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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: An Unwelcome Reunion
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9.
“Hey. What the hell are you? What are you doing here?”
It was a tone anyone would recognize as surprised and belligerent.
The staff, who had also stopped, turned to look at Tae-gon and Yeon-joo. The employees with more experience knew well that Tae-gon was the CEO of Yeonildam Entertainment.
They couldn’t fathom why a man who was practically a god in the industry would stop the newest, youngest member of the costume team, but in times like these, ignorance was bliss.
“I asked you what’s going on. Why are you here? Huh?”
The staff discreetly dispersed. Tae-gon’s eyes fell on the staff pass hanging around Yeon-joo’s neck.
“Changrok? Did you follow Director Jin here?”
“Hello, Daepyonim.”
“Hah.”
Tae-gon let out a short, sharp sigh as Yeon-joo greeted him.
Compared to Tae-gon, who was clearly flustered, Yeon-joo was calm. She knew there was no way to avoid him, so she had anticipated an encounter like this would happen sooner or later.
“I’m working as the youngest member of the costume team. I look forward to working with you.”
“What? The youngest? Costume team? Ha, this is driving me crazy.”
Tae-gon’s face, etched with disbelief, flushed red.
In the past decade, Tae-gon had become a man draped in luxury from head to toe. It was a stark contrast to the man who used to wear a cheap hiking jacket like a uniform.
But that wasn’t all that had changed. The sharp black-and-white intensity in his eyes seemed to hold the same long-cultivated desires.
He was now a man whose ambition had outgrown his dreams. Tae-gon had achieved much and gained even more because of Eun-seong.
“You. Have you seen Eun-seong or not?”
Tae-gon’s eyes widened as he demanded a straight answer. Yeon-joo looked at his face before quietly opening her lips.
“I have.”
“When and where? What did you talk about?”
“I went for a fitting and took the Baeunim’s measurements. That’s all.”
“Anything else? You must have at least exchanged greetings. What did you say to each other?”
“We didn’t exchange greetings.”
As Yeon-joo answered quickly, Tae-gon took a deep breath. The problem wasn’t just that the star of their decade-old dalliance had reappeared; it was the nagging worry about what ulterior motives Yeon-joo might have for showing up before Eun-seong.
Or perhaps, he feared she might tattle to Eun-seong, telling him that Tae-gon was the one who had split them up back then. Keeping Yeon-joo here was simply asking for trouble.
‘Yeon-joo. If you’ve had your fun, it’s time to let Eun-seong go.’
At the same moment, they both recalled the same past. The incident that day, the very starting point of their respective success and misfortune, was impossible to forget.
As if she could see right through Tae-gon’s anxious thoughts, Yeon-joo spoke first this time. It was an answer she had mulled over for days.
“You don’t have to worry. What could I possibly do with the Baeunim at this point?”
“……”
“If you could just refrain from acknowledging me first like this, I can focus on my work. I’m asking you, please.”
“A request? Don’t make me laugh.”
Tae-gon scoffed at the end of her sentence. He then scanned her up and down, as if she were pathetic.
Then, as if to make it perfectly clear that he would never let her stay, Tae-gon pointed a finger at her.
“How insolent, telling me whether to acknowledge you or not. Do you think this is the time for you to be fitting Eun-seong’s clothes?”
“……”
“Go pack your things. I’m firing you right now.”
In Tae-gon’s mind, Yeon-joo was already a person full of schemes.
Vowing to never let her near Eun-seong, Tae-gon turned to leave. He took a few steps, then spun back around and snatched the prop shoes Yeon-joo was holding.
“I said go pack your things now. If you don’t want to be humiliated in front of everyone, that is.”
As if to say she wasn’t even worth his time, Tae-gon disappeared. Yeon-joo stood there, just breathing, over and over.
She had expected it. She knew Tae-gon wouldn’t welcome her, and she had even considered she might get fired, but she never imagined it would be before the first shoot even began.
*What are you doing? If you’re here to work, don’t just stand there. Work.*
Just then, it was as if she could hear Eun-seong’s voice from somewhere. Yeon-joo closed her eyes and opened them a few times, then, as if possessed, she turned and walked toward Tae-gon.
Tae-gon stopped in his tracks as Yeon-joo followed him. She took back the shoes he had snatched and spoke.
“I’ll face the humiliation when it comes and get fired when I get fired, but right now, it’s time to work. I’ll be taking the shoes.”
“Hah.”
“Excuse me.”
Yeon-joo gave a slight nod as if nothing had happened and walked away. Tae-gon watched her, an incredulous look on his face, as she headed straight for Eun-seong’s dressing room.
“Hah…”
Tae-gon let out a heavy sigh, trying to control the rage that felt like it was about to explode.
Eun-seong’s ex-girlfriend showing up on set. It was enough to drive a man insane.
*
“Eun-seong, you getting ready?”
“Ah, Director.”
While he was in the middle of makeup, the film’s director, Park Hyung-wook, came to see him. Eun-seong, who had been lost in thought with his eyes closed, opened them. The director pulled up a random chair and sat beside him.
“How are you feeling? The staff are all buzzing, saying they’re full of energy after taking the Gongjindan you gave them.”
Eun-seong chuckled as the director joked, shouting, “Gongjindan power!”
“What’s your gut feeling? Think it’ll do well? Any signs of a blockbuster?”
“Why are you asking me? The person filming should be the judge of that.”
“You little punk, always dodging the question. Anyway, the first time is always nerve-wracking. I get so tense before the first shot I feel like I’ll pull a muscle.”
“I told you to have some Gongjindan.”
“I did. I took it and digested it a while ago.”
