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It starts with Dispatch. Of course it does, those shit stirrers.
They’ve axed more careers over the years than the last two recessions combined and apparently, Jinyoung’s is next on their chopping block.
Success in entertainment, Park Jinyoung (the first) had once said, is measured by money and how badly the people around you will pay out of their own pocket to see you fall.
By virtue of Dispatch being the hallmark of true infamy, Jinyoung’s career has officially made it. His parents would be proud, for one, if not for the content of the post.
IM JAEBUM AND PARK JINYOUNG: BAD BLOOD OF FORLORN LOVERS???
-is Jinyoung’s favorite title so far, followed closely by:
IM JAEBUM AND PARK JINYOUNG ROMANCE CAUSES JYP STOCK TO SKYROCKET, QUARTERLY REPORT TO FOLLOW
-which is flattering to say the least.
There’s a dozen more articles all focused on the same implications. They're not entirely wrong. It's mostly just a pity that it had to come to Dispatch, Jinyoung thinks scrolling through the headlines flippantly.
His finger swipes down the side of his iPad, the text blurring from the movement. He sees a photo, two or three, and then a dozen more of him and Jaebum. The one his finger lands on is recent, maybe from the past month or so.
They’re smiling- pleasant and cordial in front of the public. It’s a public gala with the two of them dressed to the nines. Jinyoung thinks he recognizes the tie around Jaebum’s neck, remembers the texture of silk muffled against his lips when Jaebum fucked him backstage that day.
That picture is not the point of the post.
(Although Jinyoung almost prefers for it to be in comparison to the wild mess of Pann posts and comments below this one, the ones that dig through every interaction between him and Jaebum since the dawn of time.)
Jinyoung chuckles at the sight of the messily constructed timeline at the end of the post. Someone clearly has done their research. Mass speculation, as it turns out, can be just as harmful as damning evidence. Just ask Tablo. Who needs to leak a sextape to the world when the masses can just speculate their interactions until the mob fascination becomes reality?
Yet Jinyoung’s not worried about his career. Not as much as Jaebum is probably at this moment. His career, after all, is built on slippery rock- the kind that promises straight laced romance and metrosexuality for the sake of magazine shoots, and only that.
Jinyoung, by comparison, has played a homosexual court jester who seduced a Joseon King to save his people. Don’t ask, it’s a long story.
At the same time, it’s jarring watching the view counts skyrocket as his manager texts him quiet updates and then, in a moment of silent panic, hands the situation over to JYP’s legal department. It’s not like Jinyoung hasn’t had to deal with scandals beforehand, but the slow buildup to the blow up is unsettling to say the least.
Maybe Jinyoung should have just tweeted some nudes of Jaebum and waited for both their legal department to lose their shit. An axe to his career rather than slow poison. It would have been more fun at least from his perspective, not that their lawyers haven’t already lost their shit that is. The real fun will come later.
His phone rings, once, twice and Jinyoung drops it on the table after checking the number.
So yeah, maybe Jinyoung looked at Jaebum with a little more disdain than usual on stage at the 53rd Baeksang Awards in a way that Dispatch would later describe as “heated and passionate.”
It wasn’t much more than a glare, really, but it takes two to tango and Jaebum’s just as guilty for returning the look in a way that Dispatch had no problems translating into: THEY ARE 100% FUCKING. QUICK SEARCH FOR COUPLE ITEMS. DIG THROUGH THEIR INSTAGRAMS AND LEAVE NO SOCIAL MEDIA FOOTPRINT UNTURNED.
Subtlety is not Jinyoung's strong point, so when his PR team calls him in for damage control on account for “eye fucking” Im Jaebum on stage, Jinyoung can’t say he’s surprised. The article that follows the blurry pictures is downright hilarious. It's tabloid journalism at its finest and Jinyoung may or may not be narcissistic enough to save a copy of it onto his tablet in case his lawyers get it taken down before morning.
It’s not all for his ego though.
As much as he loathes to hand it to Dispatch, there’s truth in the articles as much as there is slander. Jinyoung did meet up with Jaebum at the end of year gayos this year and he was maybe, just maybe fucking him too. Dispatch had it all wrong though as far as the start of their relationship was concerned though, and it most certainly didn’t begin with them stirring the rumor pot with blurry, night-lens shots anyways.
