LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 9: Rooftop Reunions and Hidden Agendas
Chapter 9: Rooftop Reunions and Hidden Agendas
Jae-min was sprawled out across his bed, fast asleep in nothing but a pair of boxers, one arm lazily draped over his face as the soft morning light filtered through the curtains. The blankets were tangled beneath him, evidence of a restless night. The quiet of the apartment was soon interrupted by the familiar sound of the front door unlocking.
Only one person had the audacity to walk in without knocking—Jin-ah.
She moved through the apartment with the same quiet confidence she always had, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Jin-ah had known Jae-min long enough to predict that he’d still be asleep, despite his supposed "commitment" to getting up earlier now that he was working on a production.
Sure enough, she found him exactly where she expected: half-dead to the world, blissfully unaware of the new day. With a soft sigh, she shook her head.
“You’re going to miss your n
ext call time if you keep this up,” Jin-ah said, her voice cutting through the morning silence.
Jae-min groaned, shifting slightly but not bothering to open his eyes. “Five more minutes, Noona...” he mumbled, barely conscious as he pulled the pillow over his face.
Jin-ah rolled her eyes, amused but unsurprised. She marched over to the side of his bed and, with one quick motion, yanked the pillow away.
“Get up,” she demanded, her tone firm but teasing. “You think you’re going to skate through this job half-asleep?”
Jae-min let out an exaggerated groan, finally cracking his eyes open. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and his half-asleep state made him look like he’d spent the night wrestling with his own bed. “You’re ruthless, you know that?” he muttered, slowly sitting up, rubbing his eyes.
“Maybe. But someone has to keep you from sleeping through your career.” Jin-ah crossed her arms, eyeing him up and down. “You’ve got ten minutes to shower and get dressed, or I’ll drag you out of here myself.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m moving,” Jae-min grumbled, still bleary-eyed as he swung his legs off the bed.
Jin-ah turned toward the kitchen, intent on making herself a quick cup of coffee while Jae-min dragged himself into the shower. She’d give him a few minutes before barking at him again. As she passed by the counter, something caught her eye—something she wasn’t expecting to see.
A letter.
Folded neatly, sitting right where Jae-min had obviously tossed it last night. The pale pink paper stood out, delicate and intentional, clearly not something that had been lying around for long.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Jin-ah picked it up. The paper was soft between her fingers, and as she unfolded it, her brow furrowed. The handwriting was flowery and careful, but the message was unsettlingly personal.
“I saw you today. You looked amazing. Can’t wait for us to be together again. Just like old times.”
Jin-ah's lips pressed into a thin line. There was no name signed, no clues to who it could be from, but the tone of the letter was unmistakably… off. She turned the paper over, as if expecting to find more, but it was just that—short, cryptic, and undeniably creepy.
She heard the water shut off in the bathroom, and Jae-min stepped out moments later, towel around his neck as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his damp hair. His easygoing demeanor didn’t seem to match the kind of person who’d receive a letter like this.
Jin-ah held up the letter without a word, her eyebrows raised.
“What’s this?” she asked, keeping her tone neutral but curious.
Jae-min glanced over, immediately recognizing the note. He sighed, his expression shifting to mild annoyance rather than surprise. “Ah... that. Yeah.”
Jin-ah crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation as she waved the letter at him. “So, are you going to explain, or...?”
Jae-min let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s from So-ra. You remember her, right? Dated her back in high school.”
The name rang a distant bell in Jin-ah’s mind, but nothing significant stood out. Just one of the many girlfriends Jae-min had during that time. “Vaguely. But why is she leaving creepy notes at your door?”
“Honestly? No idea,” Jae-min admitted, sounding exasperated. “She’s been texting me for weeks. I blocked her, but she keeps finding ways to reach out. This is the first time she’s left something like... this.” He gestured to the letter in Jin-ah’s hand.
Jin-ah stared at the note again, her expression hardening. “This is weird, Jae-min. She’s clearly escalating.”
