Page 57 of ASAP


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This is our routine, sitting and chatting about our days before walking up the hill to the house together. The sweet, rich drink cool in the balmy spring night. The neighborhood quiet as the sky turns to dusk. Nathaniel, the back of his hand brushing against the back of mine. I’d never thought I’d have a favorite part of the day, but this becomes it.

After dinner with Ajumma, we spend a few hours in the living room together. He plays a video game while I snuggle in the corner of the couch reading a web novel.

Nathaniel’s phone lights up on the coffee table, but he doesn’t reach for it. He’s in the middle of an intense zombie battle. Then my own phone chirps with a message.

Are you busy?It’s from Sun.

When my phone rings with an incoming call, I get up fromthe couch and head to the kitchen. I balance the phone against the coffee maker, then press Accept, leaning back against the counter.

Sun’s not even at his phone when the video loads. I’m staring at an empty high-backed chair. Behind it is a floor-to-ceiling bookcase with works of classic literature and a few translated works from English and Japanese.

“Oh, you picked up,” I hear Sun say as he swivels the chair toward him, then sits down, rubbing his neck with a towel. He’s wearing a bathrobe and pajamas pants, his hair swept back from his face. “I called Nathaniel first. He didn’t bother picking up.”

I keep my expression neutral. Why would he mention Nathaniel to me? None of the members know that he’s been living with me.

“I have an unusual request,” Sun says. “It’s coming from the director of my drama. Apparently, he’s a MinLee fan.”

I’d been so worried that someone would discover our past relationship that I hadn’t thought our interactions onCatch Me If You Canwould have theoppositeeffect.

Apparently, we had so much chemistry on the episode that netizens started teasingly referring to us as “the MinLee couple.”

MinLee couple, Nathaniel had quipped,I guess that’s better than SoNath.

Of course, the irony is that, while people are happy for us to be in a fake relationship, if it werereal, all the support would turn to judgment and scorn.

“The director wants to capitalize on your fake relationship,” Sun says, uncapping a bottle of toner, splashing the product ontohis hands, then tapping it onto his face. “He asked me if I’d use you two for ratings, and I said, ‘I couldn’t have thought of a better idea myself.’”

The urge to roll my eyes is strong. “So what are you asking?”

“For you and Nathaniel to cameo in my drama. Your scenes will film this Thursday for the episode that will air next week. Most of the episode was filmed earlier, but the scriptwriter agreed to write in short roles for you two.”

“I see...” Sun’s drama follows the live-shoot system, so while the first few episodes were filmed beforehand, the others are being shot as the series airs. This way, the producers can make changes, like the inclusion of a cameo, or respond to viewer feedback to improve ratings.

“I’ll do it,” I say, “ifyou also let Hyemi appear on the episode.” I would have done it anyway, to support Sun, but I might as well leverage this opportunity for Hyemi’s sake.

“Woo Hyemi?” Sun raises a brow. “She’s the girl you’re mentoring, right? Whose debut will determine whether her father pays the big bucks.” He makes it all sound so mercenary.

“Is there a problem?” I say. “If you can’t do it, then—”

“No, I can.” He waves me off. “And this is perfect. I was feeling unnerved at the idea of owing you a favor.”

I look upward and hold that position. “What about Nathaniel?” I ask, recovering. “He might say no.”

“Oh, he’ll do it,” Sun says with complete confidence.

When I return to the living room, Nathaniel is waiting for a new map on his game to load. He looks up when I enter, a softsmile on his face. My heart beats a little faster. On the coffee table, his phone chirps with a new message.

“That’s from Sun-oppa,” I say quickly.

“Were you talking with Sun-hyeong in the kitchen just now?” He picks up his phone. I watch him read through the long message. “You said you’d do the cameo?”

“Yes.”

The map for the game loads. Nathaniel quickly writes out a response, then throws his phone onto the couch, picking up his controller and maneuvering his character to gathering weapons.

“What did you say?” I ask, annoyed that he’s so focused on his video game.

He glances at me. “You’re doing it, right? I said yes.”

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