This whole thing really started back with Jaebum’s bad blood with JYP Entertainment and the fact that while loyalty is in Jinyoung’s blood, it doesn’t mean he’s not an opportunist at heart either.
---
Im Jaebum’s existence as JB makes him both the second JB to surpass 80 million views on a Youtube video as well as the second Jaebum to leave JYP to become a more than mildly successful solo artist. Beyond the solo act, Jaebum's also got his own company- an independent label filled with high end swag or whatever. Yet even those milestones can’t quite beat Jinyoung’s legacy as the second Park Jinyoung to take to the silver screen and the only one to charm the entire nation with his debut film.
Jinyoung is not an entertainer, not the way his CEO is. The comparisons are endless- the talk of every pun loving netizen, but Jinyoung’s never going to be CEO or dance in plastic pants as a half-assed coping mechanism against a midlife crisis.
Just like how Jaebum is not the same Korean-American who leaves JYP for a solo career, although his departure leaves his respective band just as startled and equally leaderless and his former fans spitting the word Judas at the blazing trail of his fast fame.
Jinyoung likes to think they’re a unique pair. Some high rise combination of historical bad blood and fast-swapped hotel keys. He’s not sure what Jaebum thinks of them outside of the sinful fit of Jinyoung’s legs wrapped around his waist.
It’s just sex and flights, more sex and the curve of Jinyoung’s cheek laid perfectly against the column of Jaebum’s throat.
They never have time to think much past it.
---
The first event Jinyoung has in the wake of the Dispatch discovery is back in Seoul, perfect timing if he’s honest.
He flies in through Gimpo, preferring it to the chaos of Incheon. The smaller terminals make it easier for him to sneak through with less time out in the open. The security here treats him better too. Jinyoung takes the back route at the airport to avoid the paparazzi and puts on his sunglasses long before the sunlight even hits his face.
His driver takes him to the hotel where Jinyoung bunkers down for the night, digging his way through manuscript after manuscript until his eyes start blurring. He’s made it through half of the giant stack perched on his coffee table, when the sound of thunder outside his window snaps his concentration.
In a moment of weakness he checks his phone, unsurprised to find that it’s blown up with messages and missed calls from an unsaved number. Trust Jaebum to be paranoid enough to switch numbers overnight.
He flips open the messenger app and stifles a small chuckle. Predictably the first half of the messages are Jaebum freaking out, enough expletives peppered in the speech bubbles to get Jinyoung rights to a restraining order if he took them out of context.
He scrolls down to the bottom, wincing as he sees the last message had been sent more than an hour ago.
23:22 we need to talk.
23:24 meet me at x. same code as before.
Jinyoung knows he doesn’t mean just talk, knows that he knows he’ll probably spend the night there and that sneaking out in daylight will be hell. Regardless, he pulls out a couple of shirts and throws it into his duffle bag.
He can’t afford to be caught wearing Jaebum’s shirts anymore, which is a pity because Jaebum’s fashion is really something else.
---
He's dripping puddles onto the welcome mat by the time Jaebum answers the door.
It’s roughly an hour drive from Gimpo up to Goyangi where Jaebum’s secondary penthouse is located. Jinyoung spent most of the ride memorizing lines- half of them from his scripts and the other half in preparation to face Jaebum.
“You must be really bored,” Jinyoung observes plainly. He takes in the rucked up state of Jaebum’s penthouse: the scattered envelops below the coffee table and the loose packets of sugar, half empty beyond them.
He sneaks a look behind him, wondering if Dispatch is dedicated enough to collect evidence on water puddles- of which Jinyoung has left plenty in the hallway and the elevator coming in.
"You look wet," Jaebum says, which sends Jinyoung's eyes rolling before he can help it, as he steps in and accepts the towel from Jaebum with a strained smile.
"So are we doing negotiations here?" Jinyoung says smartly. "In case we get chased out of the country and our careers hit rock bottom, we should figure out how to divide everything."
"That's not going to happen," Jaebum mutters through clenched teeth. Jinyoung watches him pace around the living room, leaving track patterns in the thick carpet. He pats the towel across the back of his neck, feeling goosebumps raise in response to the heavy air conditioning. "You don't know that."
Jaebum glares, his fists clenched tight. Jinyoung watches him breathe deeply, a heavy inhale. “I didn’t come here to fight.”
"Me neither," Jinyoung admits. He shucks off his jacket and unbuttons his collar, pressing the towel against his chest to collect the wayward rain.
