Welcome Back, Ten
Yoon Jay had come to enjoy riding public transit lately.
He'd taken it a few times in the US, but only briefly while staying in major cities. Mostly he'd lived free — road-tripping in the car his father had left him, wandering wherever his heart took him, settling in a promising area just long enough to find work before moving on again.
Great place for people-watching.
Public transit was full of all kinds of people. He deliberately rode during rush hour, rode the last trains of the night, even rode Line 1 with its infamous reputation. He never quite found anyone as remarkable as he'd hoped, but the more references he gathered, the more nourishment they became for his acting — so whenever he had a spare moment, he hopped on a bus or a train.
"Isn't he seriously, insanely handsome?"
"He is handsome. But look, I have this."
"Wait, really? Ha, so you are into him."
"Oh, stop pretending you're above my taste."
"If you really hated him, would you have this saved?"
It was an off-peak hour, so the hushed chatter of the two women sitting across from him carried all the way over.
He could hear his own voice coming from their phones, too, so Yoon Jay lifted his head. Are they talking about me?
"Well... he's just... so good-looking I looked him up. He's everywhere these days."
"Right?"
"He barely has any works out, though. Not much to watch. Isn't it kind of boring being his fan?"
"Oh, he'll shoot plenty from now on."
"Yeah, my bias's next project comes out at the earliest next year anyway. Where are we passing right now?"
Hmm... true enough. You need a lot of credits for there to be a lot to watch.
When the two women raised their heads, Yoon Jay deliberately pretended not to notice and kept his eyes on his phone.
"But... that guy looks just like him."
"Where? Hey, how would you know just from his eyes?"
Their whispers would have been lost on anyone else, but they reached Yoon Jay's ears just fine. His senses were sharper than most people's.
Han Jin-woo had told him to always wear a mask or a cap when he went out, and Yoon Jay had obliged while remaining half-convinced. Surely the fuss was an internet-only phenomenon; the real world would be different.
So he'd chalked it up to a mild case of celebrity worship — but then,
Wait, isn't that guy...?
Is that him? Yoon Jae-hee?
Isn't that Yoon Jay?
Hmm, not sure?
More and more people recognized him as he passed, and there was nothing to be done about it. Being recognized, having fans — all of that was welcome. But having people point at him and whisper behind his back felt uncomfortably like the days of Yoon Jae-hee, and it was a little hard to endure.
"Wow, he really does look like Yoon Jay."
"Now that you mention it, it's not even a lookalike thing, is it?"
"Come on, who's that busy these days that they'd ride the subway?"
So it is me. Mischief suddenly welled up in him, and Yoon Jay pulled down his mask and tipped his cap slightly back.
"Anyway—"
"But his filmography is still thin, right? And the characters, too—"
So character choice matters. Maybe next time, if there's a cool role, I'll take one. Make the fans happy.
"Huh? Hey..."
The woman who'd been half ignoring her friend's enthusiasm raised her head at the gaze she felt from across the aisle, confirmed who it was, and blinked. The man from the screen was standing in real life.
"Ohmygod—!"
Still unable to believe it, she stared back and forth between her phone and Yoon Jay, then swallowed hard.
It happened to be his stop. Yoon Jay rose and gave them a small, polite bow. The two women, silently mouthing a thank-you and managing only a faint, dazed smile, could do nothing but stare.
"Kyaaaaah!"
Only after he'd stepped off the train did their voices finally burst out.
They did say I could just walk in.
Is security really this relaxed? Leaving that brief complaint behind, Yoon Jay pushed open the door of the Wings Company office.
Apparently nobody had gone out today, because nearly the entire staff was training.
Then again, with people like these around, who on earth would dare break in?
Yoon Jay sat down quietly where he wouldn't disturb anyone and watched them work. They've gotten a lot better. Especially Jung Seung-woo. Before carrying out his final operation, he had once stopped in Korea and served as an instructor for Seung-woo's unit.
"Good to see you."
"Jay's here, huh."
"CEO-nim. It's been a while."
"I'm not your CEO anymore, kid. Just call me hyung."
Looking at Yoon Jay, now with the unmistakable polish of a celebrity about him, Park Chul-woo let out an admiring whistle. "Man."
"The place has really changed, hasn't it?"
"Yeah. Hired a lot of new staff."
"Ohhh."
The new recruits who'd come out of university security programs were being assigned to celebrity protection and event detail like before, while the veterans now focused mainly on guarding VIPs of national importance.
"Since we're on the subject — could you help me translate something? I'll pay you well."
