“I’m really really really sorry,” I told Jongin, as soon as he ended his phone call.

We were on the way to the shooting location when Jongin’s manager called. Because he was a safe driver, Jongin merely reached for the stereo and let their conversation resonate through the car. Apparently, the set had to be cancelled because there were too many uninvited media personnel, waiting to ambush me after last night’s event. Thankfully, Jongin’s manager did not express any annoyance over it. He must have realized I was in the car with Jongin even when I stayed silent the whole time.

“It’s good,” Jongin replied, taking a side glance at me with a little playful smile on his face. “Now I finally have free time.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“I am actually nice,” Jongin quickly rebutted, and despite all the insecurities I felt over my newfound situation, I let out a small laugh.

After much indecision, I finally turned my phone open only to see about a hundred voicemails and messages. Most of them were from my management, my manager Boyoung, my dad and mom, Sehun, and my other friends. I clicked open a few of my manager’s first, only because I felt so sorry to her. Clearly, she was so angry with me, but her voice went milder as I listened to more recent ones, probably because of worry that I was going all of a sudden MIA. She also told me about my schedule cancellations for the day.

“I know I shouldn’t say this,” Jongin suddenly interjected, after closing one voicemail from Boyoung where her shouts can clearly be heard, “but it’s kind of amusing, hearing you get reprimanded.”

“You must get along well with your manager, then,” I told him. “And you should hear my mom, she still scolds me like I’m a 5-year old.”

“Taewan-hyung -- that’s the name of my manager -- just understands even when I don’t say anything,” Jongin said. I nodded in response, letting him know I’m still listening even when I’m typing a response to Sehun’s frantic messages. He was asking me where I was because my parents told him I didn’t go home. Knowing Sehun, I know he omitted the fact that my mom shouted at him. I wrote quickly a reply that I’m just about to go home.

“Boyoung-unni just recently became my manager, so I feel really sorry to her this time,” I informed Jongin. “She was assigned to me before we did the script reading.”

“I see,” he nodded. “What happened to the last one?”

I briefly stopped typing on my phone and looked at Jongin, wondering if I should respond at all. I did anyway. “The company let her go after some deliberations. They decided she wasn’t doing her job well, after my last issue.”

Jongin was able to look at me because of the red light. “Right. That.”

My slapping incident was of national import so I didn’t doubt Jongin knew about it. “Yes, that.” I agreed.

“Where’s your house?” he suddenly asked. “I’ll drive you.”

“I’d really like to say – ‘no, I can ride the subway on my own, thanks,” I sighed deeply. “But I probably can’t.”

“Yes, you can’t,” Jongin grinned.

“I can’t believe I’ve become so indebted to you in less than 24 hours,” I proclaimed. Jongin chuckled. He lent me his phone so I can type my address on his live navigation.

He took a quick look at his phone as I said in afterthought, “Won’t you ask?”

“What?” he said.

“Why I slapped a top star?”

“Hmm, violence isn’t something I approve,” Jongin said solemnly, and suddenly I felt that shame again, as if I slapped Soojin just yesterday and everyone around me is boring holes in my head with their judgmental eyes.

“Righ—“ I was about to say, looking down on my lap and pretending to check my phone messages again.

“But I’m sure you have your reasons,” Jongin quickly added. “And I still want to be your friend.”

I couldn’t understand how Jongin can be so nice to me when we’ve barely talked about personal matters during the course of our work together which had already gone on for 3 months. I dare say he seemed even nicer than Sehun, which is really something, coming from me. I really should have interacted with him more, and not when our show’s about to end.

“I’ll tell you the reason,” I softly said. “Some other time.”

“Then I’ll keep a soju in my car,” Jongin teased.