Jae-min shrugged, still playing it off with a mix of exhaustion and casual indifference. “Yeah, it’s annoying, but she’s not doing anything dangerous. Just… clingy.”
Jin-ah wasn’t convinced. She tossed the letter back onto the counter with a frustrated huff. “Clingy is one thing. Showing up at your apartment and leaving notes? That’s more than just clingy.”
Jae-min walked over, grabbing a shirt from a nearby chair. “Look, it’s So-ra. She’s always been... intense. But it’s not a big deal.”
Jin-ah gave him a sharp look, clearly not buying his casual attitude about the whole thing. “Jae-min, she’s escalating. It might not be a big deal now, but if you ignore it, it’s only going to get worse. You know that, right?”
Jae-min shrugged again, though the slight crease in his brow betrayed his calm façade. “I’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t worry about it.”
Jin-ah shook her head, frustrated. “Just don’t let this slide. You need to handle it before it becomes a real problem.”
He flashed her a lopsided grin, the same one that usually got him out of trouble. “I will, Noona. I promise.”
Jin-ah shot him a look that said she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she dropped the subject for now. “Alright, but I’m not cleaning up your mess if this blows up in your face.”
Jae-min chuckled, pulling on his shirt. “You always do, anyway.”
“Don’t push your luck,” Jin-ah warned, but her tone had softened again, and the tension in the room began to ease. “Now hurry up. We’ve got a full day ahead.”
The dim lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the empty alleyway. Tae-seok stood near the mouth of the alley, his silhouette sharp against the dull neon lights from the street beyond. His hand rested casually in his jacket pocket, his eyes scanning the figure in front of him—his informant. The tension between them was thick, an unspoken warning hanging in the air.
"You're making a mistake," the informant muttered, shifting uneasily. "This is bigger than both of us, Tae-seok. You don’t want to be involved."
Tae-seok’s lips curved into a slow, measured smile, but his eyes remained cold, calculating. He took a step closer, his voice low but dripping with confidence. "I’ll decide what's too big for me. You just need to keep your end of the deal."
The informant hesitated, his gaze flickering between Tae-seok’s steady demeanor and the shadows creeping at the edge of the alley. “You think you can take them down? You're fooling yourself. They’ll bury you before you even scratch the surface.”
Tae-seok leaned in, his expression never wavering, his voice a near-whisper. “That’s the difference between us. I’m not the one who’s scared.”
The tension spiked, every word carrying a threat. Tae-seok stood his ground, daring the man to make a move. For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was heavy, charged with the danger that always lurked beneath Tae-seok’s calm exterior.
“Cut!”
The director’s voice sliced through the tension, and the set around them came back to life in an instant. Jae-min blinked, shaking off the last bit of Tae-seok’s sharp intensity. He watched as the informant—played by one of the veteran actors—relaxed, cracking a smile and rubbing his neck, the tension of the scene dissolving as quickly as it had built.
The crew moved in, adjusting the lighting and camera angles, the illusion of the dark alleyway peeling away as the actors stepped out of their roles. The chatter of the production team filled the air, and Jae-min took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline start to settle.
"That was tight," the informant actor said, clapping Jae-min on the shoulder. "You're slipping into Tae-seok’s skin pretty well, huh?"
Jae-min grinned, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. "Trying to keep up with you, sunbae," he said, using the respectful term for the more experienced actor. "You make it easy."
The older man chuckled, shaking his head. "Don’t get too comfortable. These scenes only get harder from here."
Jae-min nodded, appreciating the challenge. The weight of the day’s work hadn’t fully hit him yet, but it was starting to sink in. This wasn’t just about getting the lines right—it was about living the character, and he could feel himself getting there.
As the director approached, giving some quick feedback and notes to the actors, Jae-min listened intently, eager to learn. His performance had been solid, but there was always more to refine, more depth to explore with Tae-seok.
"Nice work, Jae-min," the director said, his tone approving. "You nailed the intensity, but don’t be afraid to play with the pauses a bit more. Tae-seok controls the room—sometimes that means letting the silence do the talking."
