All My Firsts Are You (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15

I tapped on the email. My eyes followed the message, written in just three short lines.

[I’m right outside your broadcasting station now—come out as soon as you read this.

Director Kang said I could take you anytime he needs you.

Guess you don’t really have much to do there, huh?]

I didn’t even have time to dwell on the last line, which mocked me by implying I had nothing to do. My entire focus was fixated on Jun’s words: he was already outside the station and wanted me to come out immediately. I quickly checked the time he’d sent the email—4:50 PM. Over thirty minutes had already passed.

He hadn’t said he was *on his way* to the station—he said he was *already* there and waiting. My heart grew impatient.

“PD!”

I shot my right arm straight up beside my ear, as if making some grand announcement. My worry for you, who might still be waiting downstairs, overrode any embarrassment.

“PD, I’m really sorry, but Director Kim just returned from overseas and urgently needs me right away. He said he’s working on the script and absolutely needs me by his side to help right now…”

Truthfully, I’d embellished Jun’s words just a little. I’d changed his original message—“Come out as soon as you read this. Guess you don’t really have much to do there, huh?”—into something more diplomatic like “He desperately needs my help with the script.” But it wasn’t a complete fabrication, so it should be fine.

“Really? Then go quickly! There’s no time to waste—hurry up and go!”

Director Kang, who had a fairly imposing build, waved his arm vigorously in the air to shoo me off, which felt slightly intimidating. I hesitated for just a moment before quickly getting up from my seat.

“Jung Eun, Hyun Su—I’m sorry, I’ve got to go first.”

“What are you sorry for? Look at PD Kang—even he’s acting like something terrible will happen if you don’t leave right now!”

I gave Jung Eun, who was teasing me playfully, a quick smile and rushed out, practically sprinting toward the elevator after flinging open the conference room door. Inside the elevator, I hurriedly typed a reply to Jun.

[Sorry—I just saw your email. I’m heading down right now. Are you still waiting?]

I watched the floor numbers on the elevator panel shrink. Out of nervousness, I kept lifting and lowering my heels, as if that would somehow make the elevator descend faster—which, of course, it didn’t.

Not long after, my phone vibrated in my hand. A notification for a new email—just sent by Jun—appeared at the top of the screen. I pressed and held it to reveal a very brief message.

[Yeah. Hurry up.]

No complaints, no scolding about why I was only coming now—just a simple “Hurry up.” Unconsciously, a small smile crept onto my lips.

Then, suddenly, I wondered.

Among the few boyfriends I’d dated before, had I ever dashed out with this much excitement when any of them showed up at my broadcasting station?

Back then, I’d usually invent sudden overtime work—even if there wasn’t any—just to avoid meeting them when they came to pick me up. And even on those rare occasions when I reluctantly left the office because they insisted they’d wait right outside, I’d sigh deeply as if the ground itself was collapsing beneath me, dragging my heavy feet as though they refused to lift from the floor.

Just as Jung Eun had said—it felt less like dating and more like unwanted overtime.

The only difference between then and now was that the person waiting for me today was Jun. That alone was enough to quicken my pace. It sounded unbelievable, but it was true.

The emotion making my steps feel lighter was unmistakably excitement.

*Sigh… Ha Ru, get a hold of yourself…*

My sigh sank heavily to the floor. At that exact moment, the elevator finally reached the first floor. As soon as the doors opened, I bolted out like a spring uncoiling. The first floor of the broadcasting station was packed—during this special exhibition period, artworks lined the walls, and the lobby was filled with visitors admiring them along with people heading to the café on one side.

It had become a kind of informal meeting spot, which meant I had to frantically scan the crowd to find Jun.

He had to be on the first floor somewhere.

My impatient worry gradually twisted my face into a sullen frown—until suddenly, something was gently placed over my head. The bright lights overhead were dimmed as a soft shadow fell over my vision.

Instinctively, I reached up toward whatever had been placed on my head and turned around. Right in front of me stood a man.

It was Jun.

Wearing a white baseball cap, a plain white T-shirt, and jeans, Jun stood there smiling as he looked at me.

“…Huh?”

Seeing me fiddle with the cap on my head, eyes wide in surprise, Jun’s lips curled slightly upward, as if he knew exactly what I wanted to say.

“Turns out my face is surprisingly well-known in Korea too. I didn’t want anyone else getting into trouble besides you. Let’s go.”

His handsome face—still unmistakable even under the cap—gazed directly at me, and I immediately felt my cheeks flush. I quickly tugged the brim of the cap down low over my eyes.

“Why cover your face when we haven’t seen each other in so long?”

Apparently dissatisfied with how deeply I’d pulled the brim down, Jun readjusted the cap so my face was clearly visible again.

“If you’re just going to hide your face like that, what’s the point of wearing the cap?”

