Chapter 73: Being Forgotten by Someone
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 73: Being Forgotten by Someone
Late at night, Mrs. Na woke up thirsty. Bleary-eyed, she shuffled out of her room. She stopped by the bathroom to relieve herself, letting out a long yawn. After flushing the toilet and pulling up her pants with her eyes still half-closed, she stepped out, only to turn her head as a strange feeling prickled at her senses.
Light was leaking from under Yeon-ju’s door. She forced her eyes open and glanced at the digital clock.
Two in the morning. What on earth was she doing up at this hour?
“Yeon-ju. Yeon-ju.”
Standing in front of the door, she knocked softly and called her daughter’s name a couple of times. Fearing she might wake Han-byeol, who was sleeping in another room, she waited a moment. After a rustling sound from inside, Yeon-ju opened the door.
“Mom? You’re awake?”
“I had to use the bathroom. Why aren’t you asleep?”
Mrs. Na craned her neck to peer inside, but Yeon-ju blocked the way, refusing to let her see. Mrs. Na took a few deep breaths, her eyes narrowing.
“Are you drinking?”
“What? No, I mean, well…”
Yeon-ju mumbled, scratching her head. Mrs. Na pushed past her and stepped into the room.
“Ugh, the smell of alcohol.”
The sharp scent hit her nose the moment she entered. Mrs. Na fanned the air with her hand and glared at Yeon-ju. Anticipating her mother’s nagging, Yeon-ju feigned innocence, looking everywhere but at her.
“You certainly tried to destroy the evidence. Where did you hide the cans?”
“I didn’t hide them. I just finished and was about to clean up.”
“Look at you, turning into a drunk. What are you doing crouching in the corner of your room drinking at this hour? You’ll ruin your stomach.”
And without any snacks, too, Mrs. Na thought, looking down at the floor with a deeply dissatisfied expression. Yeon-ju gently nudged her mother’s arm.
“I’m going to sleep now. Stop nagging and go back to bed.”
“If you wanted to drink, you should’ve turned on the lights and done it in the living room.”
“Han-byeol is sleeping. And so were you. Why would I turn on the bright lights in the living room all by myself?”
“Were you craving a drink that badly?”
“No, just… we had an early Parenting Clock-Out today. Han-byeol went to bed early, so I had some free time. I only meant to have one can before sleeping…”
Yeon-ju offered an embarrassed smile. Mrs. Na stared quietly at her daughter.
She wondered if something difficult had happened. Yeon-ju had quit her job, would space out in the middle of meals, and was now drinking alone in the dead of night.
“Did something happen?”
“Nooo. I told you, I was just celebrating an early Parenting Clock-Out.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense. You’re talking absolute rubbish.”
Having been scolded, Yeon-ju pushed her mother again. Mrs. Na reluctantly let herself be nudged toward the door.
“Hurry up and go to sleep. Okay? Go on.”
“I can only sleep when you’re sleeping. Let me have my parenting clock-out, too.”
Yeon-ju froze. Her hands, which had been pushing her mother’s back, slowly slid down.
Mrs. Na turned around to look at her daughter’s face. Seeing how gaunt she looked weighed heavily on her heart.
“Are you the only one parenting? I’m parenting, too. You get your Parenting Clock-Out, but when do I get mine?”
“I’m sleeping. I’m going to sleep right now. Seriously.”
“Does drinking a few cans of beer change your life? It only ruins your stomach. If life could be changed by drinking, your mother would have downed a truckload of it by now.”
Imagining her daughter drinking in dead silence, holding her breath so as not to make a sound, sent a hot pang through Mrs. Na’s chest. Instead of sighing, she took a long breath and grabbed the doorknob.
“Of all the things to inherit, you had to inherit your mother’s fate. Do you have any idea how hard it is to live without a husband? Why did you have to take after me in that?”
“……”
“Why on earth did you have to take after that, of all things?”
Having lost her husband when Yeon-ju was only two years old, Mrs. Na knew all too well how overwhelming it was to raise a child alone.
