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# Chapter 48: Our Voices
Junho’s fingers wouldn’t release Minjun’s face. 12:16 AM. The fluorescent lights of the convenience store bathed them in harsh white light, and in that glow, Junho’s eyes burned with desperate intensity.
“What do you really want? Tell me. What is it?”
Junho repeated the question. His voice was no longer angry. It was pleading—the voice of someone who believed that if only he shouted loud enough, Minjun would wake up.
Minjun met Junho’s gaze. There were things floating in those eyes that looked ready to shatter. Self-blame. Anxiety. A certain kind of responsibility. As if Junho believed himself accountable for Minjun’s death. And that only tightened the noose around Minjun further. The pressure to keep living so as not to wound Junho. Another kind of prison.
“I… I want to be an actor.”
Minjun said it. And it was true. But not the complete truth. The whole truth lay beneath that—in the hidden part. Not the acting itself, but wanting to become someone needed by others. Wanting to see someone look at him and smile. Wanting to become something his father could take pride in. But his father was already gone. So that someone no longer existed. And Minjun was living for a person who no longer existed.
“What does becoming an actor do? What does it solve?”
Junho asked. His hands dropped from Minjun’s face. Instead, he grabbed Minjun’s shoulders. As if he had to shake him awake.
“People see me. They know me. They remember me.”
Minjun said. And whether that was truth or lie no longer mattered. What mattered was that it was what Minjun needed to say.
“And then what?”
Junho asked again.
“I stop being ‘that person.’ I become a role. Someone’s father. Someone’s husband. Someone’s friend. When I become that, I exist.”
Minjun said. And that was the truth. The real truth.
Junho listened to him. And he understood the weight of it. Minjun’s hand tightened, and Junho’s hand wrapped around it. In front of the late-night convenience store, two people held hands. Like a drowning man grasping at a branch.
“But what about Lee Sujin…”
Junho started to speak. But didn’t finish.
“I know, hyung.”
Minjun said.
“What exactly did she say? Word for word.”
Junho asked, his eyes meeting Minjun’s again.
“She said it’s cheaper to stay at the company than pay the penalty for breach of contract. And that it’s right. Because that’s reality.”
Minjun said.
“That’s coercion.”
Junho’s voice turned cold again.
“Yes. But coercion is reality too.”
Minjun answered.
Junho didn’t let go of Minjun’s hand. They stood before the convenience store in the night, still holding on. Above them stretched Seoul’s night sky. No stars were visible. The lights were too bright. So Minjun thought to himself that no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find the stars. Everything was bright. Everything was visible. But the things that truly mattered remained hidden.
“Call us.”
Junho said suddenly.
“What?”
Minjun asked.
“Call us. Right now. Call us.”
Junho said.
“Hyung, what time is it?”
“12:20.”
“We should be sleeping.”
“I don’t care. Call. Now.”
There was something resolute in Junho’s voice. Minjun picked up his phone. Turned on the screen. Found the contact. Uri. Before her name was a small icon. The fact that the musical actress Uri was saved in his contacts shook Minjun. Since when had she become part of his life?
He pressed the call button.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Minjun?”
Her voice came through. The voice of the musical actress Uri. Sleep-roughened but still warm.
“Uri. I’m sorry.”
Minjun said.
“Sorry for what? What happened? What’s going on?”
Uri’s voice sharpened. The weight of sleep lifted instantly.
“I’m near Gangnam Station. At a convenience store. Can you come?”
Minjun said.
“Now? In the middle of the night?”
“Yeah. Now. Come.”
Junho’s voice cut in from the background.
“Junho hyung?”
Uri sounded even more alarmed.
“Yes. Uri, come out now. Don’t say anything. Just come. It’s urgent.”
Junho said.
The call ended.
Minjun and Junho waited in front of the convenience store. Time felt stretched. Five minutes felt like thirty. They didn’t speak. Just held hands. In the darkness of the night. As if the world would collapse the moment they let go.
Fifteen minutes later, Uri arrived.
She was wearing a long hoodie thrown over her work clothes. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and the marks of slumber were still on her face. But her eyes were alert. And filled with worry.
“What happened? Minjun, are you okay?”
Uri rushed to Minjun. And the moment she saw his face, her expression changed. As if she’d read something in it.
“What did you do? What happened?”
Uri asked. Her voice had turned frightened. As if Minjun had done something terrible.
“He went to Lee Sujin.”
