Translator: RaidenTL

Chapter 423: Guest Appearance (2)

We maintained an awkward distance as we headed toward the parking lot. Thanks to leaving early and pushing through the crowds busy exchanging greetings after a long time, both the elevator and the parking lot were quiet for New Year's Eve.

Gu Ja-han didn't say a word while others passed by. A suffocating awkwardness lingered.

I thought he was going to pretend he didn't know me.

Before the ceremony began, I had given Gu Ja-han a slight nod when we crossed paths, only to be ignored. Personally, I believed in maintaining basic professional courtesy, but since it might have been unpleasant for him, I didn't try to speak to him further.

Yet, he had gone out of his way to stop me. It was hard to grasp what he was thinking.

Gu Ja-han finally spoke only when there were no signs of anyone else nearby.

"Congratulations on the award."

"Thank you."

Silence fell again. The fact that no one was around actually made it more uncomfortable.

"If you don't have anything else to say, I'll head out first—"

"I apologized."

Gu Ja-han cut me off.

"I thought it’d be a breeze, you know? But it took forever."

"..."

"I couldn't reach the people who blocked me, though. I heard that might actually be more annoying for them. If they ever reach out and ask for an apology later, I'll do it then."

Gu Ja-han sounded calm.

"You were right, Kim I-wol. I guess I really did look down on people too much."

For someone who wouldn't say a word when others were passing by—as if worried about being overheard—he was being excessively honest now that there was no one to pry.

"I spent my life cutting off anyone I didn't like, but when I realized those people only put up with me and took my calls because of work..."

"..."

"...I felt even more sorry."

Accepting an apology is the victim's prerogative. Refusing contact from the perpetrator should also be a choice the victim can make.

However, when a job is on the line, when livelihoods are at stake, or when there is pressure from others, a victim might be forced to engage in a conversation they don't want.

Gu Ja-han had realized this on his own. He realized that the very fact he could even contact his victims was only possible because he was a celebrity—the 'Party A' in the industry.

"So I told them thank you. I also told them I wouldn't hold a grudge if they didn't forgive me."

"You must have been busy."

"I wonder."

Gu Ja-han didn't look the least bit proud of himself.

"The people who had to work while listening to my bullshit every day were probably busier."

Adding anything more would have been rude. I simply stood there and listened to what he had to say.

"They said they were grateful I apologized. It was honestly absurd."

"..."

"I wondered what was so great about a verbal apology, but then I realized how frustrating it must have been to live without even hearing that. And it weighs on me to think that some people might have forced themselves to accept it just because they were worried I’d start acting up again if they didn't."

‘Assistant Manager Kim, I already said I was sorry on behalf of the Department Head. Then you should know how to be flexible and let it go.’

‘...’

‘Are you planning on quitting today? If your superior has humbled himself this much, isn't it only right to say you're sorry and admit you had shortcomings too? Setting everything else aside, don't you have even a shred of desire to sacrifice a little for the sake of the company?’

The moment you force yourself to bow your head, your self-esteem is ruthlessly crushed. The wounds created by admitting fault for something that wasn't your responsibility never truly disappear. Like a crease left in a piece of paper.

Gu Ja-han's words covered those deep, old marks like a piece of tape. Even if you rub correction tape over a wound inflicted by someone else, it won't vanish, but the hollow space was filled, smoothing out the jagged edges of my heart.

"What made me so sure I’d just keep sailing through life unscathed? Because I never faced any real adversity?"

"I don't think that's it."

"You're quite forgiving. Some people say I'm just acting my part as someone born under a lucky star."

There are those who seek compensation from others for a difficult childhood, and there are those who grow up in a good environment and give more to others. To say, 'You became this way because your past was like that!' is a narrow-minded condemnation.

"I understand what you said at the very end now."

I remembered. The last message I had sent to Gu Ja-han.

Me
[...If our opinions differ, I believe it will be difficult for our relationship to last, Senior.]

Gu Ja-han stopped walking.

"Do you think our opinions are the same now, I-wol?"

Eyes stripped of arrogance turned toward me. It was a gaze that lacked any aggression or desire to corner me—a gaze waiting for the conclusion I would reach 'myself.'

I walked to the car without a word. Then, I pulled a small box of cabbage juice from the car and held it out to him.

"Senior Yun-jae asked me to give this to you if I ran into you."

It was a gift from Woo Yun-jae, who must have been on Gu Ja-han's apology list. I had vaguely guessed that Gu Ja-han would take some kind of action when I received this from Woo Yun-jae, who said he wasn't sure if he'd have a chance to give it himself.

Gu Ja-han hesitated before taking the box. I pulled out another package and handed it to him as well.

"This is a year-end gift from me."

"What?"

"I felt bad about only being on the receiving end, so I prepared something small."

Gu Ja-han's eyes widened.

"I thought you were planning on never seeing me again?"

"It's as I said. It would have been difficult if our opinions differed."

"Then why..."

"Because I didn't want it to turn out that way."

