It Is Not Okay
It wasn't okay.
Once the misunderstanding with his family had been cleared up, the rest of his vacation was truly wonderful. Everyone dutifully followed the hastily improvised Jenkins household rule that phones were to be kept far away so the family could spend time together, uninterrupted.
For the first time in ages, he repaired a car with his father in the garage, and at his mother's request, fixed the roof alongside his sister. They ate out together, and he caught up with the neighborhood kids.
"Aren't those your half-siblings?"
"...I suppose they are."
He even stumbled across merchandise for the twins—bootlegged, no question—being sold near Korea Town. Back in Korea, someone always recognized him the moment he stepped outside; here, no one did, and it was a relief.
"So nobody here recognizes you yet, huh."
"Of course not. I've barely done any work so far."
"Well, let's make you famous here too. Something to brag about to your friends."
"Haha!"
Should he try breaking into Hollywood, then? Truthfully, he'd received a few offers back when he'd been living in the States... Regardless, his parents looked genuinely happy, as though their long-wandering son had finally put down roots somewhere.
And then, thanks to Yoon Jay, the two families connected—even if only through a video call.
"My half-siblings say they'd like to greet you over the call."
"That sounds great to us!"
The twins assured him they'd both attended English-language kindergartens and that language was nothing to worry about, but just in case, he stood by ready to interpret—
(Hello! It's wonderful to meet you!)
Contrary to his concerns, Yoon Dojun and Yoon Dohwa's English was perfectly respectable. Korea's early childhood education was truly astonishing.
"You really did come."
"Of course."
John observed Yoon Jay, who seemed to be in good spirits.
Exceptionally gifted, Jay had distinguished himself in an astonishingly short time. Even back in the Navy SEALs, he had saved countless comrades, extracted his unit from impossible situations, and somehow dragged every operation across the finish line.
Had the super soldier project that had been quietly brewing somewhere never been scrapped, Yoon Jay would almost certainly have been its first-choice candidate.
God, I still want him so badly...
In Operation Lion's Shadow, he had been inserted into the field disguised as a Korean missionary, only to be compromised partway through. Even after being detained inside that den of terrorists and made into the deputy commander's torture toy, he had still clawed his way out, put a bullet in Asad Yasin Qadir, and returned to complete the mission successfully.
To this day he was openly spoken of as a legendary soldier. Whenever a new recruit joined the unit, the lore came out automatically—one of the guys who's already discharged? Total lunatic. Jay himself had no idea. He didn't seem particularly interested in knowing, either.
"Thank you for driving me here."
"Don't mention it."
Seated in John's car, Yoon Jay watched the house recede into the distance. The vacation had been too short, but there would always be another chance to come back.
"Did you know? Operation For Ten has a decent chance of succeeding."
"I see."
"And if that operation succeeds, your existence could inevitably come to light."
The operation's very name had been chosen to honor someone, after all—the question of who Ten was would inevitably surface. But secrecy was the lifeblood of that world; even if it came out, it would only surface briefly within the military.
"Honestly, it's a waste of your abilities. You could accomplish so much in a better place."
You're just asking me to come work under you again, dressed up in about ten layers of euphemism. Yoon Jay pretended not to notice and turned his gaze to the window.
"How about coming back this way before you get any more famous? Even as a civilian contractor."
"I suppose it's finally time to answer that question you asked me before."
John looked at him with visible interest. His head was twisted nearly sideways, yet somehow he was still driving flawlessly.
"Eyes on the road, please."
"Oh—sorry about that."
After dropping Yoon Jay at his place, John went to see his acting again. The scene in Daldongne where he carried the knife-wounded Choi Ahra down the hillside stirred something heavy and inexplicable in his chest, even without understanding a word of Korean.
Extraordinary abilities and that kind of acting on top of it... Was he just born to be a spy?
"I think you assume that because my skills are somewhat special, my mind must be equally special. But..."
Yoon Jay had absolutely no intention of returning. The question of whether acting had been part of his application for discharge was simply absurd.
You can't seriously be that desperate for me... Was I not in exactly that situation back then? You saw all of the scars I still carry, and you still think that way?
"You've got the wrong idea."
John couldn't bring himself to believe those words. With abilities that extraordinary, he had assumed Jay had already conquered everything.
"You're asking whether acting was part of it, back then? No. That was just me being me."
"..."
"And even now—it's not okay."
"Sorry? But..."
But you look perfectly fine right now. John frowned, baffled. Yoon Jay raised a hand as if to say just listen, cutting him off.
Either way, the conclusion with John Doe was always the same: coax him in, keep him close, and put his unusual abilities to use. Given that the man still hadn't given up on the idea even after all these years, it seemed he would only understand if the mask he had so deliberately cracked open, buried, and hidden was finally dragged out into the open.
"The fact that I look relatively fine compared to back then means nothing. That was who I really was. What you're looking at now is acting."
"Acting?"
"Hoo..."
Yoon Jay took a long, deep breath. Truthfully, he hadn't wanted to use this method. He allowed a slight crack to form in the mask he had worked so hard to construct.
John noticed Yoon Jay's hands trembling violently. His face drained of color in an instant, and his breathing grew faintly ragged. It was a reaction so organic that no amount of acting could have manufactured it.
"I merely thought about that time, for a moment. Just the thought."
"..."
"Could these hands actually pull a trigger? Is there any guarantee I wouldn't fire on my own people?"
There was no treatment he hadn't tried. He wore the threshold of counseling centers threadbare. Even diligently taking his prescribed medications changed nothing.
So he had arrived at the mask: erasing the person he had become and layering the comparatively whole person he used to be on top. The method had cost him countless failed attempts, and only after long years of agonizing and refinement was he able to perfect it.
"Hoo..."
