When he asked out of genuine curiosity, Director Ji Seok-woo pushed his glasses up and stared intently at Kang Hyeon. Gazing quietly into Kang Hyeon’s uneasy eyes, the director finally spoke.
“It wasn’t me who made the decision. But when I read this script, there was one specific scene I immediately pictured. The male lead, unaware that the female lead had worked up the courage to confess, stands in a snow-covered field. She grabs him, and he looks back at her—confused but with such tender eyes. I saw that look in you, Kang Hyeon. As for the rest…”
Director Ji trailed off, his expression showing dissatisfaction as he continued.
“Everyone else seems to like you. Director Yoo and Writer Oh, in particular. Even Hoon said your acting was stable.”
At the mention of “Hoon,” Kang Hyeon’s eyes widened. His former agency’s CEO had been named Kang Hoon. The idea that he’d spoken well of him was surprising enough, but then Director Ji’s next words left Kang Hyeon visibly flustered.
“They say you’re a tsundere. Please bring that out in your performance.”
With that dry remark, Ji Seok-woo reached out for a handshake. Kang Hyeon clasped both hands around his and bowed politely. It was clear the director wasn’t fully sold on him, but since Director Yoo and Writer Oh were pushing for him, and the feedback from others hadn’t been bad, he seemed to reluctantly accept Kang Hyeon as Kang I-chan for now. Still, Kang Hyeon’s heart started to beat with nervous uncertainty.
Could a lead actor really pull it off if the director wasn’t convinced?
After the director left, Kang Hyeon followed CEO Goo Seong-do out of the EnterK offices. Just then, someone from the glass-walled conference room across the hall waved him over.
“Hyeon-ah!”
At the cheerful call, he turned his head. Inside, seated at the back of the room, was a senior theater actress he respected greatly. She smiled and beckoned.
“Sunbae.”
“What role did you land? Everyone in here’s already been cast.”
“Ah… Kang I-chan.”
“Kang I-chan? The lead?”
At her question, everyone inside the room turned to look. Some were familiar faces; others he didn’t recognize.
A few looked bewildered to hear he was the lead, while others offered congratulations with kind smiles.
“I’m playing your secretary.”
The sunbae laughed heartily and gave him a firm pat on the back. Surprised by how happy he felt, Kang Hyeon instinctively grabbed her shoulder in return, a relieved grin forming on his lips.
“So who’s the female lead?”
“Yeah, who’s playing Kwon Ji-sang?”
Someone else chimed in, but no one had an answer. They simply looked at one another. Even if someone had mentioned a name, it didn’t seem like anyone would’ve recognized it. Kang Hyeon had heard from CEO Goo who the female lead might be, but he kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t even sure it was set in stone himself, and the uncertainty made his shoulders slump a bit.
While they chatted about this and that, an EnterK staff member brought them snacks. They exchanged contact info and even started an open group chat, where everyone shared stories and bonded. Being around other lesser-known actors made Kang Hyeon genuinely want to be a part of the project.
If he were just a supporting role or a cameo, there’d be no chance of being replaced. If he were cast as the villain Kwon Ji-sang, he might even do better. He could do better…
But he buried that lingering regret deep inside and headed home. Sitting at the table, he slowly read through the script and the summarized shooting draft. As he made his way through the first three episodes, it became clear that the role of Kang I-chan was far more charismatic than he’d expected. His lines, though delivered with a seemingly indifferent tone, were sharp and even aggressive.
Continuing his character analysis, he eventually walked over to the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. Looking at himself, Kang Hyeon let out a soft sigh. No matter how he looked at it, he still seemed lacking in so many ways. Director Yoo Ji-ha’s words suddenly echoed in his head.
“Director Ji is particular about appearances. I think you should bulk up a bit. You’re getting outshined too easily…”
Thinking about the average male lead in a romance drama, it was obvious his frame was on the smaller side. Playing a company CEO meant he had to look good in a suit—he’d definitely need to polish his appearance more.
“Well… working out can’t hurt.”
He started slathering on sunscreen before his food delivery shifts and made a habit of running from place to place. At home, he did push-ups, squats, and crunches whenever he had a spare moment. One day, after a long sigh and flipping through the script, he suddenly felt stifled and stepped outside. Though it was a sweltering summer night, he ran a lap around the neighborhood. When he finally came to a stop under a streetlamp, his breath ragged, he muttered to himself,
“Haah… I’m seriously going crazy.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, all the anxiety he’d been trying to suppress burst forth like fireworks. Deep, heavy sighs kept spilling out, and he felt like his insides were drying up. Emotions he’d buried deep in his memory, pushed down into some hidden corner of his chest, suddenly started bubbling up. Sharp, biting unease and dread rose to the surface.
