Director Kang, who read that clause upside down, answered nonchalantly.
“Ah, that? It’s nothing.”
“…….”
“It’s a non-disclosure agreement, so everyone gets scared for no reason, but it means that the private life of your assigned actor—in other words, what you see and hear—must not leak outside. But I think this is a basic trust issue between people. Don’t you think? What would be the reason for having to insert such a basic trust issue into a written pledge?”
“I’ll be careful.”
“There’s a truckload of bastards who aren’t.”
Seungun finished signing the final non-disclosure agreement as well.
“Oh right, a while ago a blood letter was delivered addressed to Gi actor.”
“Pardon? A blood letter?”
Seungun’s eyes widened like a rabbit’s. However, Director Kang looked strangely unconcerned.
“So pay especially close attention.”
“Yes. I understand.”
He was organizing and handing over the signed contract when suddenly the conference room door burst open.
“Hello, Director Kang-nim!”
“Oh, Myeongwoo’s here.”
Seungun rose from his seat awkwardly.
“Is the interview over?”
“Almost done. This is….”
“Hello. I’m Im Seungun.”
“So glad to see you again! I really liked this guy, you know!”
Myeongwoo’s eyes lit up toward Seungun. Seungun grasped the large hand that was suddenly thrust out.
“I’m Lee Myeongwoo. Let’s work well together from now on.”
Myeongwoo patted Seungun’s back heavily as if meeting an old junior. Seungun rubbed his stinging back as he continued listening to Director Kang’s explanation.
“Myeongwoo is the kind of guy who’d believe you and eat it even if you gave him kelp soup and called it seaweed soup. Anyway, he’ll be easy to work with.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to play golf with Director Song, so you do your work.”
“Then have a good trip!”
Myeongwoo seemed happy that a new rookie had come in under him, constantly chuckling. Lee Myeongwoo was ordinary. His face was ordinary, his height was ordinary, his build was ordinary. However, his energetic atmosphere and loud voice matched his cheerful face very well. He talked so much that from leaving the conference room to heading to the common stairs, he didn’t rest his mouth for even a moment. Seungun felt like his ears might bleed a little.
“I have three younger brothers, you see? Right now the youngest is in middle school.”
“…….”
“Because of that, whenever I see kids younger than me, I just painfully recall my brothers back home. A while ago it was my second brother’s birthday so we met. That kid has tremendous pride in the fact that I’m Gi Siyoung’s manager, isn’t it funny? Who does he think he is. I can’t give up this manager job even just thinking of my brother.”
“I heard Siyoung-ssi is in an interview, are we going there now?”
“Yeah. Our office is over there too, so let’s go kill two birds with one stone. It’ll be over soon. While we’re at it, I’ll also give you your access card and show you Seungun’s office spot.”
*Beep.*
When they entered after scanning the access card, a clean hallway appeared. Myeongwoo approached the glass door at the very back. Standing tall in that spot, he looked somewhere and smiled contentedly.
“Wow, the salon really did an amazing job dressing him up today.”
Myeongwoo muttered. Seungun, who turned his gaze that way, agreed in silence. That face that had been attached to the outer wall of this building. That handsome face was beyond the glass door. Until today, he’d never thought he’d see him up close.
There are such people. People who can never live quietly even if they want to. People whose afterimage remains vividly for a long time once you see them. An atmosphere that cannot be possessed by simply having a handsome face. From his head to his toes, there was an indescribable arrogant, dark, shadowy atmosphere. People went wild for it.
Usually actors who debuted as child actors have some handicap. They either lose their childhood image or conversely can’t escape the shadow of being a child actor. If they have physical limitations, it creates obstacles in role selection.
But not Gi Siyoung. Appearance, height, proportions. He seized everything. Everything he filmed was a sensation. He swept awards every year at film festivals, award ceremonies, and such, then was nominated for the grand prize category at the youngest age.
Running on a smooth path, he defied people’s expectations and started theater with renowned veteran actors in the country, saying he wanted to study acting more. Fortune chased only Gi Siyoung’s tail this time too. He soared through the theater world. The plays he participated in swept the Best Production, Best Direction, Technical, and Artistic awards, and finally received the Excellence Award at prestigious award ceremonies.
