Page 64 of From Paris to Seoul

“Ah… how about your preparations for Japan?” I asked, avoiding the real question lingering between us.

He took a sip of his coffee before nodding. “Going well. My visa’s issued. I started packing, and I’ll be shipping some of my stuff over soon.”

He said it casually, like it was nothing. But something in the way he spoke made me wonder if he was waiting—hoping—that I’d give him an answer before he left.

Under the table, he took my hand and gave me a small smile. “Seo-yeon, whatever happens in the next six months, I want to try with you. I want to give my all to this. I just want you to know that whatever decision you make, we can make this work.”

His words touched me, and I couldn’t find the right words to reply. So instead, I just squeezed his hand back.

I really don’t want him to go.

“I might not be able to reply to your texts right away… The PD said the schedule is going to be packed, especially with all the outdoor action scenes. But I promise, I’ll text and call you as much as I can.”

He watched me, waiting. I felt the weight of his words, the quiet hope in his voice.

I swirled my coffee, stalling for time. Then, with a small smile, I looked up and said, “You know, I still can’t believe you’re actually leaving. Have you figured out where you’ll be staying in Japan yet?”

Baekhyun studied me for a second, as if trying to decide whether to push for a real answer. But then, he let out a quiet chuckle, knowing exactly that I was dodging the real question.

I just raised a brow, waiting for him to answer. He sighed, playing along. “Yeah, the film crew helped me find a place in Fukuoka. Nothing fancy, but practical. I might have to travel to rural areas sometimes, so I’ll probably be staying in rental lodgings or whatever the production team arranges.”

The conversation shifted, but the unspoken questions still lingered between us.

***

Back home, I had to deal with my own family. And unsurprisingly, it didn’t go well.

“So, what’s your plan? You’ve been cooped up at home all day, playing the piano… it’s been months,” my mom sighed over dinner from across the table.

I exhaled, already exhausted before the argument had even fully started. “Can you just give me a little space—”

“And you’re not with Min-seok anymore, are you?” she cut me off. “Fine. That’s your choice. But what now?”

My dad, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “Your mom’s right, Seo-yeon. You’re not getting any younger. And you too, Yae-rin. I have a friend whose son—”

“Why am I being dragged into this?” Yae-rin protested mid-bite.

“Actually, yes.” My mom looked dead serious. “Mr. Kang’s younger son just got back from the States—”

“Oh my god,” I groaned. “Please, stop talking.”

Everyone at the table froze, staring at me, mouths slightly open. I had always been the obedient child—the one who never caused trouble, the one who rarely spoke up or raised her voice. Tonight, I must’ve seemed completely out of character for them.

“Seo-yeon… you…” My mom looked so stunned she couldn’t even finish her sentence.

“I don’t want to date anyone, okay? Did you ever think about that, Mom? Have you even once asked me how I feel?”

They continued to stare at me like I had suddenly sprouted two heads. But the dam had been broken. I’d been quiet for far too long.

Then my mom squinted her eyes, as if sensing something. “Ah,” she said, as if she had a sudden realization. “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

I took a deep breath, trying to summon patience, but the thread was getting too thin. I felt like I was about to burst. I wanted to scream, yell at the top of my lungs.

Yae-rin set her spoon down with a sharp clink. “Mom, Dad, come on. Just let her be.”

I turned to look at her, feeling a rush of gratitude. Even though she was practically groomed to take over the family business while I was off chasing my dreams, she always had my back.

But my mom wasn’t having it. “And you think you’re any better?” Mom retorted at Yae-rin before turning to me. “Who is this guy?”

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