6
Chapter 6
Sizzle—
A beautifully marbled sirloin screamed atop the scorching cast-iron pan.
The rich aroma of sizzling fat filled the private dining room.
The employee's hands moved with practiced precision. Flipping the meat at exactly the right moment, cutting it into perfectly sized pieces.
I sat with my arms crossed, watching the scene indifferently.
Across from me.
Park Juyeon wasn't even looking at the meat.
Instead, she was staring directly at me.
A cap was pulled low over her face, but it couldn't hide the sharp gleam in her eyes.
"Excuse me."
The moment the employee left the room, she spoke.
"Yes?"
"That lighter scene earlier. Did you plan it?"
The question came out of nowhere.
A fastball straight down the middle.
"No."
"You're lying. You lit it at the exact moment the other actor's eyes started shaking. The timing was perfect. You're telling me that wasn't intentional?"
"It was luck."
I picked up my chopsticks.
"I got lucky."
"Don't give me that. Nobody scares someone that badly through luck."
There was an edge to her voice.
Apparently she didn't like my answer.
She spun her water glass irritably.
"Tell me honestly. Where did you learn it? Who was your acting teacher?"
She was persistent.
The type who wouldn't let go until she got an answer.
I placed a piece of perfectly cooked beef into my mouth.
Juices exploded across my tongue.
'Worth every penny.'
The fatigue seemed to wash out of my veins.
After swallowing, I finally answered.
"I taught myself."
"Ha! Self-taught? You expect me to believe that?"
"If you don't want to, don't. I don't have a teacher."
It wasn't exactly a lie.
If anything, the switch itself was my teacher.
I hadn't learned from another person.
So calling myself self-taught wasn't entirely wrong.
Park Juyeon looked utterly dumbfounded.
"Wow... you're seriously annoying."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
I quietly continued eating.
After fuming for a while, she finally gave up and picked up her own chopsticks.
For some time, the only sound in the room was chewing.
"So."
After swallowing another bite, she resumed her attack.
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"How can your on-off switch be that sharp?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"The moment someone calls cut, you instantly go from Hong Jinsu back to Kang Seojun."
She leaned forward slightly.
"I've played villains before. I know how it works. When you dig that deep into those emotions, something always lingers. Your hands shake. You get depressed. Sometimes the aftereffects last for months."
Her gaze remained fixed on me.
"But you were completely normal the moment filming ended. I've never seen anything like it."
Sharp.
There was a reason she was a top actress.
It wasn't just popularity.
Her instincts for acting were exceptional.
She had unconsciously sensed the strange nature of my switch.
But there was no way I could tell her the truth.
If I said there was literally a switch inside my head, I'd probably end up in a psychiatric ward.
I picked up another piece of beef.
"Because it's work."
"...What?"
"I value work-life balance."
I calmly took a bite.
"I don't like work invading my personal life."
That had been true even during my office days.
Getting off work never really meant getting off work.
Manager Kim always sent work instructions late at night.
Work had completely invaded my private life.
'Work-life balance...'
Maybe that was why I subconsciously separated work from everything else.
Park Juyeon frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"Exactly what I said."
I shrugged.
"I don't like my roles invading me. So when filming ends, I make an effort to forget everything about the character. It's just a difference in mindset."
"No matter what, that's not something you can just..."
"Apparently I can."
"..."
She sat there with her mouth slightly open.
Which made sense.
A rookie actor was claiming he could do something a top actress couldn't.
"Hah..."
A bitter laugh escaped her.
"You really know how to drain the energy out of a person."
"I'm not wrong, am I?"
"No, you are."
She pointed her chopsticks at me.
"I've spent more than ten years in this industry. I've never seen anyone separate themselves from their role that perfectly."
She took a large gulp of wine.
The hostility in her eyes had faded.
In its place lingered something stranger.
Recognition.
And resignation.
"But..."
She smiled bitterly.
"I don't hate you."
That was unexpected.
"I used to be like you when I was a rookie."
She stared at her wine glass.