We kept our small talks going like that for the rest of the ride, which was a really good distraction for me. Personally, I thought Jongin was exerting an effort to keep a good conversation, maybe because he felt sorry for me, or because he didn’t want to be uncomfortable with so much dead air. However, we soon found out when we reached my suburb that there were also some journalists loitering on the subdivision gate. I warned Jongin to stop driving immediately, but he merely gave me a reassuring smile. Apparently, Jongin thought about the whole situation more than I do. He was using a car that he rarely uses out, and the windows were darkly-tinted for anyone to get a good idea of who were inside. He went past the journalists, and opened his side’s window only slightly next to the guardhouse, just enough to hand in my ID. The guard nodded in understanding and let us past. I took a quick look outside, and realized how no one was paying so much attention to us.

Really, Jongin is not an ordinary guy. He already seemed a veteran with his cautiousness.

He pulled by the driveway as soon as we reached my house. I stepped out of his car gently. While wondering if I should invite him inside, the front door of our house flew open and out came my mom. Her face was fixed deadly emotionless, as if she can’t wait to get me inside so she can scold me for how long she wants to. Clearly, she was not about to make a scene when she doesn’n t eveknow who I’m with.

“Uh-oh,” I reacted thoughtlessly.

“Should I go say hi?” Jongin asked me uncertainly. My mom has not visited me on set yet of our webdrama, so she hasn’t personally interacted with Jongin yet.

“I don’t think now’s a good idea but…”

“I can buy you a bit of time, before world war III?” Jongin supplanted, clearly reading what’s on my mind.

He stepped out of the car to stand next to me. But just as he did, another person stepped out of our house in broad daylight. Oh Sehun. He clearly was surprised that out of everyone that I can be with at this moment, it was Kim Jongin. As far as I know, they hadn’t interacted in any show. I also haven’t talked about being friends with Jongin at all, although he knew we were starring together on a drama. Still, it took about half a minute before Sehun could compose his face. I made a look expressing that I would explain to him soon.

“Now, I also think it isn’t a good idea,” Jongin whispered to me, staring at Sehun.

I grimly nodded, “Sorry.”

Jongin and I walked together closer to my mom. Sehun didn’t walk any further away from our front door, and I had a brief thought that he was being rather rude to Jongin, not even saying hello for their first time meeting although it was purely coincidental. On the other hand, Jongin seemed to have interacted well with adults as he was able to introduce himself nicely to my mom and informed her that he just came by to drop me off. My mom smiled back at Jongin and invited him to have breakfast in the house. Jongin politely said no, taking a quick glance at Sehun which I’m sure I’m the only one who noticed. He said he’d come by next time, although silently I’m wishing there wouldn’t be any next time for a situation as awkward as this.

My mom waited for Jongin’s car to disappear completely from our sight before grabbing my wrist and pulling me inside the house. She also shot a glare at Sehun, who followed silently behind me. Sehun didn’t have to explain why he was here at this hour, although I admit it slightly surprised me. I’m sure as hell my mom demanded him to appear as soon as possible to explain the whole situation.

Inside, I found my dad and Boyoung-unni already sitting around our dining table. My dad had a breakfast plate in front of him, while Boyoung only had a mug of coffee. I quickly shot an apologetic look at her. Mom took a seat right next to my dad so that they were sitting on one side, as if the three of them were a panel of judges.

I took a seat opposite my dad who looked the calmest, while Sehun sat opposite to my mom.

“Your daughter finally showed up,” my mom immediately said tight-lipped. I was suddenly so sure she probably did so much shouting already last night, so she’s using her other form for arguing -- the cold one.

Our househelp, Min Ju, poured me a glass of coffee. Despite the anxiety I was feeling at that moment, I noticed her take a quick glance at Sehun. She was just a little over her thirties, and has already been with us for two years, so I know she’s also a fan of Sehun, and is still surprised when he comes by our house.

“You okay?” my dad asked calmly. My dad cared little about me entering show business, it was my mom who did all she can to make me join The Voice when I was younger. I think it was her dream to become an actress herself, so she poured her all on me. In contrast, my dad just wants me to pursue the things I want without