She should have stopped at a moderate amount of nagging and turned away. But in that moment, her heart broke, and unable to suppress the sudden surge of emotion, the bitter words had slipped out. Mrs. Na sniffled and opened the door, while Yeon-ju hung her head.
Just as she was about to step out, Mrs. Na looked back.
“Yeon-ju.”
She called her daughter’s name, hesitating for a long moment.
She stared at her daughter’s face, which was tense with apprehension over what might come next.
“If you take after your mother, you’re bound to have good fortune with your children. So don’t worry, and go to sleep.”
“Ah… Oh… Mom…”
Mrs. Na gently closed the door behind her. Yeon-ju stood there for a long time, frozen as if rooted to the spot.
Tomorrow, Han-byeol’s final shoot would begin. Though her reality was a tangled mess, she prayed that the filming would conclude without any trouble.
But her swelling anxiety and fear would not easily subside. Every time she lay down, she would bolt upright again, making the grueling dawn feel agonizingly long.
Unable to sleep, she even wondered if she should take some medication. Tonight, too, she sat leaning against the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest, thinking of him endlessly.
Since that day, Eun-seong seemed to have cut ties completely. He probably couldn't accept a child that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. It only made sense for him to protect the career and image he had worked so hard to build.
Yes. This is for the best. Going our separate ways. Isn't this exactly what I wanted?
“Sigh…”
But a groan escaped her lips despite herself. A tangle of complex emotions mingled with the sigh slipping through her teeth.
This too shall pass. This too shall pass. Yeon-ju squeezed her eyes shut. Clenching her dry fists, she suppressed the sorrow that pooled inside her, threatening to burst, and muttered the words over and over.
Hoping it would act as a cure for her parched insomnia.
This too shall pass.
This too shall pass.
“Don’t break down… please… hold on…”
Only she was in a tempest; the world remained unshaken. All she had to do was force the pieces of herself together and survive another day.
Tomorrow morning, she would put on the same face and silently face the world again.
Yes. This too shall pass. This too shall pass.
This, too, shall pass.
* * *
The next morning, Han-byeol arrived at the filming site for his final shoot. Today, instead of running to Eun-seong’s dressing room, he went straight to his acting coach to practice.
Normally, he would have wandered around looking for Eun-seong, but today, the boy was different. He hadn't brought any chocolates, nor did he look around for him.
“I don't think I can make it because I'm busy that day. I'm sorry.”
It hadn't been a voice full of apology. Nor had it been a look of regret. Eun-seong’s words, which sounded completely different from before—almost like a machine speaking—felt like a lie to Han-byeol.
Words without sincerity were lies.
Eun-seong’s promise to think of him as his son until filming ended only deepened the child’s sorrow. Because the end is near, because we won't see each other anymore—that's why the mister changed.
Since he didn't have to treat him like a son anymore, he didn't have to be nice to him. That was what Han-byeol believed.
He felt wronged and angry that he had genuinely liked the mister without knowing any of this. He was resentful that he had been fooled by fake kindness, wasting his time thinking about him several times a day. Since the mister was a good actor, he had only been pretending to be nice, and Han-byeol had foolishly believed him.
Once today’s shoot was over, he would just say a quick goodbye and go straight home. He wouldn't even smile.
“I’m going to delete his phone number, too,” Han-byeol muttered, fidgeting with his phone. The mister never called anyway, and Han-byeol couldn't call him either, so the useless number might as well be deleted.
Harboring a grudge cold enough to bring frost in midsummer, Han-byeol changed his clothes and finished his makeup. After waiting for a moment, the call for filming came, and he headed to the set.
Over there, he saw Eun-seong standing and talking to someone. Han-byeol turned his head in the opposite direction, pretending not to see him. He was radiating the cold, ruthless vengeance of a second-grader with his entire body.
While discussing various details before the shoot, Eun-seong turned his head and looked at Han-byeol. For a split second, their eyes seemed to meet, but Han-byeol quickly whipped his head away.
“Please check it later, Eun-seong.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Only after the staff member left did Eun-seong start walking toward him. At first, he thought he was imagining things, but as he drew closer, he realized Han-byeol was deliberately avoiding his gaze.
A chuckle escaped him. Right. He’s furious.
