NOVEL NEXT chapter 41
When they finally finished the grocery run and made it home, it was well past six o’clock. Seo-eul climbed out of the passenger seat, muttering that he had no idea where the day had gone, and hurried to open the trunk. Since he had failed to win the battle over the steering wheel, he intended to carry more bags to compensate—only to fall silent at the sight before him.
The spacious trunk was completely filled with boxes.
The kitchen had cookware but not even basic seasonings.
If they were only going to order delivery, fine—but because they had to cook, they inevitably had to buy all sorts of things.
Which was why the cart had gotten pretty heavy… but the real problem was that somewhere along the way, Ye Ju-yeol’s and Yoon Hyuk’s single cart had mysteriously multiplied into two.
Seo-eul genuinely lost his words. They said they’d only picked up snacks and sweets, yet the mountain of bags stacked high was absurd. His stunned silence made the other two awkwardly scratch the backs of their heads. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested doubling the budget just because it seemed generous—thankfully he had, or this could have ended badly.
One look at the receipt, with its ridiculous total, confirmed it completely. The only question now was how long these groceries would last. He had a bad feeling they’d be heading out for another shopping trip sooner than later.
“Here we go.”
Seo-eul lifted the biggest box and headed toward the front gate. It was the one packed with drinks, and it was heavy. The two who had climbed out of the back seat said something behind him, but he barely listened. His energy had drained away; all he wanted now was to rest.
He was halfway through the slightly open gate when it happened.
He sensed someone beside him and then suddenly, his name.
“Lee Seo-eul.”
“What—ugh…!”
Before he could answer, another weight dropped abruptly on top of the box he was carrying. Sa-heon had strode over without him noticing and plopped his own box right on top. He’d been walking on autopilot, so the sudden shift made him stagger. As he barely regained his balance, Sa-heon bent down, almost expectantly, and snatched both boxes straight out of his hands.
He stared at his now-empty hands, dumbfounded. Sa-heon bounced ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) the boxes lightly, unfazed by the weight.
“Go open the door.”
Couldn’t he have just set the box down for a moment and opened the door lock himself? The objection was written plainly across his face, but Seo-eul swallowed it. This guy always insisted on carrying everything. No matter what he said, Sa-heon wouldn’t give it back. Best to accept defeat quickly.
So much for hurrying. All for nothing.
Once Sa-heon came in, followed by Ye Ju-yeol and Yoon Hyuk with the rest of the bags, the outing officially ended. He wanted to collapse on the sofa, but couldn’t—there was still work to do.
He opened the fridge and began sorting and storing everything. Sa-heon stepped up beside him and opened the cabinet like it was second nature. He stacked ramen packets and snack bags, then lined up the seasoning jars near the induction stove—exactly the way things were arranged at Seo-eul’s home. For someone who pretended not to care, he could be weirdly meticulous.
“You rest now. I’ll handle it.”
Seo-eul stared at him, but Sa-heon didn’t even glance back. His voice was matter-of-fact, fully aware that Seo-eul was already exhausted. He was clearly cutting in before Seo-eul could do anything, and as he shook his head, the other two suddenly rushed into the kitchen with the same intention.
“Yeah, hyung. We’ll take care of the rest. We can’t cook anyway, so doing something makes us feel better.”
“No, it’s fine—”
“Totally, totally. We’re the ultimate household-task masters as long as it’s not cooking! Seven years of living alone! Well, we’re no match for you, sunbaenim, but you know… we’re good at everything except what we’re not good at~”
Good at everything except what they’re not good at… wasn’t that true for everyone? They said it so confidently that it almost sounded like logic. As he wondered at that, he found himself being ushered out of the kitchen. They said they were the same age as Yoon Hyuk, so twenty-three—seven years meant they’d moved out in high school?
Estimating the years in his head, he glanced back at the kitchen. But going back would only get him chased out again, so he walked to the sofa.
Judging by how determined they all were to make him rest, his fatigue must have been painfully obvious.
He sank into the sofa, pressed his hands to his face, and rubbed at his eyes. Even at home the cameras were still rolling, and he couldn’t relax. Maybe it was because he was used to a clear on/off divide at set and at home… The mental strain was far worse than the physical.
They said it was only like this for the first few days. Was that true?
Left alone, he naturally began recalling things he’d once heard from fellow actors.
Variety shows are fun. But shooting once a week is completely different from observational shows you live in.
Look at me. When my episode aired, I nearly died of shock. I even called the people I filmed with to ask if I really acted like that. That’s the thing—no matter how careful you try to be, if the cameras are hidden well enough, by day three your brain just shuts off. Parts of you you didn’t know existed will come crawling out.
They’d said they filmed a ten-day trip to Switzerland with friends. They’d always thought they were easygoing, but on-screen they had been unbelievably fussy. Back then, when Seo-eul didn’t care about variety shows at all, he’d just laughed it off—but now that it was happening to him, the anxiety crept in.
Ding!
With a strong buzz, a notification lit up his phone. He hurriedly grabbed it. The sender was the production team.
HELP
-Ask anything!-
[Seo-eul!]
[Before dinner, we’ll have a quick personal interview.]
[Interviews will take place in the annex to the right of the entrance.]
[Please come now!]
Ah, right. This.
They’d told him at the pre-meeting, but it still felt sudden. Maybe it was because he was still adjusting. The tension he’d been pushing aside finally flooded back. Remembering PD Ahn’s warning that personal interviews could happen anytime—with minimal staff involvement—Seo-eul got up.
Can he just go like this? Hesitating, he scampered to the kitchen and poked his head in. Before they worried about him suddenly disappearing, he announced with a determined look, “I’ll be back, doing the interview…,” though he said nothing. His expression alone looked like someone accepting a duel challenge. They stifled their laughter and waved him off. Ye Ju-yeol even raised both fists in a cheer, making Seo-eul flush and hurry toward the front door.
He put on his shoes and walked straight to the right. Just as the message said, a separate building sat there.
He greeted the scattered production staff along the way. When he opened the door, he found a neatly arranged room and the main writer, Kang Su-gyeong, smiling as she approached.
“Oh gosh, sorry for calling you when you should be resting, Seo-eul.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t have anything to do anyway.”
“Shall we start right away? It’s a really simple interview, so there’s nothing to be nervous about. Just be as comfortable as possible, okay? Comfortable~”
Seo-eul smiled and nodded, then sat on the chair in the center. Several cameras were already aimed at him. The dark lenses felt unsettling, and he slowly blinked his eyes before fixing them on Su-gyeong instead. Fortunately, no one seemed to think anything of it.
The questions that followed were predictable.
His impressions of moving in, his first thoughts about his partner, even the ridiculous question of where he learned shell-game skills—he answered everything steadily, without fluster. His replies were so clean and precise that the staff even joked about whether someone had leaked the questionnaire in advance.
But that steady expression finally wavered when the subject shifted to Sa-heon.
[Q. Your morning together was very memorable. Do you normally sleep in the same room?]
“No, of course not… Today was a special situation, and we always use separate rooms. He’s just very weak to heat. He’ll die in summer without air conditioning.”
[Q. Do the two of you normally take good care of each other?]
“I guess so. I think that’s why we’ve been able to live together for so long. If we were both the type to procrastinate, we would have split ages ago. But aside from that… he’s naturally a kind person.”
[Q. Who is?]
“Oh—Sa-heon.”
[Q. …Are you normally very generous with your best friend?]