How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor — Episode 57
Director Shin forced himself to ignore the strange feeling gnawing at him and pulled his posture back together.
"Seul-ho."
"Yes?"
"Do you know why golf is so hard?"
Gripping the club, Director Shin swung it slowly.
―Whoosh.
The sound of the club head slicing through the air rang sharply through the office.
Savoring the sudden drop in the room's atmosphere, Director Shin spoke in a low voice. "You have to send the ball straight. Miss by even a hair and you're finished. No matter how far you drive it, it's worthless—because where the ball needs to go is set in stone."
Which was exactly what made it so difficult.
And yet, at the same time…
"That's also what makes it easy. In the end, all you have to do is find the right path and hit it straight. You remember what I said when we had our meeting last year, don't you?"
That I would guide you down the right path from now on.So don't go thinking any other thoughts.
How did Yoo Seul-ho react back then, again?
A cold smile crept across Director Shin's face as the memory surfaced. He recalled how Yoo Seul-ho had nodded along meekly when he told him that all he had to do now was listen to him.
Riding the surge of confidence that came naturally with it, Director Shin adjusted his stance.
"Nothing's changed between then and now. All you have to do is listen to me. Don't get curious, don't ask questions. Just follow my words."
That's the only way to a good outcome.
Without a shred of shame, he declared that the recent smash-hit drama Space of You and Me had only succeeded because he had pushed it so hard.
"With precedent like that, and you still won't listen to me? Then that can only mean…"
He drew the club up in a slow backswing.
"You simply want to crash and burn."
The powerful swing followed.
―Whoosh.
With the vicious whistle of the wind, Director Shin's low voice settled to the floor.
"…So. Do you want to fail? Or do you want to listen to me?"
Waiting for his answer, Director Shin closed his eyes.
Oof, I killed it just now.
Marvelling at his own charisma, he struggled to hold down the corners of his mouth, which kept twitching upward on their own.
How scared is he right now?
The Yoo Seul-ho he'd dealt with over the past year had been nothing but a spineless pushover.
If I'd been born with that face, that body, and that pedigree, I'd have milked it for ten times what he has.
And yet somehow that dim-witted boy was the one who'd swept up all the luck. It could be frustrating how he always seemed cowed and timid, hardly befitting a rich family's son—but then again, that was precisely what made him so satisfying to handle.
A coward who answered his word as obediently as Hyun Jin-gae did—that was Yoo Seul-ho.
…Then why isn't he answering?
Was he really that terrified?
When no reply came no matter how long he waited, Director Shin opened his eyes.
He turned his head—and there was Hyun Jin-gae, sweating buckets, and Yoo Seul-ho, eyes closed, lost deep in thought.
"…?"
For a moment, Director Shin couldn't process what he was seeing and blinked several times.
Sensing his mood, Hyun Jin-gae frantically jabbed Yoo Seul-ho in the side.
―Poke, poke.
"Hnn—yes?"
Yoo Seul-ho jolted awake, opened his eyes, and quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Only then did Director Shin realize that Yoo Seul-ho had heard absolutely nothing he'd said.
"You… what exactly do you think you're doing right now?"
It was more than enough to blow the lid off Director Shin's notoriously foul temper.
True to a man who'd survived decades in the entertainment industry, he'd endured every filthy humiliation imaginable—but never once had an actor under his management treated him with this kind of open contempt.
"Do I look easy to you? Where do you get the nerve—"
The tone of Director Shin's voice dropped sharply.
It was several times more terrifying than if he'd simply screamed his head off.
Hyun Jin-gae went rigid and pale, like a man who knew exactly what was about to erupt.
He was trembling so violently you could see he couldn't even breathe properly.
Yoo Seul-ho, on the other hand…
"Hm? Oh, come on, no way. I've just been sleeping badly lately, that's all."
He laughed playfully, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Sorry about that. Don't be upset. Anyway, what were you saying?"
There was a deliberate artlessness to the way he beamed, utterly oblivious to the mood—or at least pretending to be.
Director Shin, who could hardly have missed it, gave a sharp Ha! and shook.
"I must have coddled you far too much, if this is how shameless you've become. One decent role lands in your lap and suddenly you think you've made it in life?"
"Well, I did make it a little, didn't I?"
"…Yoo Seul-ho."
"What? You're the one who asked."
Pouting as if he'd been wronged, Yoo Seul-ho argued his case—then turned to his side as if to ask for someone to take his part. But Hyun Jin-gae stared stubbornly straight ahead, apparently determined not to get dragged into it under any circumstances.
"Wow. Not a single person on my side."
Director Shin sneered at the sight of Yoo Seul-ho's wounded act.
"Get a grip, Yoo Seul-ho. There's a limit to how much bad manners I'll overlook. Right now it feels like the whole world is yours, doesn't it? But the second your agency stops supporting you, it's over. That's the extent of where you stand—nothing more."
"Which is exactly what I just said. Not a single person on my side."
Yoo Seul-ho let out an indifferent sigh.
"My one and only manager ditches me on set every day to go pick up your golf balls, and my one and only agency's big idea is to threaten me that they'll cut support if I don't obey. Life really is a hollow thing."
"Enough. For your next project, you'll take whatever I choose for you. I'll set up the meetings with the production staff, so go buy yourself a suit and wear it."
Director Shin turned his back, as if he couldn't stomach another word.
Even having this conversation with some green rookie whose baby fat hadn't even worn off yet seemed to wound his pride.
"Jin-gae, get him out of here."
