FITDSLR | Chapter 2

Someone suddenly let out a short, startled squeak, making a scene.

The other contestants looked up in confusion, as if an exotic bird had just flown past. Was that even a human sound? Thanks to the lighthearted reaction, even Gyeol managed to laugh along and brush the moment off.

The conversation quickly shifted to life on Pheromone Island.

“So, how are we handling meals?”

“With this many people, it’s probably best to cook together at first. Once we get used to it, we can assign rotating shifts.”

“Wow, this already sounds fun. Let’s all get along well.”

One after another, they chimed in, quickly organizing cooking duties and easing into small talk.

“Anyone good at cooking?”

“I’m confident when it comes to eating, at least.”

“Isn’t Tommy a mukbang YouTuber? Don’t you usually eat like five servings alone?”

“Huh? How did you know that?”

“I’ve actually been subscribed to your channel for a long time. I’m one of your ‘Potato Roast’ fans.”

“Your fandom name is Potato Roast? That’s so cute.”

Warm laughter spread through the group. As expected from a season filled with broadcasters and entertainers, the atmosphere was lively and easygoing.

Among them, Shin Juno stood out as a natural mood maker. Whenever the conversation began to die down, he skillfully introduced a new topic, keeping the flow going effortlessly. Even the production staff seemed satisfied.

Watching him, Gyeol clenched his teeth.

He maintained a smile on the surface, but his chest felt like it was shaking from the inside out.

I missed you.

What the hell are you doing, Shin Juno?

You don’t get to say something like that to me.

Of all people, Shin Juno absolutely should not have said that.

Feeling his heart churn unpleasantly, Gyeol forcefully pushed the memories away. Now wasn’t the time to lose composure—he needed focus. He needed his poker face.

After introductions, the contestants moved to their accommodation.

The lodging consisted of bungalow-style rooms shared in pairs. Gyeol began considering which Omega roommate would be most advantageous.

In terms of exposure, idol Kang Heejoon was clearly the strongest choice. Living with him would guarantee screen time, but there was also the risk of being overshadowed.

Then—

“Gyeol-ssi, let’s share a room.”

Actress Yoon Isu suddenly cut into his thoughts.

She was the contestant who had earlier asked whether Gyeol and Shin Juno already knew each other.

“Actually… I used to be a fan of Save Me. So I was hoping I could room with you. Is that okay?”

“Oh—yes, of course.”

It was unexpected, but Gyeol nodded easily.

“I even went to your fan meeting before. And a signing event.”

“Really?”

Being a fan of SAVE ME was believable enough. Anyone could say that.

But attending a fan meeting was unusual. SAVE ME had been a failing idol group whose events rarely even filled the minimum attendance. Gyeol remembered the faces of most fans who had come back then.

Yet he didn’t recall her at all.

“Can we show the footage here? Like this.”

Yoon Isu smiled sweetly, drawing a rectangle in the air with her finger. A signed album she claimed to have received seemed to appear on screen in his imagination.

“So you were really a fan.”

“Yes. I was so disappointed when you disbanded. And now we meet like this… it feels like a dream.”

With a face like hers, it would be hard to forget her…

After a moment of thought, Gyeol dismissed the concern. If he truly didn’t remember, it would be rude to insist otherwise.

Smiling politely, he offered something in return.

“I actually watched your drama too, Isu-ssi.”

“Really?”

“Yes. That recent Netflix thriller… The Death of Solitude, right?”

“That’s right! Wow, this is embarrassing… to have someone I admire watching my work…”

Her cheeks flushed slightly as she fanned herself, clearly genuine in her reaction.

Someone I admire.

An unfamiliar phrase—but strangely pleasant.

“Gyeol-ssi, go in first,” she said.

“Oh, thank you.”

With a good feeling about it, Gyeol stepped into the room she had opened for him.

Isu lingered outside for a moment after letting him in. Her gaze drifted into the distance.

Far away, Shin Juno was walking with a group of Alphas, talking casually.

