By Zephyria “So, Joo-ho’s point is that working hard like Hyun-soo-ssi is ultimately the way to have a longer career. That Hyun-soo-ssi is doing well. That’s what he means.”
“Ah, hyung! Come on.”
Yoon Joo-ho snapped at Director Bang.
He pulled his legs down from the ottoman, sat up from his relaxed posture, and furrowed his brow.
“What, man?”
“I’m speaking Korean right now, aren’t I? Are you my interpreter?”
“I need an interpreter for what you’re saying, why?”
Director Bang hit the nail on the head. Kuh-heup, Song Hyun-soo let out a strange sound trying to hold back his laughter. Both men’s gazes fixed on Song Hyun-soo. He quickly wiped the smile off his face and composed his expression.
“So, what exactly do I need to do?”
“A script practice partner.”
Yoon Joo-ho answered concisely, and Director Bang added a clarification.
“My acting isn’t great. Joo-ho says it’s too hard to get into character with me. How do you practice your script, Hyun-soo-ssi?”
“I recorded myself acting out the other characters’ lines.”
“Then there’s no sense of realism.”
Will that be enough, Yoon Joo-ho asked with a hint of doubt.
“I don’t have the luxury of hiring someone just for script practice.”
“……”
Yoon Joo-ho gestured to Director Bang with his eyes, and Director Bang quickly produced a few documents.
“Take a look. It’s our proposal. Feel free to tell us if there’s anything you want to change.”
“Are there parts you want to change? If it were me, I’d sign it without hesitation.”
Director Bang nudged Yoon Joo-ho, telling him to shut up and stay quiet.
Song Hyun-soo skimmed through the documents.
It was a type of employment contract for an part-time job where he would come to Yoon Joo-ho’s house three times a week for three hours each time to practice the script together.
The difference from a typical part-time job was that several conditions were attached below.
“Joo-ho is going to start bulking up for his role. He has a lot of things to learn too, so he only has time then to fit in three sessions a week. Since he needs to save time, we were hoping Hyun-soo-ssi could come to his place, if that’s okay.”
Song Hyun-soo took his eyes off the document and glanced at Yoon Joo-ho.
“You’re bulking up?”
“You looked at it like you were devouring it. You can’t tell just by looking?”
He really knows how to talk.
Suppressing the urge to retort, he asked Director Bang.
“But is it okay for an outsider like me to be coming and going from your house?”
“Yes, well… the important rooms are all equipped with separate locks anyway. For actors like Joo-ho, security and time are life. As long as you guarantee confidentiality according to the contract, it’s fine.”
Song Hyun-soo couldn’t believe his ears. He thought he had misheard or misunderstood. Locks on the rooms, not the front door?
He quickly scanned his eyes around. There were three doors visible from where Song Hyun-soo was sitting, and one of them actually had a door lock installed. It was the door Yoon Joo-ho had just come out of, and Director Bang had entered and exited.
Director Bang, noticing Song Hyun-soo’s gaze, added an explanation in a bitter tone.
“There have been quite a few incidents.”
“……”
“I know the clauses are strict, but that’s why we’ve set the compensation generously.”
Director Bang stood up and pointed to the middle of the contract. Song Hyun-soo’s eyes, which involuntarily followed the tip of his finger, widened. This time, he had no time to worry about appearances.
Three times a week, three hours per session, hourly wage… h-h-one hundred thousand won??
A calculator whirred in his head. One hundred thousand won per hour meant 300,000 won per session, 900,000 won per week, and in a month… 3.6 million??
It was more than the combined income from ‘Jessica’ and the theater. Anyway, all he got from the theater was enough for a transportation card.
He wanted to take the bait immediately. His breath hitched with excitement, and his hips twitched. But the sweeter the offer, the higher the probability of a hidden trap. Especially in the entertainment industry.
Trying to regain his composure, he scanned the conditions below. The confidentiality clause stood out the most.
Though couched in plausible legal jargon, it essentially meant he must never leak anything he saw or heard in this house. It hinted that if the clause were violated, Yoon Joo-ho’s representative, ‘B,’ would hold ‘A,’ Song Hyun-soo, legally responsible.
