By Zephyria 
Ignoring the curses, threats, and insults hurled from behind, he ran up the stairs and out of the theater. Still fuming, he walked briskly through the Daehangno alleys, puffing.
They could have sent me off nicely, even if not with congratulations.
Because things had never gone well, and he had always struggled at the bottom. He had received nothing but pity and comfort, never congratulations. So perhaps, unconsciously, he had held expectations.
Jung Ji-in had rejoiced as if it were her own matter. Jung-ho and Chae-young had jumped with joy to congratulate him. If Choi Hong-seo were here, he would have definitely been happy and said he did really well. Then I would have teased him, ‘Hey, are you crying?’ and he would have vehemently denied it.
He hadn’t expected that much. But for a junior much younger than him to get an opportunity, even if he was inwardly jealous, to react like that…
“Ah… no! Hold it in, hold it in!”
Song Hyun-soo tilted his chin up and blinked to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. He had never cried even when watching movies or dramas that others found sad. This habit of tears bursting out when he was angry was something he couldn’t fix.
“Damn it, that kind of person isn’t even worth my tears. Hold it in!”
He took a breath, smoking a cigarette in a quiet back alley.
The casting news for Yoon Joo-ho had come out this morning. Song Hyun-soo had received a call from the
They had planned to wait longer until the scandal involving Yoon Joo-ho’s parents subsided, but it was released amidst the commotion of Kang Mi-yeon’s scandal, taking advantage of the situation. The PR representative had spoken as if it were fortunate. He understood the representative’s position and intentions perfectly. However, the bitter aftertaste was unavoidable.
To go to Yoon Joo-ho’s house, Song Hyun-soo boarded the 301 bus at the Marronnier Park bus stop. He squeezed into the very back seat and put his earphones in.
Inside the rattling bus, Song Hyun-soo fiddled with his phone for a long time.
Why bother looking for it and stressing yourself out when you could just not look?
He used to stop Choi Hong-seo whenever he struggled with online hate comments. Now, Song Hyun-soo was doing what Choi Hong-seo used to do.
After unlocking his phone screen, Song Hyun-soo finally typed Yoon Joo-ho into the search bar.
⤷ After 30 years of silence, suddenly a movie??? LOL. Did he suddenly get an artistic complex?
⤷ Maybe he’s trying to kick his parents out of the company to feel like an artist while filming a movie.
⤷ Joo-ho, there’s a reason your parents only had you do dramas for 30 years. Stop being pretentious and just eat what you’ve been eating lol.
⤷ Yoon Joo-ho seems to know nothing about the world and thinks he’s successful because he’s so great, but if he really breaks ties with his parents, he’ll fall into ruin instantly. His 30 years of popularity can crumble in an instant like a sandcastle.
His heart pounded violently. On days he was particularly tired, after drinking five or six cups of coffee, his heart would pound as if he had robbed a bank, and that’s exactly how it felt.
How could they speak so carelessly, spewing whatever they pleased?
Because he’s a celebrity. Because he makes billions. So you have to listen to their dog-like ramblings whenever they feel like it? Damn it, then your boss who pays you should be able to bully you too! What does the money Yoon Joo-ho makes have to do with your foul mouth??
In Song Hyun-soo’s eyes, they looked like lunatics squatting in the middle of a public path, baring their asses and defecating. Lunatics who thought no one could see their backs, wiping their faces clean and feigning normal expressions.
Thump. Song Hyun-soo pressed his temple against the car window. Then, thump, thump, a couple more times. He lightly bumped it. The student in the next seat, clutching their bag, slowly shuffled their hips away in the opposite direction.
That’s right, student. It’s better to avoid me now. I’m a little out of my mind.
■■■
I don’t know what state of mind I was in until I arrived at Yoon Joo-ho’s mansion. I think I sighed once a minute. Even though I was disappointed to learn Yoon Joo-ho only dealt with top stars (though I don’t know why I was disappointed), I didn’t feel this way when I came to this house yesterday. Pressing the doorbell felt more exciting then.
But today, I felt torn in half between wanting to just turn back and wanting to check on Yoon Joo-ho’s condition nonetheless. I was afraid to face Yoon Joo-ho. Afraid he wouldn’t look okay.
And of all people, Yoon Joo-ho was the one who opened the front door.
“Sang-ho Hyung is in the bathroom.”
Yoon Joo-ho explained to Song Hyun-soo, who had paused.
Unlike his usual comfortable indoor wear and robe, his attire and hairstyle were perfectly set.
“Where did you go?”
“Just shopping.”
