By Zephyria He had tried to avoid any entanglement with Yoon Hye-an, deliberately keeping his distance. Even if it was out of animosity, he wouldn’t deliberately try to make eye contact, but it was happening too frequently. Not knowing how to react, he would fluster, avoid his gaze each time, and just drink more.
As a result, by the time the dinner party ended, Choi Hong-seo felt slightly tipsy.
Following the crowd pouring outside, he stepped out into the restaurant’s garden and saw him smoking in the designated smoking area in a corner, along with other smokers.
Some were gathering people for a second round, some were calling their managers, and some were still engrossed in lively conversation. He watched him from a distance, in a dark corner, far from those people.
He seemed unusually drunk. While there were no overt signs of intoxication, the glistening in his bloodshot eyes showed his tipsiness. He was still surrounded by people, and everyone around him seemed cheerful, yet no smile could be found on the face of the man who was the center of attention.
Wearing the same knit he had worn that day they walked up Namsan, enduring his drunkenness and breathing in smoke, he looked weary. He spoke very little, merely repeating the act of bringing the cigarette to his lips with his head slightly bowed.
Then, over people’s shoulders, Lee Hae-sung’s gaze suddenly turned this way. As if he had already pinpointed Yoon Hye-an’s presence there, he met my eyes instantly and precisely.
Perhaps because of his wet gaze, he seemed to be glaring at me with hostility again this time. It felt like I had earned his deep hatred. The role of Hwang Ji-woo, which Choi Hong-seo had taken on, was perhaps the most crucial part of this film for him. From the start, he had been negative about casting ‘Yoon Hye-an’…
Park Dong-ha, who had been boisterously mingling with the other actors, approached and lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Did you perhaps do something wrong with the Vice President, Hyung?”
“Wrong?”
“Aren’t you looking at him right now? No, isn’t that glaring?”
“Is that so? We haven’t even spoken, so what could I have done wrong? He’s probably just… looking around this area.”
As his sedan, driven by his attendant, arrived, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and walked away without a second glance. The CEO of the production company, who had declared himself his fan since the last company dinner, persistently begged him to join for a second round, but couldn’t stop him as he got into the car.
Just like last time, he left surrounded by people, receiving enthusiastic farewells.
The memories of that day were vivid, each one.
That day too, Choi Hong-seo hadn’t managed to exchange a single word with Lee Hae-sung at the company dinner. And feeling disappointed by that, he had watched the receding rear of his car. Getting into the car driven by his manager, he had even rushed to ask questions like a child when he heard Lee Hae-sung was waiting at the hotel.
Standing in front of the hotel room, he had resolved not to trust him, not to be fooled. Looking back, it was an action to rein himself in, already conscious of his desire to believe.
‘You came all bundled up. You really look like an idol like that.’
He even remembered the tremor that ran through his hand as he lightly touched the brim of his hat and walked away.
Much was similar to that day, yet much more had changed.
There was no way he would be waiting at some hotel, nor would he smile softly, so as not to be frightening.
I had no right to complain. I was the one who had returned all of that.
After seeing off the seniors who were leaving first, Park Dong-ha tapped Choi Hong-seo on the shoulder and said,
“We haven’t seen each other in a while, we should drink more and talk. Is there a lot you need to catch up on? Hyung, I heard you moved, right? Can’t we go to your new place?”
“I’ll definitely invite you next time. I have somewhere to go today.”
“At this hour? It’s already midnight.”
He could only offer an awkward smile to the puzzled Park Dong-ha.
■
After the rear door closed, Lee Hae-sung glanced out the heavily tinted window at the people waving their hands.
More precisely, he was searching for someone among the crowd gathered at the entrance. As the sedan began to move, the figure hidden behind the people was revealed. After hiding in the back the whole time, they slowly walked forward only after the car had left.
Even after the people who had been waving had dispersed, they remained standing there, watching this way for a long time. Just like that child, Hong-seo, had done that day.