But seriously, in the Korean entertainment industry, where else is there a super-giant like Yoon Joo-ho that he himself is ‘B’? Yet, looking at the contract again, Song Hyun-soo was ‘A,’ and Yoon Joo-ho’s representative was ‘B.’
It was obvious what would happen if a mogul like Yoon Joo-ho sued him. He would incur a debt he couldn’t repay even if he worked his whole life. The thought alone sent a chill down his spine.
But he was confident he wouldn’t let that happen.
No one around him, not even Choi Hong-seo or Jung Ji-in, knew that Song Hyun-soo was a fan of Yoon Joo-ho. Jung-ho and Chae-young didn’t know either. Nor did they know that he fell asleep every night with Yoon Joo-ho’s works playing.
Someone once told Song Hyun-soo that he’d float even if he fell into water, but that was before they knew his true nature. Everything Song Hyun-soo blabbered about in front of people was all useless talk, mere shells. He didn’t share his hardships or worries. He didn’t need others’ understanding, and he thought such talk would only be a weakness.
Even Jung Ji-in, before they became closer after ‘that incident,’ knew nothing about Song Hyun-soo’s family or his origins. And the only friend who shared all of it was now gone from this world.
“Hyun-soo-ssi, you’re close with Jung actor, aren’t you? That makes you even more trustworthy.”
“Yes?”
Lost in thought, Song Hyun-soo looked up at Director Bang.
“Jung actor. I mean Ji-in-ssi.”
“Ah, yes! Ji-in hyung. I’m close with him!”
Song Hyun-soo’s face lit up as soon as Jung Ji-in was mentioned. It was as if Jung Ji-in had appeared before him right then; just hearing his name made him happy.
“How is Jung actor? Is he doing well these days?”
But Director Bang’s expression as he asked seemed a little strange. Since Yoon Joo-ho and Jung Ji-in were close, he would hear news anyway. He seemed cautious, like someone asking about an ex-lover they couldn’t directly get news from anymore.
“He hasn’t been living there long, so he seems a bit hectic, but he’s already started exercising again and seems to be adjusting well.”
“He will. Jung actor is someone you don’t have to worry about anywhere. Is he going to continue acting there too?”
“Hyung.”
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been silently spinning his juice glass, interjected.
“Stop it.”
“Ah, sorry. I went too far off track.”
Director Bang hastily concluded the topic with an awkward smile. A subtle atmosphere hung between Yoon Joo-ho and Director Bang. It wasn’t the same casual banter from moments before. Yoon Joo-ho’s expression, as he crushed a cigarette in the ashtray, even looked grim.
Song Hyun-soo felt he knew the reason for this stiff atmosphere. He nodded meaningfully to himself, trying not to let them notice. He was quite perceptive too, you know.
It’s clear they fought. Fought? No, Jung Ji-in isn’t the type to fight with anyone. It’s 100% Yoon Joo-ho’s fault. When they met at ‘Jessica’ last time, they seemed normal. What on earth did he do so wrong in the meantime… Ugh, you idiot.
Yoon Joo-ho, having completely extinguished his cigarette, reached for the contract.
“If you can’t sign it, then quit.”
Song Hyun-soo quickly snatched the document.
“Hey! You’re so impatient. Who said I wouldn’t do it?”
“Then sign it quickly.”
“Before I sign, I have one condition.”
“You want conditions when the hourly wage is 100,000 won?”
Haa. With a deep sigh, Yoon Joo-ho ran a hand through his hair. Then, with an expression of maximum patience, he asked.
“What is it.”
“Please guide and discipline me. That’s all I need.”
“……”
“Please review my acting too.”
Yoon Joo-ho’s sour expression slowly changed. Like a cartoon villain who had found an interesting opponent, the corners of his mouth curled up, and his eyes sparkled with life.
“Persistent, this junior.”
He said it as if he were bored, but he looked pleased to have met a persistent junior.
Song Hyun-soo picked up a pen.
“Then, I’ll consider it agreed. I just need to sign here, right?”
After Song Hyun-soo signed, Yoon Joo-ho placed his glass on the side table and stood up.
“Let’s start right away today.”
Is Yoon Joo-ho my lucky charm or a rotten rope? Time will tell.
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