By Zephyria 
Lifting his chin and exhaling a long plume of smoke towards the sky, Yoon Joo-ho glanced down from the corner of his eye.
“The cats seem to like you.”
Cats. He had forgotten.
The kittens were still lingering around Song Hyun-soo’s sneakers. He didn’t want to appear like someone who was popular with kittens. Shifting a few steps to the side, Song Hyun-soo shrugged.
“No, not really. They just like anyone.”
“Is that so?”
Suddenly, Yoon Joo-ho’s eye level dropped significantly. Crouching down, he extended his hand, not holding the cigarette, towards the cats. The cats showed interest and approached, but hesitated and backed away, only to jump onto Song Hyun-soo’s feet again. And the shoelace-chewing game began anew. You oblivious brats, go chew on that rich guy’s shoes.
Yoon Joo-ho looked up at him, raising one eyebrow.
“They don’t come to me?”
Sitting hunched in the lot, smoking, he looked like a neighborhood thug. But with that face, a narrative suddenly attached itself. He seemed to have a difficult family background, a warm heart despite his rough words, and he might secretly visit on rainy nights, pretending not to care about cats. Of course, that was purely his own fantasy.
“It’s probably because of the cigarette smell.”
Despite his noisy inner thoughts, he replied calmly and curtly.
Yoon Joo-ho, straightening his long body with his knees extended, moved several paces away from the cats and Song Hyun-soo.
The one with the striped tail kept crying from beneath his legs. As Song Hyun-soo crouched down again to pet it, he looked up at Yoon Joo-ho’s profile. Did he move away because he was thinking of the cats? Because of the cigarette smoke?
He stood silently smoking, gazing at the dark lot where several cars were parked. A single streetlamp, lit on the opposite side of the lot, acted as a spotlight, casting dramatic shadows on his face. His expressionless, beautiful face revealed no emotion whatsoever. Not anger, defiance, sarcasm, or even arrogance.
“Sunbae-nim.”
Before he could gather his resolve, the words spilled out.
His gaze, looking down, was harsh, making him flinch, but he couldn’t back down.
“How do I avoid becoming a puppet?”
In the dim light cast by the streetlamp, Yoon Joo-ho furrowed his brow.
“The director tells me to create my own Sani, but I genuinely don’t know how.”
Yoon Joo-ho brought the cigarette to his lips and turned his head.
“As I said, I’m in no position to help.”
“If you’re in no position, then I must be in an even worse one.”
Song Hyun-soo withdrew his hand from petting the striped tail and stood up abruptly. A desperate urge surged through him to get some kind of hint from Yoon Joo-ho right then and there.
Han Joo-young, with her limited acting experience, would obviously be no help. Shin Hyo-jin was a good actress too, but Song Hyun-soo really wanted Yoon Joo-ho’s advice. He had watched actor Yoon Joo-ho’s performances for a long time and loved his acting more than anyone else’s. So much so that he listened to it every night as a lullaby.
“Ha, it’s because I’m not in a situation to take acting classes.”
“Didn’t you see earlier? I got criticized too.”
“I don’t even understand what the director is talking about.”
“He does tend to speak metaphorically.”
“Exactly!”
“Why don’t you try searching ‘acting training’ on YouTube?”
“Your own special method. You must have something like that. I’m a junior actor working on the same project, please tell me just a little.”
“…”
Yoon Joo-ho stopped smoking and stared intently at Song Hyun-soo for a moment. It was as if he were gauging how sincere he was.
Meeeow. Mrow. Kiiiyyaaaang.
The rather loud cries drew both Song Hyun-soo’s and Yoon Joo-ho’s gazes downward simultaneously.
He had felt something heavy around his legs, and the striped tail had somehow climbed up to his knees and was clinging to his pants. Unable to go further up or down, it was crying while holding onto the hem of his pants with its tiny claws.
Yoon Joo-ho hunched his shoulders and chuckled.
