Yes or no.
Black or white.
Right or wrong.
The world loves its absolutes—clean lines, clear answers.
But life, Jihoon thought, was never drawn in ink. It bled in shades of gray.
For centuries, humanity had tried to answer that simple question.
Some said yes, with the fire of conviction.
Some said no, with the chill of reason.
But Jihoon lingered in between—not out of fear, not out of doubt, but because he was still listening for the quiet voice within him, the one that might someday tell him what his heart truly wanted to say.
The silence stretched, tender and uncertain, like the moment before a conviction.
Yet silence alone would not answer the question for him.
And as for Taeyeon's unspoken expectation, her answer wouldn't come tonight either.
It would take time—weeks, maybe even months—and by then, whether Jihoon decided to submit his application for the MBC program or not, that would be his answer.
Only then would the truth become clear.
Because by then, his answer would no longer be a simple yes or no.
It would be something deeper—something that sounded more like a confession.
Although it took him a while to fully grasp Taeyeon's underlying message, Jihoon wasn't slow-witted.
Once her meaning sank in, he understood what she had really been asking for.
Still, understanding didn't make it any easier.
After leaving the convenience store with bags full of snacks for the girls, Jihoon walked Taeyeon back to the hotel. They stopped before the entrance, bathed in the soft glow of the lobby lights.
She turned to him with a small, polite smile. "Thanks for walking me."
Jihoon nodded, returning the smile. "Get some rest. You've got an early day tomorrow."
They waved goodbye, still smiling, but both carried a quiet weight in their chests—a question left unanswered, a feeling left unspoken.
Something unspoken lingered, like the aftertaste of a half-finished thought.
They waved goodbye, still smiling, but both carried a quiet weight in their chests—a question left unanswered, a feeling left unspoken.
As the elevator doors closed behind her, Jihoon remained outside, watching the lights of Los Angeles shimmer in the distance. He inhaled deeply, letting the mix of warm and cold air wash over him. The night felt uncertain—like his thoughts, like his heart.
He exhaled slowly, shaking his head as if to scatter the tangled thoughts from his mind.
Then, with a quiet sigh, he opened the car door and slipped inside.
What he didn't notice was that, several floors above, a faint silhouette stood by the window—the outline of someone watching him quietly from behind the glass.
No one knew how long she had been there, or what expression she wore.
But one thing was certain—that night, none of the three of them—Jihoon, Taeyeon, or Jessica—would find sleep easily.
---
The next few days passed in a blur.
Since the girls were in LA for their schedules, Jihoon's nights after shooting The Departed became unexpectedly eventful.
So for three days straight—after wrapping filming and after the girls finished their own activities—Jihoon gave them a simple tour around the city.
"Tour" might have been an exaggeration.
In truth, it was more like restaurant hopping.
Dinner at a famous Italian place.
Gelato at a shop that claimed to have the best pistachio in California.
A late-night drive to see the city lights on Mulholland Drive.
Repeat.
Three days of chaos.
Nine girls with nine different personalities.
One carefree.
One fiery.
One sarcastic.
One shy.
One loud.
One bossy.
And so on.
Jihoon found himself juggling their moods like a man balancing spinning plates on chopsticks. One wrong move, and he'd find himself stepping on a landmine—or as he liked to call it, "SNSD's sensor zones."
He had missed this kind of chaos.
But he also didn't realize that while creating chaos of one kind… he had accidentally created chaos of another.
Because a mess was waiting for him back on the film set.
After three days of outdoor shooting in the streets of Compton, filming for The Departed shifted back indoors.
Indoor shoots were supposed to be faster—the environment was controlled, props were ready, lighting pre-set.
But the last three days… things had not sped up.
In fact, they had slowed.
The moment Jihoon stepped into the studio, he was met by a pair of furious eyes blazing with such intensity he almost stumbled backward.
Mara.
Her expression practically radiated the heat of a volcanic eruption. If someone had drawn lava around her feet, the visual would've been perfectly accurate.
Jihoon immediately knew something had snapped. He tried to veer away, pretending he had business on the opposite side of the set, but it was too late.
Her fuse had already reached the bomb.
"LEEEE!!! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOU COST US BY DELAYING PRODUCTION?!"
Jihoon froze mid-step—literally.
One foot hovered in the air, unsure whether to step forward or backward.
To be fair… anyone in Mara's shoes would understand her rage.
After purchasing shares of JH, the company had become her pride and joy.
Born a Murdoch, Mara had grown up in a world where money solved everything. A snap of her fingers, and anything she wanted appeared.
But trading her Netflix shares for JH's?
That was her first true "adult decision."
Her first personal investment.
And she treated JH like her baby.
So when she heard that Jihoon—her golden filmmaker—had been slacking off to give "tours" to his pretty friends from Korea, her hair practically stood on end like a frightened cat ready to claw someone's face off.
"Eh… about that…" Jihoon started sheepishly. "My friends came all the way from Korea. It'd be rude not to accompany them."
"That's not the issue!" Mara snapped. "You could go have fun by yourself! But you should have let the assistant director continue shooting the outdoor scenes! Do you know how much you wasted?! We should've finished two days ago—TWO!"
"My bad… I'll pay attention next time. Promise," Jihoon muttered, bowing slightly as if she were an angry grandmother.
"THERE WILL BE NO NEXT TIME!" she barked. "Don't think you can do whatever you want just because you won some award! JH will run with or without you! Got it?!"
"Yes, yes… I understand… Won't happen again…" Jihoon said, wiping the cold sweat dripping down his forehead.
After finally blowing out the steam in her system, Mara stomped away.
But even from behind, her fury radiated like heat waves on asphalt.
Jihoon exhaled in relief and prepared to step forward—
When Leonardo stopped him.
Standing there with arms crossed, he smirked. "Lee… isn't JH your company? Why are YOU apologizing?"
Jihoon froze again.
Right.
He was the boss.
Leonardo dragged a palm down his face, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "This guy… hopeless."
And because Mara's shouting had turned the entire set silent… everyone heard Leonardo's remark.
Which was why—in the next second—the entire crew tried desperately to suppress their giggles.