Page 15 of Public Image, Private Heart (K-Drama Love Story #1)
??
Ji-yong
T he beginning of the day seemed unusually bright—not to the point of rainbows or birds singing to me, but almost.
“Hello, Min-hee! Hi, Chungho! How are you, Sangwook?” I practically skipped on my way to the studio, earning some bizarre looks as everyone observed my overly cheerful behavior.
Sangwook moved in closer and whispered, “The samgyupsal really worked, huh?” I just nodded silently with a wide grin. Okay, maybe I needed to tone down my chirpiness, but I couldn’t help it—I felt incredibly happy this morning, like something special had just begun.
My mind wandered to what happened with Yumi the night before, and a sheepish grin formed on my face. I suddenly felt like a teenager again. And it wasn’t just the act of procreation—it was something different, something special.
I tried to focus on my work, but the flashbacks from yesterday kept intruding. Her eagerness, her touch, and the sounds she made when I touched her in the right spot kept replaying in my mind.
I know I need to talk to her and ask her to be my girlfriend—there’s no doubt about that.
But it has to be special. Maybe an elaborate dinner with a bouquet of flowers?
Or why not a secret getaway to another country where no one recognizes me, and we can visit museums, amusement parks, and see movies—just the two of us?
Nah, let’s not go overboard with it. It sounds great, but our schedules won’t allow it. I kept making plans in my head while following the crew to prepare for the day’s shooting.
Suddenly, being close to Min-hee, even though it’s just acting, didn’t feel right.
“Ji-yong, this is the fourth time we’ve had to retake this scene.
Please concentrate,” the PD chimed in, looking increasingly impatient.
Min-hee gave me a look that seemed to say, “Yo, what’s up with you today?
” I shook my head, trying to regain my focus instead of wondering how Yumi was doing with that jerk Ryan and if I should invite her over again tonight to my place.
“Let’s meet at this restaurant tonight?” I excitedly texted Yumi a few hours before the end of my shoot.
I shared the restaurant address and instructions for her arrival so she could be guided into the private room.
Once I received her positive response, I grinned and quickly texted Sangwook for another favor.
The day dragged on, and the difficult shooting conditions weren’t helping.
It was exceptionally hot in the studio, and everyone seemed more short-fused than usual.
Both Min-hee and I fumbled in front of the green screen, trying to convincingly portray lovers against a backdrop of an isolated countryside that would be added in post-production.
We needed to shoot another kissing scene, but I felt very uncomfortable. A pang of guilt hit me for kissing someone who wasn’t Yumi, especially after what happened last night with her—even though it was just acting.
I knew I had to stay professional; this is part of my job.
Actors receive a script, and we act it out, no questions asked (well, sometimes we do have questions or suggestions, but generally, altering the script isn’t our role).
I made sure my lips barely touched Min-hee’s, only doing what was absolutely necessary.
As the day wore on with more and more takes, I worried we might have to work overtime, jeopardizing my dinner plans with Yumi. Thankfully, the shoot ended just an hour later than planned. Though I couldn’t go home to freshen up, at least I wouldn’t be late for our dinner.
I glanced at the seat next to me in my car, satisfied with the large bucket of flowers (mostly roses with some cosmos flowers as our personal touch) that I (or rather, Sangwook) had picked up for Yumi.
Tonight, I planned to ask her to be my girlfriend. I drove to the upscale rooftop restaurant, excitement bubbling inside me.
Upon arrival, I put on my mask and rode the elevator to the 47th floor. Being a Friday night, the restaurant was busier than usual. I greeted the hostess with a nod and handed her my name card. She glanced at it, nodded, and began to guide me to the VIP room.
Just a few steps in, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around in surprise.
One of my worst fears had materialized—someone had recognized me in public despite my mask.
“Ji-yong, is that you?” a deep male voice called out.
I turned to see an old family friend, the renowned abstract painter Uncle Sung-hoon.
“Oh, hello, Uncle Sung-hoon,” I said, with no choice but to greet him with a polite bow while keeping my mask on. “Long time no see!”
