HLC 160

As if in dismay, Jung-ho sighed and watched Yoon Joo-ho’s retreating back before turning his gaze towards the filming set. Though they were more than 50 meters apart, Jung-ho could easily tell that Song Hyun-soo was watching them. “Hyung, I’m being dragged along. I’m hired, so I have to do as I’m told.”

He quickened his pace to catch up with Yoon Joo-ho. Among the vehicles lined up along the road, Jung-ho, who had boarded the strikingly noticeable Sprinter, was busy looking around the interior, momentarily forgetting his tension.

“Wow, it was amazing from the outside, but the interior is just insane. This is the long wheelbase model, right?”

Admiring the height that comfortably accommodated his own frame, over 180 cm, Jung-ho reached out and touched the ceiling. This environment would allow even Yoon Joo-ho, who was close to 190 cm, to change clothes comfortably. “These models actually come to Korea? What’s the price with all the options? Well, considering how much he makes in a year, this kind of investment is worth it.”

“You know a lot. Do you like cars?” Yoon Joo-ho asked, sitting in the inner seat of the second row, as he picked up a bottle of water from the cup holder.

“About as much as anyone else. I can’t afford one, but I can dream, right? Hyun-soo hyung and I are always calculating the estimates… Oh…”

Jung-ho, excited by the fact that he was actually riding in a car with options rarely seen on the road, trailed off and fell silent. Yoon Joo-ho took a couple of sips of water, closed the lid, and smiled wryly.

“Porsche 911 in shark blue?”

“Ah, you know it… It’s Hyun-soo hyung’s dream car.”

Jung-ho replied with an awkward laugh, his gaze unconsciously drifting to Yoon Joo-ho’s hand.

“Yoon Joo-ho drinks Samdasoo too.”

Song Hyun-soo’s words were true. Well, what Yoon Joo-ho was holding wasn’t Samdasoo, but it wasn’t the 400,000 won Hawaiian deep-sea water some YouTuber had been raving about either. It was just bottled water anyone could buy at a convenience store.

How many other rumors were false?

He wished the rumors about him constantly firing managers due to his blood-curdling abuse of power were also false…

“You don’t need to be so tense. Sit comfortably.”

Yoon Joo-ho gestured to the adjacent seat, inviting him to sit. Jung-ho barely perched on the edge of the elegant ivory seat, as refined as polished bone.

“You know your superior is me, right, Jung-ho-ssi?”

“What?”

“The person who pays you is your superior.”

“Yes… I suppose so.”

“So, your superior isn’t Manager Nam, and definitely not actor Song Hyun-soo.”

“…”

He couldn’t grasp the meaning behind the words. Jung-ho waited silently for him to continue. Yoon Joo-ho took out a pack of cigarettes from the storage compartment next to the cup holder and opened it, offering it to Jung-ho first.

“Do you smoke?”

“No, I don’t.”

“May I smoke?”

“Of course.”

He nodded and took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips. Jung-ho was momentarily captivated by Yoon Joo-ho’s profile as he lowered his eyes to light it.

How is his nose like that? Is such a line possible without surgery?

But the entire nation had watched Yoon Joo-ho grow up. Even the Yoon Joo-ho from his “Crown Prince” days, seen countless times on YouTube, had that exact nose from such a young age. A straight, sharp nose that looked like it could cut paper.

Yoon Joo-ho exhaled smoke through his lips, like a sigh.

Even during his adolescence, he had never found men who smoked attractive, and that thought had never wavered until now. For a moment, he felt tempted to try smoking. He could see why Chae-young and Yoon Joo-ho’s fans always talked about his aura. It wasn’t just his good looks; there was a certain melancholy emanating from him.

“You know that Song Hyun-soo and I had a falling out.”

After a couple of puffs, Yoon Joo-ho finally seemed to be getting to the point. Jung-ho tensed up, and Yoon Joo-ho continued.

“That incident won’t cause any problems with your contract with me. I’ll make that clear for now.”

“Yes…”

“But honestly, it’s true that things have become awkward with actor Song Hyun-soo.”

“I imagine so, naturally…”

“So, your role will be important from now on.”

“Me…?”

Jung-ho rubbed his palms on his pants and pointed a finger at his own face. “I’d rather be left out of this if possible.”

“You remember the contract clause, right?”

“Which…”

“‘Cooperate as the eyes and ears of the subordinate to collect information needed by the subordinate.'”

“Ah…”

“If I were to ask actor Song Hyun-soo things directly, it would look bad. It could be misunderstood as personal interest or lingering feelings. However, it’s essential for the company to manage its affiliated actors, especially a rookie, closely.”

Yoon Joo-ho shrugged as he spoke, narrowing his brow and taking a deep drag from his cigarette.

