice almost rose in disbelief. “Seo-yeon, you’re incredibly talented. You memorize lines effortlessly, you have this natural grace, and your eyes—there’s so much warmth in them. How could anyone look at you and think that?”

She gave a small, sheepish smile. “Well… he didn’t say it to my face.

I overheard it.” Her fingers traced the rim of her glass.

“But it made me question everything. My career, whether I’m really meant to be an actress…

And, you know, starting over in your thirties isn’t as romantic as in your twenties. It’s terrifying.”

She exhaled softly, then glanced at me. “And you don’t have to say all those nice things just to cheer me up.”

“I don’t say those things just to cheer you up—it’s the truth,” I said firmly.

“I played a role next to you for months. I know you’re a damn good actress.

There were times I felt jealous of how effortless and natural you were, like the role was written just for you.

” I explained, feeling a twinge of frustration that she didn’t seem to believe me.

Couldn’t she look in the mirror and see just how talented—and how beautiful—she is?

The waiter arrived with our food, and I muttered a quick “Merci.” This conversation had almost made me forget how starving I was.

Seo-yeon poked at her beef tartare absentmindedly, then shot me a knowing look, her lips curling into a smirk. “But wait… ‘warm eyes’?” she echoed, dragging out the words playfully. “You’ve got to explain that one.”

I hesitated, caught off guard. This time, I was the one looking sheepish. “Well…” I started slowly, focusing on cutting into my andouillette—a type of sausage made from pig’s intestine—buying myself a few seconds.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but while you might seem a little reserved—like a princess—you have warm, kind eyes. The kind that makes people feel at ease around you.”

“What’s with you and this princess thing?” she asked, huffing in playful annoyance.

“Of everything I said, that’s the part you’re stuck on?” I shook my head, half-amused, half-exasperated.

She laughed, taking another sip of wine, and just like that, the conversation drifted into lighter topics as we carried on with our evening.