He laughed, his distinctive high-pitched laugh drawing curious glances from nearby tables.
“Ji-yong, how are your parents? I should catch up with them; it’s been ages!” he boomed. “And how rude of me, sorry. This is my Hye-jin.” The young woman beside him, looking awkward, nodded and gave a small bow. She must be Uncle Sung-hoon’s latest wife. The third? Maybe the fourth?
I extended my hand to greet her. A creeping panic began to set in as more heads turned our way, their curiosity piqued by the commotion.
“Hye-jin is a big fan of yours!” Uncle Sung-hoon announced, rubbing his chin as he tried to remember the title of the drama. “She always watched your shows. What was the last one? Princess... something...?” Hye-jin, standing beside him, remained silent and looked slightly embarrassed.
Uncle Sung-hoon then glanced at the bouquet of flowers I was holding and continued, his voice rising despite his attempt at a whisper, “Oh, are you here for a special occasion?” He leaned in closer, but his booming voice made it less of a whisper and more of a loud murmur, “With your girlfriend ?!”
His high-pitched laugh followed, and I felt the weight of the situation. Eyes around us were now fixed in our direction, and murmurs of recognition started to spread.
“Is that really Ryu Ji-yong? My daughter would die to meet him!” one person exclaimed.
“Oh, I should get his autograph!” another added.
As a small crowd began to form and some people started taking photos, I tried to remain calm and polite.
Unfortunately, the evening seemed to be unraveling quickly.
Just then, I saw Yumi walk in. Her eyes widened in surprise, and although she was wearing a mask, she quickly made a beeline for the exit, clearly understanding the situation’s gravity.
The crowd around us grew larger, with some people posing for photos and others snapping away with their phones, even making video calls to show off their celebrity sighting.
A few respectful ones asked, “May I take a picture with you?” but many others were more intrusive, capturing every moment and adding to the chaos.
The scene quickly escalated into a chaotic whirlwind. As I attempted to navigate through the throng of fans, my mind raced. My initial plan for a romantic dinner with Yumi was slipping through my fingers like sand.
Uncle Sung-hoon, oblivious to the growing crowd’s impact, continued his loud and enthusiastic commentary. “Ji-yong, you’re always so humble about your work! I remember when you were just starting out. Look at you now!” His voice boomed, further attracting attention.
Hye-jin, still by his side, gave me an apologetic smile, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Despite her unease, she seemed to be caught in the same wave of excitement and curiosity as everyone else.
I turned my attention back to the sea of faces.
With every flash of a camera and every shout for an autograph, the restaurant’s ambiance grew more strained.
The staff, though professional, looked overwhelmed.
A few waiters attempted to manage the crowd, but their efforts were no match for the sheer number of people clamoring for a glimpse.
In the midst of this, I managed to check on my phone and saw text from Yumi, “I’ll wait for you at your place?” and “I hope you’ll get home safely.” With a winking emoji.
With a deep breath, I decided to address the crowd. I raised my hands to get their attention, calling out, “I’m sorry, everyone. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I need to go. Please, let’s respect everyone’s privacy.” I tried to sound as calm and composed as possible, though my heart was racing.
With a quick apology to the remaining diners and a hurried farewell to Uncle Sung-hoon, I practically fled the restaurant. My spirits were as deflated as the wilted bouquet I carried, and as I slid into my car, I felt frustrated that the evening had spiraled far beyond my control.
By the time I pulled into my driveway, I was completely drained.
The grueling hours at the studio, coupled with the unexpected chaos at the restaurant, had left me feeling both exhausted and defeated.
I regretted dismissing my bodyguards. Although I do have them, I naively believed that their presence would attract unwanted attention.
Most of the time, I thought they were only necessary for official events with large crowds.
I saw Yumi waiting patiently by my front door, her presence a beacon of relief in the dim light.
I couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft kiss to her lips, seeking comfort in that simple gesture.
“I’m so sorry, Yumi,” I murmured, my voice tinged with regret.
“I really wanted tonight to be special.”
She shook her head gently, her understanding gaze easing my guilt. “It’s okay. We can have dinner at the restaurant together next time,” she assured me, her voice soothing as we stepped into my apartment.
