Chapter 89: Side Effects
by GideonThe streets were deserted, the late summer heat still clinging to the air.
The restaurant was a hidden gem Jubin had stumbled upon—a cozy sushi spot tucked away in a quiet alley, run by a single owner. It was the kind of place that required reservations on weekends, but today, they were in luck.
After being seated, Jubin and Zion found a quiet table in the farthest corner of the restaurant.
“I’ll just have whatever you recommend, sunbae.”
“Almost everything here is great, but is there anything specific you’re craving?”
“I’ll eat anything. Order a lot, please.”
Knowing Zion’s hearty appetite, Jubin ordered more than enough for two grown men—a feast that would be generous for anyone else.
“Do you usually come here alone, sunbae?”
“Yeah, I come here by myself whenever I’m in the mood.”
“It’s not a place you eat alone anymore. Since you came here with me.”
He rested his chin on his hand, gazing at her with eyes that seemed ready to give her the entire world. Jubin subtly averted her gaze as she pressed him.
“You know you flirt like it’s your second nature, right?”
“Is it too much for us?”
“…Well, I don’t hate it.”
Blushing at her own honesty, Jubin took a sip of the water served before the meal, trying to soothe her awkward feelings.
“Sunbae.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I call you Hyung?”
Zion had called her ‘Sunbae’ from the moment they first met. She had never imagined what it would be like if he called her ‘Hyung’ more familiarly.
“So suddenly?”
“Is that a no?”
“No, it’s not that I can’t… but…”
“Joo-won calls you Hyung. It makes me jealous.”
Having already allowed him into his home, Jubin felt it would be too dangerous to let their relationship progress any further—especially when it came to how they addressed each other.
“You don’t like it? Me calling you hyung?”
“No, I don’t. I prefer Sunbae.”
Knowing how much his words must have hurt, Jubin couldn’t bring himself to meet Zion’s eyes.
“Your order is ready.”
Just then, the sushi they’d ordered arrived, filling the table. Jubin pointed to the most expensive and delicious-looking piece.
“This one’s the best. Try it.”
“Ahh—”
Zion opened his mouth, waiting to be fed.
This wasn’t the first or second time this had happened. The situation was so familiar that Jubin found himself moving his chopsticks without even thinking.
“Lots of soy sauce?”
Zion nodded instead of answering. Jubin dipped the sushi into the soy sauce, which had just the right amount of wasabi mixed in, and held it out. Zion popped it into his mouth in one bite.
Jubin watched him, his heart hammering, waiting to see his reaction. Only after he saw the other man nod in satisfaction did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“This place is great. I should come here more often.”
“I’m glad you like it. Just call me whenever you’re in the mood for this.”
“Will you come eat with me?”
“Of course. Anytime.”
“So we have our own little hideout now.”
Our own little hideout. The words alone seemed to deepen the bond between them.
“Yeah. Let’s make it our spot.”
Jubin picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, dipped it lightly in the soy sauce, and popped it into his mouth.
Wait…
He had expected the fresh fish to melt on his tongue, but the taste was completely wrong.
The fragrant, salty-sweet essence of the sea he’d been anticipating was gone. All that remained was the chewy texture of the fish and the bland taste of rice.
Even the soy sauce that had seeped between the grains of rice tasted nauseating. It was so bad, Jubin wondered if the fish had gone bad in the summer heat.
“Hey…”
Jubin started, his expression grave. Zion paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Is this really good?”
“Yeah, it’s delicious. Why?”
“Are you sure it isn’t… spoiled?”
Zion looked surprised. He picked up another piece of sushi, brought it close to his nose, and sniffed it before asking with a worried frown, “Do you think the one you ate was spoiled?”
Jubin nodded, his anxiety growing.
“I’ll try it.”
“No, don’t. Just in case.”
“How will I know if I don’t try it?”
Watching him hesitate for only a second before popping another piece of sushi into his mouth without a second thought, Jubin felt a pang of guilt. Maybe I shouldn’t have suggested this place.
On a summer day like this, eating spoiled raw fish would be a nightmare. And with his first shoot coming up soon, Zion couldn’t shake the anxiety that Jubin might end up sick.
After chewing for a long moment, Zion shook his head, his expression conflicted. “The fish looks fine to me.”
“Really? Then maybe I’m the problem. I guess I just haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”
Zion hesitated, then asked tentatively, “Should we go somewhere else?”
“No way. You know how much I love the sushi here.”
As if to prove his point, Jubin popped another piece into his mouth and nodded, reassuring Zion. “The shrimp is delicious. Hurry up and eat, you.”
Zion watched him quietly for a moment before sliding the tamago roll from his own plate over to Jubin. “Here, try this.”
