“The character’s a third-generation chaebol, but apparently he’s arrogant and cruel beneath the surface. He instigates corporate warfare, creates slush funds through subcontractors, even kills people… something like that. A sociopath? That kind of role.”
It was nice to hear that the character was supposedly based on him, but since Hyeon hadn’t met with her that often, he was more puzzled than flattered.
“What part of me made her create a character like that?”
“Hmm… maybe it’s how you were with Do-yeong? When he was upstairs in the duplex, you told him to come down like you were training him.”
Kang Hyeon gave an awkward smile at the word training. It was surprising to realize that’s how others had seen him, and he suddenly felt nervous wondering how Yoon Do-yeong’s obedience might have come across. But CEO Goo Seong-do didn’t seem to care in the slightest and responded with a satisfied tone.
“Hyun-sook’s likely to be cast as the villainous secretary.”
CEO Goo smiled warmly from deep within.
“Writer Oh basically wrote the role with Hyun-sook in mind—she even consulted her like she was getting the role approved. It suits her perfectly. The budget’s not that big, so most of the cast will probably be unknowns, but I’ll add you to the audition list. Go try it out. If you say you’re signing on with Hyun-sook, they might throw in a minor role even if the pay’s low.”
At the mention of being slipped in, Kang Hyeon nodded.
“The goal is to land a villainous supporting role. If that doesn’t work out, just take any role, even a minor one.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And while you’re here, let’s take some profile shots.”
Before he even finished speaking, Kang Hyeon, having just finished lunch with CEO Goo, stepped into the officetel bathroom to wash his hair. While he dried it using the dusty hair dryer tucked in a corner of the vanity and dabbed on some BB cream, CEO Goo pulled out men’s clothes from the back of a rack—clothes Kang Hyeon hadn’t even known were there.
Inside a dust-covered box was a lineup of men’s accessories.
Apparently, it was true that Goo had once trained rookie actors. Basic wardrobe and props were all prepped and ready. Kang Hyeon changed into the outfit Goo had picked out and posed for the profile photos.
While they were shooting, some visitors came to the office, but seeing there was no space to step inside, Goo pointed outside and said,
“Go wait in the front office.”
At that, Kang Hyeon’s eyes widened. He’d never been in that office, but he knew exactly who it belonged to.
“…Isn’t that Do-yeong’s office?”
“Yeah. We use it sometimes when we need a meeting room. Chief Choi said it was fine.”
“Do-yeong… isn’t coming?”
“Seems like he’s busy.”
Goo’s indifferent reply made Kang Hyeon fall silent too. Once the profile shoot was wrapped up, Goo left, saying he’d be in touch, and disappeared into the office across the hall. Kang Hyeon slipped out of the building as if he were avoiding something.
A complicated feeling welled up again, and he let out a faint sigh—but just like Goo had said, he had to protect his own connections.
At this point, even if they did meet again, it’d probably be no more than a polite hello. Things were awkward now, and there was no going back. He was the one who’d made it that way.
Kang Hyeon put in his earbuds and walked off without looking back. But a strange sensation made him turn around.
There were just a few passersby.
His gaze drifted instinctively toward the fifth floor of the Mpia building. Aside from someone in a black baseball cap passing by the window, there was nothing unusual.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He raised his heels, set them down again, then finally forced himself to walk away.
Taking the subway, he arrived back in the neighborhood of his old officetel. Pulling up a delivery app, he looked for nearby places that allowed foot delivery, did a few runs, then stopped by a convenience store to pick up a convenience meal before heading home.
He punched in the familiar passcode.
The room looked just as it had when he’d left. He hadn’t expected to return so soon, but here he was, back in less than two months.
Sitting on the neatly made bed, Kang Hyeon glanced around the room, then got up, showered, and ate dinner.
Cradling a cup of instant coffee, he sat back on the bed.
Even though he’d kept his phone far away for the past two months, he picked it up without thinking, like a habit.
Then he stared at an unsaved number’s message for a long while.
[I’ll wait.]
Just like everything else in this house had stayed the same, he too hadn’t changed one bit.
He stared at that message, unable to look away, right up until he fell asleep.
***
The sound of the café door opening made Kang Hyeon turn around.
As always, he had a cup of milk in hand to soothe his empty stomach.
“Knew it~”
Drawling the words, Baek Ga-yeong approached, stifling a yawn.
Without saying much, Kang Hyeon brewed a coffee and handed it to her—she still looked half-asleep.
“You have no idea how much I suffered while you were gone.”
“Suffered from what?”
“My mental exhaustion was so intense, I thought it was going to punch through my meninges and grind down my skull.”