She set down her things on the sofa with a casual grace that only made her more endearing.
I handed her the flowers with an apologetic shrug. The bouquet had seen better days, but it was the thought that counted. “This is for you,” I said softly, feeling a pang of disappointment as I headed toward the fridge to fetch us some drinks.
Her eyes lit up as she accepted the flowers, and she inhaled their scent with a smile. “Cosmos flowers,” she noted, her eyes twinkling with delight. Her reaction warmed my heart, and I couldn’t resist leaning in for another tender kiss.
I soon offered her a couple of soft drinks, which she accepted with a grateful nod. As she wandered around my kitchen, she seemed to be formulating a plan. Her gaze swept over the cabinets and fridge, a playful sparkle in her eyes as she silently asked, “May I?”
I gave her a hesitant nod, unsure of what she might find. She opened the cabinet, and a puff of dust seemed to escape, revealing three packets of instant noodles that looked as forlorn as I felt. Unperturbed, she moved to the fridge, where she discovered a solitary pack of eggs on the top shelf.
But her eyes sparkled once she checked the bottom part of the fridge and turned to me with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Who needs a five-star restaurant dinner when we have food from your grandmother?!” she exclaimed, as if she’d found a hidden treasure.
I chuckled at her enthusiasm. She sure is easy to please.
And being with her feels like home. I took a mental note to make it up to her, maybe with a private island getaway so no one could bother us.
She waved at several food containers, seeking my approval, and I gave her a nod.
She then quickly moved to heat up the food from my grandmother while I excused myself to take a shower.
Not long after, we settled into what seemed to be our new routine: savoring dinner on my patio and sharing stories about our day.
I hesitated to pop the question and ask her to be my girlfriend, deciding instead to wait and plan for a more special occasion.
A small part of me, though, felt a twinge of fear.
It wasn’t about my feelings for her, but about the possibility that making things official might diminish the magic between us.
I worried about the complications of public announcements and their potential impact on both of our careers, especially hers.
I pushed aside the thought for now and focused on the present. “Yumi, is there something special you’d like to do for a night out? I mean, it’s not ideal that we keep hanging out at my place or yours,” I asked as I poured two generous glasses of wine.
Yumi let out a thoughtful hum before answering, “Well, I’d love to go out for dinner at my favorite restaurant or catch a movie at the cinema, but I know that’s probably out of the question with you,” she teased with a small smirk.
“To be honest, I don’t mind hanging out here or at my place. I’m not really someone who enjoys going out much. But sometimes... I do miss picking out a dress and getting all dolled up.” She took a sip of my wine as she spoke.
I nodded, “I get it. But you look amazing no matter what you wear,” I said, taking a sip of my wine. “Especially when you wear nothing.”
She playfully hit my arm before asking, “And you? What would you like to do most if we went out?”
“Hmm... me? I’m not really sure... I used to organize meetups with celebrity friends at private spots from time to time,” I replied with a wink, remembering the karaoke night where she’d looked so nervous.
“But now, I feel a bit too old for getting wasted and making small talk with acquaintances,” I said sheepishly.
“Honestly, I really miss eating udon or tteokbokki at those street stalls with plastic tents. My brother Ji-sung and I used to sneak off to this place near our school. My mom always found out and scolded us, though.” I chuckled, reminiscing about those good old days, fully aware that with my fame now, it’s something I can’t do anymore.
Yumi gave a hum of acknowledgment before shifting the conversation to the upcoming awards ceremony, where we’d both be attending as cast members of Princess of Cosmos . We were hopeful that our drama would receive plenty of accolades.
She then recounted her challenging day on set, mentioning difficulties with Ryan, concerns about their on-screen chemistry, and worries that the drama might not be well-received by the public.
I tried to reassure her, but as I listened, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was withholding some details.
After we cleaned up, we headed to my room. She excused herself to the bathroom, playfully waving her toothbrush as if signaling her intention to stay over tonight. I smiled, pleased to see that my instinct was right—there’s so much more to Yumi than just her shy, introverted side.