“If the sashimi’s too much, eat the rolled omelet,” Zion said.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Jubin chewed the omelet Zion had given him, his thoughts turning grim.
The chip’s side effects are definitely getting worse.
He’d initially dismissed the cramp during the diving scene as a result of using muscles he’d never worked before. But when he collapsed at Action School, he knew for sure.
The diving incident had been a neurological glitch. The Action School incident was a total loss of balance. And just now, while eating the sushi, he’d confirmed the worst: his sense of taste and smell were completely shot.
He’d researched the known side effects. It started with muscles and nerves, then sensory loss, and finally… emotions. He’d even read a post about severe cases spiraling into depression and mania, making daily life a living hell.
He was terrified of becoming a burden to the production.
If he removed the newly implanted chip, he knew he’d fall under Zion’s pheromones again. All he could do was pray his body would hold out until this project was finished.
It was right to refuse, he told himself. Someone like me shouldn’t be working on 「Iconic Mood」 with him. A lingering regret tugged at him, but he reaffirmed his decision.
“Sunbae.”
Jubin snapped out of his thoughts and jolted, his head jerking up.
“Huh? What’s up?”
“What are you thinking about so seriously? Can I help you with something?”
Jubin forced a casual smile. “Nah, it’s nothing.”
It’s not time to take the chip out yet.
Because I want to work with him—the man standing right in front of me—for just a little longer.
It was the final day of martial arts rehearsal before filming.
As Zion swung his arm down, following the choreography Kang Mu-hyeon had laid out, Jubin stepped aside, absorbing the impact with his forearm.
Blocking the strike head-on would have caused an injury. Instead, Jubin had to press his hand down at an angle, redirecting the force toward the floor. Only then could they achieve the desired effect: Zion’s arm falling limp as it lost its momentum.
The problem was the next sequence.
“Ugh.”
Once again, Jubin failed to redirect Zion’s force downward and was sent sprawling onto the mat.
“Sunbae!” Zion rushed over, his voice laced with concern. “Are you okay?”
Jubin forced himself up, feigning composure. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s try it again.”
Director Kang Mu-hyeon, who had been watching the scene unfold, approached. He seemed to conclude that continuing as they were was too risky.
“Should we cut down the choreography?” he asked, his tone tinged with regret.
“Should we cut back on the choreography?”
Zion seemed to be thinking the same thing. He glanced at Jubin, gauging his reaction, before finally speaking up.
“How about this instead?”
Zion suggested the self-defense move he’d taught him before—the one where you push your opponent’s chest away with all your might.
“Ah, that’s a great idea! It’s a big, visible move, so it’ll transition perfectly.” Director Kang Mu-hyeon’s face lit up with delight. “Give me a moment.” He stepped away to call Director Bae Eun-hye, asking for their patience.
Jubin chewed his lip, worried that his lack of skill was compromising the scene’s quality.
“Don’t worry,” Zion said, his fingers gently brushing through Jubin’s sweat-dampened hair. “That last move was tough for me too. Switching to the self-defense one will be easier for you, and the flow will be much smoother.”
Despite his gentle words, a lingering regret gnawed at me—the fear that I’d held the production back. I could only nod silently in response.
Lately, controlling my emotions had become an uphill battle.
The side effects were clearly taking hold. Even on an empty stomach, nausea surged through me at the mere thought of food, making it impossible to eat. Sleep disorders had also set in, leaving me unable to rest for days.
On top of all that, my moods were swinging wildly in real-time. The smallest things made me feel utterly pathetic, and the self-loathing I’d kept buried all this time began to resurface.
This feeling… it was exactly like the depression I’d faced six years ago.
The suffocating conviction that I was a failure, no matter what I tried.
I can’t let my mood dictate my behavior, I told myself. But the sinking feeling was like a wildfire, ready to erupt.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
Jubin stormed out of Action School without a second thought and collapsed in the shadows behind the building.
The humidity is fucking disgusting.
The sky was a gloomy, oppressive gray, threatening rain any moment.
Just like my mood.
Heat haze shimmered off the baking pavement, mirroring the anger seething within him. Even the fierce summer wind did nothing to cool the sweltering air.
I can’t believe I’m letting the weather get to me like this.
He knew his mood would swing wildly—soaring to a manic high before plummeting back down. His emotions were spiraling out of control, a relentless roller coaster that had him teetering on the edge of a breakdown.
“Sunbae.”
Startled, Jubin scrambled to his feet, his posture awkward and uncoordinated. He hadn’t expected Zion to follow him.
“Why did you come out here? It’s too hot.”
“I didn’t want to leave you alone.”
0 Comments