Even though the crack had been momentary, the aftermath lingered. If he was being honest, when he'd acted as Baek Jin-ri in The Garden of Evil, his own ambition had gotten the better of him—imitating that man's tics and habits had been genuinely risky too.
"...I see."
"So it's time to let go of your lingering hopes. Thank you for seeing me to the airport."
Yoon Jay stepped out of the car, pulled his luggage from the trunk, and started toward the terminal entrance. At that moment, John—who had lingered in the driver's seat, lost in thought—got out and called after him. Not as Ten. As JJ.
"JJ."
"Still have unfinished business, do we?"
"If, at some point in your life, you ever need something from me, I'll help you—to the extent that I'm able."
Yoon Jay tilted his head, not following. John held out a hand, as if to reassure him.
"This time it's genuinely sincere. My own personal goodwill."
"Why would you go this far?"
"Because I've become curious about just how far you can go."
He knew when to retreat. He had always carried a curiosity about Yoon Jay as a human being, and it felt a shame to sever the connection entirely.
For all his clinging over the years, the clean exit was what troubled Yoon Jay—but he still took the card containing John's personal contact information from his outstretched hand. And they shook on it.
"...See you next time, then."
"If I'm ever in Korea, I'll look you up."
Having parted ways with John, Yoon Jay walked into the airport.
Even with his relationship with his family now firmly mended, the things that continued to haunt him remained.
I shouldn't keep hiding behind this forever.
He had to solve the root of the problem. The mask could shatter at any time.
That was why, in the middle of playing Kim Sanghyeon in Daldongne, having been able to shed the weight of Benjamin had been a real windfall. How can I resolve what still remains in me, too? Maybe I should start choosing roles that genuinely overlap with my real past.
Kim Sanghyeon might have been a coincidence, but...
He turned his mind, seriously this time, back to the film Lee Seo-won had proposed.
"Look, over there."
"Where?"
In the airport lounge, the click of a phone camera rang out—a Korean tourist had recognized him. Yoon Jay tucked his earphones in and closed his eyes.
"Hyung!"
When he arrived at the airport, Han Jin-woo was already waiting outside. He relieved Yoon Jay of half his luggage and strode ahead.
"You didn't have to come out for this."
"Oh, come on—you've got all this stuff. Were you planning to lug it all here by yourself?"
There were certainly celebrities who treated their managers like hired help, but Yoon Jay was so excessively self-sufficient that it worried Jin-woo more often than not.
"How was the vacation?"
"Good. Nothing happened while I was gone, right?"
"Hm... well, nothing much."
In truth, a few small incidents had occurred after Yoon Jay left for the States.
An actor's fandom naturally ebbs and flows. When a project thrives, fans flood in like high tide; when it ends, they recede like the tide going out.
But Yoon Jay was a strange case. Sure, he was on a hot streak these days, but with so few projects under his belt, his fandom's firepower was bizarrely close to that of an idol group's.
Vicious 'anti' comments latched on naturally, but that was nothing new. People these days picked fights over the smallest nothing, didn't they? In any case, the people fabricating and falsifying his past had only grown worse.
"Well, something did happen, I guess."
"Hyung, a photo of you spotted in Korea Town got posted. And..."
At Yoon Jay's suspicion, Han Jin-woo answered hurriedly.
"Someone put up a manipulated post claiming the blonde woman in the photo was your longtime girlfriend."
"Ugh."
A blonde woman in Korea Town could only be Serena. Good lord—a longtime girlfriend? What a horrifying thing to say...
"She's my sister."
The reaction was so authentically that of a real-life sibling that Han Jin-woo burst into quiet laughter.
There had been plenty of trolling posts thrown out like bait just to see what would snag, and plenty of articles written by wreckers that copied and pasted a YouTuber's baseless speculation without a shred of verification. That was probably what had caught him, Jin-woo explained.
"I heard the agency already issued a statement saying it was groundless."
"Is that even news-worthy?"
"There are so many quasi-outlets crawling around these days... It's not so different in the States, is it?"
Beats me. Probably about the same.
"Anyway, hyung, something else of yours surfaced too."
"What now?"
Apparently people had discovered Yoon Jay in the heartwarming video compilations circulating on MyTube—surprise reunion videos of military families, footage of soldiers returning from deployment, that sort of thing.
Yoon Jay focused on the screen Han Jin-woo showed him.
It had been Serena's high school graduation ceremony. The memory surfaced, and he smiled faintly.
"So what is this exactly?"
"That blonde woman's graduation ceremony."
"Ah. I see."
At any rate, there were even people who loved this—like an onion, his past kept yielding a new layer every time someone dug for it, and they found the peeling charming.
"Hyung, the clothes from your fitting are at your place, so make sure you try them on."
"Got it."
He had a schedule starting tomorrow. It was time to begin appearing at the award ceremonies—as a presenter, and as a nominee.
Though he still couldn't quite understand why a domestic awards ceremony, hosted by a domestic broadcaster, was being held overseas.
"Hyung, you're going to sweep this time, you know? Better prepare an acceptance speech."
"Sure."
How much could a newcomer possibly win, anyway? Truth be told, he had little interest in awards. He'd collected plenty of them in his childhood already.
"Oh, right. One thing I'm curious about—what are the criteria for the Best New Actor award? I saw someone who debuted ages ago win one recently."
"Ah, that? Honestly, 'newcomer award' is just the label—the networks and organizers basically do whatever they want with it."
"...Really?"
"There are loose guidelines—something about not being eligible once you've got more than a certain number of lead and supporting roles—but at the end of the day they just hand it to whoever they want and shuffle the categories to fit. There's even been talk about whether someone who came up through indie films and then went major counts as a newcomer or not."
So that's how it works. Since his own nomination was for a drama anyway, there was no need to worry about it.