"I'll just do it for free."
"Hey, you've got to do the math on these things."
"It's not that hard. Are those gentlemen the new recruits?"
"Yah. Tae-yang. Hold on a second."
At Park Chul-woo's call, Choi Tae-yang — who had been coaching the recruits — spotted Yoon Jay. He grumbled something under his breath, but his face plainly lit up.
"You came?"
"Hyung-nim!"
"Hey."
"Whew, look at you. You're a full-on celebrity now."
Jung Seung-woo, on the other hand, broke into a wide grin. Then the two of them studied Yoon Jay closely.
Setting aside the celebrity polish, the heavy, brooding aura that used to envelop him seemed somehow... lighter. It was hard to put into words, exactly—
"What's wrong?"
"Something... something about you feels different."
"He's right. What is it? Anyway, you look way better now, hyung-nim."
"Different, my foot. The camera feed you watch must just be higher resolution, that's all."
Park Chul-woo sensed the strangeness too, but it was a good change, so he feigned ignorance and led Yoon Jay over to the recruits. The moment they recognized him, their eyes gleamed.
"Greet him. He's your senior in the business."
"That's a stretch — he barely worked here long enough to qualify."
"Once you're family, you're family forever."
The CEO talks just like my Captain. Yoon Jay greeted the recruits, who had been waiting bashfully for their cue. "Well then — I look forward to working with you all."
"Do you know who this man is?"
"Honestly, sir, he's the reason I even found out about this company."
"Oh, is that so?"
"My little sister is a huge fan. Would it be all right to take a photo with you, sunbae-nim?"
At the recruit's smooth, glib approach, Yoon Jay smiled and nodded. Surrounded by the recruits, posing for photo after photo, he watched Choi Tae-yang stride over with a gleam of grim determination in his eye.
"Yah. How about a round? For old times' sake."
"Right now?"
"Your body's itching for it too, isn't it?"
Yoon Jay chuckled and shrugged off his outer coat. Then, with an easy grip, he caught the training knife Jung Seung-woo tossed him.
"Yah, Yoon Jay. This time I'm winning."
"Just don't come crying to me afterwards. We have an audience."
"Wow, CEO-nim, did you hear that? He actually jokes?"
But Park Chul-woo only smirked. "Don't go pulling a moral victory again when you lose to Choi Tae-yang."
"He's right."
"Nobody in this room is on my side, are they..."
Well, who told you to react so hilariously every time? After a brief stretch, Yoon Jay idly flipped the knife into the air and caught it, over and over — then abruptly stepped in with a long, powerful stride and claimed the ground in front of Choi Tae-yang.
"Hey! Ambush is cheating!"
"Would you be saying that in a real fight?"
"Why, you—!"
Scrambling backward, Choi Tae-yang reset his stance and launched a counterattack. Naturally, the strike was caught on Yoon Jay's forearm.
"Whoa..."
"He's genuinely good."
The recruits stood there, jaws hanging open, utterly absorbed in the two men's tense exchange of blows.
In truth, some of them had quietly harbored a suspicion — that he'd only passed through Wings Company as a stepping stone to a celebrity debut.
But all of that doubt evaporated with his very first movement. Someone even started filming his footwork on their phone.
And then there was no contest at all. Driven back by Yoon Jay's momentum, Choi Tae-yang ended up on the mat, flailing his arms and legs at the air and howling his grievances.
"This isn't fair! Why! He went off and took a different path while I worked my butt off!"
"Hyung. I'm telling you, it doesn't work on Jay hyung-nim."
He's just letting me win to build me up in front of the recruits, obviously. Yoon Jay reached down a hand and pulled him to his feet.
In fact, Choi Tae-yang had thrown himself into it with genuine life-or-death ferocity — but the strange misunderstanding he alone was laboring under was lost on Yoon Jay himself.
"Man, that came out great. Can we post this video on the company account?"
Yoon Jay hesitated for a moment.
Actors were very different from idols. Without news of a next project, they generated almost no content, and even with a finished work in the can, a delayed release over a production company's circumstances or some such issue could make it look as though they'd been idle for months, even years.
Some fans apparently grew restless because of it — so a little "teaser content" wouldn't hurt, would it?
"No objection here. What about you, Tae-yang?"
"Him? Well..."
"Excuse me, I'm right here!"
Letting fans walk all over you was bad form, but this much, he could grant freely.
"Someone with skills like that — why aren't you doing action?"
"Exactly, hyung-nim. How about a military genre?"
