How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor — Episode 12
When I saw the message from Yoo Seul-ho's mother, my very first thought was this:
'I'd go crazy even if I wasn't already.'
I actually found myself thinking that a string of profanity-laced hate texts would've been easier on the heart. And along with that, a question occurred to me.
If her child reads this message and then contacts her, would that satisfy her? Is guilt-tripping really the only way she can think of to make him reach out? That part, honestly, is kind of pitiful.
'I don't know.'
As someone who grew up without parents, I'd carried a certain unavoidable illusion, a kind of expectation — and watching it shatter into pieces felt strangely final.
When I was young, I used to be so jealous of kids who had parents. Turns out what I should really have been jealous of was kids with normal parents. Not every parent is in their right mind, apparently.
'What would the original Yoo Seul-ho have done, seeing this text?'
Knowing him, the odds were high he'd have called immediately. This was the guy who'd knelt in front of his family home and held out there, raw, for three whole days.
He was foolish enough to endure it without eating, and they were worse for leaving him out there. It definitely wasn't normal — ignoring your own child when he collapsed begging for forgiveness at your gate. Even a total stranger would have weighed on you.
And the message made it painfully clear that they still expected that kind of effort from him.
'But so what? I'm not Yoo Seul-ho.'
And frankly, I don't get it. Did he really do something so wrong? He's a grown adult — shouldn't he be allowed to sign with whatever agency he wants? How does that justify nearly a year of the silent treatment?
'They told him not to contact them, and now they're furious that he actually stopped. Comedy.'
The more I turned it over, the more absurd it became.
In the month since I'd landed in Yoo Seul-ho's body, I'd done market research — binged a pile of well-known Korean films and dramas. Plenty of parent-child narratives came up, but they were mostly beautiful and tragic and... that was about the extent of it.
'Real life really is nothing like the dramas.'
With that thought, I chose to leave the message on read. Partly because I had no desire to behave the way she wanted, and partly because I genuinely hadn't decided yet how I was going to handle Yoo Seul-ho's parents going forward.
'Let's wait for the follow-up report from the agency first, then think it over.'
With my mind settled, I filed the text away and forgot about it completely. Then I asked PD Jang whether it would be all right to come watch the set.
'Whoa.'
The word of admiration slipped out of me the moment I arrived at the park where today's shoot was taking place.
A place that had been an ordinary public park until yesterday was now packed to bursting with cameras and towering lights. The filming zone, set up in one corner after getting the citizens' permission, had an oddly festive feel to it — like a nicely curated pop-up store.
'Come to think of it, this is my first time on a set.'
Back in my loan shark days I'd dealt with plenty of celebrities as clients, but I'd never once watched them actually work. Knowing I'd soon see Woo Jun-seo and Choi Ran acting with my own eyes had me feeling a little giddy.
'Good thing the shoot got moved up.'
Apparently the trend these days is full pre-production, but our drama was the exception. Space of You and Me, slated for terrestrial broadcast, was getting its premiere earlier than planned due to the network's scheduling situation.
It had been decided a mere two days after the script reading, and according to Lee So-eun — the staff member I'd bonded with while helping carry equipment boxes the other day — everyone had gone into full panic mode, scrambling to lock down the shooting schedule and book locations.
And it wasn't just the staff losing their minds. The cast, naturally, was in an uproar too.
Woo Jun-seo, the male lead, had thrown every tantrum available to man, but even the time spent throwing them was a luxury — the schedule demanded they start shooting immediately. He and Choi Ran, the female lead, had apparently been grinding through grueling shoots together for the past several days.
'Well, none of that applies to me.'
Being busy was the leads' problem. Useless had nothing to do. Still, we were all actors on the same drama — surely watching from set couldn't hurt — so I'd asked PD Jang, and he'd readily told me to come by, adding that getting a feel for the set atmosphere in advance might even help me.
'This is my first shoot, but for Yoo Seul-ho, it isn't.'
I had to be prepared. Today I'd watch how the others performed in front of the camera, and steal whatever was worth stealing. With that in mind, I stepped into the filming zone.
"Hello, everyone."
There was still plenty of time before filming began, so the staff, all prepped and ready, were sprawled flat on the ground. Every one of them lifted a weary head to look at me.
"Huh? It's Seul-ho..."
"I brought coffee. Please, have some while you wait."
"WOW! COFFEE!!!!!!"
The instant they spotted the mountain of cups in my hands, the staff came swarming like a pack of zombies. Excuse me? The reaction to my face versus the reaction to coffee — is that gap really necessary?
"I was expecting everyone to greet me, but you're all just hunting for coffee. I'm wounded."
"Oh, come on. Do you have any idea how much we missed the coffee — I mean, missed you, Seul-ho-ssi?"