“Hire a part-timer.”
“I said it was mental, didn’t I?”
Taking a sip of the iced coffee he handed over, Baek Ga-yeong swept her eyes over the neatly arranged café interior.
The rose begonia had been moved to the window.
“Why’s that thing there?”
“It needs sunlight. So, what was it that gave you such a headache?”
Lifting his milk cup casually, Kang Hyeon asked without much thought.
She gave a dry chuckle and replied like it was nothing.
“…Scheming over opening a second branch?”
“Then let it grind through your skull.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just keep worrying until we hit 100 franchise locations!”
At her words, Kang Hyeon clenched a fist in mock enthusiasm.
Grinning, Baek Ga-yeong leaned in closer.
“When does your movie premiere?”
“End of August.”
“Then we’d better shoot it now.”
“What?”
“The café ad.”
Clapping softly, she blinked rapidly like she was full of excitement.
Caught off guard by the idea of being used as a model for the café, Kang Hyeon hesitated before speaking.
“…Pick a date.”
He opened his phone and sent her CEO Goo’s number.
“He’s the CEO of Mpia. I won’t take any model fees, but the contract—”
“I’m not broke. I’ll pay you. Cheaply, of course~.”
“…”
“You need to shoot it all cute and charming and fresh, okay?”
“Is that even possible?”
“Everything’s possible. Make it happen.”
After finishing her coffee but still not fully awake, Baek Ga-yeong muttered, “Open by yourself if you can,” and disappeared into the staff room—probably to take a nap.
Kang Hyeon leisurely sipped his milk, and when the clock struck 8, he welcomed the trickle of customers coming in.
Despite saying she was going to nap, Baek Ga-yeong reemerged shortly after opening. She brewed herself another coffee and left through the back door for a delivery.
After the run, she quickly contacted CEO Goo to coordinate the model deal.
With work starting at dawn and going until 10 p.m., Kang Hyeon’s day passed in a blur.
He considered asking her how Do-yeong was doing, but since she hadn’t mentioned him at all, he kept his mouth shut.
The next day, after finishing his part-time shift, he did a hanbok photoshoot.
At the studio, CEO Goo glanced at the photographer’s shots but looked dissatisfied. He ended up snapping some candid photos himself with his own camera, directing various poses.
Afterward, he mumbled with a hint of regret.
“Such a waste of makeup…”
“Pardon?”
After a brief pause, CEO Goo called someone.
“Oh, hello, sir! Yes, this is Goo. So sorry to bother you, but Hyun came in for a shoot today. I thought maybe we could send over those pictures you asked for before. Will you be reserving a studio, or…?”
He explained further in a cautious tone.
Watching him, Lee Hyun-sook murmured while packing up,
“Oh no… he’s trying to shoot it himself again.”
Her muttering sounded more like a scolding, and Kang Hyeon blinked at her, confused.
Still on the phone, Goo kept explaining details of the shoot and then broke into a big smile.
“Yes, we’ll send you the studio photos. Absolutely!”
As soon as he hung up, he rushed both of them into the car.
Back at the office, he handed Kang Hyeon a white dress shirt and rolled out a backdrop.
“You know I take better shots than any regular studio!”
At his words, Hyun-sook instinctively grabbed the reflector, and Kang Hyeon, following instructions, stood in front of the backdrop holding a white cup.
The lights flashed, and Hyun-sook adjusted the reflector to Goo’s specifications.
“It’s for the café ad. Big, bright smile!”
“…”
“Make your eyes sweet—like you’re looking at your girlfriend.”
Kang Hyeon hadn’t expected to shoot Baek Ga-yeong’s café promo like this. He laughed awkwardly, then struck some of the poses he’d prepared in advance and smiled.
After dozens of photos, Goo immediately dove into Photoshop for color correction.
Kang Hyeon grew increasingly curious about what exactly had been discussed between Goo and Ga-yeong.
“Um, sir? Did she say anything about the concept she wants?”
“She said white shirt and white cup for easy compositing.”
Eyes still fixed on his laptop, Goo adjusted the brightness as he mumbled.
“Detailed edits can come later…”
“Just send the initial files. Some places don’t like overly edited images,” Hyun-sook said, peering at the monitor.
Goo nodded.
“Good point. The designers will tweak it anyway.”
Watching how in sync the two of them were, Kang Hyeon cautiously asked Hyun-sook,
“Do you do a lot of shoots like this?”
“It depends on the situation. This or a studio shoot—it’s all the same.”
“Right…”
He understood they were trying to save on costs, and to be fair, Goo’s photography skills were genuinely good.
Still, part of him couldn’t help wondering— Is this really okay?