"Yah, you kids think these things get whipped up overnight? He'll figure it out himself."
Military action, huh. He wasn't yet sure what he'd make of it, but then Daldongne drifted back to him. Back then, too, he'd acted out a situation so like his past — and simply letting the current carry him had turned out strangely cathartic.
"Honestly, his agency's got real star power now, doesn't it? There were articles about Im Seongho and Ko Yu-jin signing under the same roof."
"Oh, really?"
"Hyung-nim, my sister is dying for a photo of you—"
"Oh right, my sister too."
Yoon Jay went out for lunch with the Wings Company people he'd grown close to, and the new recruits stared after the door he'd disappeared through.
"So... where exactly is he from?"
"I heard Tae-yang hyung say Navy SEALs earlier."
"Seriously? And he's never once used it for publicity? Why?"
"Maybe he just doesn't want it out there. Some people don't like riding on fame that isn't from their craft."
"That's so cool, though."
"And if not that..."
"Maybe there's something about him that would hurt to know?"
"Pfft, come on."
The next person he met was Director Lee Young-chang.
"I watched your drama. All of it."
"Thank you. My acting fee came in, so lunch is on me today."
"Is that so?"
So this was what it felt like — the thing people called a child treating their parents to a meal with their first paycheck. Lee Young-chang felt his heart warm.
Over the meal, they talked of this and that — works, the industry. Cho Youkyeong had moved back to Korea for good; there was talk that he ought to meet her at least once.
"I don't hold anything against her."
"She's being careful, I think — because of how the rumors turned out, twisted the way they were."
Only about a decade late to figure that out. Lee Young-chang muttered under his breath.
"Let's all meet up together sometime, the three of us."
"Yes, let's."
Yoon Jay knew her actions hadn't been malicious. She was someone who would be an asset to his career anyway.
"By the way... toward the end of Daldongne."
Of course he noticed. Yoon Jay set down his glass of water.
"You mean the scene where I carry Ahra and run."
"Yes. I'd like to hear what was in your heart when you played it. Would you tell me?"
Lee Young-chang was his mentor, the man who had saved his father, a person of singular importance to Yoon Jay. He was hardly the type to let anything slip elsewhere — surely it would be all right to lay it bare.
"Have you seen what spread about my past on the internet? About the 115 Disaster...?"
"I have. I make a point of never missing anything about you. Does it trouble you?"
"No. It was going to come out sooner or later either way."
Yoon Jay exhaled quietly and spoke.
"There was a boy in that massacre I couldn't save. His name was Benjamin."
"Benjamin."
"I performed first aid and ran outside carrying him. He went into shock on the way and died."
"...He wasn't a boy you failed to save. It was simply bad luck — nothing more."
He sounds just like the Captain. Yoon Jay smiled faintly.
Then he described what he had felt on set. How, as the scene of carrying Cho Ahra on his back and running overlapped with the memory of carrying Benjamin, it had been difficult for a while.
"But the ending was a little different this time."
If only I'd been faster. If only my first aid had been better. The Benjamin he had held hostage in his heart with those endless what-ifs — for the first time, he had been able to let him go. Watching him overlap with Cho Ahra, the one he saved on screen.
"So in the end, you overcame a wound you'd been carrying — through the work itself."
"I suppose so. Which is probably why what came through wasn't just the character. It was my own emotion."
"That's exactly why it fit the scene so well. The hospital scene, especially... honestly—"
"Thank you."
Yoon Jay knew, too. He knew that the director loved it so much because of that brief flash of sensation he'd felt while playing Park Dong-hwa. He was still far from being able to summon that sensation at will.
Still, it might be worth an experiment — taking on a work with a scene that echoed the past, and seeing what happened.
"Excuse me just a moment."
"Of course. Go ahead, take your time."
While Yoon Jay stepped away to take a call, Lee Young-chang bent over his notebook with a grave face, writing something down. A film made for Yoon Jay, and no one else. A film that would hold his entire life within it.
For that, I'll need to know everything about your life.
He decided he ought to make occasions like this one a regular thing.
Having wrapped up his schedule in Korea, Yoon Jay boarded his flight. There were visa matters to sort out, and busier days lay ahead, so he'd taken a short vacation as well. At the thought of seeing his family back home for the first time in a while, his mood lifted.
Just a few months there, and this place already feels unfamiliar.
He had barely stopped walking in the airport when the sound of someone calling him made his eyes go wide.
"Ten. Welcome home."
"...Sir? What on earth brings you here?"
The man who was supposed to be in Syria — why was he here?