Mom?
That was a close one. Zeno almost did a roundhouse kick on her. To be fair, his ‘mom’ didn’t resemble him at all. She was quite short, around 5’2″, yet she stared at Zeno as if she were eight feet tall. Their similarities were hardly striking; it seemed he had inherited his looks from his dad. Just then, a man even shorter than his mom emerged from the restroom, wiping his hands on his dark-wash jeans.
“Oh, son. You’re here?”
He definitely hadn’t inherited his looks from this guy either. It must be the dead dad his friends had mentioned on his first day as Zeno. He looked down at the two of them—both a foot shorter than him.
Zeno pursed his lips and scratched the back of his head. It still ached, a reminder that his mom had done a number on him. Just how heavy was her hand?
“Seriously,” his mom sighed, glaring at him. “You raise a child and support them in going to Seoul. They go into the military for two whole years and barely visit. He promises he’ll come home as soon as he’s discharged, but then you see him on TV, being criticized by a group of enthusiastic fans because he’s become the main character of a very famous novel?”
Zeno raised his eyebrows—well, that was a pretty nice summary.
Meanwhile, his stepdad merely smiled, appearing like there was nothing in his brain but the guts of the fish he caught everyday. “I’m proud of you, son. I’ve been looking through the preview photos, and you look great in them.”
Zeno merely nodded. He hadn’t even had a chance to catch up on the world or see the photos. They were, in fact, in a place with no Wi-Fi and very slow data.
Just then, his door swung open, revealing his friends with trays of food in their hands.
Minji’s eyes widened; Doha looked on the verge of fainting, while Eli attempted to hide a massive chocolate cake behind his back, but failed.
Maxie broke free from Doha’s loose hold and jumped at Zeno’s feet once—just once—before flopping onto her bed, acting as if nothing had happened. A small smile crept onto Zeno’s lips. They had tried to surprise him, but it seemed they were the ones who ended up surprised, after all.
“Mom, Dad?” Minji began in a daze before shaking her head, realizing what she had said, cheeks red. “I mean, Auntie, Uncle. You stopped by?”
“Yes,” Zeno’s mom replied, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “How could I not visit when my son decided he would become an actor after insisting he only wanted to be a civil worker? Imagine my shock when your siblings told me you had become a hated prince.”
“Oh, honey, let him be,” his stepdad said, patting her shoulder gently.
Zeno tilted his head, unsure if his mom was against his profession.
She turned away slightly. “I’m not mad about his decision. I’m just disappointed he left us in the dark about it.”
Zeno let out a quiet sigh of relief. Just then, the alarm he had set blared through his phone speakers, signaling it was time to leave, even if it would disappoint his parents and friends.
“I need to go,” Zeno said, causing them all to turn to him with wide eyes.
“What? You just got back!” Eli exclaimed, revealing a cake that bore wobbly text stating, ‘Welcome to the Back.’ Zeno assumed this was the reason for the delay in the surprise party.
“I have some scenes set in the city,” Zeno replied. “The drama is airing in two weeks, and we’re just getting started.”
“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Eli muttered. Zeno pursed his lips. His body felt worse than usual, but it wasn’t unmanageable. Sure, he was tired, but he was also holding onto his stamina boosters for a reason.
“I really have to go,” Zeno insisted, glancing at his parents and giving them a small, reassuring smile.
“I’ll be back by late evening,” he added. “Just sleep on my bed. I’ll crash at Doha’s and be free tomorrow, so let’s talk then.”
The way he said it left no room for argument. With that, Zeno knelt slightly to ruffle Maxie’s hair.
“I know you miss me,” he teased, earning a bark in reply.
He chuckled and shook his head before heading out, snatching a fried chicken leg from one of the food trays as he trudged down the stairs. Though he hadn’t had the chance to shower since leaving the filming site, he felt refreshed enough.
He knocked on the window of Moby’s truck, causing the latter to jolt.
“You’re done?” Moby mumbled, opening the car door and wiping dried saliva off his sleeve.
Then, he glanced at the time. “Goodness, we need to go.”
He quickly started the car but couldn’t resist glancing at Zeno. “You look good. The shower must have been refreshing.”
Zeno smirked, crossing his arms. He must have looked fresh from the shower, huh?
“You look tired,” Moby observed, concern creeping into his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” Zeno replied without hesitation. “That word—tired—is the embodiment of the modern Hajin’s character.”
Moby fell silent for a moment before clapping slowly when they hit a red light.
“A genius! You’re a true genius,” he said, amused. “No wonder Daeshim PD loves you despite the hate you’re currently facing.”
“Is it bad?” Zeno asked, not out of concern but curiosity.
Moby shrugged. “It’s not terrible, in my opinion. But then again, my definition of bad is literally getting eggs thrown at me in public.”
“You know how it is with this adaptation. Most people already have a dream cast in their minds; if that vision isn’t fulfilled, they take it out on the current cast. It’s how they feel better about themselves,” he added with a smirk.
Zeno matched his expression momentarily, yet a nagging voice still whispered in the back of his mind.
The cause of it was none other than his new set of missions.
[Deadline: Two weeks.
1. Stay safe.
2. Deflate the hate you are currently receiving.]