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← Your Voice, My Only Outtake

Ep. 8

The Mark at 1:41

2026-06-22

Cast: Siwon

1:30 a.m. A table that couldn't sleep either.

A voice message. Two minutes, seven seconds.

If I listen, I don't think I can take it back.

Ah— just leave it there. I'll end up taking care of it again anyway.

I'm scared because I think I already know.

Ah, don't worry about it. You can throw it away.

You said I could throw it away. So why are you taking it?

If I finish it, I won't be able to sleep again.

Looks like you might actually listen today.

Whose voice— the thought never finishes.

What do you mean? Never mind if you don't get it.

Hey, hyung, wait— just the setup, one sec.

From the moment our eyes met to when they pulled apart— the same gap as last night.

Enough to make me wonder— is that really them?

That 'understood' just now was way too sweet. That character's supposed to be a villain.

Sounds like you've never heard of a villain with a gentle side. If a villain is kind, they're just an ordinary person.

Isn't making an ordinary person scary exactly what acting is, senior?

You really can't pull off 'senior' at all. Making it work is my goal.

A page I don't need to read. Somewhere to rest my eyes.

The mouth that answers Sera in an instant — stumbles in front of me.

Scene 12. First tears before the late mentor.

Teacher, I think I can manage on my own now……

The first crack to slip through in fifteen years.

That bastard's never had a crack in him before.

The face that's there when the mask comes off.

This time, those eyes weren't saying 'again.'

Two lines he's never once finished in his own voice.

You can toss it — I'll take it. That paper.

Stepping away from the console for a sec.

That's the first crack out of him in fifteen years.

The space where all sound beyond the soundproof walls had gone silent.

Not the paper — fingertips touched first.

My head says back off, but my hand won't let go.

I was counting the spaces between his breaths.

My pulse beats at my fingertips before it ever reaches my head.

The next project schedule — can't push it back any further.

Someone I always watched has decided not to look anymore.

The mic is on. Everything's being recorded.

The moment just before we touch is more vivid than the touch itself.

That voice message — from that day. Did you listen to it?

...I saw the message. The texture of it — I kept to myself.

Not the text. The voice message. Somewhere in those 2 minutes and 7 seconds —

The part where I said you could throw me away in under a minute —

Why are you taking it? You said I could throw it away.

It's fine to throw it away... I just couldn't watch you do it.

It wasn't my phone. It was my heartbeat.

The one who always stepped back first... stepped forward.

That pause — where words almost formed, but never did.

Contract reply by tomorrow. No more delays.

That refusal to look — it rang the loudest.

You said your voice never cracked once. Yeah.