* * *

“Not going to eat? This is really good, you know.”

Jungin, now comfortably seated, dunked a rice cake into the sauce and offered one to Beomhyeon, who frowned, remembering how the old Jungin had never touched street food.

Once he noticed something off, everything Jungin did—every small gesture, every expression—seemed different.

“…Hyeon!”

“….”

“Ki Beomhyeon!”

Beomhyeon snapped back to reality at the sound of Jungin calling his name, his arm tugged insistently.

He turned to see Jungin squinting at him, his lips stained with tteokbokki sauce.

“Is something wrong? You’re not sick, are you?”

Jungin, holding a skewer in one hand, continued with a concerned expression.

As if lost in thought, his brow furrowed deeper, and his lips pressed into a tight line.

Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes.

“Because of me, you can’t even rest on your day off. Last night too… And now I’m forcing you to eat something you don’t even like. I’m sorry. I’ve been so selfish.”

With his head hung low, Jungin apologized in a small, defeated voice, yet his worried gaze swept over Beomhyeon, as if trying to spot any signs of illness.

Watching him, Beomhyeon closed his eyes briefly before opening them again.

Then, he grabbed Jungin’s hand and popped a piece of tteokbokki into his own mouth.

“Ki Beomhyeon…?”

“I like it.”

“…What?”

“I like everything you give me.”

Yes.

Even if his habits had changed, even if his personality was different—no, even if he wasn’t the same person he used to know and love—this Jungin was still his Jungin.

As he gazed at Jungin’s cheeks, flushed from the spicy sauce, Beomhyeon propped his chin on one hand and wiped the sauce from Jungin’s lips with his thumb before licking it off.

“Hey!”

“It’s good.”

The sweet and spicy sauce was indeed delicious.

Smirking, Beomhyeon chuckled, a sound that seemed to stretch and warm the air around them.

Watching Jungin hurriedly stuff food into his mouth, his face buried low, Beomhyeon slid a cup of water toward him.

---

After filling their stomachs and returning home, Jungin washed off the dust and exhaustion with a shower before collapsing onto his bed.

“Ah, home is the best…”

With his stomach full and his body clean, drowsiness began to overtake him.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake it off, and dragged himself to his desk, gripping a pen with determination.

“Okay, time to start, Lee Jungin. The college entrance exam is just around the corner!”

By Monday, he planned to return to school. He had missed too many classes and needed to catch up.

Just as he logged into the portal for online lectures, a notification popped up.

An email.

Jungin opened his inbox and froze at the sight of the sender’s familiar username.

“…Lee Jungin?”

2Jung_human.

It was the ID he had made for Lee Jungin.

The same person who had changed their phone number and severed all contact was now reaching out.

[Choi Jungin.]

Quickly scrolling through the email, he stumbled upon a line asking to meet and let out a bitter laugh.

“Cut me off completely, only to reach out now?”

He had genuinely thought they were friends—real friends who could rely on each other, share their deepest feelings.

But after being betrayed, after Jungin had stolen his body and disappeared, Beomhyeon had felt nothing but anger, hurt, and sadness.

And now he wants to meet?

Swallowing his frustration, Jungin clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

He could guess why Choi Jungin had suddenly resurfaced.

He probably wanted to reverse the body swap.

After all, why wouldn’t he?

Choi Jungin had everything—a wealthy family, doting siblings, a handsome, kind fiancé.

It was too much to trade away for a fleeting indulgence.

Jungin stared at the ring on his fourth finger, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Go back… I’m not Lee Jungin. That’s right… That’s what I should do.”

But tears slipped onto his open workbook.

He bit his lip to stifle the sobs, but they wouldn’t stop.

The more he fell for Beomhyeon, the more afraid he became.

He feared Beomhyeon would hate him for the lies, that he would leave and never look back.

It would all be over the moment the real Lee Jungin returned.

That was why he hadn’t wanted to fall for him.

Covering his mouth to muffle his cries, Jungin stared at the screen displaying the scheduled meeting with Choi Jungin and closed his eyes.

---

“Jungin, why are your eyes so swollen?”

“Huh? Oh, I must’ve slept too much yesterday. I even skipped dinner… Haha.”

