Chapter 47
Above all, it was questionable whether he could continue acting in the future. The most devastating blow was that the number of auditions available to him had significantly decreased compared to before. On top of that, it was unclear when he could attend classes again, as the short-term part-time jobs he barely managed to get were insufficient for his living expenses.
Yet if he were to find a full-time job, he would face the problem of missing sudden audition opportunities, which was troublesome.
What woke Cheong-yeon from his deeply serious mood was a vibration from his pocket. He reflexively straightened his back and took out his phone to check the screen. The caller was Kim Kyung-seop.
Should I answer later? After briefly glancing at Do-heon in the driver’s seat and considering, he pressed the call button, thinking it might be urgent.
“Yes, Manager.”
—Where are you? Can you talk for a moment?
“Go ahead.”
—Cheong-yeon, about the sponsor I mentioned before.
Startled, Cheong-yeon hurriedly lowered the call volume. Though it wasn’t loud enough for Do-heon to hear, his heart pounded with worry.
But why is he bringing this up again with a phone call when it’s already settled?
Trying to suppress his bubbling irritation, Cheong-yeon bit his molar.
—Are you really not interested? There’s someone who’s contacted us several times showing interest in you, and they have quite some influence in the industry.
“I clearly said no before. Why do you keep bringing up this spo—ah, anyway, forget it.”
Just as he was about to say “sponsor,” Cheong-yeon involuntarily flinched and checked Do-heon’s reaction.
—I know you’re uncomfortable with this, so I tried not to push. But they said they’d properly back the project currently in planning if you just had a few meals with them…
Kim Kyung-seop elaborated on the sponsor’s plans without being asked. With Do-heon sitting right beside him, Cheong-yeon kept startling at just the mention of the word “sponsor,” as if he were guilty of something.
“Um, Manager. I’m outside right now, so it’s difficult for me to talk at length. I’ll call you back later.”
Cheong-yeon excessively turned his body away from Do-heon and whispered into the phone, lowering his voice as much as possible.
—No, Yoo Cheong-yeon. Are you listening to me? This is an extremely serious matter…
“Yes, yes. I understand. Thank you. See you later.”
Click.
After abruptly hanging up regardless of what Kim Kyung-seop was saying, Cheong-yeon switched his phone to Do Not Disturb mode.
“Haah…”
He surely didn’t hear, right? As he sighed and looked at Do-heon, he was holding the steering wheel with his usual expressionless face.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem particularly interested. Cheong-yeon felt deeply relieved internally and turned back to gaze out the car window.
Why did Kim Kyung-seop have to call at this time to say such unnecessary things? The timing was terrible. When he should be showing his ex-husband how well he’s living, talking about whether or not to take a sponsor makes no sense.
But setting aside the embarrassment, thinking differently… it could also be interpreted that his situation had become so desperate that Kim Kyung-seop had no choice but to approach him like this.
He had reached a point where it was difficult to land even a minor role, let alone a supporting one, without solid connections.
All this was because of the label of having abandoned a filming set. Divorced man, and a deserter. He had no idea how many years he would have to struggle before his image could recover.
Should I really quit? Cheong-yeon bit his lower lip dejectedly.
“Are you still going to auditions these days?”
“What? Oh, yes.”
At Do-heon’s question breaking the long silence, Cheong-yeon gave a brief answer without taking his eyes off the window.
And silence fell inside the car again.
Normally, Cheong-yeon would have been the first to bring up some pointless topic just to avoid the discomfort of sitting quietly alone with him, but now he lacked the energy for that. His mind was darker and more complicated than ever.
As he stared blankly at the changing scenery outside with a serious expression,
HONNNK!
Suddenly, a loud noise pierced Cheong-yeon’s ears. At the same time, the car came to an abrupt stop, causing his body to lurch forward.
Startled, Cheong-yeon covered his ears and shrank back. Only after turning his head to check if Do-heon was okay did he realize that it was Do-heon who had mercilessly honked the horn.
“…Director?”
Cheong-yeon alternately looked at Do-heon and beyond the steering wheel, trying to understand the situation.
“Did I scare you? Sorry. A car was cutting in front.”
