[Exclusive] Ryu Seon-jae of Potato Pancakes to hold private wedding today with non-celebrity sa-age girlfriend of 8 years!
[Full article] Idol singer Ryu Seon-jae, a mber of Potato Pancakes, is getting married. Before making an official announcent through his agency, Ryu Seon-jae personally delivered the news by posting a handwritten letter on Potato Pancakes’ official social dia. The bride is a non-celebrity of the sa age, reportedly soone he has known since high school. Rumor has it that Potato Pancakes will sing the congratulatory song, and fellow mber Baek In-hyeok will host the ceremony. The wedding will be a small gathering with only close family invited, and will be held privately in consideration of the non-celebrity bride.
The article was out. Seon-jae’s marriage had been officially announced. Since he had already posted the news in a handwritten letter on SNS, fans knew even before the article dropped. And truthfully, his dating was already treated as a foregone conclusion, so there weren’t many fans who seed surprised by the wedding.
“This shouldn’t be making this nervous.”
It wasn’t like we were getting married right this second—it was just the announcent. And yet, every ti I refreshed the page and saw articles piling up with words like ‘non-celebrity,’ ‘bride-to-be,’ and ‘sa-age friend’ used to refer to , I felt so tense I could hardly speak.
I was in the middle of finishing leftover chicken from yesterday, but my stomach felt unsettled ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) like I was going to get indigestion.
“Ah, this isn’t the ti to be eating chicken.”
I cleaned the table, finished the recycling, and went into my room to lie down on the bed.
A few seconds after lying down, I picked up my phone and reopened the browser I had just closed.
Then, for no real reason, I typed Seon-jae’s na with slightly trembling fingers. As soon as I searched, I saw even more articles and posts than before.
I was the one who got curious and searched, but I didn’t even read the articles—I just skimd the headlines. The titles were all variations on the sa thing, with different pictures of Seon-jae attached.
Holding my phone like that, I kept finding myself staring at Seon-jae’s wedding news. Nothing had actually happened, and yet a million worries were flooding my head—it didn’t feel good for my ntal health.
“Ugh, I need to stop looking. This isn’t good.”
I shoved my phone under the pillow and went out to the living room to turn on the TV. If I didn’t rein myself in like this, I felt like I’d spiral into an unhealthy state.
It wasn’t like my na had been revealed, or my photo was floating around online. But for so reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and my heart felt so heavy.
It suddenly struck as strange and a little unbelievable that Seon-jae, who in so many ways felt so similar to , was soone who stood before the public.
I picked up the remote and flipped through channels. Music shows, dramas, variety programs... I finally stopped on a docuntary.
“I’ll watch this.”
I set the remote down and lay back on the sofa.
It was a docuntary about Antarctica’s ecosystem. I watched the sea creatures that live there, and when they showed the lting glaciers, I cried a little.
I looked up carbon emission reduction while watching penguins stranded on broken ice shelves. As the docuntary neared its end, I drifted off into a light sleep.
Whether it was a nap or just dozing off, I was jolted awake by the sudden sound of the door lock being pressed.
“......Huh.”
Instinctively, I grabbed the remote that had fallen on the floor like a weapon and looked toward the front door—Seon-jae was walking in.
“Seon-jae?”
He stood in the entryway, looking at with a dark expression.
“You were ho.”
“Yeah. You didn’t say you were coming.”
I put down the remote and adjusted how I was sitting.
“You weren’t picking up.”
He took off his shoes and ca in, flopping weakly onto the sofa. He leaned his head back, exhaled, then looked down at with a resentful face.
“I always tell you this, but you always ignore .”
“I don’t always ignore you. That’s not fair.”
“Where’s your phone?”
I stared at him blankly and nodded toward the bedroom. He turned his head in that direction and let out a small sigh.
“Do you know how many tis I called you?”
“I know, but when I had my phone with , I ended up refreshing the news every minute. I got tired, so I just put it away...”
I mumbled an excuse and lowered my eyes.
There was one thing that hadn’t changed between us even after all this ti—I was still afraid of Seon-jae getting hurt, and he was still afraid of disappearing. That’s why he always grew anxious when he couldn’t reach or didn’t know where I was.
“You never think about how I feel.”
“What are you talking about? There’s never a day I don’t think about you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Seriously? Do you really not trust the feelings of soone you’re going to spend the rest of your life with?”
Seon-jae’s expression softened just a bit.
“I don’t know. I must be a bottomless jar. I always want more reassurance.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at what he said. When I did, Seon-jae glanced over at .
“What are you laughing at?”
“You’re cute.”
I grinned with my lips still closed. Seon-jae, still leaning against the couch, stared at in silence. Then he finally spoke, a little late.
“I wish we could start living together soon.”
As he said that, he took my hand and fidgeted with it, then slid down and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head on . His head gently pressed against my cheek as it leaned on my shoulder, and a pleasant scent washed over .
I stroked his back and buried my nose in his hair. I sniffed, and Seon-jae lifted his head and looked at .
“You’re not hungry, right? Why are you slling ?”
“Seon-jae, what shampoo do you use? Is it expensive? You sll really good.”
The conversation veered unexpectedly into shampoo territory, and Seon-jae chuckled like he couldn’t believe it.
“You like it?”
“Yeah.”
“What body lotion do you use? I’ve been aning to ask since earlier.”
Following the thread of the conversation, Seon-jae asked while pressing his nose against my neck and sniffing, like he wanted to sll too. At the sa ti, his hand slid under my T-shirt. His cold hand touched my waist, and I reflexively pushed him away—my hand ended up smacking his cheek instead.
“Ah!”
There was a dull thud, followed by Seon-jae wincing.
“Oh no! I’m sorry!”
I cupped his cheek in alarm. I was so startled I dropped to my knees without realizing it.
Kneeling in front of him, I pressed on his cheek in case it swelled, my face twisted in guilt.
“You just hit , didn’t you.”
“No, it’s because your hand was so cold... I’m sorry.”
“My hand was cold?”
“Yeah. And also, it suddenly touched bare skin, so it tickled.”
“That sounded intentional. Like you were waiting for a chance to smack .”
“Hey, that’s not true!”
Seon-jae stared at and then suddenly kissed .
“It really hurts, though.”
“I’m sorry.”
I lowered my hand and checked his cheek. I’d hit him pretty hard, but thankfully there was no handprint.
Still staring at , Seon-jae kissed again. Huh? I furrowed my brow at the strange feeling.
“Sol.”
“Yeah?”
“Your lips taste familiar.”
Right—before watching that docuntary on Antarctic sea creatures, before the recycling—I thought about what I’d eaten.
It wasn’t anything serious, but Seon-jae was laughing like it was the funniest thing ever, and my face turned red.
“Hey...”
“This is what we ate yesterday, right?”
“I don’t know. Shut up.”
I quickly kissed him to shut him up, and Seon-jae laughed while slowly pressing his lips back against mine.
The scent of him filled my nose, and his body warmth touched mine. This mont made happy.
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