Unable to reveal his bloodshot, tear-stained eyes from the night before, Jungin feigned having fallen asleep early, staying awake all night instead.

As he focused on his breakfast, he avoided the piercing gaze of Beomhyeon.

Later, when Jungin climbed into Beomhyeon’s car, as he always did, he furrowed his brows at Beomhyeon’s insistence on dropping him off in front of the building, likely because of the prior day’s detour.

“Oh, it’s just the building right behind. It’s hard to explain in words.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Why? Besides, you can’t get in—it’s in an alley.”

“I can park and walk with you.”

Beomhyeon began searching for a nearby parking lot using the car’s navigation.

But Jungin, already unbuckling his seatbelt, interrupted him.

“It’s faster if I walk. And there are only five minutes left—I’m already late!”

Jungin glanced nervously at his watch.

The rain today had caused more traffic than usual, leaving him with less than five minutes to spare before his appointment.

Grabbing his umbrella, he glanced at Beomhyeon’s dissatisfied expression and smiled softly.

“Don’t worry—I won’t get lost. You’re picking me up later, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course, Ki Beomhyeon is the best! Let’s grab something delicious later—it’s on me.”

To lift Beomhyeon’s mood, Jungin deliberately spoke with extra cheer and playfulness.

When the traffic light turned green, he hurriedly grabbed his bag.

“Alright then, I’ll be back. See you later!”

With a snap, Jungin’s yellow umbrella opened as he stepped out of the car.

Waving at Beomhyeon, he walked off into the rain.

Beomhyeon kept his gaze fixed on Jungin’s retreating figure until it disappeared entirely.

Drip. Drip.

The rain seemed heavier today.

Jungin’s thin outerwear nagged at Beomhyeon’s mind.

He regretted not insisting on something warmer.

With a sigh of regret, his eyes fell on a phone with a pizza-shaped grip attached—it was Jungin’s.

In his haste, Jungin must’ve forgotten his phone.

Beomhyeon turned toward the direction Jungin had gone, but it was already too late.

“Sigh.”

Running a hand through his hair, Beomhyeon grabbed his own phone.

Just as he prepared to call Mr. Yoon, he remembered something: today was the day of Yoon’s younger sister’s wedding.

“Unbelievable.”

Resolving to handle it himself, Beomhyeon stepped out of the car, unfolding a black umbrella against the falling rain.

He headed toward the direction Jungin had gone, retracing his steps from the alley Jungin had mentioned yesterday.

As he walked, Jungin’s phone buzzed faintly in his hand.

Did Jungin just realize he forgot it?

The thought of Jungin fumbling nervously made Beomhyeon chuckle involuntarily.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the phone’s screen.

However, his steps faltered, and his hand tightened around the umbrella as he read the messages displayed on the screen.

[If you’ve survived this long, you should’ve stayed silent. Did you feel better coaxing my son into moving out? You really are just like your vulgar mother—good at seducing men, aren’t you?]

[Come to the studio in Pyeonggwan-dong now. Don’t tell Director Lee or anyone else. You wouldn’t want the people you care about to lose something precious again because of you, would you?]

How long had Jungin endured these kinds of words?

Beomhyeon’s expression turned icy as he scrolled through the string of vile messages.

He inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly, and made a decision.

Taking out his phone, he dialed.

The call connected after a few rings, and the background noise of hurried footsteps and bustling chatter came through the receiver.

“Mr. Yoon, I’m sorry to call on such an important day.”

Today was Mr. Yoon’s only sister’s wedding day, and Beomhyeon had hoped not to disturb him.

As he bit his lip and apologized again, Mr. Yoon responded kindly.

“It’s no problem at all. Thanks to you, my sister’s thrilled with everything. What’s the matter?”

“I’ve lost track of Jungin’s whereabouts and had no choice but to call you.”

After explaining the situation, Beomhyeon asked about the studio’s location in Pyeonggwan-dong.

Mr. Yoon confirmed it hadn’t changed since Beomhyeon had last visited.

“Understood. Just send me Jungin’s location once you find out. Thank you, and I’m sorry again.”

Ending the call, Beomhyeon adjusted his umbrella and changed direction.

He had three and a half hours until Jungin’s part-time shift ended—enough time to confront the sender of the messages.

* * *