The Contract! (2)

Today's appointment wasn't a private mother-daughter date with Ji Hyuna. It was a three-person dinner—me, Mom, and Kang Ho-yeon.

The reason was simple: we needed to talk through the agency contract.

I used to think getting thirty million won was already a big deal.

Today the number had jumped all the way to fifty million. Did I really have that kind of value? The doubt flickered through me, then faded.

"Jiwoo. Here's the contract. Your mother hasn't arrived yet, but go ahead and look it over."

"...I don't know how to read a contract, though?"

That was a lie.

I could read a contract. I could write one, too. What kind of salesman wandered around unable to draft a single agreement?

Still, the face I wore belonged to a seventeen-year-old girl who hadn't even started high school. If I sat here and dissected a contract like a professional, people would start expecting far too much of me.

And I don't want that.

In my past life, playing know-it-all had gotten me humiliated more than once. This time around, I planned to stay buried in the crowd and just make money. Money never betrayed you.

"Read it anyway. If you never learn how, someone's going to cheat you someday."

"That's what my mom is for—"

"Your mother can't stand beside you forever. Sometimes a contract will be urgent. You can't lean on her for the rest of your life."

Kang Ho-yeon wasn't wrong.

The "I'm just a kid" excuse only worked until you started earning. Once you made money, you were a professional. Whining didn't suit a professional, and you had no business pulling it.

"All right. I'll take a look."

I picked up the contract and went through it line by line.

First celebrity contract I've ever seen... Nothing too ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠outrageous. Except...

That clause, sitting right in the middle.

"What does this mean?"

"Ah. That. Jiwoo... you said you wanted to be a VTuber, didn't you?"

That desire hadn't changed.

But from building a character sheet to keeping a virtual stream running smoothly, you needed the right equipment to match.

All of that comes to about ten million won.

I could have bought something cheaper, but then I wouldn't own the copyright to the character. If I ever got popular, there was a real chance the avatar would get snatched away over rights.

That's why I never even put cheap avatars on the list.

My current monthly income was about six hundred thousand won. Even if I stacked every last coin, the math came out to a year and a half—and that was if I didn't spend a single won.

If I got cast from that audition, I could save it up faster, but...

Judging by the director's and the writer's faces, my odds hadn't looked great. Even the people waiting outside had all looked formidable.

Kang Wonseong's words came back to me.

Why do you think actors overact?

At the time I'd answered that it was to immerse yourself in the character, but thinking about it now, that hadn't been the only right answer.

"Because they love acting."

Playing Kang Sora, I had felt her rage, her grief, and even that urge to throw everything away. For a moment I had genuinely become her. In a word, it had been fun.

"All right. I want to sign."

"Jiwoo...? Your mother isn't here yet. Why don't you think it over a little more?"

"I... realized that singing is fun. And that acting is fun."

Kang Ho-yeon's eyes went wide. Why the shock? I ran back through what I'd said and couldn't find anything worth being startled over.

"It's... fun?"

I answered with conviction.

"Yes. It was fun."

Kang Ho-yeon let out a short sigh, stared into my eyes, then finally nodded.

"Jiwoo... I'm sorry. I think we'll have to put off signing this contract for later."

"...What? Why?"

"At JO Entertainment, we put together a whole program to help you discover the joy of singing..."

She scratched her cheek, looking faintly embarrassed, and went on.

"But you've already found the joy of singing. And acting, too. That's why those agency people were swarming you earlier, isn't it?"

There was no point hiding it. Once I joined an agency, they were going to find out anyway.

"That's right. Director Kang Wonseong recommended I audition. I think they were filming something. If you ask him to send the footage, he will."

"Kang Wonseong... Don't tell me that's the Kang Wonseong who's shooting the new drama Ghost Singer?!"

Ghost Singer? I hadn't heard the title, but if it was a drama Kang Wonseong was directing himself, it was probably the same one.

"Probably. I didn't catch the title, though."

"Ha... haha. No way. I never imagined you'd have talent for acting too... Thirty million really wasn't enough! Good thing I went a round with the CEO."

Kang Ho-yeon clenched a fist and freely praised her past self. I just sat there watching her.

"Sorry. Traffic was backed up around here."

Ji Hyuna arrived about ten minutes late. She apologized for it even as she sat down beside me.

"Not at all. This area jams up all the time—anyone coming for the first time is bound to be late. I... apologize for jumping in, but I'd like to get straight to the contract."

Wasn't that a little abrupt? I opened my mouth to stall, but Ji Hyuna spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Of course. I'd rather get to the point than waste time. Shall we look at the contract?"

