How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor — Episode 2
A loan shark.
Men who made their money by lending it out—despite having no financial institution to their name. Sure, the trade had a more dignified label, moneylending, but I'd never been particularly fond of it.
Does wrapping a garbage bag around yourself hide the stink of garbage?
No matter how you dressed it up, garbage was still garbage. Smelly garbage that couldn't even be sorted for recycling.
Pretending to be anything else just makes it more repulsive.
Far better to admit you were trash, and quickly. Then you could go about your work quietly, thinking, Ah, right—trash does trashy things. Otherwise you'd get tangled up in pointless second thoughts all the time.
Before I opened my eyes in Yoo Seul-ho's body, I'd been one of the more successful loan sharks in the business. The reason for that success was nothing special. My clients weren't ordinary people. They were special clients. Unlike the average joe, whose guts would reveal nothing but an unremarkable life, mine were the kind who—no matter how deep you dug—kept turning up filthier and filthier secrets.
That's right. Every one of my clients was a celebrity.
So I run into this bastard here of all places.
Woo Jun-seo had been one of my regulars. Celebrities who earned plenty tended to borrow from me instead of a bank for one reason more often than not: dirty purposes. Working this job had taught me that behind the glamorous, glittering facade of show business crawled trash just like me. And Woo Jun-seo was top-tier trash—the crème de la crème.
And now there he was, smiling his Mr. Nice Guy smile right in front of Yoo Seul-ho.
"Seeing you in person, you really are handsome. Wow, you're even better-looking than on screen."
"Thank you."
I gave Woo Jun-seo's crinkly-eyed smile an appropriate measure of response.
"You look much better in person too, Jun-seo-ssi."
"……"
Woo Jun-seo faltered for a beat, then finished his smile.
"I enjoyed your last project so much, sunbae-nim. It was a brief role, but the impact was incredible!"
"I see."
"I begged PD Jang to let me work with you, you have no idea. He kept saying it was difficult, but I pushed and pushed anyway. I told him, just give sunbae-nim a character—any small role will do."
His grin turned sly, brimming with the satisfaction of having whined his way to victory. The unspoken message rang loud and clear: Would you even be here without me?
Sunbae-nim this, sunbae-nim that—the words dripped with such naked contempt that anyone could hear it. I just smiled.
"I see. PD-nim, did you order a drink yet?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. Ordered one earlier."
"Then I'll go order mine and be right back."
With a face of perfect courtesy, I bowed my head to PD Jang and turned my back. Whether Woo Jun-seo stood there looking like he'd just taken a slap—I couldn't have cared less.
So the rumors were true.
Pick someone whenever he got bored and torment them until they quit the industry, or so the story went. I knew every rumor circulating about Woo Jun-seo. And not merely as part of routine VIP management.
When your clients were celebrities, nothing wielded as much power as information. Ask anyone to picture a loan shark and they'd imagine organ harvesting or kidnapping—violent, dramatic business—but in my line of work, those words rarely came up. For one thing, physically threatening a reasonably famous celebrity was bad for business. Between managers, agencies, and a web of people too numerous to count, fabricating a plausible vacancy where a person used to be was an enormous, tedious hassle.
My clients understood this perfectly well, which was why they almost never resorted to death threats against me either. In the end, my weapon of choice was the thing they feared most: rumors. The kind of devastating rumor that would make it impossible for them to function as celebrities. After all, choosing to borrow from me instead of a bank was itself proof that they cared about gossip.
So knowing every scrap of information about them, every rumor drifting through the industry, was essential. And I knew everything there was to know about Woo Jun-seo—including the fact that behind his wholesome, hardworking image, he was constantly up to revolting schemes, and that he counted bullying mentally fragile colleagues among his hobbies.
Looks like this time's target is Yoo Seul-ho.
Poor Yoo Seul-ho, cursed with such rotten luck, getting tangled up with a bastard like that. With that thought, I placed my order.
"So the reason I called you here today is…"
By the time I returned to my seat, PD Jang cut straight to the heart of it. He passionately explained what drama he was planning to shoot next, what role lead actor Woo Jun-seo would play, what kind of response the drama would provoke from society, how much the broadcasting station executives were anticipating it, and so on and so forth.
But having watched little in the way of movies or dramas in my life, his entire spiel sounded like somebody else's problem. Every now and then Woo Jun-seo would toss out a remark laced with the subtext of I'm the star here, and you should know your place, but that held even less interest for me.
Only one thing interested me.
So how much are they paying me?
I'd come to this meeting knowing nothing about Yoo Seul-ho beyond the bare basics, so I had no clear idea how far along things already were. Judging by the context, though, a contract seemed to have been signed already.
Hmm.
I was just resolving to contact the manager the moment the meeting ended and check the contract first when—
"Sunbae-nim, you're not declining, are you?"
"Pardon?"
At Woo Jun-seo's out-of-nowhere remark, I tilted my head, and he smiled gently.
"Oh, it's just, I heard you've been having a lot of worries about acting lately. Don't stress too much. You're far more experienced than I am—I'm sure you'll do fine. And it's not as if it's an especially burdensome role, so… you're okay with it, right?"
What nonsense was this kid spouting?
Of course I'm okay with it.
Work had come in, and money was being offered. There was no reason not to take it.
Acting isn't exactly brain surgery.
Some people might consider acting a noble profession, but that was their business. The work I'd done all my life also required swapping masks depending on the client. How was that any different from acting?