Jae-min nodded, absorbing the feedback. It was a subtle note, but one he could work on. "Got it. I’ll keep that in mind for the next run."
The director gave him a brief smile before turning to check on the next setup, and Jae-min stepped back, taking a moment to sip from his water bottle. The rush from the scene still buzzed in his veins, but it was a good kind of buzz—the kind that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t expected.
As the crew began resetting the scene for the next take, Jae-min took a moment to glance around the set, watching the quiet efficiency of the production team. It was still surreal to be here, to be part of something this big. He was starting to feel more like Tae-seok every day, but there was always that slight edge of doubt, that question of whether he could really keep it up.
As the day’s shoot wrapped up, Jae-min exchanged quick goodbyes with the crew, still buzzing from the energy of the day’s work. The set was winding down, and the lights dimmed as the crew packed up for the evening.
With a final wave to the director, Jae-min slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the exit. The cool evening air greeted him as he stepped outside, a welcome change from the heat of the set lights. He let out a long breath, feeling the tension in his muscles start to loosen.
It had been a long day, but he wasn’t done just yet.
A group chat notification popped up on his phone—Dae-sung, Soo-bin, and the rest of the usual crew were planning a hangout. Jae-min smiled, already looking forward to seeing his friends and letting loose after a full day of filming.
The rooftop bar had the perfect backdrop for the evening—soft city lights twinkling below and a light breeze carrying the sounds of laughter from nearby tables. Jae-min sat comfortably with his closest friends, a drink in hand, while Dae-sung flicked through the menu with his usual indecisiveness.
“Are we eating or are you just gonna scroll through that thing like it’s Instagram?” Mi-rae teased, giving Dae-sung a nudge.
“I’m a man of many options, Mi-rae. Gotta weigh the pros and cons,” Dae-sung shot back, his eyes still on the menu.
Mi-rae rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. “We both know you’ll end up ordering the same thing you always do. You’re predictable.”
Jae-min chuckled, jumping in. “She’s got a point, man. I don’t think you’ve ordered anything other than pork belly since we were sixteen.”
Dae-sung tossed the menu aside with a dramatic sigh. “And you know what? Some things are worth sticking to.”
“You’re as stubborn as you are predictable,” Mi-rae quipped, before turning her attention toward Jae-min with a smirk. “And speaking of predictable, why’s Jae-min always dodging us these days? Got yourself a secret life or something?”
Jae-min leaned back in his seat, smirking. “Yeah, I’m secretly a superhero by night. I thought you’d catch on sooner.”
Mi-rae snorted, giving him a playful shove. “You? Superhero? The only thing you’re saving is that messy hair of yours.”
Jae-min shot her a mock glare, reaching for his drink. “You’re one to talk, brat.”
“Brat?” Mi-rae shot back, narrowing her eyes. “I’m older than you, remember?”
“Yeah, blame your genetics for making you look like a brat then, not me.” Jae-min grinned, dodging the cap Mi-rae flicked at him from across the table.
“Watch it, or I’ll start calling you Oppa,” Mi-rae said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Alright, alright, no need for drastic measures,” Jae-min replied, raising his hands in surrender, making the group laugh.
Soo-bin, who had been quietly listening, leaned in slightly, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Careful, Jae-min. Don’t let Mi-rae bully you too much. You’ll start bruising that delicate ego of yours.”
Jae-min shot her a sideways glance, unable to help the playful smirk that crossed his face. “Don’t worry about me, I’m built tough.”
Soo-bin’s eyes twinkled with a hint of something more. “Tough, huh? We’ll see about that next time we have our game night.”
Mi-rae gave Soo-bin a curious look, not quite catching the undertone. “Game night? What, are you two gaming buddies now?”
“Something like that,” Soo-bin said smoothly, casually brushing it off with a playful shrug, though her eyes lingered on Jae-min just a moment too long.
Dae-sung groaned, shaking his head. “You two are probably up all night. Meanwhile, I can’t get past level three of anything.”
Ji-hoon, who had been quietly observing the group’s banter, finally chimed in. “Maybe that’s because you treat every game like it’s a button-mash competition.”
