When Kang Hyeon cautiously brought it up, CEO Goo Seong-do didn’t respond, as if he’d suddenly realized something. As the sound of his pondering sigh came through the phone, Kang Hyeon hurried to speak.
“Then at least let me pay you a fee.”
—Buy me a meal. I’ll set a standard rate for the modeling gig, so just make a proposal and stick to it. You’ve got to get used to signing contracts too.
“…It’s not like I’m that well-known.”
He’d just gotten lucky—someone he knew had suggested him as a hanbok model. He was simply grateful to Grandma Eun-young for helping him land a job at all. But contrary to his feelings, CEO Goo fell silent for a moment before cautiously asking,
—So… how’ve you been?
The belated check-in mid-conversation made Kang Hyeon give an awkward laugh.
“I’ve been doing well. Is everyone at Mpia doing alright?”
—Same as always… Anyway, you’re not coming back for a while, are you?
Kang Hyeon didn’t know how to respond. The way he said it, it was like not coming back was a given. Kang Hyeon tried to figure out what he meant when Goo Seong-do continued.
—When you get caught up in a scandal, it’s normal to feel rattled and overwhelmed. Shake it off quickly. Actors need to stay consistent and let their skills speak. And your network—only you can protect it.
“…What do you mean by that?”
—If you just up and leave because you’re uncomfortable, then what? Hyun-sook and Director Yoo are both your connections too.
As he listened, something began to feel increasingly off. A hunch made him ask carefully,
“Are you talking about Do-yeong?”
—Aren’t I?
Kang Hyeon’s eyes widened in surprise. It seemed like Goo Seong-do thought he’d left because of Do-yeong. Not entirely wrong, but the way he said it, it sounded like he believed there was some kind of fallout or issue between them. Kang Hyeon tried to find the right words to explain without causing a misunderstanding, but Goo spoke first, his voice laced with regret.
—You need to stand firm. Be clear about what’s what, and look after the people around you. You can’t just let someone take them away.
“Ah… I think you’re misunderstanding something. Do-yeong can do anything on his own even without connections. Having him around is only ever a gain, never a loss.”
—Then why’s someone like that setting up an office here? Honestly, I can’t figure him out. I’ve met a lot of people in this industry, enough to get a read on someone pretty quickly, but even after several encounters, I still don’t know what kind of person Do-yeong is.
“Oh, that’s just because Do-yeong’s a little socially awkward.”
—He’s been in the business for ages. Saying he lacks social skills now is hard to believe.
“Well, Do-yeong is… I mean…”
Kang Hyeon paused, wondering how best to explain him. In the end, he decided to just say it as he felt.
“To put it simply, he’s like a spoiled rich kid. If you look at him through that lens, it’ll all start to make sense. It’s not that he doesn’t understand hardship, he just hasn’t experienced it firsthand. Like, he knows in theory that financial struggle is tough, but he’s never actually felt it himself.”
—…
“Do-yeong was a child actor and got famous early, so outside of home and school, he hasn’t really been anywhere or done much. His family trips are basically just formal events. He’s got this obsessive sense of duty to protect his family’s reputation, so he’s always stiff and tense around people.”
Kang Hyeon continued, as if trying to persuade Goo Seong-do.
“He always helps out his college seniors when they’re struggling. He’s funded theater productions, helped promising juniors get CF gigs, blocked bad press…”
Listing all the things Do-yeong had done for Lee Ji-gyeong made Kang Hyeon sigh without realizing.
“He’ll help anyone, as long as they’re not trying to use him. And even then, he’s never once tried to take credit or expected anything in return.”
Kang Hyeon’s passionate defense made CEO Goo’s voice waver in surprise on the other end.
—Well… I can tell you really care about him, the way you’re passionately sticking up for him.
“You remember when Senior Lee Hyun-sook didn’t have a place to stay and he just went ahead and booked her a hotel room? That was actually the room he was using as a temporary office. He only said that so she wouldn’t feel burdened.”
As Kang Hyeon kept defending Do-yeong, CEO Goo’s response was slower, clearly caught off guard.
—So that’s what it was…
“Do-yeong’s really good to the people around him. But he still doesn’t get recognized for it. I think it’s because he doesn’t seem considerate when he talks. It’s just that his way of speaking is really blunt. He’s never had to grovel or beg anyone for anything.”
—Hmm… Yeah. There are people who do good and still don’t get good press. I’ve even gotten help from him, yet I was still wary of him.
At the word “wary,” Kang Hyeon tensed up.
“…Did something happen?”