Gu Ja-han was the first person who proved to me that a human being could actually change.

He wasn't a member I had to work with as a team, nor an employee I saw every day at the same company. He was a stranger in a relationship that could have easily ended by simply never seeing each other again.

Despite being completely incompatible, he was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠someone who had made an effort not to sever his connection with me.

So I hoped. Just a little. And I waited.

"I just thought it would be nice if we could be in a relationship where I can be grateful for what I receive and give something back."

"..."

"I'm glad I can repay you. That thing is seasonal."

At my words, Gu Ja-han checked inside the shopping bag. Inside was a black cashmere scarf—an essential item for an actor who frequently had to upload 'boyfriend material' photos.

Perhaps because Gu Ja-han had shown me an unbelievable change, I wanted to try believing in him in return.

I had hoped that I could give the owner his gift before winter was over.

"Congrats on the Excellence Award!"

"Congratulations, Hyung!"

As if talking on the phone the whole way home wasn't enough, energetic cheers hit my ears the moment I opened the dorm door. Even a village celebrating someone passing the civil service exam in the Joseon Dynasty wouldn't have been this loud.

More importantly, you guys, tone it down a bit on your personal Bubble Pop. Talk about what pajamas you wore while watching the Drama Awards, or which of the nominated dramas you've seen.

"Take out the trophy. Let's see it."

"Cheong-hyeon, let him get inside first...!"

Park Ju-woo rescued me as I was pinned at the entrance. I thought I was going to have my bag ransacked right there in the hallway.

The surprise welcome didn't end there. Kang Gi-yeon, who had been hiding in the room, appeared with a large bouquet of flowers.

"Congratulations on Spark's first acting award."

"Thanks, but where did you buy a bouquet like this in the middle of the night?"

"Seong-bin Hyung pre-ordered it the moment your Drama Awards schedule was confirmed."

That was some decisive action. When I asked Jeong Seong-bin, he said he had planned to give me flowers even if I didn't win, because being nominated was a great feat in itself.

Once again, Choi Je-ho didn't stop the younger ones. Or was he unable to? Is it because I haven't given that guy, who is technically the oldest, enough authority? Should I try to restore Choi Je-ho's dignity now... No, it's too late. It seems adding a curriculum of brainwashing would be faster.

"Do you want to see the screen captures Cheong-hyeon took? Based on visuals alone, you're a movie star."

"What movie star shows up with pink hair like that?"

Choi Je-ho countered, but Lee Cheong-hyeon didn't care and held out his phone. A huge photo of me was posted on Lee Cheong-hyeon's Instagram account. Since there are fans who enjoy seeing our teamwork through these kinds of mentions, I decided to keep my nagging to myself.

"More importantly, there was something we had to do before the year ended. You all did your homework before watching the broadcast, right?"

The rascals nodded confidently.

Spark had truly benefited from this year's annual plan. After going through a lack of budget and a sudden survival show appearance in their early debut days, spending a year where everything from comeback schedules to concerts was confirmed must have made the importance of planning feel much more significant.

Jeong Seong-bin even looked proud, saying that all the members had offered many opinions. He looked a bit like... someone who had fallen in love with his work, so I felt the need to lighten the leader's burden. Regardless, since everyone cooperated actively, establishing next year's plan should go smoothly.

Is it already our third year?

Once the year turns, Spark's seniority will go up another notch. Considering that many companies promote employees around their third year, Spark was now essentially at the Assistant Manager level.

"I submitted my third concept item, so why is my waiting number in the double digits?"

"Because I-wol Hyung submitted seventeen..."

"Why would the man who preached quality over quantity do such a thing?"

Was it just my imagination that Park Ju-woo and Lee Cheong-hyeon's conversation felt somewhat like office workers?

At least it did to me. They looked just like Assistant Manager Hwang and Supervisor Song, who used to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go through trial and error over minor new tasks that weren't even worth writing in a work log—not like the lethargic days of doing whatever Department Head Nam ordered.

"Don't you remember what that Hyung posted in the group chat? 'If there are many useless options, it's a junkyard; if there are many meaningful options, it's a jewelry box.'"

"So you're saying he put in seventeen items to make a jewelry box right now."

"How many were you planning to put in?"

"Me? Thirteen."

"Seong-bin Hyung, don't you think we can skip the brainstorming meeting now?"

"No. We have to go through collective intelligence to filter out unexpected problems or catch ideas we missed..."

"Fine, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get it, so someone book a meeting room."

"I'll do it...!"

‘Assistant Manager Hwang, didn't you install the partition backward?’

‘Eh? Really?’

‘Wait, the footrest is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠facing up!’

‘You're right! Why did I do that?!’

‘It's because you've been working all night for two days straight. Let's finish up quickly and head home early today.’

‘Sounds good. And next time, let's all apply to companies that actually have a General Affairs Team...’

‘Ahahaha!’

Memories that weren't perfect, but were intense and enjoyable in their own way, were being recreated. All I had to do was use that nostalgia as fertilizer and keep moving forward.