That year, even actors who played very small roles in the plays Gi Siyoung participated in gained the opportunity to make their names known by catching the eyes of commercial film and drama directors who came to see Gi Siyoung. For theater actors suffering from financial hardship, Gi Siyoung was nothing less than a lifeline sent from heaven.
Gi Siyoung was truly on a high-flying streak with every step he took. Praise was abundant in other fields too. When he even received a presidential commendation for fulfilling his duty as a taxpayer, people gave admiring praise, saying that even succeeding at a young age, he could grow up so well without greed for money.
“Do you have a favorite among Siyoung’s filmography? You must have watched at least one.”
Seungun pondered silently before speaking quietly.
“I don’t remember the title… The one where he appeared as a prince in a historical drama.”
“Ah, that one. Keu. Yeah, right. There was that too. That’s what he filmed when he just turned twenty. I became Siyoung’s manager and then watched all his filmography in chronological order. It felt like watching him grow in real-time, so later I really approached him with the feeling that we’d gotten close. That’s why he really hated me at first, said I was burdensome.”
Everyone has a star they hold in their heart. Even if they’re not aware of it, they must have held one at least once. Seungun was properly imprinted by actor Gi Siyoung in a drama he watched a few years ago. The *dopo* that fluttered every time he walked suited his tall height very well, but he didn’t notice until the drama ended that the *gat* was decorated with splendid beads.
Gi Siyoung’s face was that much more splendid than the accessories. That face in real life, not on screen, made him feel like being sucked into an endless black hole.
Gi Siyoung wielded his weapons well. It was the same now. You could tell from the eyes of the editor equipped with notebook and pen.
The lips through which that pleasant voice would flow seemed painted with a brush. Long fingers lightly rubbing his overlapped kneecaps. His hands with silver jewelry fitted on each smooth joint were like a noble crane. Every single one of his expressions, movements, and gestures during the interview was like a scene from a movie. Saying it felt unreal was the right expression.
“…….”
It was then that Seungun, who’d been staring blankly, suddenly came to his senses. Their gazes brushed past like lightning. It was just an instant, but his body became paralyzed with a tingle as if caught in a snare. The different light in those pupils that brushed past briefly seemed to have nothing to fear in the world. While he was briefly lost in thought, Myeongwoo touched his elbow.
“It’s over.”
He’d thought he was captivated, but the gaze had long since fallen away. He’d been charmed alone by the briefly met gaze. Myeongwoo opened the glass door wide and entered. The meeting room where the interview had taken place smelled good. When Gi Siyoung stood up from the sofa, the good smell wafted more strongly. Seungun unconsciously twitched his nose.
Gi Siyoung was taller and bigger than when seen on screen. The fingertips of the editor and photographer exchanging a final handshake with him were strangely flushed.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“You worked hard.”
Formal greetings were exchanged. Myeongwoo blocked the interviewers from somehow exchanging even one private word with Gi Siyoung while clearing up. Soon they left the meeting room.
Now the distance with Gi Siyoung had gotten even closer. His heart quietly began to pound. It was truly fascinating that a person he’d only seen on television was right in front of his nose. Even though he’d decided not to show it, his gaze kept going there naturally.
“Oh right, say hello. This is the new manager.”
Myeongwoo announced Seungun’s presence. Gi Siyoung was in the middle of drinking water while crunching a water bottle. His sharp eyes, half-closed, swept over Seungun. Seungun bowed his head before Gi Siyoung even finished drinking his water.
“Hello. I’ll be taking on the road manager position starting today.”
“…….”
No answer came back. Instead, beyond his bowed head, the sound of the plastic bottle being crushed—*ba-deuk*—was sharp. When he only lifted his gaze to look, Gi Siyoung crushed the water bottle flat with one hand and threw it into the trash can. The trash can was next to Seungun’s knee.
With a *clatter*, the lid spun around 360 degrees, then slowly stopped. When he straightened his bent waist, Gi Siyoung was smiling. It wasn’t a particularly bright-looking smile.
Dopo (도포) – Traditional Korean outer robe worn by men
Gat (갓) – Traditional Korean hat for men