“We’re starting the shoot!” a crew member’s voice rang out.
Only then did Han-byeol stand in his designated position and look up at Eun-seong. Although they had seen each other during rehearsals, they had been surrounded by people. This was the first time they were alone.
“Hello.”
“H’llo,” Han-byeol mumbled, slurring his greeting. His fierce determination to exchange no more words than absolutely necessary was glaringly obvious. Eun-seong stared at the stubborn child’s face.
Today’s scene was a dramatic reunion with his son, who had been held hostage. They had already finished filming several action scenes filled with sword fights and gunshots, and Eun-seong’s body was covered in fake blood.
“Ready, action!”
The camera light turned red.
As the shoot began, Eun-seong stood at a distance from Han-byeol. A silence so profound that not even a breath could be heard descended instantly. Han-byeol hunched his shoulders, looking slightly frightened, just as his acting coach had taught him.
Taking a deep breath, Eun-seong slowly lifted his eyelids.
He had thought he would die, but he survived.
He had thought he would never find him, but now, the son he had searched for against all odds stood before him.
The moment the child’s face filled his vision, he took a step forward, then another, moving unconsciously. How many times had the protagonist, Taek-heon, crossed the threshold of death? How many times had he offered his own life to find his son?
His steps, lacking their full strength, carried him toward the boy.
Exhausted, his knees buckling as if he might collapse at any moment, he kept walking. He stumbled, nearly falling, but he kept walking.
As the son, who did not recognize his father, stared with a frightened face, Taek-heon walked and walked until he finally stood before him.
Whether he was acting or about to, Eun-seong simply stood before Han-byeol, quietly catching his breath.
Taek-heon had found his son.
And Eun-seong had come to know his.
`[Taek-heon is overwhelmed with a flood of emotions upon finding his son.]`
It was a crucial scene, but the stage direction was brief. The director, who knew Eun-seong’s style well, left the rest entirely up to him. Eun-seong excelled in highly emotional scenes with short stage directions; the shorter they were, the more he could showcase his unique style and maximize his raw expression.
Eun-seong looked down at Han-byeol. As those clear, innocent, large eyes looked up at him, the emotions he had suppressed all this time suddenly burst forth.
Slowly dropping to one knee, Eun-seong gently caressed Han-byeol’s face. Though he knew it wasn’t time yet, his eyes were already red. Touching the child’s face with his scarred, bloodied hands, he slowly pulled him into his arms.
As the small, thin body fit perfectly into his embrace, Eun-seong’s lips parted. Veins stood out on the back of his hands as he struggled to suppress the rush of sensations. His lips, hot with unshed tears, trembled, and not knowing what else to do, he bit down hard on them.
He held the child tight, as if trying to absorb him into his very being. Even as he held him, it felt unbelievable, so he hugged him again, and then again. No matter how many days he had spent curled up, turning it over in his mind, it was an astounding truth—
Rather than worrying about his own future, his heart bled for the child’s past ten years.
“But… who are you?” Han-byeol asked in an innocent voice.
Eun-seong closed his eyes tightly. A tear that had been barely hanging on fell onto the child’s shoulder.
“I’m your dad.”
To think that you are my son.
That you… you are our child.
Why didn't I recognize you at first glance?
“Dad? My dad?”
“Yes. That's right. I'm your dad.”
Clenching his jaw, tensing his fingertips, and furrowing his brow, Eun-seong squeezed his eyes shut. As he gently cradled the back of the child’s neck, the memory of being held in his own father’s arms as a boy surged within him, and in that same moment, he understood a father’s heart.
His chest swelled, and his heart broke all at once. He hadn't wanted to cry out loud, nor had he intended to burst into violent tears, but his shoulders began to shake as a sob escaped him.
Once the dam broke, he forgot how to stop. Pouring out a gut-wrenching sob, Eun-seong collapsed onto both knees.
Don't be ridiculous. Han-byeol is my son.
…Yes. You are Go Yeon-ju’s child.
“Are you really my dad? Then why did you only come now?”
“……I’m sorry.”
And mine. Im Eun-seong’s child.
“Daddy is sorry for being late.”