When Pure Love is Trampled (2)
Julius girl group center, Haeran.
With her slender 168cm frame, CD-sized face, and milky skin, she possessed dance lines soaked in sensuality and deceptive physique that contrasted sharply with her pure visuals. She was the undisputed center of Julius, both by public acclaim and fan vote.
The visual担当 who dominated the Julius fandom.
And now, that Haeran was sobbing hysterically, mascara smeared hideously across her face, begging for forgiveness.
"President, I was wrong. I was so wrong. Please forgive me just this once."
Kneeling on the carpet, Haeran wept as if the world had ended, clasping her hands raw as she groveled over and over.
Shards of broken furniture littered the floor around her.
The secretary and bodyguard stood rigidly at attention in one corner, eyes fixed straight ahead without a twitch.
A middle-aged man with a prickly demeanor sat in a leather chair, fingers steepled, looking down at the weeping Haeran.
"Haeran, why 'President'? It feels so distant. Call me oppa like you usually do."
"Sob... Oppa... I was wrong..."
"What did you do wrong?"
"Everything... all of it."
"Who?"
"M-me... It was all me..."
"No, no, that's not right. You can't say it like that. If it's your fault, then it's my fault for picking you—and that would make it my mistake. Me, Park Si-hong, making a mistake? Ha, impossible."
The middle-aged man, Park Si-hong, muttered nonstop in a frenzy that blurred the line between soliloquy and conversation, shaking his head relentlessly.
The secretary in her mid-30s shot Haeran a silent glance, and Haeran snapped to realization, blurting out hastily.
"That bastard! He seduced me!"
"Yeah?"
Only then did Park Si-hong's expression brighten, and Haeran, gaining a sliver of confidence, rushed on.
"I never intended anything like that! He seduced me! Why would I look at some other guy when I have you, President—no, Oppa? It couldn't have happened unless that creep spiked my drink or something!"
"Right. That Yoon Hyeong-sik or whatever adulterous mutt shook his dick at someone else's woman without knowing his place, huh?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
"So, you enjoyed it?"
"Pardon?"
"You must've, since you stuck with that ugly, no-good married has-been for months."
"N-no, that's not it!"
Haeran's face drained of color at the brutal jab, and she denied it desperately.
"A young guy is better than an old one, even if he's ugly and taken, right?"
"Never! Absolutely not, President!"
"Choi Secretary."
The secretary stepped forward promptly.
"Yes, President."
"Send Haeran home. If we keep talking, I might really beat her."
"Understood."
"President! Oppa! Oppa!"
Sensing that leaving now meant true ruin, Haeran called out desperately to Park Si-hong.
He would never summon her again, and her glamorous life would end.
If only that bastard hadn't approached me!
She blamed only Yoon Hyeong-sik, the married man who'd tempted her, ignoring her own lapse.
"I was wrong! So wrong! Just once! Please!"
Park Si-hong closed his eyes as if she wasn't worth hearing anymore, and the burly bodyguards dragged her out.
In the wrecked office amid the debris, Park Si-hong sat in silence, eyes shut for a long while.
"What about Julius's agency, President?"
"What about it? Dump them in the ocean with weights in oil drums? Just pull our investment. As far as my life goes, Julius and Haeran never existed."
"Understood."
Park Si-hong, notorious for his womanizing, had never stooped to romantic revenge.
He'd rage, cut ties, and walk away—that was it.
But the men who caused it? That was different.
"Who is this guy?"
Choi Secretary instantly understood and pulled up a one-page profile summary.
"He's a solid character actor in Chungmuro, known for good acting and a reliable image. People praise his family-man vibe and personality."
"Ha, a 'family man with great personality' cheats with a girl group center young enough to be his niece? Smooth talker. Must be, to snag Haeran with that mug."
"He has a friendly aura that lowers guards. That's probably how he got close to Haeran so easily."
"He met her on Hwang In-jun's new film set, right? Wait... so..."
Park Si-hong furrowed his brow, recalling something.
Choi Secretary scratched the itch for him.
"Our company invested 40% of the production budget."
"Right, I knew we invested, but 40%? That's a hefty chunk."
"Yes. 116 billion won out of the total 290 billion production cost."
"Can we pull it?"
"No."
Choi Secretary answered firmly, and Park Si-hong's face darkened further.
"I don't want my blood money going to a film starring that horny mutt. If it blows up, it's like I'm funding his success."
"We could force it if we throw our weight around. But then no more investments in Hwang's films, and other directors will avoid us."
"Can't have that. Emotions are emotions, business is business. Damn, but I really want to tank it."
They could strong-arm it out, but he'd be blacklisted from the industry.