And above all, the body I was currently occupying was Yoo Seul-ho's.
Actually, that's rather convenient.
Even if my acting were catastrophic, nobody would be expecting much anyway, would they? Ah, wait a second. Come to think of it, Yoo Seul-ho has parents, doesn't he? And parents of considerable standing at that. How was I supposed to treat them? Would it be fine to handle them like any other elderly client?
"—bae-nim. Sunbae-nim?"
"Yes?"
"……You didn't hear me?"
The corners of Woo Jun-seo's eyes were trembling. Only after taking in that barely-sustained smile did I realize I'd inadvertently talked right over him.
"Ah, yes. Well, of course."
I answered vaguely and fixed my attention solely on PD Jang. Honestly, I couldn't understand why Woo Jun-seo was even here. It wasn't as if he'd written the script himself.
When I gave him the thorough cold shoulder, Woo Jun-seo apparently grew incensed and started posturing even harder—and I handled his little performance with practiced ease. Thanks to my former profession, I was well accustomed to dealing with people pickled in alcohol or drugs who couldn't hold a coherent conversation. I parried every jab Woo Jun-seo threw, deflecting his needling remarks without letting a single one land, and it was around then that—
…?
I noticed PD Jang's expression toward me had shifted in a strange way. When I'd first walked into the teahouse, the look in his eyes had been dead. As if he found it infuriating to look directly at me, and was keeping his lids lowered as much as humanly possible.
For a man like that to suddenly be gazing at me with a look shot through with odd excitement—it left an odd taste in my mouth.
What's his deal?
I was thinking only of wrapping things up and getting a look at the number written on that contract when PD Jang spoke.
"Seul-ho-ssi."
"Yes."
"I'll say this up front. If you act like you did last time, I'll never want to see your face again."
"Ah…"
"Woo Jun-seo insisted he absolutely had to work with you this time, so I contacted you against my better judgment. Honestly, I have my reservations. You understand why I'm saying this, right? Things ended badly last time."
At PD Jang's loaded words, I meekly lowered my gaze. In that moment, the expression on Woo Jun-seo's face that entered my field of vision was a sight to behold—he was straining to force the corners of his mouth downward.
Oh, he's absolutely thrilled.
PD Jang had even differentiated the honorifics. Actor Jun-seo versus Seul-ho-ssi. As far as I knew, it had been some twenty years since Yoo Seul-ho debuted as a child actor. And yet here he was, being treated so differently from Woo Jun-seo, who'd debuted less than five years ago. If I'd been the real Yoo Seul-ho, that would have stung the pride considerably. Not that it bothered me in the slightest.
I'll have to ask the manager what happened between him and PD Jang.
When I listened in silence, PD Jang continued in a noticeably lighter tone.
"Of course, I'm not expecting your skills to suddenly skyrocket just because I said all that. So let's make this a win-win. What do you want, Seul-ho-ssi?"
"Pardon?"
"Tell me what kind of character you think you could play most convincingly. I'll build a role around it for you."
Well, well. It felt like receiving a gift I'd never imagined. For some reason, his offer to take Yoo Seul-ho's side carried a reassuring weight to it. And I wasn't the only one who noticed—Woo Jun-seo beside me blinked in visible confusion.
"PD-nim, wait a—"
"In exchange, don't expect much screen time."
PD Jang shrugged, pretending not to hear him. I considered for a moment.
What I'd really like is to play a loan shark.
Now that would be method acting so convincing it could raise goosebumps. But a loan shark was far too heavy a role compared to the tone of the drama I'd just heard described. In the end, there was only one answer I could give.
"Any role is fine. But I'd appreciate it if you made someone the audience will absolutely despise."
"Huh?"
"You know how there's always that one character so trashy people want to reach through the screen and beat them? Since people already hate me, playing a loathsome character will actually help me immerse myself. I'm getting torn apart online anyway—at this point, a little more hate won't make a bit of difference."
"……"
PD Jang's eyes went wide with shock. In those rounded pupils I could read: You knew about that— no, wait, you can just say it out loud like that?
"Well—"
"You really mean that?"
Woo Jun-seo started to say something beside me, but PD Jang cut him off and jumped in.
"Seul-ho-ssi, you've only ever played likable characters until now."
"Yes. I'm fine with it."
It wasn't as if my paycheck would change depending on the character—what did it matter which role it was? At my flat reply, PD Jang broke into a satisfied smile, and with that, the meeting came to an end.
"Get home safely, PD-nim."
After sending PD Jang off in a taxi first, Woo Jun-seo and I were left alone.
"Sunbae-nim, I'm going to step out for a smoke. Could you wait here a moment?"
Before I could even answer, he turned his back. The moment PD Jang disappeared, he got bold. What a rude little—
I was weighing how far I ought to indulge this impudence when—
"YOO SEUL-HO!!"
The shout from behind me spun me around. A total stranger—an absolute first—came storming up with a face like thunder and swung his hand at me.
"You little sh—"
Reflexively, I caught the hand descending toward my head. Then I immediately squeezed with everything I had, and my attacker yelped, yelp! and started flailing.
"Let go, let go! It hurts! Ow ow, ah, seriously. Let go. Ah, come on, hurry."
He'd flung his own umbrella to the ground and was near tears, wailing. At that pathetic display, my composure slipped right off my face.
And who the hell were you supposed to be?