By Zephyria 
Hmm.
Instead of continuing with the next line, Yoon Joo-ho flipped the script and laid it on his lap. His tightly closed, thin lips made Song Hyun-soo uneasy.
“What did you say at the first after-party reading?”
“At the after-party? That I should find a company?”
“No, not me. What Song Hyun-soo said. That Baek Kang is Lee San’s brother, friend, hero… and first love, didn’t you say?”
“I did. But why?”
“I think it’s a pretty good interpretation.”
“…Really?”
My homeroom teacher called me to the faculty room, and I was prepared for a severe scolding, but instead, I received unexpected praise. I felt more bewildered than happy.
Yoon Joo-ho nodded and reached for the coffee cup on the table.
“Blindly obsessed, yet at the same time, a terrifyingly pure emotion. If you interpret Lee San’s feelings for Baek Kang that way, wouldn’t it be similar to first love?”
Bringing the coffee cup to his lips, Yoon Joo-ho shrugged.
“Not all first loves are as pure as early summer sunshine, are they?”
Yes, your first love certainly wouldn’t have been as pure as early summer sunshine.
“The interpretation is great. But the problem is how you’ll convey that interpretation to the audience.”
“……”
“Your acting right now doesn’t convey that pure madness.”
“Pure madness. It’s not like being a handsome but ugly person; it’s too difficult.”
“You must have learned various things at the theater company.”
“That damn theater company…”
As soon as the word “theater company” came up, Song Hyun-soo averted his gaze and mumbled. His lips and facial muscles twitched involuntarily.
“What is it now?”
“What?”
This time, Yoon Joo-ho completely covered the script and placed it on the table. Then, he stared at Song Hyun-soo with a slanted gaze.
“I thought something was off today.”
“Me?”
“Then who else is here?”
“I was just focusing on practice.”
“That’s what’s strange. You being quieter than usual and just practicing is suspicious.”
“Are you complaining even when I’m working hard?”
“It’s not about working hard. Honestly, I don’t think you’re concentrating on practice at all? That’s the problem, so I’m asking now.”
“……”
As if he wouldn’t return to practice until I confessed, Yoon Joo-ho leaned back against the sofa, crossed his legs, and drank his coffee. Let’s see who wins, he seemed to say, his firm attitude suggesting he could wait indefinitely.
Song Hyun-soo leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands tightly together. His fingers fidgeted restlessly, and he bit his lower lip with his upper teeth.
Time passed like that.
“Sunbae… are you okay?”
It took all my courage to ask that one sentence. It was a question I had wanted to ask since the interview article about Yoon Joo-ho’s father, but couldn’t.
“What about?”
“Various things. Recent events and…”
And the comments on the article that came out today…
I couldn’t bring myself to add that, so I trailed off vaguely.
Yoon Joo-ho blinked slowly, meeting Song Hyun-soo’s gaze.
You asked about me, so why are you asking about me in return? His head tilted slightly, as if puzzled.
Song Hyun-soo swallowed dryly and moistened his lips with his tongue. Once I started talking, something boiled up inside me. My gaze, meeting Yoon Joo-ho’s, grew stronger.
“Can’t we just sue all the malicious commenters?”
Yoon Joo-ho, who had been quietly gazing at Song Hyun-soo, picked up his cigarette pack. He took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and offered the open pack to Song Hyun-soo. He raised his eyebrows as if asking, Want one? and took the pack.
Yoon Joo-ho lit his cigarette first, exhaled a long puff of smoke, and flicked some dust off his pants.
“So. What happened that led to talking about my malicious comments?”
“I was in a theater company for about a year, wanting to learn acting.”
“I know.”
“You… you know?”
“I heard it from the PD. I mentioned the theater company earlier, didn’t I?”
“Ah. Right.”
After smoking one or two cigarettes with nervous gestures, Song Hyun-soo continued his story.
“I was cast in a movie, so I couldn’t continue working at the theater company anymore. I went to tell them that today.”
He told Yoon Joo-ho about what had happened between him and his senior at the theater company. Excluding what that guy had said about Yoon Joo-ho.
After listening, Yoon Joo-ho tapped his cigarette into the ashtray and pressed his eyelids with his other hand.