"We have to be more careful from now on," Jaebum says mutely. Jinyoung watches his gaze slide down, hungry as Jinyoung peels off his wet shirt. He lays it over the back of the couch as Jaebum closes the distance between them. "You should leave before the sun rises."
“Then hurry it up,” Jinyoung laughs, letting his full weight fall against the couch as Jaebum pushes him back. "You're always the one who takes too long. You'll get us caught."
“Then tell me to stop,” Jaebum hisses. Jinyoung pushes a hand up his shirt, feeling hard muscle and the hot skin of Jaebum’s chest and bites into Jaebum’s lower lip. Jaebum pushes him back, the weight of his hand resting down on Jinyoung’s shoulder.
“Stop fucking around,” Jinyoung answers tonelessly. Jaebum’s laughter hits the side of his cheek when he pulls off the couch to lead them into the bedroom.
“I would never,” Jaebum taunts.
The tapping of the rain against the window sounds like camera shutters- the lightning like flashes. Jinyoung lays his head back against the pillows and lets Jaebum consume him, loud and hungry like they’re putting on a show for the weather.
---
They don’t get more careful.
If anything, the idea of getting caught makes Jinyoung all the more willing to bend to Jaebum’s schedule- much to the chagrin of the publicity heads of both their companies. Their tryst in Seoul leads into a weekend together in Incheon. It's reckless what they're doing, but Jinyoung likes it that way.
Exercising caution is after all, a habit, and habits take time.
Time is unfortunately something scarce on both their schedules, so Jinyoung boils it back down to the simple question: What’s the worst that can happen? -and more optimistically- What if we just don't get caught?
It's that precise logic that lands them both in Jaebum's sleek BMW, parked outside by a quiet street past 2AM with their legs locked together and fingers fumbling with stubborn buttons.
“Shit,” Jaebum breathes, cheeks flushed a hard red. He's laughing though, eyes squinting in mirth as Jinyoung struggles with his zipper within the confines of the seats. Even with the back seat all the way down, there's barely any room for Jinyoung to move, let along rock against Jaebum's body.
In the darkness, Jinyoung can see Jaebum’s eyes gleam. “Are we actually going to fuck in my car?"
“Why not? But are we gonna do it with the roof down?” Jinyoung challenges, fingers already working down the middle of Jaebum’s button up. His skin is hot against Jinyoung’s, flushed with the adrenaline of knowledge they might get caught.
By some miracle, they manage to get enough of their clothes off to fuck properly. Jinyoung’s hands scrabble against the leather, fingers slipping with each thrust. The sweat on his palm makes it hard to hold onto anything besides Jaebum, but it doesn't explain the way Jaebum keeps touching their foreheads together or the soft curling of Jaebum's hand padding the back of his head against the seat.
They both come quickly- too rushed for it to feel complete, too brief to feel the haze of their orgasms linger, but there's no stopping time or the ease in which Jinyoung untangles their limbs and throws his jacket back over his shoulders. They're off to their respective schedules with nothing but the lingering heat and the thrill of 'almost' thrumming through their veins.
---
It’s New York two weeks later. Jaebum’s got a decent sized gig for some venues Jinyoung's never heard of and Jinyoung’s got fashion week lined up.
They’ve got a secret penthouse on the top floor booked for the week, room service lined up from bottle to bottle. It's an optimistic approach considering how hard it is to carve out time when their schedules are packed from day to day, but they book the room just in case.
The week positively drags.
Don't get him wrong, Jinyoung likes New York. He likes the grit of the city and the high rises above it, but more than that he likes that there are enough famous people constantly shuffling back and forth through the city that no one gives a shit about two korean b-listers and even less if they're fucking one another.
America after all is the land of the free, and that freedom is as debilitating as it is liberating.
Jinyoung makes out with a model backstage on the second day after Jaebum leaves him hanging. He's tall and broad-shouldered with cheekbones to slice glass with. Jinyoung pushes him against the wall and sinks his teeth against the soft skin of his neck, just hard enough to sting. Jinyoung tastes him through a mouthful of concealer and smiles.
"No marks," the guy gasps. Jinyoung lets out a huff in annoyance, but complies all the same. They don't make it any further than that before the guy snakes out of Jinyoung's hold to return on stage and slips a number in his back pocket. Jinyoung watches him leave and wonders if it's too bold, too daring of him to bring him to the penthouse to fuck. It's not like he and Jaebum are using it.