Do-heon somewhat roughly brushed back his hair, then calmly took hold of the steering wheel again. His voice was composed as if nothing had happened.
Although Cheong-yeon hadn’t ridden in Do-heon’s car often, this was the first time he had made such a rough, sudden stop. Whether a car had actually tried to cut in or not, the car in front had apparently started to nose in but had paused awkwardly, startled by the horn.
Do-heon began driving again, stepping on the accelerator as if nothing unusual had happened, as though he had never been so aggressive.
Cheong-yeon was still dumbfounded and glanced at him with roving eyes. Looking at his expression, he did seem more rigid than usual.
He thought about asking if Do-heon was in a bad mood, but figuring he probably wouldn’t answer anyway, Cheong-yeon turned back to the window to kill time. He found it curious that even a robot-like person like him could drive terribly sometimes.
“Please drop me off in front of the station.”
As they approached his neighborhood, Cheong-yeon pointed to the subway entrance. Since it wasn’t dark yet, Do-heon stopped the car at the spot Cheong-yeon indicated without protest.
“I’m going now.”
Cheong-yeon immediately opened the car door. Since Grandmother had said she was going to America, the reason for the two to meet once a week was gone. So today was truly their last meeting.
Recognizing it was really over, Cheong-yeon briefly considered saying farewell, wishing him well. But he decided not to leave any words.
Cheong-yeon closed the car door and turned away. For some reason, the car didn’t leave for a while, but Cheong-yeon didn’t mind and quickly disappeared into the alley.
*
“Wow, this is seriously crazy? At this point, you must be cursed or something.”
Meeting at a gopchang restaurant after a long time, Kim Ji-han shook his head while chewing on the chewy intestines. Lamenting the events that had occurred, Cheong-yeon downed the soju in front of him in one go, feeling frustrated.
“Ugh. Should I just quit acting altogether…”
“People are really horrible. I mean, calling someone in and then asking them to act out a romance with their ex-husband? That’s nonsense. And they knew your situation perfectly well.”
“Exactly. And they deliberately didn’t show me the script beforehand.”
“It’s a premeditated crime, a premeditated crime. They probably thought that if they intimidated innocent people like you, you’d be scared and film as directed.”
Kim Ji-han clicked his tongue, saying it was predictable.
“By the way, I honestly didn’t know you wanted to act so seriously that you’d go through all this struggle.”
Kim Ji-han poured soju into the empty glass and shared his honest impression. In response, Cheong-yeon didn’t know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut and stirred the grill.
After eating another well-cooked piece of gopchang and taking a sip of soju, Kim Ji-han added again.
“Why acting specifically? These days, you could gather some followers on Instagram, do a few group purchases, and make enough money to live on.”
At Kim Ji-han’s serious question, Cheong-yeon sighed.
‘Why do you want to be an actor?’
He had heard the same question from Do-heon not long ago. He had given a vague answer to him, but for some reason, it was difficult to readily lie to Kim Ji-han, who was looking at him earnestly.
Cheong-yeon picked up his glass and downed the soju.
“Hey, hey? Take it slow. You’ll get knocked out at this rate.”
Kim Ji-han tried to stop him, but the glass was already empty. Cheong-yeon took a deep breath and scanned the restaurant. After blankly watching strangers sitting around grills and chatting about various things, he shifted his gaze back to Kim Ji-han.
“Ji-han.”
“What?”
“You know… do you like yourself?”
“W-what? Suddenly?”
At the emotionally charged question, Kim Ji-han rubbed his arms as if he had goosebumps. Then, just as Cheong-yeon had done, he downed his glass of alcohol in one go before speaking.
“Well. How many people here are really full of self-love?”
“……”
“When we’re being evaluated on a nano-scale every day.”
“That’s true.”
Cheong-yeon nodded in agreement.
“But people still stay in this industry because they love it, even when they’re sick of being evaluated. That’s why you want to act too.”
“Right. That’s part of it. Actually, I…”
“……”
“Actually, I don’t like who I really am, Yoo Cheong-yeon… but when I’m acting, I feel good because it’s like becoming someone else.”
Cheong-yeon rested his chin on the table and recalled the moment he first acted.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
