**
Moon Heesung stepped out into the living room and checked the time without moving an inch. According to the schedule he’d been handed, there was just over an hour left until filming. But the gaze checking the time carried not a single trace of impatience — utterly composed. From inside the bedroom, still, not a sound. He had never once thought it would be easy, not with someone who even had the Representative at his wit’s end. Just as he was about to head back into the bedroom, the phone tucked inside his coat buzzed.
“Hello.”
— How’s it going?
The caller was Director Cha. His voice was fairly bright. Moon Heesung caught the meaning of the blunt question instantly, glanced once toward Yoo Sinju’s bedroom, and answered loosely.
“Just, as expected.”
— It won’t be easy.
“I know.”
— And my nerves aren’t exactly settled either, having left it to you.
For someone saying that, his voice didn’t sound too bad. It seemed he was quite pleased that Moon Heesung had succeeded in yesterday’s mission.
“I know that too.”
But whether it was still nagging at him to leave work in the hands of an ex-convict, the call felt like a check-in meant to keep him on his toes — and Moon Heesung answered without resistance.
— But I’m not that difficult a person.
“Yes.”
— Just keep one thing.
“…….”
— Our Sinju. Just don’t let him get hurt.
“Yes. I know.”
— He’s our company’s top asset. Carefully. Preciously. Of course, when it’s truly necessary it can’t be helped — but getting hurt is absolutely off the table. Absolutely.
Moon Heesung, who had been answering dutifully, hesitated for a moment. He and Director Cha had similar goals — but the nature of them seemed different. The other man seemed to want to diligently refine a product, but Moon Heesung did not.
“May I set one condition as well?”
— …You?
The out-of-nowhere condition made Director Cha pause briefly. The word “condition” coming from a man who had said he needed neither pay nor anything else — it seemed to puzzle him.
— Yes. Go ahead.
“Watch your words in front of me.”
— Pardon…?
“I want to make Sinju into a person. Not a product.”
— ……Ha.
The unexpected statement drew a baffled exhale from Director Cha.
— Really…, you’re an interesting person in all sorts of ways.
“…….”
— ……Fine. If that’s what you want, I can do at least that much.
“Yes. Then.”
Having gotten the answer he wanted, Moon Heesung hung up immediately and threw open the bedroom door. Sure enough, as if he’d been waiting for him to come back in, Yoo Sinju was lying in bed watching TV on the wall-mounted screen. Leisurely kicking his feet.
“What kind of manager just keeps throwing the door open like that.”
The flustered look from before was nowhere to be found — Yoo Sinju was acting brazenly. If anything, he looked like he was provoking him, daring him to try something. Moon Heesung opened his mouth with no sign of surprise, as though he’d expected exactly this.
“Wash up.”
“I’m not going today.”
“…….”
“Contact the filming team for me. Tell them my condition isn’t good.”
“…….”
“That’s why I kept saying not to schedule shoots this early.”
Yoo Sinju rolled around on the bed and spoke with complete nonchalance. He looked entirely accustomed to situations like this. In the meantime, Moon Heesung’s phone buzzed briefly. He checked it — a message from the road manager who had been waiting downstairs for quite a while now.
[Manager… you absolutely have to bring him out. This shoot has already been pushed twice, if it falls through again today it’ll be a disaster. Please, I’m begging you ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ If you think it’s not going to work, please let me know in advance. I’ll have to reach out to Director Cha again……]
A thoroughly desperate message. Essentially saying that if he couldn’t get him out, something very, very bad would happen.
“I’m only going to say things three times from here on out.”
Stuffing the phone back into his pocket, Moon Heesung spoke with a face that looked like it wouldn’t bleed even if you stabbed him. Yoo Sinju, who had been looking ahead and ignoring him, scoffed.
“You’re actually hilarious. Who do you think you are.”
“Your manager.”
“I can fire a manager with one phone call.”
“I’m only going to say things three times.”
“Hey.”
“Wash up.”
“Hey!”
“Wash up. That’s three.”
“You little——”
Yoo Sinju was already fuming at Moon Heesung, who didn’t so much as blink at his threats. Being confronted by someone showing up out of nowhere claiming to be his manager was infuriating enough — but that utterly shameless, flip-it-back-on-you attitude was grating on Yoo Sinju’s nerves raw.
“How dare you think you can order me around——ugh!”
Before Yoo Sinju could even finish, furious as he was, Moon Heesung grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. The surprise of it lasted only a moment — the next instant Yoo Sinju was horrified by the ease with which he was being dragged along, and he thrashed, staring at Moon Heesung with a stupefied expression.
“You… you, right now——!”
