Page 56 of From Paris to Seoul

Baekhyun groaned. “Mom, it’s fine—”

His mother ignored him. Instead, she turned to me. “Seo-yeon, do actresses eat normally, or do you all survive on air these days?”

“Uh, yes, I eat normally,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely true. My mind went blank for a moment, and I couldn’t think of a better response.

“Good. Is bibimbap okay for you? I think we have enough leftovers for that.” His mom checked the fridge, her tone casual.

I still couldn’t believe how unfazed his family was by my presence—like it was completely normal for me to be here, in their home, in the middle of the evening. As if I were just another family member visiting. If this had happened in my family, it would have caused an uproar for sure.

We took our seats at the table, watching as Baekhyun’s mom mixed together the leftover ingredients. “Well, it’s nothing fancy, but after hours on the road, we’re starving,” she said, setting the food down along with a few banchans.

For the longest time, I thought it was normal for children—no matter how old—to be at least a little afraid of their mothers. A quiet kind of fear, the kind that made you sit up straighter, mind your words, and measure every response carefully.

But sitting here, with Baekhyun’s family, I realized how different things could be.

Ye-bin talked and talked, filling the room with an easy, cheerful energy. She barely paused between bites, launching into a story about how they’d spent their days at their aunt’s house, picking apples and trying to get their little cousins to help—only to end up doing most of the work themselves.

“And then, Mom nearly fell off the ladder trying to reach the last apples—”

“I did not nearly fall,” their mom interrupted, scooping another spoonful of rice into her bowl. “The ladder was just a little… wobbly.”

Ye-bin grinned. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Baekhyun let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t leave you two anywhere.”

His mom rolled her eyes but smiled before turning her attention back to me. “What about you, Seo-yeon? Do you have any family outside of Seoul?”

The question caught me off guard. I quickly swallowed my food, hoping to steady myself.

“Uh, yeah. My grandparents live in Busan,” I said, keeping my tone light. “But everyone’s usually busy, so we don’t get together much.”

Baekhyun shot me a quick glance—subtle, but enough for me to know he wished he could steer the conversation elsewhere.

His mother hummed. “That’s a shame. No matter how busy life gets, family meals are important.”

I forced a small smile, not trusting myself to respond.

Because in my family, on the rare occasions when all four of us—Mom, Dad, my sister, and I—sat down for dinner together, the conversation was either about work, or there was no conversation at all.

But here, even the silences felt warm.

12

??

Baekhyun

I rolled my shoulders back, exhaling slowly as I glanced at the thick stack of papers in front of me. We had just wrapped up our chemistry read at the main building of the film production company.

This was one of the rare times I had the chance to work with some of the biggest names in the industry. I’d been nervous at first, but we quickly warmed up to each other, and the room soon filled with an easy, comfortable energy.

Across the table, Byung-ho sat flipping through his tablet, his expression sharp—focused, professional, and maybe just a little smug about how much work he was about to pile onto me.

“This is your schedule for the next six months,” he said, tapping the screen. “As you know, most of the filming will take place in Japan—mainly in Fukuoka and the surrounding rural areas, with a few scenic locations for key outdoor shots. You’ll be flying out in two weeks.”

Two weeks. The words barely settled in my mind before he continued.

“The shooting schedule in Japan is tight. You’ll need to adjust quickly.”

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