“Just laugh openly, Sunbae-nim.”
“You said the cats don’t follow you.”
“They don’t. They really don’t usually…”
“Then is that a form of attack?”
“…”
“Wow, scary.”
After a snort and a sarcastic remark, Song Hyun-soo glared at Yoon Joo-ho’s face, then detached the creature clinging to his knee and placed it on the ground. You guys, please cooperate. Do I have to become any more ridiculous in front of this top star?
“Song Hyun-soo-ssi.”
“…”
Yoon Joo-ho looked startled, as if a gun had been aimed at his brow. He knows my name? I thought he’d just call me ‘Hey you,’ ‘Over here,’ ‘That guy,’ ‘This guy’ until the movie ended. He slowly straightened his hunched back and met Yoon Joo-ho’s gaze.
“Have you heard that your personality isn’t suited for the entertainment industry?”
“Ah, no. This is the first time I’ve heard anything like that.”
“Your serious reaction tells me you have.”
“Tsk.”
Such a perceptive human.
There had been a few people who said such things. Some production staff who invited him for drinks and gave him free alcohol but never offered him roles. They told him his constitution wouldn’t last long in this industry, so he should find something else to do. But this was the first time he’d heard it from someone he was speaking to properly for the first time.
“Tsk? Did my ears go strange? Did I just hear a ‘tsk’ sound?”
“No, sir. How could I do that to a senior like you, who is like the heavens?”
“I’m not quite heaven, but I’ll offer some guidance.”
“…”
“Find a company first.”
A company? Out of nowhere?
It was a sudden remark. Song Hyun-soo furrowed his brow and stared blankly at Yoon Joo-ho. I just wish he’d give me acting tips.
“Because someone like you can’t survive in this industry. I’m telling you to find at least a minimal protective shield.”
“Why do you think I can’t survive?”
Yoon Joo-ho took a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke like a sigh.
“You think you’re good at social interactions, don’t you?”
“Well, that…”
“Are you confident in pleasing people, flattering them, and smiling brightly?”
“…”
“But you’re not as good as you think. It doesn’t suit your constitution.”
He shook his head and flicked off some ash.
“Then, on what grounds…!”
“It’s all revealed. Here.”
At the end of the word ‘here,’ Yoon Joo-ho stretched his arm out towards Song Hyun-soo’s face. His fingertips were almost touching. Song Hyun-soo flinched and stepped back. The back of his ear burned. It’s all revealed on my face? Really, all of it?
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Yoon Joo-ho brought the cigarette back to his lips.
“Someone like that is just prey here.”
His profile, exhaling smoke into the air, looked colder than the winter night air.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“…”
“As you said, Sunbae-nim, I don’t have a company to back me or connections, and I still have no experience. You’re not going to give me a role just because I act cool and say whatever I want, like some people.”
“…”
“Is it wrong to struggle to survive?”
Pleasing people, flattering them, forcing a smile to lighten the mood. But his inner thoughts were different… It felt like his diary had been exposed. And to the person he least wanted to expose it to. Who would want to look pathetic in front of their idol?
“Song Hyun-soo-ssi, didn’t you say you were my fan? I guess that was just lip service.”
“I am a fan.”
“Wow, that’s a relief. If you weren’t a fan, I might have grabbed you by the collar. Huh?”
“Being a fan is one thing, and being pissed off is another.”
“You’re incredibly honest in front of me. How about being like this in front of others too?”
“…”
It made sense when he put it that way, and Song Hyun-soo had nothing to say. He could smile without complaining even when Han Joo-young was being annoying, so why was this insubordination possible in front of Yoon Joo-ho? Song Hyun-soo himself couldn’t explain it.
Yoon Joo-ho watched Song Hyun-soo’s silent, motionless standing with keen interest. Then, he let out a sigh so deep it felt like the earth would collapse.
“It seems my words have caused another misunderstanding. No, it’s bound to have.”
The self-reproaching murmur was close to a monologue.