Or maybe he is.
Jaebum will probably fuck a groupie or two after his concert in the backrooms as soon as his after party finishes. Jinyoung knows this because he's tasted the cherry tint of lip gloss and smelled the barest hint of lily perfume dashed against Jaebum's neck before. He's seen the hickies on Jaebum's skin and the scratches he's never left before. He's not the only one, even Dispatch has seen, speculated which girl had caught Im Jaebum's fancy for this week of the year and tried very hard to seek them out.
Jinyoung doesn't mind. They both like it when they taste the sweetest bit like someone else. It keeps thing interesting.
No one keeps it more interesting than Jinyoung though and that's precisely why Jaebum keeps coming back for more. It's not narcissism, it's fact.
He's fiddling with his phone later that night, thinking of the model's long slender legs and how pretty he would beg when his phone buzzes. Another unregistered number. The message is the same as always.
21:36 are you busy?
---
Jaebum smells like jasmine, something sickly sweet, when Jinyoung enters the penthouse.
"What took you so long?" Jaebum asks. He shrugs his jacket off and Jinyoung finds himself doing the same. "Traffic," he answers softly. "The usual."
Jaebum’s pressing him down against the bed when Jinyoung sees the huge open window, overlooking 25 stories of metropolitan dreams.
Jaebum follows his gaze out by the window. His spine going rigid.
“You’re crazy,” Jaebum says, voice border lining wonder and Jinyoung wishes he didn’t love that tousled, dazed look on Jaebum so much.
Jinyoung tugs him up by the tie and presses him against the glass. The city lights are vast, each light like a beacon that catches the side of Jaebum’s face. The shadows dance across his face, accenting the curve of his cheek and the length of his lashes in a way that’s devastatingly handsome, as Jinyoung pushes his hair back and kisses him.
His smirk flashes light and then dark as he shrugs off his jacket. Jinyoung lets him up for a second to take off his own shirt before pushing him up back against the glass, hard. They kiss until Jinyoung goes dizzy from lack of air, head spinning at the sight of the straight drop down outside the window. The world spins, but Jaebum’s arms are solid, strong as they pin Jinyoung against the glass and fuck him until he nearly cries from good it feels.
Afterwards, Jaebum tucks him into their completely unused bed and Jinyoung, eyes shut in bliss, only manages to feel the roughness of Jaebum’s thumb trailing past Jinyoung’s cheek as he pushes Jinyoung’s bangs out of his face.
It’s a gentle gesture followed by Jaebum’s small laugh and the feeling of the mattress rising- light, carefree and Jaebum-less.
Jinyoung sleeps so well that night he nearly misses his flight back home the next morning.
---
As soon as he lands back on Korean soil, Jinyoung's phone explodes. A good deal of the messages are harmless, standard notifications from random apps he regrets downloading. He turns it back on airplane mode when the air hostess glares at him, but not before his eye catches an email addressed from his manager.
He slides his phone into the fold of his coat and waits for the air hostess to pass before he pulls it back out and taps on the subject line. Predictably, the first half of the email is spent berating Jinyoung for nearly missing his morning flight and then the rest of email tempts him to get on the next plane back to America. Attached and copied below his manager's note is an email from GQ Korea and more frigteningly- they want to do a feature on him and Im Jaebum. Fucking hell.
Jinyoung twists his head out the window of the plane and blinks once, twice, just to make sure he's reading things correctly. He pulls his phone back to eye-level and frowns.
The thing is Jinyoung likes GQ. It's one of the few magazines that respects his own fashion choices, however estranged, and won't go out of their way to style him like a freshly fucked school boy at the age of 23. He just won't do GQ with Jaebum, not now. Even though it's been a month- an eternity for celebrity buzz- since the initial Dispatch article, the timing of the request still strikes him as odd.
He types back a brief: Tell them I'm not interested. Maybe next time. I'm too busy filming already.
It makes Jinyoung feel all grown up, a complete adult, that he's the one who takes the initiative to turn down GQ and not harass Jaebum into folding like he would have just a year ago.
It's not worth the hassle, much less the headache from his own department.
---
Jinyoung sees Jaebum’s spread for GQ two months later and flips idly through his pages.