The scruff of my neck? He’s grabbing me by the scruff of my neck? And dragging me? You’re dragging me? Me, Yoo Sinju? Me, who even the company Representative doesn’t dare touch recklessly — me, with over fifty million followers — me, who even the top directors in the industry grovel to — me? Me?
“Hey, hey, hey—… you, are you gonna let go or not? Are you gonna let go?!”
Yoo Sinju stood at nearly 190 centimeters, body honed by constant training to a degree that had female fans losing their minds — nothing short of perfect. He was someone who towered over every hotshot out there, someone who could make even seasoned bodyguards freeze with his physical presence. Being dragged around like a dog like this was something he hadn’t even been able to imagine.
“Hey!”
Whether Yoo Sinju thrashed and screamed or not, Moon Heesung dragged him into the bathroom inside the bedroom and unceremoniously dumped him there before turning on the showerhead. Hit with a sudden torrent of water all at once, Yoo Sinju sputtered, blinking wide-eyed and struggling.
“You, what is this— pfah, ugh— ah!”
“Let me wash you then.”
“Ah, it’s cold! Cold!”
“For the record, cold showers are good for your health.”
“Are you actually insane?!”
“I told you.”
Yoo Sinju glared at Moon Heesung with bloodshot eyes, soaked to the bone like a drowned rat. This was a first. This kind of treatment. This utterly absurd treatment… Yoo Sinju’s hands trembled as he stared Moon Heesung down like he wanted to kill him. And of all people, you… You, who should be on your knees apologizing the moment you see me. How dare you, to me…..
But even under that seething, cursing glare, Moon Heesung added simply.
“I said I’d only say it three times.”
At the same moment he reached out to remove the soaked clothing. Yoo Sinju crossed his arms over his chest as though determined to defend that one thing, and shouted.
“Shut up and get out!”
**
Road manager Shim Yanggu, who had been anxiously waiting in front of the first-floor villa entrance for a full hour since the new manager’s message telling him to wait there, sat in the driver’s seat jiggling his leg and kept darting glances at the villa entrance. Accounting for traffic, they needed to leave right about now to barely make it on time. After two no-shows already, the filming director’s patience had long since worn thin. If today fell through as well, the fallout would land squarely on the company staff.
Half a year since he’d been assigned to him. Shim Yanggu had done just about everything there was to do because of his assigned actor. There had been stretches of 48 hours without sleep, going down on his knees to smooth things over was par for the course, and clasping his hands together and begging had happened more than once. It had only been half a year, but Shim Yanggu had already grown used to all of that.
The most terrifying thing was his actor missing schedules. Because of what came after. When the assigned actor bailed, the arrows of blame flew toward those who attended to him. No one could say a word to an actor at the top of the industry. Whether it was a film, a drama, or a commercial — if the lead actor said he couldn’t do it, it was over. The money lost in a single day ranged from tens of millions to hundreds of millions of won. And all of that was at the mercy of that actor’s mood, his whim. The reason that kind of outrageous behavior was tolerated was because the revenue brought in by his commercials, dramas, and films was just as outrageous. Dozens, hundreds of people had no choice but to cater to his every mood.
Managing that kind of person was his job — so Shim Yanggu, barely in his early twenties, was already experiencing hair loss. Even so, he couldn’t quit, because of the salary and benefits that were absurdly high compared to his peers. Supporting a sick mother at a young age, Shim Yanggu had to hold onto this job even with a knife at his throat.
It was hard, but his livelihood depended on it, so he had to endure. And yet — entrusting that lifeline to a man he’d never seen before, who had appeared out of nowhere, left him deeply uneasy. He was heeding Director Cha’s words to just wait and observe for now, but the anxiety was something he couldn’t help.
“This is going to drive me insane……”
Shim Yanggu checked his digital watch and began jiggling his leg even faster. And just then.
“……Whoa.”
In the distance, he could see Yoo Sinju crossing the lobby and heading out. Shim Yanggu froze for a moment, then quickly snapped to his senses, got out of the driver’s seat, and moved to the rear door. As Yoo Sinju came out through the automatic doors, Shim Yanggu greeted him with full force.
“Good morning!”
Yoo Sinju looked down at Shim Yanggu with a terrifying expression. Shim Yanggu’s fear of him wasn’t simply because of his status. It was the particular chill he carried. His unwavering, consistent way of treating no one like a person. In half a year, Shim Yanggu had never once received a greeting back from him. The same went for everyone on set. Not a single person among those who worked with him liked him — he was that cold of a person. Despite living off his image, his attitude had only been growing worse and worse lately. As if he wouldn’t care at all if he quit this business tomorrow.