Afraid he’d notice how red my cheeks had gotten, I pouted slightly in protest—though it wasn’t really a serious complaint. Jun just chuckled softly, as if agreeing with me.

I reached up again to pull the brim back down—but in that split second, Jun caught it in his hand. Then, he pressed the brim of my cap firmly against his own forehead.

I involuntarily gasped at his sudden move, but Jun paid no attention to my reaction.

From that impossibly close distance—so close it felt almost overwhelming—his steady gaze bore into me intently.

“What—what are you doing? Why are you acting like this?”

“…What does it look like I’m doing to you?”

It had been so long since I’d seen Jun’s face this closely that my heart, unprepared for the sudden rush, began pounding wildly.

“I really missed you…”

Jun bit his lip, then let out a short breath. Unable to speak or swallow my words, I could only look at him with uncertain eyes.

“You really… are hopeless.”

Before I could even ask what he meant by that, Jun squinted one eye slightly, then quickly lowered his head—as if trying to hide his face in a hurry—and yanked the brim of my cap sharply downward.

He stepped back a pace away from me.

I hastily looked up, but Jun turned around swiftly, not giving me a chance to catch even a glimpse of his expression. Then, pulling the white cap even lower over his eyes, he started walking ahead.

“Ha Ru, let’s go. I’ve got a taxi waiting at the back entrance.”

I stood still for a moment, watching his retreating figure—then quickly followed after him.

Even inside the moving taxi, Jun remained silent for a long while.

Leaning back quietly in his seat, he turned his head toward the window and stared out at the city scenery flashing past. Suddenly, I remembered how he’d looked just moments ago—holding the brim of my cap, his expression so sorrowful he seemed on the verge of tears.

I replayed that scene slowly in my mind.

I couldn’t quite grasp what Jun was feeling. His cold expression and tone from that first meeting in Japan—after nine long years—were still vivid in my memory.

Yet just now, you’d looked at me with such longing in your eyes, biting your lip as if overwhelmed by emotions you’d kept buried all this time…

A faint, reckless hope began to settle softly in a quiet corner of my heart. This kind of hope always reshaped what came after the word “maybe” into something wishful.

Maybe… you don’t actually hate me.

Maybe… you’ve missed me from time to time.

So perhaps… even amidst all the resentment that used to instantly fill your heart whenever you thought of me, there was still a tiny bit of longing left for me.

Maybe… you still like me even now…

*What on earth am I imagining?* Flustered, I shook my head sharply. How could I possibly think such a thing? The same person who once told me outright that they wanted to hate me freely—how could they possibly harbor such feelings?

My embarrassment shifted into self-directed frustration. I bit my lip hard.

I sensed movement beside me. Still blushing from my earlier thoughts, I turned to look at Jun—afraid he’d notice my shame—so I spoke first to hide it.

“Did you just arrive in Korea today?”

“Yeah.”

My carefully chosen, ordinary question received an even more ordinary—and extremely brief—reply. His voice sounded tired, low and weary.

“Oh… But you came to meet me right away. You must be really exhausted.”

“My schedule’s tight, so I didn’t have a choice.”

“Ah, right. That makes sense…”

His curt answer left me struggling to find the next words, which just kept circling uselessly in my mouth.

“So… you’ve been really busy lately, then?”

“If someone would just finish writing the script on time, it’d be manageable.”

As if already exhausted just thinking about the script, Jun shifted slightly in his seat, lifting his back off the headrest for a moment.

After all, he’d mentioned that this sudden, unplanned trip to Korea had completely disrupted his already packed schedule, leaving him with no breathing room.

Although Jun had spoken about it as if it were nothing, he might have actually been pushing himself to the brink all this time.

Now that I looked closely, his face—calm and eyes closed—seemed drier and more worn than the last time we’d met. Seeing him so clearly tired and worn out from travel, I felt an unexpected pang of sympathy.

Startled by the sudden swell of sadness welling up inside me, I quickly turned my gaze back out the window. Buildings with unremarkable signs passed by in a blur, matching the speed of our car like a panning shot.

For a fleeting moment, I wished our shared memories could one day be replayed just as casually—as indifferently—as those passing buildings.

When I turned my eyes back to Jun, he was already sound asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath.

He must have been truly exhausted. And yet, he’d waited outside the broadcasting station for over thirty minutes—how utterly drained he must feel.

But my tender concern didn’t last long. Soon, all those old feelings I’d briefly recalled—the words I might have spoken to a cherished lover from the past—lost their meaning and crumbled away.

Only the vivid afterimages of your behavior and words from that day in Japan remained, pressing heavily onto my chest.

My mouth felt dry, as if I hadn’t drunk anything. The bitterness seemed to grow stronger with every passing second, lingering thickly in my mouth—so much so that even when Jun half-opened his eyes a short while later, I couldn’t bring myself to say the most ordinary thing: “Did you sleep well?”