First Drive

Dinner wound down slowly, plates cleared, laughter fading into soft background music.

Kim Ji Won was halfway through helping her mother stand when her father suddenly spoke.

“Ji Hoon-ah.”

Park Ji Hoon looked up. “Yes, Uncle?”

“It’s late,” Mr. Kim said. “Could you send Ji Won and So Bin home? The roads will be busy tonight.”

Ji Won opened her mouth to refuse out of habit, but her father was already looking at her knowingly.

She hesitated, then nodded. “That’s okay.”

Ji Hoon glanced at his manager, who gave a small shrug.

“I’ll ride with you,” the manager said. “We’re heading the same way.”

And just like that, the decision was made.

Outside, the night air was cool, the wedding venue glowing softly behind them.

Kim So Bin walked a step ahead, scrolling through his phone, leaving Ji Won and Ji Hoon to fall into an easy, unplanned rhythm.

The car ride began with light conversation.

“So Bin,” Ji Hoon said from the front seat, turning slightly, “I heard you’re studying film?”

So Bin brightened immediately. “Yes! Directing, hopefully. I grew up watching your dramas.”

Ji Hoon smiled. “Then don’t watch them too carefully. It’ll ruin the magic.”

Everyone laughed even Ji Won.

The conversation drifted naturally from favorite films to the reality of the industry.

Ji Hoon spoke honestly, without glamour, about long shoots and pressure. Ji Won talked about design deadlines, about how creativity sometimes felt like survival.

“People think weddings are all romance,” Ji Won said softly. “They don’t see the work behind them.”

Ji Hoon nodded.

“People think acting is all applause. They don’t see the silence after.”

That quiet understanding settled between them again.

At a red light, Ji Hoon glanced at Ji Won through the rearview mirror. “Your father and mine used to be inseparable,” he said.

“I remember him teaching me how to ride a bike.”

Ji Won’s eyes softened. “He still talks about that summer. He says you were stubborn.”

Ji Hoon chuckled. “I fell five times before I got it right.”

The memory shifted the tone lighter, nostalgic.

“So Bin,” Ji Won said teasingly, “remember when we moved to Busan because of Appa's work?”

So Bin nodded. “The house felt… empty.”

Ji Won’s voice lowered. “Everything changed after that.”

Ji Hoon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

“It was the same for us,” he admitted. “When our families stopped seeing each other… when my father left for another city… it felt like the world split in two.”

No one interrupted him.

“You grow up faster,” Ji Hoon continued.

“You learn how to pretend things don’t hurt.”

Ji Won looked at him then not as Park Ji Hoon the actor but as someone who had carried loss quietly for years.

“That’s why you’re so careful,” she said.

He glanced at her, surprised.

“Not cold,” she added gently. “Just careful.”

The car slowed in front of their apartment.

So Bin stepped out first, stretching. “Thank you for the ride, hyung.”

Ji Won lingered for a moment.

“Thank you,” she said to Ji Hoon. “For tonight. For listening.”

He met her gaze, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. “Thank you for taking us to home.”