“Vice President is departing from Cheongdam.”
The attendant, who had briefly reported to his home in Hannam-dong via phone, stole a worried glance at Lee Hae-sung through the rearview mirror.
“Vice President, are you alright? I bought a hangover drink in advance, would you like some?”
“Do I look that drunk?”
“You don’t seem disheveled, but perhaps because your eyes are bloodshot, you look more intoxicated than usual.”
“I’m fine. Water is enough.”
Lee Hae-sung replied, holding up the bottled water the attendant had prepared in the cup holder, but he didn’t drink it.
The car, having completely left the quiet alley, merged into the dazzling night streets of Gangnam. Even at midnight on a Monday, Dosan-daero had a considerable amount of traffic.
As he listlessly watched the passing scenery outside the window, Lee Hae-sung looked for his cigarette case.
‘I watched Love Story with great impression.’
It wasn’t a coincidence that he heard that. After sending the others who had gone out for a smoke ahead, he had leaned against the door of the private room and listened to their conversation.
Lee Hae-sung took a cigarette from his case, placed it between his lips, and lit it. The production of
Love Story.
Should I consider even this as just a coincidence?
That actor, Yoon Hye-an, coincidentally chose a work by Anton Chekhov for his audition, coincidentally had a habit of counting numbers by folding his fingers when nervous, coincidentally used the word ‘diligence’ in his greeting, and coincidentally mentioned the work
Yes, each of those things could happen. Anton Chekhov was a famous writer, and the habit of counting numbers by folding fingers wasn’t particularly unusual. Emphasizing diligence was commonplace given the situation.
But what was the probability of all those coincidences happening simultaneously?
According to Manager Kang’s investigation, Yoon Hye-an had had no prior contact with Choi Hong-seo. Manager Kang’s investigations were always thorough, but this time there must have been some missed information. Basic investigation didn’t seem sufficient.
I need to look into it more closely…
Lee Hae-sung exhaled a thin stream of smoke and leaned his head back against the seat. He didn’t want to mingle with the noisy crowd, but he also didn’t want to go home like this.
Continuing the film’s production was more emotionally draining than he had expected. If Hong-seo were here… he couldn’t shake the thought every moment.
“Stop by Sowol-ro.”
“Sowol-ro, sir?”
“I want to get some night air.”
“Yes, understood.”
He knew it wouldn’t be enjoyable to walk the path they had walked together, alone. Still, he wanted to do something today. He wanted to feel the emotions caused by that child, even if it was pain.
“Vice President, we are moving to Namsan. I will report your subsequent movements.”
Hearing the attendant quietly report to Hannam-dong without disturbing him in the back seat, Lee Hae-sung stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.
It didn’t take long to cross Hannam Bridge and enter Sowol-ro. The sedan drove slowly, with Namsan on its right. Lee Hae-sung intended to get out at an appropriate spot and walk a bit.
“Wait. Don’t go any further, just stop here for a moment.”
Lee Hae-sung suddenly instructed the car to stop. The attendant turned on the hazard lights and pulled the car over to the right side of the road.
“Over there. Can you clearly see the face of that person leaning on the railing?”
Lee Hae-sung, frowning, pointed to the left and asked the attendant.
It was a time with few people, and the only person visible was a man leaning against the railing, blankly gazing at the night view.
“I’m not entirely sure… but it looks like actor Yoon Hye-an.”
“Go further ahead and make a U-turn. We need to pass slowly right behind him so I can see his face properly.”
When the car turned back, the figure leaning on the railing remained fixed in place.
The sedan slowly passed behind him. Unaware that someone was watching him, the figure was completely absorbed in his own thoughts.
The profile confirmed as we brushed past was undoubtedly Yoon Hye-an.
“What should we do, Vice President?”
“Just go down. The walk is over…”
Lee Hae-sung’s hand fumbled for a cigarette. After several failed attempts, a red ember finally transferred to the tip of the cigarette.
■