Page 15 of From Paris to Seoul (K-Drama Love Story #2)

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Seo-yeon

Despite the unexpected turn of events in Paris and somehow ending up touring Versailles with my quiet, mysterious co-star, spending a day with Baekhyun was… surprisingly chill.

I thought it might be awkward, considering how reserved he was on set, but being around him felt easy—like I could finally breathe again.

That tight knot in my stomach, the one that had been there for days (or maybe even longer), was starting to loosen.

Conversation flowed naturally, like we were old friends catching up after years apart. I even felt comfortable sharing more personal details with him, which wasn’t something I did often.

After a daring culinary experience at a classic French brasserie (I suggested we each pay our share—after all, this wasn’t a date), we continued our stroll along the Seine, eventually deciding to take a boat tour. I’d done this exact thing 10 years ago, but Paris at night never lost its magic.

“ Mademoiselle , may I?” Baekhyun offered me his arm with a small smirk as we boarded the boat.

The night had taken on an easy, lighthearted rhythm, filled with playful banter.

“The correct term is Madame , actually. I’m in my mid-thirties—the perfect time for a mid-life crisis,” I quipped, mirroring his smirk but still slipping my hand through his arm.

“As long as you’re still single, you’re a Mademoiselle .”

“Ouch. That one went straight to the heart.”

On board the boat, we headed straight to the bar, where Baekhyun ordered two glasses of champagne in almost-perfect French.

“ Je vais prendre deux champagnes, s’il vous pla?t. ”

“Oh! You can speak French!” I said, surprised by this hidden talent.

“Well, ‘speaking French’ is a bit of an overstatement. Like, a way overstatement,” he admitted with a small laugh. “I just picked up a few words when I auditioned for a role that required French. But in the end, I didn’t get it—I was too stressed during the audition.”

“Oh,” I murmured. A short silence followed before I asked, as casually as I could, “Baekhyun-sshi… do you like being an actor?” I couldn’t help but wonder if others in the industry struggled with the same doubts I did.

Baekhyun hesitated for a moment before replying.

“I never really thought much about it, actually.” He let out a small sigh.

“After high school, I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. And… my family situation made university pretty much impossible. So, while I was working part-time at an internet café, someone scouted me for a coffee ad photoshoot. That’s how I ended up in this industry. ”

He shrugged, then added, “I don’t have the luxury of hating it—I just have to keep earning money for my mom and little sister.”

His answer hit me like a jolt of lightning. I suddenly realized how out of touch my question sounded.

Not knowing what else to say, I muttered, “Oh… I’m sorry…”

“What are you sorry for?” He smiled and raised his glass, proposing a toast to lighten the mood.

“And what about you?” he asked as the boat set off, gliding past the shimmering Eiffel Tower. “You said you’re doubting your career… so, what’s next?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “That’s… the big question, isn’t it? Like, who are we outside of being actors, actresses, models? Sometimes, you just don’t know what else to do, so you stay and keep working—because that’s what a responsible adult is supposed to do, right?”

Baekhyun took a slow sip of his wine before responding, “Yeah, but what do you want to do—if you weren’t busy being a ‘responsible adult’ doing what you’re supposed to do?” His laugh was light, but there was a slight trace of sarcasm in his tone.

“I don’t know your financial situation, but it’s probably a lot better than mine,” he continued with a wry smile.

“If I were you, I’d take a chance—travel the world, maybe become a musician…

or even a farmer. Or why not a musician farmer?

” He smirked. “And if I failed? I’d just start over.

Or maybe I’d simply live my life, invest in stocks, and never work another day.

You should see how lucky you are—so many choices, so many opportunities… ”

Somehow, our lighthearted banter had taken a more serious turn.

“It’s not that easy, you know…” I murmured, my voice carrying a tinge of defeat.

He shrugged again, seeming ready to change the subject. Stretching his arms, he looked more cheerful as he admired the sight of Musée d’Orsay in the distance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him glance at me. When he saw me fidgeting with my hands, he casually slipped off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

“Not trying to flirt with you or anything, but I just can’t ignore someone being cold,” he said with a grin.

I mumbled a quiet thanks.

Why did he even need to clarify that? It’s not like I would’ve thought about him that way anyway. He’s like four years younger than me and definitely not the kind of guy my parents would approve of. He doesn’t even have a university degree.