"Sir, yes sir."
Hyun Jin-gae, who had spent the entire conversation pretending he wasn't there, shot to his feet at the order.
The sight of him acting like he was Director Shin's personal lapdog made Yoo Seul-ho snort.
…Ha.
At that crisp little snort of contempt, Director Shin's reason finally snapped.
"You ill-mannered little punk!! How dare you laugh at me!!"
—CRASH!!!
Director Shin, who had been biting down on his rage, hurled the golf club. It never reached Yoo Seul-ho—it slammed into the table with a deafening roar.
"Gah! Director! P-please calm down!!"
Frantic at the sight of him in full fury, Hyun Jin-gae rushed to hold him back.
"You little shit!! You'd better think long and hard about who you can afford to mess with!!!"
"Ahh, how scary."
Yoo Seul-ho clung to his manager's arm, looking not the least bit afraid.
That only inflamed Director Shin further, and he began hurling whatever objects were within reach, mercilessly.
Hyun Jin-gae, the poor soul caught in the middle, tearfully begged them both to stop, but neither did.
—Thwack!!
"Augh! My thigh!"
Yoo Seul-ho failed to dodge the incoming ashtray and yelped in pain.
"I'm injured. It hurts. I can't act anymore. I'm dying."
"Then just die, you little shit!!!"
Director Shin roared at Yoo Seul-ho's theatrically sobbing.
"You think I can't kill you?! I could kill you right here, right now! Huh?!"
"Please, Director, calm down!!"
His eyes bloodshot and bulging with rage, Director Shin raged on, and Hyun Jin-gae clung to him desperately.
As he screamed, over and over, that he would kill him, Yoo Seul-ho—who had been pretending to cry behind his hands—suddenly asked, "But if you kill me, what happens to my next project?"
"What?"
"I mean, it's just funny."
Yoo Seul-ho lowered the hands that had been covering his face.
What emerged was a dead, bored expression with not a trace of laughter in it.
"What are you going to do if I simply say I'm not doing a next project? You can set up the meetings, buy me the suit, do all of it—but if I end up refusing, that's the end of the story, isn't it? You should be thinking about how to coax and sweet-talk me. Threats and throwing things… honestly, it's hilarious. Just how badly did you misjudge me?"
He brushed off his crumpled suit with a few light pats of his hand as he spoke, his tone flat.
There was a weary quality to him now, as if to say the games were over.
"There's nothing in my contract requiring me to do a minimum number of projects. Worst case, I could sit on my hands until the contract runs out and not break a single law. Anyone looking at this situation can see which one of us is screwed here. So why is it you can't see it objectively?"
"Ha! You think I'll be ruined just because a nothing like you stops working?"
"Well, you'd certainly lose face with the people who've already staked work on my name. You've already told everyone, haven't you—the production team and investors lined up for that next project. Told them you'd hand over Yoo Seul-ho dirt cheap."
At that calm voice, Director Shin froze mid-fury.
He felt exposed—as if his inner thoughts had been read straight out of him. Shame flickered through him, but to hide it, he only raised his voice higher.
"So what is it you want, then? You think I'm going to beg you? Huh? Is that it—you're waiting for me to get down on my knees and say, 'Please, please do the project, Mr. Seul-ho'? You? How dare you?"
"No. I'm waiting for something else."
Yoo Seul-ho said it with an expression bored to death.
No matter how the director shouted What is it, then?, no answer came.
It was calm, methodical contempt, as if to say conversation was for civilized people only.
Huh.
There was not a trace left of the clueless, playful act from moments ago in that cold demeanor. The shift had come in an instant, and it was utterly alien.
Even for Director Shin, who had seen countless actors in his day, it was a presence that threw him off balance.
What… what should I say…
While Director Shin fumbled for his words, a vibration rang out through the silence-heavy office.
—Ring.
Yoo Seul-ho pulled the phone from his pocket, and the moment he checked the screen, an eyebrow arched upward.
Then, without asking anyone's leave, he answered.
"Hello."
Listening quietly to the voice on the other end, Yoo Seul-ho slowly lifted the corners of his mouth.
"Yes. That really is… the news I've been waiting for."
Director Shin flinched at the sight of him beaming—beaming while looking directly, precisely, at Director Shin himself.
Just as he began to shrink back—
"I'll head over there now."
With those words, Yoo Seul-ho hung up.
"You, what the—"
"Director, thank you for everything you've done."
"What?"
Both Director Shin and Hyun Jin-gae stood dumbstruck at the sudden farewell.
"I've put up with this filthy place far too long. I'm sorry to myself for all the grinding I've done—but to the two of you? Not particularly. Then, goodbye."
"Hey. Where do you think you're going. Stop right there?!"
"Seul-ho, hold on. Just—just talk to me for a second."
Yoo Seul-ho ignored Director Shin's words outright, but at Hyun Jin-gae's, he paused mid-stride.
"What is it? Who was that on the phone?"
Yoo Seul-ho stared for a moment into his manager's anxiously wavering eyes, then let out a sigh.
"Sorry, hyung. I'd love to explain, but I'm not allowed to say anything without a lawyer from here on out."
"What?"
"Take care of yourself."
With that, Yoo Seul-ho strode out of the office.
It was several minutes before the two dumbfounded men finally grasped what had happened—when the summons came from the CEO's office.
"You goddamn idiots!!!"
What the enraged CEO hurled at them was a thick stack of documents.
"How the hell were you managing this kid that you let things turn into THIS?!!"