The pictures are nothing special, nothing revolutionary. Im Jaebum wears board shorts and smiles like it's not 40 degrees outside. Im Jaebum looks entirely too fuckable in a simple white dress shirt and dark slacks. Im Jaebum can pull of wearing combat boots and a leather jacket without looking like a greaser from the 1950s.
His interview isn't much better.
It’s the same boring spiel. Im Jaebum wants to do it for music, want to be someone all of Korea can be a proud fan of, wants to marry a pretty girl with slim legs and long hair.
The ideal type questions get stale after a while. Jinyoung’s not even clutching his pearls this time around.
Jinyoung yawns, flipping the magazine shut with a dismissive wave. He landed back in Seoul two hours ago. It's too early to sleep, but his body is exhausted from traveling across time zones- dialing back 7 hours he didn't have to begin with.
Nevertheless, he picks up his phone and types without thinking, his traitorous fingers fueled by an age old itch.
---
Jaebum picks up on the first ring and less than half an hour later, they're tucked away in a small hotel, booked under a fake name. Jinyoung shrugs his shirt off and watches Jaebum do the same as they strip, hidden from all the cameras and all the eyes in the world save their own.
Jinyoung tugs him forward, fingers curled loose. Jaebum doesn’t need to confirmation, but it makes Jinyoung feel like he’s in control as he shoots a look over his shoulder.
Jaebum’s body crashes into his as they tumble on top of the mattress. Jinyoung manages to kick off both his shoes this time before Jaebum presses a harsh kiss against his neck.
“Missed me? I'm fighting 7 hours of jetlag for you so don't blame me if I pass out early,” Jinyoung goads, breath hitching as Jaebum’s lips travel further down. He licks his way past Jinyoung’s navel and pulls down his boxer, the elastic stretch tugging against Jinyoung’s skin like static.
“Not a chance I wouldn't,” Jaebum laughs back and Jinyoung attributes the feeling of his heart jolting up to the sensation of Jaebum’s teeth grazing the skin of his inner thighs.
“You sound rather-,” Jinyoung starts, sucking in a breath as Jaebum sucks him in. That bastard. Jinyoung digs his hand into Jaebum’s hair, pulling strands loose. They sit in the dense darkness, punctuated by Jinyoung’s harsh breathing and the sounds of Jaebum slurping around his cock.
Jinyoung rocks his hips forward, meeting no resistance at all. His cock hits the back of Jaebum’s throat, sliding in smooth and blunt. Jaebum’s eyes are dark as he hums, lips stretched a cherry red. Jinyoung tugs his hair, ready to fuck his face when Jaebum pulls back, grinning.
“I know you missed me though,” he taunts, lips swollen and taunting. Jinyoung takes the bait, pulls him up for a kiss.
“You’re such a narcissist,” Jinyoung whispers, hating the way his voice hitches when Jaebum bites into the skin of his shoulder.
They fuck for hours until Jinyoung's sure the bed frame bound to collapse. Jaebum's got the sexual appetite of a teenager and Jinyoung's never been big on doing most of the work anyways. Jaebum's more than content to pin him down onto the bed and fuck the coherency out of him. Sex like this is easy, mindless and so so good, when Jinyoung feels himself held open and fucked hard until he can't think of anything but Jaebum's cock.
He's lost count of how many times he's come, but if the sensitivity of his own cock is anything to go by, Jinyoung's surprised by his own stamina. The fatigue is wearing on him, so he tugs at Jaebum's hair, digs his nails into his back until he feels that familiar pressure building up low in his groin. He comes without warning, a soft harsh cry and the shaking of his body is enough, finally enough as Jaebum follows him with a low groan.
For the longest stretch of time, they're stuck to one another. The fade of post-coital bliss always comes with something uncomfortable, sticky and cloying against his skin like damp sweat. Between the sweat, the spit, and god knows what else, Jinyoung feels equal parts giddy and disgusting. They pull apart and Jinyoung shivers at the sensation of Jaebum's warm, flushed skin separating from his- a palpable sticky noise echoing into the new found silence of the room.
Jaebum doesn't stay away for long.
He kisses Jinyoung, on the cheek first, and then his forehead. Jinyoung lets out a soft whine and Jaebum tilts his chin up with a laugh. Jinyoung's fucked past the point of boneless so he lets Jaebum prop him up, lets Jaebum hold him steady as they kiss. He can't imagine how terrible he looks right now, but Jaebum's breath shakes, a kind of low burning inhale that smothers flames, as he leans in to kiss Jinyoung again.
