**
“What is this, seriously. Did you really have that bad a relationship with Manager Moon?”
“If you cut him, I’ll do that film they’ve been asking me to do.”
“……Ha…, this is really driving me crazy.”
Director Cha looked rattled by Sinju’s offer, rubbing his face with his hand. Sinju kept pulling out proposals he knew the man couldn’t resist.
“Oh, and I’ll do that cross-promotion thing with the new idol group too.”
“Really…?”
“Tell me what you want.”
“……For real…?”
“The Representative wanting me to have dinner with the company investors — I’ll agree to that too.”
“You said you’d rather die than do that.”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying I’ll do even that.”
“……”
When Sinju offered to do everything he’d so stubbornly refused all this time, Director Cha finally seemed to make up his mind and nodded.
“…Alright. If you really can’t stand it, there’s nothing to be done. Fine, I understand. We’ll do it your way.”
Sinju found it almost absurd watching Director Cha speak as though he were making some grave decision. It was staggering that it took an offer this substantial for the man to finally let go of Moon Heesung. How long had he even known that person, to already trust him this much?
Director Cha was practically pressing his palms together in supplication, and the rigid wall in Sinju quietly crumbled as he let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t actually misunderstand Director Cha’s position. He knew better than anyone how many managers he’d gone through. He could see the awkwardness, the difficulty of it all — but having to be closest to that man, seeing him most often, was that much more disorienting.
“I’ll fill the position fast — I’ll offer an unprecedented salary, headhunt from overseas if I have to. Just until then.”
“……”
“And either way, you two knew each other before, didn’t you.”
“……”
“Things should end on good terms. That way, neither side has any lingering regrets.”
Easy to say when you don’t know anything.
He couldn’t bring himself to scold Director Cha for being in the dark, so Sinju drew in a deep, frustrated breath. Holding out any longer would only exhaust himself too, so he decided to end the negotiation here — and gave a reluctant nod, as if he’d been worn down.
“…Find someone as fast as possible, then.”
Director Cha nodded back just as quickly at the concession. He was genuinely sorry to let Moon Heesung go, of course, but there was no helping it. The other party was the company’s biggest star, and having him agree to all those things he’d refused so many times over — it was more than a fair trade.
Director Cha stepped out of the hospital room, already dialing someone. Left alone in the spacious VIP room, Sinju sat perched on the bed, gazing out the window with a still expression. Silently convincing himself, with nothing but his own thoughts, that this was simply the right choice.
**
When the jewelry was actually recovered, Team Leader Song stared at Moon Heesung with an utterly dumbfounded expression. He’d even called in people from his own company to search and they’d come up empty — so Team Leader Song had already suspected someone had stolen it. But that was only a suspicion, and it had never crossed his mind that someone blinded by the value of something priceless would turn around and hand it back. Yet the man standing before him had been certain of it. From the very beginning. How?
“…How did you do it?”
Having lost the bet, Team Leader Song stood dutifully in front of the hospital room where Sinju was said to be admitted, eyeing Moon Heesung — who was standing guard at the door — with open skepticism. The result was clear, he’d lost fair and square, so he’d come to see Sinju without complaint. But more than Sinju’s unpleasant attitude, what truly rankled him was that certainty and composure in this man who had actually come through on it. An arrogant expression that said the winner had been decided from the start. Even a blank face — that was how it read to Team Leader Song.
“Did you see someone take it?”
When he pressed again at the silence, Moon Heesung let out a barely audible, irritated sigh and rubbed the corner of his eye.
“Does that matter.”
His manner said: you found it, what more is there to say — and Team Leader Song, knowing he wasn’t wrong, pressed his lips shut. Right. It was a relief they’d found it. He’d called in specialists to check for damage, but fortunately there wasn’t so much as a small scratch.
“…Are you going in or not.”
Moon Heesung gripped the hospital room door and asked in a tone that was far from polite. Team Leader Song wasn’t the least bit keen on it, but he’d carelessly said something he shouldn’t have, so he gave a nod. When the incident had reached his superior’s ears, he’d been chewed out for over an hour. In this industry, no matter what blunder or rudeness occurred, the client was always the high-value model — and regardless of reputation, Sinju was a model who commanded that value.
“I’m going in. Don’t worry.”
At Team Leader Song’s answer, Moon Heesung knocked on the hospital room door and, without even waiting for a reply, shoved it open. Inside, Sinju sat on the hospital bed, eyes indifferently fixed on a script. More precisely — the composed sight of Sinju not even turning his gaze toward the door.
“…Hello.”