Junho said.
Uri’s face went pale.
“Alone?”
Uri asked.
“Yes.”
Minjun answered.
“Are you insane? How could you go alone…”
Uri started, then stopped. As if she’d realized she’d said something wrong.
“What did she say to you?”
Uri asked. Her voice was now cold and calculating. As if it wasn’t the actress Uri speaking, but someone else entirely.
“How much did she say the penalty is?”
Uri asked again.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Minjun said.
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? What are you thinking? That she’s right? That you have to stay trapped at that company forever because the penalty is too high? Because that’s reality?”
Uri’s voice rose. She was shouting now.
“Uri…”
Junho said.
“No, hyung. I’m going to say this. Minjun, look at me.”
Uri took Minjun’s face in both hands. Like Junho had. But where Junho’s touch was gentle, Uri’s was forceful.
“You need to run. From that company. Tonight. Now. We’ll help you. My brother will help. You’re not alone. Why do you keep thinking you’re alone?”
Uri said. And in that moment, Minjun understood. Why Uri wouldn’t let him go. Why she’d come running in the middle of the night. Why she accepted all his lies and took them in anyway.
It wasn’t pity. It was love.
And that realization tightened the noose around him even more.
“I am alone.”
Minjun said.
“You’re not alone. You’re never alone.”
Uri said. And the moment those words left her mouth, she pulled him into her arms. 12:35 AM. In front of the convenience store. Two actors and one person who wasn’t stood together. And one of them was holding another.
Minjun felt Uri’s body. Her warmth. Her heartbeat. And how different it was from his own. Her heart was racing. Anxious. As if it was beating for him.
“Uri… I might not be able to do it.”
Minjun whispered to her ear.
“Do what?”
Uri asked.
“Run away. Run away from Lee Sujin.”
Minjun said.
“Then we’ll help you. I’ll help you.”
Uri said.
“How can you help?”
Minjun asked.
Uri pulled back from him. And looked into his eyes.
“I’m a musical actress. My brother is an actor. And you’re an actor. We’re all actors. And what are actors good at?”
Uri asked.
“Lying.”
Minjun answered.
“Exactly. Lying. We’re going to lie to Lee Sujin. You’ll seem like you’re staying at the company, but you’ll actually be leaving. We’ll prepare for a few weeks. Your résumé. Your contract. Your penalty. And in the meantime, you’re going to act like the most loyal actor at that company. Loyal enough that Lee Sujin won’t suspect a thing. And then, when we’ve prepared everything, you’ll disappear.”
Uri said. The moment she finished, Junho placed his hand on her shoulder.
“What did you just say?”
Junho asked. His voice was measured.
“Hyung, this is reality. What did she say? Who cares about the penalty? We can pay it. I can pay it, or Minjun can pay it in installments. But we’re getting out. Out of that company. You knew I’d abandon you?”
Uri asked.
“I didn’t.”
Minjun said.
“Right. You didn’t. Because you were always alone. So you always knew people would abandon you. But we won’t. I won’t. Neither will hyung. Neither will my brother.”
Uri said. And in that moment, something blurred in Minjun’s eyes.
“Uri…”
Minjun said.
“What?”
Uri asked.
“Thank you.”
Minjun said.
“Thank you? What are you doing? We haven’t even started yet and you’re already thanking me? You cry now. Right here. In the middle of the night. In front of a convenience store. Cry to me. Don’t thank me—depend on me. You’re going to depend on me from now on. Understand?”
Uri said. And Minjun cried.
12:47 AM. In front of the convenience store. One actor cried. And two other actors held him. As if they were trying to save his life.
In that moment, Minjun’s phone rang.
A name appeared on the screen: Uri. No, it was written differently.
“Uri Unni (Musical)”
But the call was already ending. Because Uri was already standing beside him.
But the second call that came through was different.
“CEO Lee Sujin”
12:48 AM.
Minjun’s hand trembled.
“Don’t answer.”
Junho said.
“Answer it.”
Uri said.
“What?”
Junho looked at her.
“Answer. And don’t say anything. Just listen. And go to work tomorrow. Like nothing happened. I’ll figure out what to do.”
Uri said.
Minjun answered.
“Yes, CEO.”
“Minjun.”
Lee Sujin’s voice came through. The voice of someone awake at this hour. As if she’d been waiting too.
“The Netflix role. It’s confirmed. Congratulations.”