It is late November.

Coming from work, I’ve decided to run a few laps around the river. Certain things are running through my mind and I need to clear them out. After the end of Byeoreseo on geudae, I am debt and burdened of being another great actor in a drama. I need to work on my stamina, and more importantly, to my feelings. It’s a great deal that I have a power and control over my emotions as an actor—or I see fit.

It’s so cold but the energy I’m expending is too much, so I end up sweating while releasing steam out of my mouth and nose. I enter a small alleyway, a shortcut to my apartment, when I see her.

She’s crouched against a wall, her sobs filling the midnight air with reverie. I can’t pick up her complaints because I don’t have super hearing after all.

I stop immediately, my running shoes making a squeaky sound with the sudden stop and breathlessly and sweaty, went to her.

“Are you okay?” I ask, still breathless, and grab my towel from my kangaroo pocket. She looks up and I am momentarily taken aback.

She’s just plain beautiful.

“Do Minjoon?” She asks, sniffing and sobbing at the same time. Instead of wiping my sweat, I hand her my towel and as she wipes her tears, I bend my knees to level my eyes with hers.

I remember her: Sandara Park. She had a cameo at Byeoreseo on geudae on the last episode. It’s a small cameo to promote her.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I just remembered something while going back to the agency and I can’t even—“ She stops, shaking her head. “Forget. I can’t forget everything. I just—“ She hugs her knees as a reflexive. “Can’t. Why can he?”

There it is: my sense of protecting. I want her. Something inside me says it. When I first saw her I know she’s beautiful—but never this fragile. I can get hurt again but that’s what love is. You chase for the first place. 70% who use their effort and determination wins. 30% are those with talent. And if ever I am in the 70%, it’s a good chance.

“Th