"Confident. Simple. Somewhere along the way everything became too heavy."
Her gaze returned to me.
"The pressure to do well. The obsession with succeeding. I started taking it out on other people."
Then she looked directly into my eyes.
"You should've started this job much earlier, Seojun."
Instead of answering, I placed another piece of meat into my mouth.
That ended the conversation.
The tense interrogation from before disappeared.
She stopped prying.
And I had no desire to elaborate.
Only the sound of chopsticks remained.
Two people sitting together because their interests happened to align.
She got her answers.
I filled my stomach.
After some time—
"Let's go."
Park Juyeon stood up casually after finishing her meal.
Her van stopped at the entrance to the alley leading to my apartment.
"What? You live somewhere like this?"
She looked around.
"It doesn't really suit you."
"I'm planning to move soon anyway."
I'd already been considering it for days.
Now that I had money, continuing to live here made no sense.
"Thanks for the meal."
"See you next week."
She pointed at me.
"And memorize your script properly. I won't go easy on you next time."
With that declaration of war, she rolled up the window.
The white van disappeared into the darkness.
I adjusted my bag and began climbing the hill.
The streetlights flickered overhead.
A torn garbage bag lay in one corner of the alley.
Somewhere nearby, a cat cried out.
A completely different world from the luxury beef restaurant in Cheongdam.
This was my reality.
Creak.
I opened the rusty metal gate and entered the rooftop apartment.
The moment I took off my shoes, warm stale air washed over me.
Hot in summer.
Cold in winter.
Walls so thin I could hear the neighbor's television.
The mold spreading across the wallpaper had practically become part of the interior design.
Vrrrr—
The sound of a washing machine echoed somewhere nearby.
It was eleven at night.
Anyone with common sense wouldn't be doing laundry at this hour.
Especially not in a building with no soundproofing.
"I'm sick of the noise too."
Everything about this place was a problem.
Until now, I'd stayed because I had no money.
Buzz.
My phone vibrated inside my pocket.
A text message.
[Deposit Notice]
Amount Deposited: 30,000,000 Won
"..."
Things were different now.
With just the switch, I could earn even more than this.
My fatigue disappeared instantly.
The endless string of zeros after the number three.
In the past, I'd have needed an entire year to earn that amount.
Not anymore.
"Fuu..."
Letting out a long breath, I sat on the edge of my bed and looked around the room.
The crushing fatigue I'd felt all day after repeatedly turning the switch on and off.
The problem wasn't acting itself.
It was the environment.
Rest that couldn't actually restore me.
No matter how much I slept here, I never truly recovered.
The noise.
The light.
The temperature.
Everything chipped away at my condition.
I'd considered buying a car.
But not anymore.
What was the point of driving a luxury car if I returned to a dump afterward?
'I'll move first.'
Without hesitation, I opened a real-estate app.
My conditions were simple.
Good soundproofing.
No mold.
No bugs.
Convenient access to broadcasting stations and filming locations.
Rent?
Maintenance fees?
I didn't care.
I could afford them now.
This was an investment in myself.
If I planned to earn even more money in the future, this much was necessary.
A tiny rooftop apartment filled with mold, noise, and darkness.
It was time to say goodbye.
[Mapo District Officetel / High Floor / Fully Furnished / Immediate Move-In Available]
The room in the pictures looked spacious and comfortable.
Most importantly, it had double-pane windows and a separate bedroom.
I immediately pressed the inquiry button.
[Can I view the room tomorrow? I already have the deposit ready.]
Message sent.
I placed the phone down and lay on the bed.
The mattress springs creaked beneath my back.
Footsteps thudded from the floor above.
But today, none of it annoyed me.
The noise.
The discomfort.
All of it would be gone tomorrow.
"So this is the last time I'll hear these sounds."
Tomorrow, I'd be looking at a new home.
Feeling my life steadily moving in a positive direction, I closed my eyes.
For the first time in a long while, my heart was completely at peace.
And with that calmness, I drifted off to sleep.