chapter 138
The announcement had gone better than Haru had expected.
By the time the official casting notice for Nexus appeared across the agency's social media accounts, the initial nervousness he had been carrying in his chest had already begun to dissolve.
There had been questions, of course.
There were always questions when someone was cast in a production with the kind of expectations surrounding Nexus. Hulu had a reputation. The series had already attracted attention before filming had even begun, and Haru's name appearing among the cast had naturally given people something to talk about.
But the reaction had been overwhelmingly positive.
The comments were filled with anticipation rather than suspicion. People were talking about his previous performances, sharing clips from his older projects, comparing his appearance to the character description that had been circulating among fans.
Some even seemed surprised that he had landed such a role so quickly after everything that had happened.
Haru had learned not to read too much into public opinion.
One day, people could praise him as the next rising star.
The next, they could tear him apart for something as insignificant as the expression on his face during an interview.
So he had closed the applications, placed his phone facedown on the table, and allowed himself to breathe.
He had a role.
An international production.
He had several days before filming began.
Which was why, after weeks of constantly moving between schedules, meetings, fittings, interviews, rehearsals, and everything else that came with being Haru now, he decided to go see Sehee
She opened the door wearing an oversized T-shirt, loose shorts, and the expression of someone who had been interrupted halfway through deciding whether she wanted to order food or cook.
Her eyes immediately went past him.
Then down.
Then back up.
"You bought a car?"
Haru looked over his shoulder at the vehicle parked downstairs as though he had forgotten it was there.
"Apparently."
Sehee stared at him.
"Apparently?"
He shrugged.
"It's mine."
"That's worse."
Haru laughed.
It was a genuine laugh, quiet and unguarded.
Sehee stepped aside and let him in, still shaking her head.
She had known him long enough to recognize when something was different.
It wasn't merely the car.
Haru carried himself differently now.
Not necessarily more confidently.
If anything, there was a tiredness behind him that hadn't been there before.
But there was also a strange steadiness.
The first evening passed without anything particularly important happening.
That was precisely what made it important.
They ordered food, complained about the delivery time, ate while watching something neither of them paid enough attention to, and eventually ended up in the kitchen because Sehee had decided they should make something themselves.
It was supposed to be simple.
It wasn't.
The kitchen quickly became a disaster.
Flour ended up on the counter.
Something burned.
Sehee insisted the smoke was normal.
Haru disagreed.
Neither of them admitted that neither actually knew what they were doing.
By midnight, they were eating their questionable creation straight from the pan.
Haru laughed so hard his stomach hurt.
Sehee complained that he had ruined her kitchen.
The following morning, Sehee woke him by throwing a cushion at his face.
"You have somewhere to be?"
"No."
"Then get up."
"Why?"
"Because you're wasting my bonding time."
Haru pulled the blanket over his head.
She threw another cushion.
Eventually, they ended up sitting on the floor with their laptops open between them.
Sehee had become surprisingly serious about her social media work.
She had learned how to negotiate collaborations, plan content, understand engagement, and distinguish between companies that genuinely wanted to work with her and companies that simply wanted cheap exposure.
Haru listened as she explained sponsorship rates with the seriousness of someone discussing international trade.
"You know you're basically running a business now," he said.
"I know."
"You have contracts."
"yah."
"You're making money from taking pictures of yourself."
She narrowed her eyes.
"It's called influencing."
"It's still taking pictures."
She kicked his leg.
He laughed.
But beneath the teasing, Haru was genuinely impressed.
Sehee had built something for herself.
She had slowly figured it out.
And perhaps because Haru understood how difficult that was, he found himself proud of her.
They talked about everything.
Her followers.
His upcoming filming schedule.
The pressure surrounding Nexus.
His agency.
The strange way strangers now recognized him.
The car.
The endless speculation surrounding his relationship.
Sehee didn't pry about Raiven.
She never had.
That was one of the reasons Haru trusted her.
Instead, she simply asked how he was doing.
And somehow, that question was harder to answer than everything else.
"I'm okay."
She looked at him.
"Actually?"
Haru considered it.
"Actually."
It wasn't entirely true.
But it wasn't a lie either.
He was okay.
For now.
His relationship with Raiven was in a good place.
His career was finally moving in the direction he had always wanted.
He had a major production waiting for him.
His life was beginning to resemble something he was familiar with.
Perhaps that was enough.
They spent a second night together.
Nothing dramatic happened.
They stayed up too late, talked about things that didn't matter, argued over what to watch, and eventually fell asleep in the middle of a conversation.
For two days, Haru was simply Haru.
Just Sehee's annoying friend who couldn't cook properly and kept stealing food from her refrigerator.
When he finally left, she stood at the doorway with her arms crossed.
"Don't disappear again."
"I won't."
"You said that last time."
"I mean it this time."
She studied him before finally nodding.
"Fine."
"Text me when you get home."
"I will."
He smiled.
The drive back was quiet.
The city moved around him in familiar fragments.
Traffic lights.
Buildings.
People crossing streets.
Advertisements glowing from massive screens.
He drove without rushing.
There was no reason to.
He had nowhere to be.
For the next few days, he was free.
Instead, the closer he got to the apartment, the more he found himself thinking about how quickly his life had changed.
Now he was driving a car that still felt too expensive to belong to him currently , returning to an apartment that had become a home, with a major international production waiting for him.
And somewhere inside that life was Raiven.
Haru smiled faintly at the thought.
He wondered if he was home.
He wondered if Raiven had returned from his own schedule.
He wondered whether they would have dinner together.
The thought warmed him.
By the time he reached the apartment, the sky had darkened.
Haru parked, collected his things, and made his way upstairs.
The corridor was quiet.
He reached the door.
Stopped.
Something about the silence felt strange.
He frowned.
Then shook it off.
He unlocked the door.
The lock clicked.
Haru pushed it open.
And stopped.
His entire body went still.
His hand remained wrapped around the door handle.
For several seconds, he didn't breathe.
His heart seemed to fall somewhere beneath his ribs.