"Wipe that drool off your mouth first."
"Mm-hm."
We traded banter and laughs with the staff, who'd somehow grown familiar with me after only a few encounters. I'd bought as generously as I could, but the crew was sizable, and the cups barely went around.
'One cup short and I'd have been in trouble.'
Everyone getting some was a mercy. The fact that I'd even handed off the coffee I'd bought for myself? Not a mercy.
Choi Ran was slumped in a chair, clutching her parched throat, and I walked over to her.
"Hey."
"Huh? What brings you here, Oppa? Do you have a shoot today?"
"No, just came to watch. Figured I'd get a feel for the set, you know? Got to be prepared."
At my words, Choi Ran's eyes flattened into dead-fish slits.
"How much more preparing do you plan on doing? Just do what you did at the reading. That was more than enough. Anything beyond that is just greed."
"Somehow, your compliments always leave me confused."
"Because that wasn't a compliment. It's a warning — don't act better than me."
With that prim little remark, Choi Ran huffed and folded the script she'd been studying. And what a state it was in — from how passionately she'd been going over it, the originally pristine pages had been reduced to ragged patchwork, ready to fall apart at a tap.
It was a pretty striking sight.
"Sorry, but got anything to drink?"
"You show up and immediately start mooching? Here, drink this."
Grumbling all the while, Choi Ran poured me a cup of the pumpkin tea she'd brought along separately.
"My sister made it from scratch this morning and hauled it here. She can't spare much, so just one cup."
"Thanks. Where is Miss Yoon, anyway?"
"She's over there petting the dog. The woman loses her mind over dogs."
"Dog?"
I tilted my head for a second before belatedly going, ah.
'Right. There's a dog in the show.'
Space of You and Me followed two freshmen entering architecture school. The female lead was bright and cheerful, but the male lead was a man worn down and exhausted by his relentless daily grind.
In their group project — design a form of housing where animals and humans coexist — the two clash in a way neither of them expected. The male lead, too drained by life to spare even animals a shred of his energy, and the female lead, raised alongside animals since childhood, collide head-on in opinion, and she ends up branding him a psychopath.
Then, while out walking her dog, the female lead happens to run into the male lead — and of course, the dog pounces on him. She frantically pulls it off, but by then he's already covered head to toe in fur and drool, and their conflict only deepens.
'But it turns out the male lead actually loves dogs — he just couldn't afford to keep one.'
The female lead realizes she'd misjudged him and apologizes, and through the project the two talk about homes, about people, about the future, and become friends.
And today, it seemed, was the day they were shooting that walk scene.
I was about to let it pass with a simple oh, got it when Choi Ran said, offhandedly:
"So don't come today — come tomorrow."
"Huh?"
"You're scared of dogs, Oppa."
"Me?"
"Am I wrong? Back in the day..."
Choi Ran stared at me hard for a moment, then simply shrugged.
"Never mind. I must be mixing things up."
As she buried herself back in her script, I found myself thinking.
'Was Yoo Seul-ho afraid of dogs?'
I'd received thirteen pages of reports from the agency, but that hardly covered everything there was to know about him. I hesitated, then spoke slowly.
"Maybe I used to be."
Whether Yoo Seul-ho feared dogs doesn't matter. What matters is that from now on, I'm the one living as Yoo Seul-ho.
If he was scared of dogs, I'll like them in his place. If his parents tormented him, I'll help him drift away from them. This is a body that's going to earn me a fortune — I can easily manage this much.
Cutting ties with your parents isn't easy for anyone. The lucky part is that I never had any to begin with, so there's no one on earth better suited to this particular job than me.
'Of course, leaving them on read won't solve everything.'
But it could be the opening shot. Every time a message like this arrives, their son used to come running and drop to his knees. Making them slowly prepare to accept that that son no longer exists — that the boy they used to toy with in the palms of their hands is dead — that's the point.
"For now..."
I said it flatly, but with certainty.
"I'm not scared of dogs. And I don't hate acting, either."
"......"
Choi Ran looked up at me. She stared at me dead-on for a moment — and somehow, the corner of her mouth curled upward.
"Yeah. You do look like it."
It was nothing, really, but it felt good. I was just about to smile back when—
"—URK!"
Something slammed into me from behind and sent me sprawling. At the same instant, I heard a man's voice shouting, "No!! Wooju!!!"
The impact was heavy enough that, had I not instinctively rolled with the fall, I might've cracked my face on the ground. What on earth had come flying at me that weighed this much on my back? I pushed myself up, and there it was—
—Hah, hah.
A luxuriant coat of fur. A jet-black body. Sharp, clever eyes.
"...?"
Before I could even process what I was looking at, something warm and wet slurped across my face.