He’d been replaced before—if it happened again, he could accept it. He could handle it.
Clenching his jaw, he repeated the words to himself.
It’s fine. It’s fine.
Even if it happens again, it’s not like it’s someone from his own agency. It’s not like the role’s going to someone he’s in love with…
Trying to calm himself, Kang Hyeon suddenly crumpled to the ground, overwhelmed with self-loathing.
If it were someone like Do-yeong—with his looks and acting ability—it’d at least make sense. No, if it were someone even moderately well-known, they’d be much better for promotional purposes too. Even if casting was through auditions, there were so many talented, experienced actors out there—so why him?
What was that look Director Ji mentioned? Confused but filled with emotion?
He couldn’t even remember how he’d acted during the audition. With no faith in himself, Kang Hyeon gave a bitter laugh. His thoughts refused to settle, tangled and chaotic. He kept repeating that it was fine, and eventually his breathing steadied. He got back on his feet and started running again. The summer heat weighed on him, every breath searing his lungs, but he ran and ran.
Each passing day made him more anxious. Sometimes he felt so hopeless, it was like he’d given up on everything. But even then, he never stopped analyzing the character or going over the script in detail. The more he focused on the role, the more melancholy he felt—so he worked out harder.
In the midst of that mental chaos, Baek Ga-yeong went on an extended summer vacation in August, and he picked up shifts at her café. The days flew by so quickly that before he knew it, the film Intersection Murder was released.
For the premiere screening, his grandfather and Grandma Eun-young came all the way to Seoul. He accompanied them to the theater with Baek Ga-yeong. When she arrived, Grandma Eun-young’s face lit up with a bright smile.
“Oh my~ So this is our pretty granddaughter-in-law.”
“Grandma, noona is the owner of the café I work at.”
“Please take good care of our Hyeon.”
At Kang Hyeon’s flustered correction, Grandpa even bowed to Baek Ga-yeong.
“Elders~ It’s me who has to stay in Hyeon’s good graces. You saw the ad for my café, right? If this movie and the next drama become hits, it’ll be amazing promotion for my place~.”
True to her bubbly nature, Baek Ga-yeong chatted happily with them while munching on popcorn. She took photos of them and even snapped a selfie with him. Under her guidance, the four of them made finger hearts, and she got a passerby to take their picture. Declaring she’d plaster the café walls with it, she snapped pictures from every angle.
In Intersection Murder, every role except the lead had been played by relatively unknown actors, but their performances were strong, making the film feel incredibly immersive. Kang Hyeon tried to stay focused, but the moment he appeared onscreen, he felt awkward. Still, he quickly refocused—until a scene popped up he didn’t even remember filming.
He was in the background, watching other actors perform. Looking at his phone, he smiled, then turned to walk away, stepping backward. He figured it must’ve been right before heading over to greet the staff after reading a message from Yoon Do-yeong.
He hadn’t expected such a scene to be included and kept watching, flustered. The expression on his face as he read Do-yeong’s message was so vivid, it felt unfamiliar—almost like watching someone else.
After the screening, as they left the theater, his grandfather subtly approached a young couple nearby and spoke with polite pride.
“My grandson played that murderer.”
“Oh my!”
“He’s the one. That murderer in the movie.”
Startled, the couple glanced toward Kang Hyeon as Grandpa pointed at him proudly. Embarrassed, he bowed his head slightly in greeting. That prompted someone who recognized him to ask for a photo, so he took pictures with audience members in front of the movie poster. Afterwards, he saw his grandparents off in a taxi to Eun-young’s daughter’s house. Since they’d come up to Seoul anyway, her second daughter had promised to take them to the aquarium the next day.
He’d wanted to invite Grandpa to his officetel, but Grandma Eun-young insisted it’d be a hassle to split up, dragging him along instead. Grandpa followed along without resistance, like it was the most natural thing in the world. That was when Kang Hyeon realized just how close the two of them were, and how comfortably they got along with her family—more than he’d ever imagined. Even as their grandson, he knew so little about his grandfather.
Before the taxi left, he gave both of them a big hug. Grandpa seemed embarrassed, but Grandma Eun-young laughed out loud and hugged him back tightly. He stood there watching until the taxi disappeared from view, then turned on his phone to transfer some money to Grandpa’s account. That’s when a new message arrived—and the moment he read it, Kang Hyeon’s eyes flickered ever so slightly.