“Hey, don’t underestimate the power of button-mashing,” Dae-sung replied defensively, which earned him a round of laughter from the table.
As the laughter from the gaming talk settled, Dae-sung leaned back and smirked. “You guys remember that time Jae-min tried to impress the whole class during gym by showing off his ‘soccer skills’ and ended up kicking the ball straight into the coach’s face?”
The table erupted into laughter, Mi-rae nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh my god, yes! And the coach was furious! I thought he was going to make you run laps until you passed out.”
Ji-hoon, ever the composed one, adjusted his glasses with a smirk. “If I recall, you were banned from playing for the rest of the semester. Something about ‘reckless behavior’?”
Jae-min grinned, leaning back. “What can I say? I didn’t realize my leg had that much power.”
“You nearly took the coach out!” Soo-bin chimed in, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “You’ve always been a little too confident for your own good.”
Jae-min shrugged. “Hey, someone had to spice up those boring gym classes.”
Mi-rae sipped her drink, a smirk creeping across her face. “Hey, remember when Jae-min was with So-ra? That girl had him wrapped around her finger.”
Jae-min groaned, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Wrapped around her finger? More like dragged around by the leash.”
Soo-bin laughed, leaning back in her seat. “She was always so... extra. Like, sweet to everyone’s face but...” She trailed off, raising her eyebrows knowingly.
Mi-rae nodded, joining in. “Oh yeah, super lovey-dovey in public. But I remember one time she pulled me aside and warned me to stay away from him. Like I wasn’t allowed to even be near you, Jae-min.”
Dae-sung snickered. “Yikes. She really was intense.”
Soo-bin grinned slyly, “Obsessed is an understatement. I don’t know how you survived that one, Jae-min. Dodged a bullet there.”
Dae-sung chimed in with a teasing grin, “Well, with the number of girlfriends you shuffled through back then, you were bound to end up with at least one crazy one. Karma, man.”
Jae-min shot him a look but laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”
Ji-hoon smirked. “Nope. Just think of it as a reminder to slow down once in a while.”
The group chuckled, the mood still lighthearted, their teasing bouncing off Jae-min like it always did. He chuckled, though his mind wandered briefly to So-ra still being a presence in his life—her texts, her calls, and that note on his door just last night. But he decided not to bring it up. This was a fun night, and he wasn’t about to let her ruin it.
As the evening wore on, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, with more drinks and laughter passing between them. Eventually, the night started to wind down, and the group began to settle their tabs.
Soo-bin leaned toward Jae-min when the others were caught in a side conversation, her voice low but teasing. “By the way, about that game night. You still owe me for rejecting my invite last time.”
Jae-min raised an eyebrow, catching her drift. “Didn’t realize I was keeping tabs on that.”
“Well, you are now,” Soo-bin said with a cheeky grin, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm. “Unless you’re too busy for me again.”
Jae-min smirked, shaking his head. “You know what? Maybe I’ll drop you off tonight and we’ll see about that rematch.”
Soo-bin’s eyes sparkled. “Deal.”
As they all made their way out of the bar, Jae-min casually offered, “I’ll drop Soo-bin off on the way.”
The others didn’t think much of it, waving them off with tired smiles and half-hearted jokes. Jae-min and Soo-bin exchanged a brief glance, their silent understanding clear. As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Jae-min led the way to his sleek black motorcycle parked along the curb.
Soo-bin’s eyes flicked over the bike, impressed despite herself. “You and your bike,” she teased, but there was a hint of excitement in her voice.
Jae-min smirked, handing her a helmet. “What, you don’t trust me?”
She rolled her eyes but took the helmet, slipping it on as she swung a leg over the back of the bike. Her arms wrapped around Jae-min’s waist, holding on a little tighter than she needed to as the engine roared to life beneath them.
With a smirk hidden by his helmet, Jae-min revved the engine and they sped off into the night, the thrill of the ride setting the stage for what they both knew was coming—a night that would be anything but ordinary.