He got out of the shower, dried his hair, and got dressed. He straightened his clothes, sat down on the bedroom sofa, and took a deep breath. He carefully typed out a message — letter by letter — expressing his gratitude and letting them know he was available for a call anytime, then sent it.
The moment he hit the send button, a call came in.
“Hello.”
― Oh, hello. This is Sun Ye-eun, the casting coordinator.
The word actor — being addressed as one — made Hwi-gyeom’s cheekbones rise. He couldn’t contain his smile. He was endlessly grateful to be alone right now. If his sponsors had seen him like this, they would have thought something had gotten into him.
“Hello. This is Jeong Hwi-gyeom.”
― First of all, congratulations again on passing the final round. When I was watching the audition footage, I honestly thought Da-on had just showed up himself.
“Is that so.”
He had thought he’d done a pretty good job acting, but hearing it praised like this made his chest tingle. Hwi-gyeom did his best to keep his voice as calm as possible. One wrong move and he felt like he’d burst out laughing.
― We’re so happy to be working with you. I actually thought that after filming our project, it might become very hard to have you on board again.
So this was the power of looks. Nothing about his core had changed. Hwi-gyeom had always given everything he had at every audition, same as before. He felt happy — and just a little bitter.
― Even after you make it big someday, you have to remember that you worked with us.
“Of course.”
It was his first leading role. He would probably never forget it for the rest of his life. It was also the project that would introduce him to the public for the very first time.
“What does the schedule look like from here?”
― We’re hoping to have a first meeting this week — when would you be available?
At Ye-eun’s words, Hwi-gyeom let his eyes wander. He didn’t have any particular schedule. He just never knew when his sponsors might reach out.
“I’m free anytime.”
― Would sometime Thursday morning work for you? Around 11 a.m.?
“Yes.”
― Our production office is in Gangnam. Would meeting at the office be alright?
“Yes. That works perfectly.”
Gangnam was near his officetel. At Hwi-gyeom’s easy, straightforward answers, Ye-eun’s voice rose noticeably.
― Thank you. Then I’ll schedule the meeting for Thursday morning at 11 a.m. at our office. I’ll send you the address by text. That day, we’ll also go over the contract details together.
“Will we be signing the contract as well?”
― Yes. So, with that in mind, please bring a copy of your ID.
“Understood.”
― I also noticed from your application that you’re with PP Entertainment. We’ll be reaching out to them separately on our end.
“Thank you.”
Even though Ye-eun wasn’t actually standing in front of him, Hwi-gyeom gave a polite nod as he said goodbye.
― There’ll also be a brief meeting with the director and the writer on the day. Once the schedule is confirmed, I’ll send you another text today with all the details.
“Yes, understood. I’ll see you Thursday.”
― Congratulations once again. Take care.
“Yes.”
Having finished the call, Hwi-gyeom leaned his back against the sofa and tilted his head back. The elaborate ceiling light sparkled above him. He clenched his fist. It was finally beginning.
Someday, I have to make it big enough to book a room like this with money I earned myself. I have to become an actor who keeps getting scripts. If I ever get fans, I really have to do right by them.
His head was full of thoughts and resolves. He had no expectations about the appearance fee. He was a rookie, and whatever the amount, he was certain the president of his agency would take it all before it ever reached his hands.
Hwi-gyeom reached into his inner pocket. His fingertips touched stiff paper. Maybe I should do a little shopping.
The body’s owner had an extremely modest wardrobe. Most of the clothes were in neutral, achromatic tones, and a few showed signs of wear here and there.
Hwi-gyeom lifted his arm. Expensive clothes really are different. But showing up to the meeting in this suit would be too much. Better to keep this one safely stored away and buy some clothes in a more reasonable price range.
He grabbed his key card and bag, left the room, and checked out at the lobby. He’d been worried there might be extra charges, but the front desk staff actually looked puzzled as to why he was checking out so early — and cautiously asked if something about the service had been unsatisfactory. Hwi-gyeom shook his head.
From what he gathered, it seemed Seo-jin had paid through the following day. If I’d known, I might’ve stayed a little longer — he felt a brief pang of regret, but since he’d already checked out, he pushed the feeling aside and walked out of the hotel.
Out on the street, the eyes of countless passersby were drawn to Hwi-gyeom. Understandably so. He was already someone who stood out on looks alone, and right now he was wearing a suit that would have been perfectly at home at a high-end party.
Fortunately, his bag had been with the suit — but the clothes he’d originally been wearing were nowhere to be found. Had they been thrown away? He briefly wondered if the clothing had been included in that five million won. Still, he was glad to at least have his bag.
Hwi-gyeom pulled out his phone and searched for nearby shopping malls. He went to one, bought some clothes in a reasonable price range, and by the time he got home, both hands were full of shopping bags.
He was grunting as he pushed the door open — and caught the smell of delicious ramyeon.
Hwi-gyeom froze mid-step, one shoe half off.
Does this place have a roommate? No.
Has he given anyone the door code? No.
His expression hardened. Hwi-gyeom quietly set the shopping bags down by the entrance. He had no idea who was inside. Even the body’s owner had never, under any circumstances, shared the door code with his agency president or manager. This place was the only space where the body’s owner could get even a brief moment of rest.
Yi-hyun had come to the apartment once before, but even then, Hwi-gyeom had asked him to close his eyes while he punched in the code — convinced that giving it to him would spell disaster.
Could it be a burglar?
He frantically looked around and spotted a shoehorn, grabbing it. His palms were drenched in sweat. He gripped the shoehorn with both hands and crept inside.
Slurp. The sound of someone eating ramyeon was boisterous.
The sound was coming from the kitchen. Hwi-gyeom swallowed hard. There was a massive figure in front of the two-person dining table. One leg propped up on the chair, slurping ramyeon — the posture looked incredibly comfortable.
“Baby’s home.”
Hwi-gyeom froze at the familiar voice, shoehorn still in hand. He stayed like that, motionless, until Ha-seok turned his head. Spotting Hwi-gyeom’s ridiculous state, Ha-seok threw his head back and laughed loudly.
“Don’t tell me you were planning to hit your hyung with that? Wow — out of everything that’s happened this year, this is the funniest thing yet.”
Then he turned back around and went right back to eating. The ramyeon that Hwi-gyeom lived on was disappearing at an alarming rate.
“H-how are you here…”
Ha-seok’s attitude was so brazen that anyone watching would have thought this was his apartment, not Hwi-gyeom’s. The one who had sneaked into someone else’s home was Ha-seok — yet somehow, Hwi-gyeom was the one who felt awkward.
“Surprise gift.”
Ha-seok shrugged as he said it, and Hwi-gyeom’s cheeks quivered. He barely managed to keep his brow from furrowing. His modest little plan for the evening — putting away his new purchases and ordering delivery — had been thrown off course.
Still, he couldn’t kick Ha-seok out. More than anything, he was genuinely unsettled by the fact that Ha-seok had somehow figured out a code he’d never been given.
“Don’t just stand there gawking, come sit down. Eating alone just kills the appetite, you know.”
For someone with no appetite, he seemed to be eating just fine.
Hwi-gyeom reined in the words about to slip out and went to sit across from Ha-seok. He had no idea where Ha-seok had found it, but deep in the cupboard was a large pot — filled to the brim with ramyeon. It looked like he’d boiled at least five packs.
It had been made recently enough that steam was still curling up from it. The moment Hwi-gyeom laid eyes on the ramyeon, his mouth began to water.
He’d walked around the shopping mall with such enthusiasm that he was now starving. The last thing he’d eaten was brunch back in the hotel room. Current time: 8 p.m. His stomach was thoroughly empty.