Yoon Joo-ho answered briefly and led the way, his back looking perfect. It was so perfect, I would have believed he had come straight from a photoshoot without changing.
My worries were rendered pointless; he seemed completely fine. Just like the day the news about his parents broke.
His attitude in the practice room seemed no different from usual.
“You heard that script readings are canceled for next week and the week after, right?”
“Yes.”
That was the news I’d heard when the PR manager called this morning.
As he lit an incense candle in front of the display cabinet, Yoon Joo-ho said,
“Let’s take next week off from the part-time job too.”
“Why? We need to practice hard. And then there’s Christmas… is that okay?”
“I already have a lot of appearances to make at the end of the year. Next week, with Christmas overlapping, I really can’t spare any time. If I make a good impression at the end of the year, work won’t stop next year.”
“Someone at your level doesn’t need to do that.”
Yoon Joo-ho, who had lit several incense candles, waved a long match to extinguish the ember. He tossed the match into a wooden box and walked towards me with a slight smile.
A simple black wide-leg pant and a black knit. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he walked with his hands in his pant pockets.
“There are those who think they can get work based on popularity alone. But this industry is ultimately about people working together. Popularity might carry you for a year or two. But new popular people keep emerging. Those who shine for a year or two and then disappear all have their reasons.”
Plop. Yoon Joo-ho sank into the single-seater sofa and glanced at Song Hyun-soo’s complexion.
“You look gloomy?”
“No, I don’t.”
Yoon Joo-ho tilted his head and gave a knowing smile.
“No script reading. Are you sad you can’t see me?”
“I’m sad because I won’t get paid for the part-time job.”
He let out a light chuckle at Song Hyun-soo’s stiff reply and picked up the camera on the table. He seemed no different than usual.
While Yoon Joo-ho fiddled with the camera, Director Bang prepared the tea. But today, coffee was served for Yoon Joo-ho. Song Hyun-soo sipped his tea, observing Yoon Joo-ho intermittently. His eyes seemed bloodshot.
“Did you not sleep well yesterday either?”
Yoon Joo-ho looked over, his eyes slightly raised.
“Yesterday too?”
“I heard Director Bang mention that you don’t usually sleep well.”
“It’s just… a chronic condition I always have.”
He said it as if it were nothing.
“I always sleep with the TV on too.”
Especially shows you’re in.
“When the TV is on, it feels like I’m not alone, so I feel reassured.”
Is that positivity or something? Yoon Joo-ho pulled his lips back and gave a short, silent laugh.
“They say only lonely people think like that.”
“Who said that?”
“Some quack doctor who counseled me once.”
Yoon Joo-ho got up from the single-seater sofa and set up two cameras on their tripods as usual. However, the camera in front of the sofa was angled slightly differently than usual. It seemed to be facing Song Hyun-soo’s face.
“Scene number 99.”
Scene number 99? Song Hyun-soo quickly flipped through the script. It was the scene he expected.
“This… this is Kang-i and Lee San’s scene. And it’s one of the difficult ones.”
“It’s a tricky scene, so we’re practicing it. Is there a problem?”
“If you had told me in advance, I would have prepared.”
“It’s not like you’ve never practiced it at all.”
“That’s true, but…”
“You agreed to the part-time job in exchange for me looking at your acting, didn’t you?”
Yoon Joo-ho mercilessly turned on the red light on the camera. Then, instead of sitting next to Song Hyun-soo, he returned to the single-seater sofa. Since it wasn’t Baek Kang and Lee Sol’s scene, there was no need for them to be close.
S#99. Baek Kang’s Room (Afternoon)
Baek Kang, shirtless, sits on a chair with his upper arm bandaged, while an agitated Lee San paces frantically around the room.
“I can’t forgive him. I absolutely cannot forgive him. That bastard, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”
Baek Kang has just had a fight with film director Jeon Yu-jeong.
After his release from prison, Baek Kang and Lee Sol’s relationship was not the same as before, which was making Lee San unstable. Lee San believed the film director was the one who ruined everything, and his resentment towards Jeon Yu-jeong reached its peak due to Baek Kang’s altercation with him.
“Lee San, you’re being disruptive. Come here and hold this bandage.”
“You should have beaten him up more, Hyung. No, even now, I…!”
Baek Kang blocks Lee San, who is about to run out of the room.
“San-ah, it was just a minor scuffle.”
“Hyung, you’re hurt!”
“This will heal in a few days. I was emotional too. It’s my fault too.”
“Why is it your fault? You did nothing wrong! Hyung, you… you did everything for Noona…”
To calm Lee San down, Baek Kang hugs him. Of course, there was no need to practice that.