"Mom... here. I was already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going through it."

I passed her the papers in my hand. Ji Hyuna took them. Her eyes, however, stayed locked on me.

"Mom?"

"So what does my daughter think? Does this contract look all right to you?"

I didn't understand why she was asking. As far as my memories of this life went, this was the first contract I had ever seen.

She didn't look like the type to let a complete amateur check a contract and sign it on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her own. She had something in mind.

I told her honestly what I'd thought while reading it.

"Honestly, even as a beginner, I can see this contract is stacked heavily in my favor. Setting everything else aside, the first thing you look at is the money. The split is eight-to-two. I don't know the entertainment industry that well, but I don't think you'll find a ratio like that anywhere. Probably..."

My voice trailed off as my eyes met Kang Ho-yeon's. Surprise sat openly in hers.

"Six-to-four would be a rookie's deal. A veteran might get seven-to-three, or the eight-to-two I was offered. Just that much tells you I'm coming out way ahead."

Ji Hyuna nodded as she read along. I snuck a glance at her face. She was smiling, clearly pleased.

"Well spotted. That's my girl. Now then... Director Kang Ho-yeon?"

"...Y-yes! Yes!"

At Ji Hyuna's call, Kang Ho-yeon flinched like a kid about to get scolded by a teacher.

"Don't be scared. I'm not going to eat you. Of course..."

Ji Hyuna's mouth curved, just slightly.

"If there's anything strange in this contract... well. I can't promise what I'll do then."

"O-of course not! I threatened the CEO—I mean, I earnestly begged him—and brought a deal you never see for a newcomer!"

"Is that so? Hmm... On paper, there's nothing here that would hurt my daughter. But... what is this clause?"

Ji Hyuna pinned one line with her finger.

Huh? That one? It was the same clause I'd flagged earlier.

So Mom thought it was weird too?

I'd already noticed it. Back when I was a man, no matter how hard I worked, the company always took everything. They hadn't wanted to give employees a single extra thing—no bonuses beyond salary, not even a holiday gift.

And now this company wanted to hand me a custom virtual avatar for free. That would cost five million won at minimum. If the quality was high, it could run even more.

Can I really just take this?

Companies weren't charities. Whatever they gave, they always carved more than that back out of you. How much were they planning to squeeze?

A signing bonus of fifty million plus extras was, frankly, absurd.

That was when Kang Ho-yeon spoke, doing her best to hide the tension.

"Jiwoo. Please just understand that we expect that much from you. And if your acting is good enough for PD Kang Wonseong to cast you himself... then even this doesn't feel unfair."

"We're a brand-new agency. We'd like to offer more, but this is our limit. At first I asked the CEO for a hundred million and nearly got thrown out of the company."

"A hundred million? Isn't that going a little far?"

"No. I think Jiwoo is worth more than that. Even if the idol path doesn't work out, she can always pivot to acting. I haven't seen her act yet, so I can't judge that part precisely."

Kang Ho-yeon's heated voice was still ringing through the café when—

Bzzzz.

The phone I'd left on the table buzzed. I asked Kang Ho-yeon for a moment and picked it up.

"...Director Kang. I think you should watch this first, then decide."

I met her eyes and played the footage that had just arrived, still warm.

When the video ended, I picked the phone back up.

"That's the acting I did today... It's my first time, so it's pretty awkward."

Watching myself perform was mortifying. There was no mirror, so I couldn't check my face, but I was probably bright red.

"Wow... You're telling me this is acting from someone who's never been trained? Right now?"

"I had no idea my daughter could act like this..."

Kang Ho-yeon and Ji Hyuna both stared at me, looking genuinely moved.

"As expected. PD Kang Wonseong's eye was right on the money... Once you see acting like this, nobody else even registers..."

Kang Ho-yeon muttered it too quietly for us to catch.

"Oh. But I turned down the casting. The shoot would have overlapped with the start of school, and I didn't feel right skipping."

"...Excuse me? What do you mean—do you have any idea what you just did?!"

Faced with the girl who had kicked away an unbelievable opportunity, Kang Ho-yeon launched into a speech about how extraordinary PD Kang Wonseong was. Midway through, I looked at Ji Hyuna and silently begged her to stop this. Instead—

"Sweetheart. That was too much this time. You could have talked it over with Mom before you handled it, couldn't you?"

"...."

I had nothing to say.

Only after another twenty minutes of lecture were we finally allowed to sign the contract.

"I look forward to working with you, Director Kang Ho-yeon."

"You bet! Just trust me and keep up. I'll make you the biggest star in the country... no, in the world!"