She watched him quietly until he entered the farthest bungalow on the island.

“Isu-ssi, aren’t you coming in?”

Gyeol’s voice called from inside.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

Only after confirming Shin Juno’s room did Isu turn away with a soft smile and step inside.

—

“All contestants, please change into swimwear and gather on the beach.”

The contestants lined up at the shore: four Omegas and four Alphas.

The Omegas wore loose shorts, rash guards, or light cover-ups, while the Alphas stood bare-chested under the blazing sun.

“I don’t even know where to look,” Isu whispered to Gyeol.

She wasn’t wrong. Under the harsh sunlight, the Alphas’ sculpted bodies gleamed vividly.

But Gyeol wasn’t paying attention to that.

Based on past-season data, swimsuit gatherings almost always meant physical games were coming.

Al×O Connect was a competitive dating program where winning granted advantages.

So his goal was simple.

First place.

He had to control the flow from the very beginning.

—

“Welcome, Alphas and Omegas of Pheromone Island.”

“Now we will begin the first program of Day 1.”

Gulp.

Gyeol swallowed dryly, clenching his fist to steady his nerves.

But then—

“Before that.”

“Ah?”

The contestants, expecting the game to start immediately, groaned in disappointment. Even Gyeol felt the same.

“We will introduce the most important person of Al×O Connect Season 10.”

“The most important person?”

“That’s a thing?”

Murmurs spread through the group. This had never happened in previous seasons.

Before confusion could settle, the announcement continued.

“Actor Seo Yohan.”

A stunned gasp echoed somewhere in the crowd.

“Wait… seriously?”

“This isn’t hidden camera, right?”

And then he appeared.

Seo Yohan.

He was even more overwhelming in person than on screen—every feature so perfect it felt unreal.

Standing at 190 cm with an extreme Alpha presence, he looked even taller due to his proportions. Broad shoulders, long straight limbs—he didn’t look entirely human.

“Hello, I’m actor Seo Yohan.”

His breathtaking face curved into a composed smile.

His deep-set eyes, sharp nose bridge, and perfectly carved features gave him an almost divine aura. His pale irises shimmered under the sunlight, making him look otherworldly.

“I will be participating in Season 10 of Al×O Connect as a co-producer and panelist.”

Cheers erupted around him.

Only Gyeol froze completely.

His hands trembled slightly under the table of his control. Their eyes might have met—just for a moment.

Something long-buried scraped across his memory.

An idol? No… a failed idol, wasn’t it?

Why.

Why does he look like that?

Why is that bastard here?

“Thank you for having me.”

Seo Yohan.

There wasn’t a single person in Korea who didn’t know him.

From his screen debut as a lead actor, he had drawn ten million viewers overnight, becoming a legend in Korean cinema. His first film was even invited to the Cannes Film Festival, earning him Best New Actor and launching him into global stardom.

His acting, described as “possessed,” captivated audiences beyond his striking looks.

Five films surpassing ten million viewers. The most invitations from Cannes and major American film festivals for an Asian actor. Endless Hollywood offers…

All achieved within just seven years.

Recently, he had been cast as the lead in a Hollywood blockbuster, with reports of his fee skyrocketing.

And now—he was here.

As a co-producer of a dating show.

“So we’ll be seeing you often?”

“Yes. As co-producer, I’ll be present throughout filming.”

“Please give me an autograph later!”

“I’ll see you during break.”

Seo Yohan answered each excited contestant politely, graceful and warm without a trace of arrogance, just as rumors said.

“Wow, Seo Yohan-sunbae seems really kind,” someone said.

“…Yeah,” Gyeol replied absently.

But inside, his thoughts ran in the opposite direction.

He wanted to run.

His mouth felt dry. He forced his expression to stay steady for the cameras.

This wasn’t a film set. Seo Yohan had no reason to judge him here.

Just as he tried to steady his gaze—

Their eyes met.

It felt like the ground flipped over.

—

“Let the game begin.”

“First event: Alpha group match.”