Choi Secretary ventured cautiously.
"President, Director Hwang must have known something about you and Haeran."
"Probably. He forced in that talentless hack."
Haeran had begged Choi Secretary after hearing about the investment in Hwang In-jun's new project. Even a bit part would do—just get her in.
"I need to talk to Hwang."
"I'll prepare."
"First, leak some articles. Blow up Yoon Hyeong-sik's affair. Shake the film to its core."
Weakening the opponent before negotiations was basic strategy.
"What if the movie actually collapses?"
"Even better. We pull funding without playing bully."
"It'll cost us."
"Cheap price to ruin Yoon Hyeong-sik's life."
"Proceeding that way, then."
[SH Invest Investment Planning Team]
Hwang In-jun checked the sender and swallowed dryly.
He knew how the board was turning now.
Cursing Yoon Hyeong-sik changed nothing.
Head-on collision was the only way.
Damn it.
Business-wise, the other side was too powerful; emotionally, the damage was too deep.
Should I have just flat-out refused the casting? No, that makes even less sense.
Rejecting a 116 billion investor's casting demand was impossible.
Not even a lead or supporting role—just a quick special cameo.
No sane director in the industry would turn down such a minor ask.
"Yes, Hwang In-jun speaking."
-Hello, Director Hwang In-jun. This is SH Invest Investment Planning Team.
"Oh, hello."
-We're calling about a scandal involving one of the cast members in the film we invested in.
The voice was polite but stiff, devoid of inflection.
Pure business—it weighed even heavier.
"Ah, yes. We're handling it on our end. No need to worry too much..."
-How are you handling it?
"We're calling media outlets for corrections, warning netizens spreading defamation, and issuing clarifications..."
-Clarifying what? That the scandal's fake?
"..."
-Wasn't the adulteress our company's push—a rookie? Did you not know who the affair partner was?
Hwang In-jun felt his strength drain.
He'd tried skirting that point to defuse things.
But they brought it up first. In a recordable call, no less.
No easy out.
-We know it's not your fault, Director. But we can't just let it slide. Not throwing our weight around—we trust you understand.
"...Yes. I do."
-So, can we meet to discuss? Could you come to our office?
"You want me at SH Invest headquarters?"
-Yes. Is that difficult?
Not defiance—he knew it meant facing Park Si-hong directly. Hence the confirmation.
"Understood. I'll come in person. When?"
-These things are urgent.
"Right now. Is that okay?"
-We'll inform the lobby. Just give your name.
Hwang In-jun hung up and rubbed his dry face.
Flakes stuck to his palm.
The dead cells mirrored his own haggard visage.
Stay calm, Hwang In-jun.
Too late to pull funding anyway.
Contract breach, no repayment funds—and shooting was done.
Unless he planned to quit the industry, they'd hold back too.
But nitpicking legalese was amateur hour.
As director and ultimate responsible party, he had to soothe the pissed investor.
The guy was mad enough to flip the table entirely.
Talking contracts now would just stoke the fire more.
Hwang In-jun skipped his car, calling a taxi instead.
To conserve energy for persuasion logic.
He packed his laptop to demo the film's quality.
Show the polish, maybe sway him. Skip Yoon Hyeong-sik and Haeran's scenes—Park would rage harder.
He knew every scene by heart.
Setting skips in the editor took minutes.
"Wait."
A spark flashed in his mind.
"What if I cut them out entirely..."
His brain overclocked, heat surging.
"Haeran's scenes? Just edit 'em gone—no extra cost..."
Extra spends, rescheduling, CG, re-edits, previews, theater plans—numbers danced wildly in his head.
"Could it work?"
Hwang In-jun, brain in overdrive, muttered blankly.
An image formed: numbers partying like drunk clubbers at 1 a.m. in Gangnam. A madman in a sports car crashes the frenzy.
Numbers scatter; he steps out, lights a cigarette, exhales smoke.
Flicks the butt—stage ignites. Cowering digits burn away.
Crushed by the vision, Hwang In-jun rasped.
"Excuse me, driver. Pull over up ahead, please."
"Pardon?"
"Need to think. Meter's running anyway—I'll tip extra. Just stop."
"Got it."
Taxi halted, hazards on.
Hwang drummed fingers nonstop, sorting mad numbers and scenes.
Finally, he pulled out his phone.
-Yes, Director? Jeong Seo-hoon here.
"Seo-hoon, want to join Su-jang-go? As action leader Kim Chan."
-Isn't that done by Yoon Hyeong-sik?
"Is there or isn't there? Say there is. There is, right? Need it to be. Please, just say yes."
-What's going on?
"It's the only way to the next stage! Otherwise, we're all dead—no next step!"