“So, you’re saying I should report your hyung’s every move to the senior… is that what you mean?”

“…”

Yoon Joo-ho paused, then raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“Well, you could put it that way.”

He then added emphatically, “Strictly for actor management purposes.”

Anyone could see he’s acting like an ex-boyfriend full of lingering feelings. Still, if he insists on calling it actor management, I’ll cooperate. Because my hyung doesn’t seem to have moved on either. It would probably be beneficial for many people’s mental health if the two of them reconciled and got back together.

Jung-ho nodded, asking for confirmation. “You mean I should tell you without Hyun-soo hyung knowing?”

Yoon Joo-ho rested his elbow on the armrest, propped his chin on his hand, and gave a faint smile.

“It’s good that you’re easy to talk to, Jung-ho-ssi.”

Looking at that smile, which was as radiant as an angel’s yet tinged with a poignant melancholy, Jung-ho felt a sense of dread. He seemed like someone who would do anything to get what he wanted. He didn’t want to make an enemy of this person, even if it meant sacrificing Song Hyun-soo.

Yoon Joo-ho, who had seemed stiff when they first met in front of Song Hyun-soo’s car trunk, now seemed much more relaxed. He flicked his cigarette into an ashtray and spoke in a rapid tone.

“Do whatever you need. Don’t worry about the corporate card.”

“Yes, I will do that.”

Yoon Joo-ho leaned his head back against the headrest and pressed his eye sockets with his palms.

“Actor Song is staying at Jung-ho-ssi’s place, right? Is he… sleeping well?”

Yoon Joo-ho, who asked the question, looked like he himself was lacking sleep.

“I fell asleep first, so I don’t really know.”

Yoon Joo-ho opened his eyes, looked at him, and frowned. His expression was one of disdain.

“It might be cramped for two people, but please bear with it for a while. The company will try to arrange a place for you to stay.”

“Ah… that’s…”

Seeing Jung-ho roll his eyes and scratch his cheek as if troubled, Yoon Joo-ho pressed him harshly.

“What is it?”

“Hyung isn’t at my place right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was staying at my place until yesterday, but last night, hyung left with his luggage.”

“Left? Where?”

“…”

Yoon Joo-ho’s eyebrows twitched. It was astonishing how such a fierce expression could contort his beautiful face, which instantly turned cold. If he hesitated any longer, it felt like he might wring Jung-ho’s neck.

Song Hyun-soo had gravely misunderstood Yoon Joo-ho.

“He likes to think I wouldn’t bat an eye even if we slept together. How ridiculous.”

Bound by the contract, Jung-ho had no choice but to reveal the affiliated actor’s whereabouts to his employer.

“He said he’s working at a bar, so he moved to his friend’s place where there’s an extra room.”

Yoon Joo-ho bit his lower lip so hard it looked like it would split. Smashing his face, which still had makeup on, he ground his teeth.

“Seohae. That son of a bitch.”

■■■

Yoon Joo-ho, who had been driving on the Seohaean Expressway, passed Seongsan Bridge and was now on Gangbyeonbuk-ro. It had been before sunset when they left the set, but by the time he reached Seoul, night had fallen. Yoon Joo-ho’s gaze, which had been fixed on the road ahead, flickered towards the monitor.

An incoming call. Yoon Joo-ho, who was about to block it immediately, stopped. This time, it wasn’t the manager who had been on set with him, but Director Bang. He had no choice but to connect the call.

[Yoon Joo-ho, where are you?]

“Why?”

[Director Lee called me. Said you suddenly drove off. Why aren’t you answering your phone?]

“I finished filming and went home. Where I go after that is my business. Do I need to report that?”

He was scheduled to stay at the on-site accommodation until Friday this week for filming. For drives or short outings for meals, Yoon Joo-ho’s agile Porsche, in addition to the Sprinter, had been parked in the hotel lot. Yoon Joo-ho had driven off from Myeonghae-ri in that car without telling his manager.

[It’s because you’re acting so unstable right now.]

“I’m unstable? Why?”

[Damn it, that’s…]

“Tell me, hyung. Is there a problem with me right now?”

[…]

“The movie you wanted to make so badly has started its crank-in, and filming is going incredibly well. Is there a problem with me? Tell me!”

Director Bang, realizing Yoon Joo-ho was beyond anyone’s control, said nothing. Instead, three or four deep sighs were heard.

“I’ll be back at the hotel by the end of today. Stop treating me like a child.”

Yoon Joo-ho ended the call unilaterally. His destination was just ahead. Normally, he would have gone into the underground parking lot, but this time he chose the main entrance. He handed over the car for valet parking as if abandoning it and ran into the lobby.