By late afternoon, Mina was convinced of three things:
1. Her family loved Minseo more than they loved her.
2. Auntie Yoo was one Bluetooth earpiece away from becoming a spy.
3. Kim Minseo was completely, irreversibly insane.
"You want to rehearse our love story?" Mina asked, staring at him like he'd grown a second perfectly styled head.
Minseo was seated cross-legged on the bed, flashcards fanned out like a game show host. "Yes. We need consistent details. Matching tone. Proper pacing."
"We already told them how we met."
"Yes," he said, "but your version involved spilled coffee and thinly veiled insults, and mine involved emotional vulnerability and a romantic late-night walk under fairy lights."
Mina blinked. "Neither of those happened."
"Which is why we need a unified narrative."
She flopped onto the opposite side of the bed. "You really don't know how to turn off, do you?"
"I do. I just don't like doing things badly."
"You're faking a relationship, not applying for grad school."
Minseo held up a flashcard. "Okay, let's begin. 'First time we said I love you.' Go."
"We haven't," Mina said flatly.
"We have—in the story."
"We fought about ramen toppings. That's what I remember."
He grinned. "We can say it happened after that fight. Makes it sweeter. Adds emotional depth."
"Minseo."
He lay back on the bed dramatically, arm thrown over his forehead like a swooning nobleman. "Fine. I'll just make it up myself. And when your aunt grills you about the exact flavor of ice cream we shared on our second date, don't blame me."
She turned her head to face him. "You are way too committed to this."
He smiled without looking at her. "You hired a professional."
"You volunteered to be a boyfriend. You didn't say it came with scripts."
"Every good relationship has scripts," he said, now sitting up again. "Even real ones. You just don't realize you're reading them."
Mina tilted her head. "That's kind of… sad."
"Why? Everyone plays roles. Daughter. Employee. Girlfriend. We just add clarity to the act."
She stared at him, trying to figure out if he actually believed that, or if he was just hiding behind it.
"So what's your real self, then?" she asked.
Minseo smiled—but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time.
"You tell me," he said. "You're the one watching."
A knock at the door interrupted them.
Mina nearly jumped. "It's probably Auntie Yoo again, pretending she needs more towels."
Minseo stood and opened the door with the same graceful warmth he showed every stranger.
But it wasn't Auntie Yoo.
It was one of her younger cousins holding a small camcorder.
"Noona," he said, grinning. "Mom wants a video of you two talking about how you fell in love. She's gonna play it at the reception tomorrow."
Mina's soul left her body.
Minseo didn't even blink. "Give us ten minutes. We'll make it a masterpiece."
The door closed.
Mina turned to him slowly. "We're going to die."
"We're going to rehearse," Minseo corrected, already adjusting the lighting in the room. "This is the real deal. Are you ready for your debut?"
Mina buried her face in a pillow. "I swear to God, if I win Best Actress at my own cousin's wedding, I'm never speaking to you again."
Minseo sat beside her, holding out another flashcard with a smirk.
It read: "Smile like you mean it."