—Not exactly. It’s just… his behavior felt off. Like he was following you around and trying to pull everyone in your circle into his orbit? It almost felt like he was isolating you. I’ve seen that kind of gaslighting before, so I wondered if he was that kind of person.
“…”
—I thought maybe you were distancing yourself from him because you didn’t like that side of him.
“No… I…”
He swallowed the words “because I like him” and steadied his voice.
“I just had a lot on my mind, so I came to the countryside to sort things out.”
—The countryside?
“Didn’t Do-yeong tell you?”
—No. Now that you mention it, I’ve never seen him talk about other people.
CEO Goo fell silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then he gave a soft sigh and continued.
—Chief Choi says he’s been holed up reading scripts, maybe gearing up for his next project.
“Oh… scripts.”
—I heard he was even reviewing Oh I-seul’s script, but lately he hasn’t even been showing up at the office. Anyway, I’ll follow up on the hanbok modeling thing and get back to you. Thanks.
“No, I should be the one thanking you. Really, thank you.”
When the long call finally ended, Kang Hyeon felt drained. It had been a while since he talked this much. He couldn’t help wondering what kind of impression Do-yeong was giving people for CEO Goo to feel that way. Anxiously, he opened the last message he’d received from him.
[I’ll wait.]
“Phew…”
A sigh slipped from his lips. He glanced at the calendar, downed the rest of his iced coffee, and sent a reply to Baek Ga-yeong.
[Okay.]
He had to go back to Seoul anyway for ADR (voiceover dubbing). Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about how to naturally bring up Do-yeong’s condition when he saw her.
***
A few days later, having taken an early morning intercity bus to Seoul, Kang Hyeon couldn’t take his eyes off his phone. Back home, he kept himself busy with tasks to avoid using it, but during the long ride up, he had nothing else to do and ended up scrolling through news feeds. That’s when he checked his name on social media and stumbled across a photo.
It was from the day he wore the outfit Do-yeong had sponsored for a web drama shoot. In the photo, Kang Hyeon was touching his lips, likely caught in a moment of listening intently to the staff during filming. Unfortunately, it was his left hand that was visible, making the watch Do-yeong gave him stand out clearly.
It almost looked like a watch ad. Sure enough, the comments were full of admiration for the watch model. Curious, he tapped the account and saw more photos of himself—one where he was smiling with a female co-star who played his older sister, and others that seemed to be behind-the-scenes stills, mostly upper-body shots from the drama set.
In the comments of one photo, people had attached a couple of pictures—one of him and Yoon Do-yeong at the supermarket, and another of him covering Do-yeong at the beach while getting into a car.
“Thought he was just a manager, but turns out he’s an actor named Kang Hyeon ♡”
“I saw him on the subway! Thought he was handsome—so he was an actor ♡”
There weren’t many comments, but Kang Hyeon’s eyes sparkled as he read them. Feeling a little giddy, he searched a bit more and found another photo of himself wearing a coat and looking serious, staring off into the distance. It was a close-up, so he couldn’t tell where it was taken, but it looked like it was during filming. The photo turned out really well, making him smile. He even straightened up subconsciously, suddenly self-conscious. Then he chuckled at himself.
He wasn’t even a big-name actor—just a guy who’d done a few supporting and minor roles—so nobody would really recognize him. Still, it made him happy, and his steps felt lighter. As he kept scrolling, he came across a familiar photo of him with Do-yeong. He’d seen it before, but he looked it over carefully again, as if rereading a favorite passage. Eventually, his gaze shifted to Do-yeong’s face. His pace slowed until he stood at the street corner, staring at the photo as if admiring it. Then he gave a small shake of his head, like brushing off a thought, and hurried toward the recording studio.
As he stepped into the 7-story building through the revolving doors, he came face-to-face with a man standing dazed in the corner of the elevator with a backpack.
“Hello.”
“Long time no see.”
Director Yoo Ji-ha, looking exhausted, raised his hand in greeting.
“Did you not sleep well? You look tired.”
When Kang Hyeon asked with concern, Director Yoo silently mouthed “editing” and let out a small yawn.
“Want to grab a coffee? My treat.”
“Thanks.”
With a slight smile, Director Yoo headed out of the building, and Kang Hyeon followed. The café was about a block away, and the director chose a seat by the window. Kang Hyeon took a sip of his Americano while watching the video on the tablet the director handed him.
It was a rough cut of a scene he’d acted in. Director Yoo looked completely worn out, and as Kang Hyeon focused on the footage, the director glanced over his shoulder.
Through the large monstera leaves in a decorative pot, he noticed a man sitting with his back to them, wearing a black baseball cap. Director Yoo stared for a beat, then straightened his posture.