Director Park Hyung-wook and Eun-seong had already worked on three films together. Eun-seong liked Director Park’s unique style of genre films, and Director Park liked the raw charm of actor Im Eun-seong.
They were a well-matched pair who rarely had issues working together. The actor never questioned the director’s script, and the director never doubted the actor’s performance for a second.
Director Park Hyung-wook gave Eun-seong a few words of advice before filming. As they were talking, the door opened and Yeon-joo walked in. She hesitated when she saw the director with Eun-seong, a pair of shoes in her hands.
“Ah, it’s fine, I’ll be out in a minute. Go ahead with what you need to do.”
The director gestured for her to carry on, and Yeon-joo nodded slightly before setting the shoes down.
Eun-seong watched her reflection in the mirror without a word. He could see the tips of her ears were bright red and her neck was blotchy, signs of some emotional turmoil. After watching her back for a moment, he faced forward again.
He tried not to look, but his eyes kept drifting back to her. Director Park’s voice, speaking right beside him, faded in and out.
“You can’t put too much force into that part. But if you relax too much, you’ll lose your edge. Just the right amount. You know? Just right.”
In the mirror, Yeon-joo picked up a steam iron and began pressing out the wrinkles on a costume that had been creased in transit. She moved her hands silently, maintaining a deep, calm demeanor, as if she couldn’t hear a thing.
Her eyes were large, but because her irises were big and dark, not much of the whites were visible. Though her gaze was dry now, Eun-seong remembered that she was actually someone who smiled a lot, and that when she did, her eyelids would curve into soft, round arcs.
“Anyway, Eun-seong, it’s not going to be easy. Should I talk to the martial arts director again? No matter how I think about it, the scale is… ha, this is a problem.”
…There was a time when I made every effort just to make you smile, to make you laugh.
I melted myself down to craft your smile—something the person I am today could never do. Something I can’t even begin to understand.
“Hey, Eun-seong. Are you listening to me?”
Director Park nudged him. Eun-seong simply nodded in response. He then let out a long breath and tore his gaze from the mirror.
He thought he had held up well until now. He had survived in a world swarming with people trying to control and manipulate him. But his instincts seemed to recognize that the one person who could shake him more violently than anyone else had just appeared before him.
“Come out when you’re ready. Let’s kill it today.”
“Got it.”
*I will not be shaken.*
Just as she said, a connection from the past, less than strangers now. Even if the smile on your face fades, I will no longer melt myself down for you.
Once the director left, Yeon-joo also slipped out of the room. Watching her quietly close the door behind her, Eun-seong let out a dry sigh.
*
The preparations for the first shoot were completed without a hitch.
Before the main filming began, there were several rehearsals and camera tests, and the staff waited at their respective positions for the standby call.
It was no exaggeration to say that nearly half the film consisted of action scenes, so it was intense from the very first shot. A medical support team was on-site, and a private ambulance was on standby for any potential accidents.
After Hae-yeong finished Eun-seong’s fitting, Yeon-joo brushed off any creases. She wiped away every last speck of dust from his shoes.
Eun-seong looked down at Yeon-joo, who was bent on one knee polishing his shoes, then lifted his head. This reality, this situation that still felt so unfamiliar, seemed like a scene from the film itself.
“Get a grip. I’m the one filming, so why are you so nervous?”
Eun-seong finally spoke when he saw Yeon-joo’s hands trembling as she brushed dust off his jacket.
Yeon-joo, who had been tense all along from her run-in with Tae-gon, looked up. Their eyes met for an instant, and the inner corners of Eun-seong’s eyebrows twitched.
It happened ten years ago, but it felt like a memory worth a hundred. Her gaze, which held both innocence and harm, was still difficult to bear.
Just then, drawn by some unknown force, Eun-seong’s lips quivered.
“All set?”
The head of makeup opened the door and entered.
Yeon-joo stepped back as the chief scanned Eun-seong with a hawk’s eye. After a final check for any discrepancies with the design plan, the chief spoke in a cheerful, raised tone.
“You’re always handsome, but you look extra handsome today, Eun-seong.”
Hae-yeong, the chief—the people who had worked with him for a long time were different.
They knew how to manage an actor’s mood and how to boost their confidence before a shoot. They knew that even if it wasn’t their main job, it was their destiny.
Eun-seong remained silent, offering no response. He swallowed dryly, thinking he would have made a huge mistake if the chief had come in just a moment later.
He had almost asked her how she’d been. What could he possibly ask, when their memories had become a relic of a bygone era? Eun-seong took another deep breath, steadying himself.
“And who are you? I haven’t seen you before.”
The chief asked, looking at Yeon-joo. After Yeon-joo introduced herself, the chief smiled while dabbing a little more concealer on Eun-seong’s face.
“Ah, so you’re with Director Jin’s team. I thought you were a supporting actress or something. Aren’t you just too pretty? Huh?”
Quickly sensing Eun-seong’s sour mood, the chief turned her attention to Yeon-joo, trying to lighten the atmosphere by striking up a conversation.
“How old are you?”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“Our little rookie, you entered the market a bit too late. But you know what they say, the best time is when you think you’re late, right? You can do anything except be a child model. You got this.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Are you married?”
At the sudden question, Yeon-joo’s lips parted slightly. Eun-seong, who had kept his eyes closed and surrendered his face to the chief, opened them.
A brief pause hung in the air. As they waited for an answer, his Adam’s apple bobbed violently up and down, and her fingertips went numb.
“Yes.”
“Aha. I see. I thought you were single. Eun-seong, kids these days take such good care of themselves, they all look like actors, don’t they?”
He had hoped the conversation would end there, but the chief, burdened by the silence, continued.
“Just looking at you, I get DINK vibes. How about it? Do you have kids?”
Eun-seong closed his eyes again.