Jinyoung pushes himself up to his elbows, lets the blankets pool past his waist and looks straight into Jaebum's eyes.
A long time ago, years maybe, Jaebum had once teased him for looking too vulnerable for his own good after sex. He's grown more immune over the years, but Jinyoung feels a tick of old power, something sickly sweet, knowing that a single look could have this kind of effect on Jaebum, still.
The kind of look that says- prove me wrong. Kiss me, hold me after we fuck and stay for a sappy movie. Stay and let me make you breakfast, but burn everything so we end up going out anyways wearing heavy shades and telling the paparazzi to fuck off.
He doesn’t really mean it though, and maybe that’s why Jaebum never stays.
---
Jaebum is still there in the morning, reading the paper and drinking shitty coffee when Jinyoung stumbles out of the bedroom on wobbly legs.
"Rough night?" he calls, grinning as Jinyoung flips him off.
"You bastard," Jinyoung groans, stopping himself short because he's not going to give Jaebum the satisfaction knowing that he's having trouble walking from getting fucked too hard. "I have a flight in less than 5 hours."
"Same," Jaebum gestures to his watch. "But in about 3 hours."
"You should leave soon," Jinyoung suggests, stumbling over to the counter to pour himself a cup of water. His hands shake, feeling weak. Jaebum notices him struggling and walks over to pour a glass of water.
"Thanks," Jinyoung says quietly. Too quietly.
There's no breakfast on the stove, but Jinyoung feels touched all the same as Jaebum procures a tablet of pain killers over to Jinyoung wordlessly. He feels appreciative, but that doesn't explain why he pushes Jaebum back and kisses him, hard. Jinyoung catches Jaebum’s lips in his teeth when he gasps, feels the groan work its way from the base of his throat into Jinyoung's mouth.
The water in the glass spills against them as Jaebum bumps it against his own chest.
He sways into Jaebum's touch, feeling faint as the wetness on Jaebum's collar slides against his own skin.
“Jinyoung,” Jaebum starts. His lips look dry.
"It’s just jetlag. I'm jetlagged,” Jinyoung explains. He runs a hand through his hair and shoots a smile back. "I guess its a good thing I'm flying back."
They won’t ever have anything more than this, and that’s okay because Jinyoung tells himself that the feeling of Jaebum’s skin, the brush of his fingertips against Jinyoung’s cheek, is enough.
They’re both too independent for that, worked too hard to pin it all down to some intangible notion of 'strong like' (because what they have across 3 continents bound together by a network of flights and rushed secrets is still not enough to be called love).
It could have been though, maybe, if they had been dumb and foolish at the same time- maybe if Dispatch had busted them from the very beginning. But no one did, least of all Jaebum and Jinyoung.
Jinyoung picks up the glass of water- half-empty, half-full, who knows anymore- and swallows the tablet down with a gulp.
Their time has passed.
“Call me when you land in Prague,” Jaebum says, carefully picks Jinyoung’s hand up, away from his wrist and curls it in his own for a brief, too short second.
“Sure,” Jinyoung answers. He waits for Jaebum to pull his hand back first, but for some reason neither of them move and that short second becomes something longer, uncharted.
He’s not sure he’s ready to navigate that far, bump against something that might sink them both for good this time. Jaebum knows better too. Yet for some reason, Jaebum looks taken aback when Jinyoung slides his fingers free.
“Don’t miss your flight,” he smiles. Jaebum nods, sliding his sunglasses back on his face and then himself out the door. He moves so quickly with practice ease that Jinyoung could convince himself that Jaebum had maybe never even been here to begin with.
He's got a few more hours to burn. So Jinyoung moves to unpack one of his scripts from the luggage he brought with him. It's for a new film, something not a period piece for once- dear god anything but another period piece- only to find it missing. He whirls around, startled to see the manuscript sitting harmlessly on the coffee table.
Slowly Jinyoung settles down on the couch, feeling the phantom warmth of Jaebum's body against the seat, and reaches for the manuscript. He flips to the last few pages just to check if his character has gotten cancer or died from some other rare incurable malady.
He runs his finger across the pages, unbending the crease where Jaebum had placed his coffee cup on earlier and returns to the cover to start all over again.