“So, did you expect that person to congratulate you or something?”
“Even if not congratulations, there was no need to curse me.”
“Hey, junior, how many years have you been hanging around this industry?”
“……”
“Didn’t you say you were experienced and all?”
“So, are you saying I was wrong?”
My voice rose with a surge of emotion. Yoon Joo-ho looked straight at Song Hyun-soo and shook his head.
“No, you did well. You’re going to act with Yoon Joo-ho in Director Jung Joon-hee’s
“……”
“Because you did well, and it turned out well. That senior bastard got jealous.”
“So you’re telling me to endure it?”
“No, enjoy it.”
“How can I enjoy it? I’m so angry I could die.”
“You need the guts to enjoy jealousy and laugh about it to survive here.”
“……”
“People who genuinely congratulate you? You only need one or two of them. You must have people like that.”
“I do. For starters, Ji…”
“Yes, yes. Jung Ji-in is probably one of those people.”
Yoon Joo-ho waved his hand, cutting off Song Hyun-soo. As if he was tired of hearing about Jung Ji-in.
“So, is that really okay with you, Sunbae?”
If you have one or two people who genuinely congratulate you, does that dilute the malice of so many people? No, that can’t be. It didn’t work out that way for Choi Hong-seo either.
Yoon Joo-ho just looked at Song Hyun-soo silently, a faint, cold smile on his lips.
Song Hyun-soo shook his head. He clenched his left fist, which wasn’t holding a cigarette.
“How could it be okay? It’s impossible for it to be okay.”
He tried to hold back, his eyes straining, but tears welled up. Song Hyun-soo abruptly stood up, put his cigarette in the ashtray, and strode towards the floor-to-ceiling window. He roughly wiped his tears with the back of his hand.
“You said you don’t cry easily.”
“I really don’t. People call me tough. This only happens when I’m frustrated and feel wronged.”
Even after dealing with that theater senior’s nonsense, I barely held it together.
The world outside the window was entirely gray. The low-hanging, thick clouds looked like they could rain snow at any moment.
Yoon Joo-ho’s silhouette, faintly reflected on the window, was crushing out the cigarette Song Hyun-soo had discarded.
“You have a lot of money, Sunbae. Hire a truckload of lawyers and show them what’s what. Those who shit with their mouths should have their own shit shoved back into their mouths.”
“They’re like cockroaches.”
The voice from behind him was calm. Song Hyun-soo turned around.
“Cockroaches?”
“Even if you kill them, kill them, spray them with poison, spray them, if you kill this one, that one appears. If you kill that one, another one. Cockroaches that keep crawling out from somewhere.”
Facing Yoon Joo-ho’s face, I realized. He wasn’t calm; he was resigned.
“So you just let them run wild and cause trouble?”
Yoon Joo-ho, who had flicked away the ash, sighed.
“Junior.”
“……”
“What are you so worried about?”
I thought Hong-seo, that guy, was okay too. Even though he struggled with malicious comments, he was strong. Stronger than anyone I knew, with immense pride. I thought he would never be defeated by them. But…
The decisive factor that drove Choi Hong-seo to death might not have been malicious comments. Too many things were intertwined, and Choi Hong-seo, who had suffered for years, was worn out. It was a miracle he had held on for so long.
But if only there had been a guarantee that those who arbitrarily bit and tore at him didn’t exist. Perhaps he wouldn’t have made that choice. Even now, Song Hyun-soo couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Sunbae.”
“……”
“If you need someone to talk to over a drink, please call me, even if it’s just me.”
Song Hyun-soo returned to the sofa and sat down. He composed himself and continued speaking calmly.
“You might think, ‘What kind of bullshit is this guy talking about?’ but…”
“You’ve got it exactly right.”
“Yes, I expected you to say that. But…”
“……”
“Having someone to talk to comfortably over a drink is, surprisingly, important in life.”
A guy who doesn’t even drink much, asking me to have a drink sometime.
Now, I know what Choi Hong-seo was trying to say, what he wanted to talk about. But now, I can never hear that conversation.
You ask what I’m so worried about? I’m worried that even a senior who looks okay might not be okay on the inside.