“If only we were allowed to smoke here, it’d be perfect,” he muttered, slipping a hand into his pocket as if itching to reach for a cigarette.

“I can’t understand how anyone finds pleasure in clogging their lungs with smoke.” I said, my tone disapproving—maybe even a little judgmental.

“You just enjoy it and don’t think too much about it,” he replied with a shrug.

Think too much… Plain… Boring… The words suddenly flashed through my mind.

“Right, I’ve been overthinking everything, and that’s how I became a boring person,” I concluded after a brief pause. “From now on, I’m just going to say yes to whatever comes my way!”

Even with his muffler covering part of his face, I could hear his amused snort. “Oh? Are you serious?” He turned to me with a raised eyebrow, as if challenging me—giving me one last chance to take it back.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I locked eyes with him, my gaze steady and determined.

He chuckled again, low and knowing. “This is going to be fun,” he murmured, his voice laced with something that sent an unexpected thrill down my spine.

***

I spent the next couple of days still exploring Paris and its surroundings with Baekhyun. We visited the Basilica of St. Denis, admiring its stunning stained-glass windows, spent an entire day wandering through the Louvre, and explored the Panthéon.

It felt like we were completely swept up in the magic of Paris, indulging in endless wine and cheese, momentarily forgetting about our lives—and our problems—back in Korea.

But as our departure date crept closer, an anxious knot formed in my stomach. I couldn’t stop worrying about what I would say to my agent (if I wasn’t fired already) and how I would face my family.

I had brief phone calls with my sister and Ji-a, but every time my mom called, I let it go to voicemail. I simply didn’t have the mental energy to deal with her wrath just yet.

Ji-a told me yesterday that she did her best to convince the agency I had to leave for an urgent ‘medical visit’ abroad—without giving them any real details.

The thought of facing them when I got back had kept me awake all night.

“You okay? You look a bit tired.”

Baekhyun’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as he placed our drinks on the open-terrace table—a latte for me, a glass of wine for himself. We were taking a break after wandering through the Palais-Royal.

I gave him a small, appreciative smile and tried to suppress a yawn. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep much last night,” I admitted drowsily.

“Why? Worried about what’s waiting for you in Korea?”

A direct hit. It was almost unsettling how easily he could read my mind.

“Kind of, yeah. I mean, I ran away here—so it’s not like I’m excited to go back.”

Baekhyun nodded, taking a slow sip of his wine. “I might have an idea to help you forget about all that for a while.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why do I feel like this is going to be something I’ll regret?” I groaned, though a small laugh escaped me.

“Let’s hit a nightclub tonight.”

“What? No way! I’m too old for that!”

He smirked. “Weren’t you the one who said you’d start saying yes to everything?”

Damn. Why did I have to say that? And why did he have to remember?

Still, despite my protest, a nervous flutter took hold within me. Before I knew it, night had fallen, and Baekhyun was half-dragging me through the streets of Paris.

I dressed as best as I could on short notice, but I still felt slightly out of place—unprepared, a little ridiculous, and more eager than I cared to admit.

“Which nightclub are we going to?” I called from behind, trying to keep up with Baekhyun’s long strides.

“Just follow me and you’ll find out soon enough!” he replied, extending a hand toward me. After a brief hesitation, I took it.

We wound our way through a narrow alley in the heart of Paris. At first glance, it looked like any other passage, lined with small shops, restaurants and dimly lit signs. But in the middle of that passage, there was a huge wooden door that felt out of place.

Baekhyun suddenly stopped in front of it and pulled it open. Beyond the door, a short corridor stretched ahead, and faintly, the thumping bass of electronic music pulsed through the air.

I swallowed hard, unsure where this night would lead. Had I ever been to a nightclub before? Maybe during my teenage years? I couldn’t remember. All my so-called wild memories seemed to come from TV dramas I’d watched or roles I’d played—scenes of friends and strangers partying in Itaewon.

My idea of a night out was more along the lines of dinner with a familiar group or, at most, a private karaoke session.

I watched as Baekhyun exchanged a few words with the bouncer. With a simple nod, the man stepped aside and let us in.

Not wanting to stand out, I fought the urge to cover my ears—but the pounding bass was already threatening to overwhelm me. Red, yellow, and green lights flashed wildly across the dance floor, casting chaotic shadows over the moving crowd.