Team Leader Song set a fruit basket the size of a grown man on the nearby shelf and bowed deeply, swallowing his embarrassment. But no answer came back, only the sound of script pages turning. The perfect dismissal made Team Leader Song scrunch his face, head still bowed, wearing an expression of defeat. But he didn’t give up — he put on his most professional smile and opened his mouth again.
“I came rushing the moment I heard you’d been hospitalized.”
Moon Heesung, who had followed him in, stood by the door watching it all unfold.
“I brought this as a gift… I do hope you’ll try some.”
The domineering figure from before was nowhere to be found — Team Leader Song groveled in the most pitiful way imaginable. He told himself it was the karma he deserved. Even if the jewelry hadn’t been found, if things had escalated between the companies, he’d have been pressured by his superiors into coming to apologize to Sinju regardless.
“I… first of all, what happened at the shoot the other day — I behaved inexcusably.”
Sinju still hadn’t looked up, eyes glued to the script. Moon Heesung watched him, his refusal to treat the other person as a person laid completely bare.
“Even if the bet with the manager hadn’t happened, I had… intended to come and apologize.”
The cold sweat was audible in Team Leader Song’s voice. Filled with shame and humiliation, he worked to keep it from showing and pressed on toward the unresponsive man before him.
“I am truly sorry. My handling of the situation was inadequate. No matter how flustered I was, it was inexcusable — I let myself get carried away and made a mistake. I am truly sorry.”
Team Leader Song bowed again, so deeply his forehead nearly reached the floor. Still, the other party said nothing. The faintest crack began to form in Moon Heesung’s composure. Team Leader Song broke into a cold sweat, still bent at the waist, unable to straighten up. The image of his superior’s furious command — don’t even think about coming back unless Sinju accepts your apology — flashed through his mind, leaving him with no room to flee.
“……”
A long silence settled heavily over the uncomfortable hospital room. And then, not long after, Sinju finally lifted his eyes from the script and snapped it shut with a sharp slap.
“So.”
His mouth opened at last. Blood rushed to Team Leader Song’s face, turning it a deep red.
“Are you just going to stay like that?”
Sinju tilted his head and threw the words at him with a puzzled expression. Team Leader Song cautiously raised his head and murmured, “Pardon…?” — and Sinju looked down at him with that arrogant expression, pointing at Team Leader Song’s knees.
“That.”
The moment Team Leader Song realized the finger was directed at his own knees, his expression slowly hardened.
“You said you’d kneel.”
Sinju cocked his head to the side and looked down at him. There was a rigidity there that said he wouldn’t back down under any circumstances, and Team Leader Song squeezed his eyes shut. Right — the terms of the bet were that he would kneel. That wasn’t wrong. Even so, kneeling — the act of destroying one’s dignity as a human being — wasn’t something Team Leader Song could bring himself to do easily. He knew he had to, and yet he hesitated — and at the sight of that wavering, Sinju let out a cold, flat exhale.
“Your company really is something else. Nothing to it.”
“……”
“Not enough that you ran your mouth at a contracted model like you owned the place — now you’re not holding up your end of the deal either. My trust just dropped through the floor.”
“…I, that’s….”
“Tell your Representative we’re revisiting the contract.”
“I — I — Sinju — no, Yoo — Actor Yoo! No. I’ll — I’ll kneel.”
Having even the contract review come up now, on top of the jewelry already being found — if that got back to the Representative, Team Leader Song would be fired on the spot. More than enough grounds. He shook his head frantically, waving his hands in a panic. His face a mask of alarm, he began to fold at the knees. Just as he was clearly about to drop and kneel — he felt something grab him by the back of the neck with considerable force. Yanked backward, he stumbled into an awkward stance and turned his head, wide-eyed.
“…What……”
Realizing he was being held up by the hand of the manager who stood a full head taller than him, Team Leader Song blinked with a dazed expression.
“That’s far enough.”
The manager said it lightly. At that moment, a twitch ran through the eye of Sinju, who had been expressionless as a wax figure until then.
“…Who told you to step in.”
The gaze turned on Moon Heesung was colder than the one Sinju had directed at Team Leader Song. Team Leader Song’s body flinched on its own at that look. The glare was full of contempt and disdain — it made Team Leader Song break out in a cold sweat on reflex — and yet the one it was aimed at, Moon Heesung himself, didn’t so much as flinch before responding.
“I found it, so I think my effort deserves its share.”
“Wasn’t this something you started?”
“I started it, so I figure I can end it too.”
The atmosphere had gone from icy to downright glacial, and Team Leader Song quietly slipped back a step. Sinju was well known for that kind of razor-sharp chill — but what was even more remarkable was the manager’s nerve, standing his ground without giving an inch.
