People of Line 2 (1)
In South Korean society, the thread of personal connections held tremendous power. Otherwise, why would phrases like academic ties, regional ties, and blood ties float around so often? Even in the narrow theater scene of Daehak-ro, connections mattered.
Networking was the same. After all, the entertainment industry was ultimately a business of who you knew.
This held true for the Youth theater troupe performing in Daehak-ro. Though they were literally youths nurturing their dreams in small theaters, a clear hierarchy existed even among them.
"Dan-wol's been ghosting us for two whole weeks now!"
"Ah, shit. What the hell are we supposed to do!"
It wasn't spoken in a scolding tone. Even though it was merely reporting the situation, Jang Geon-woo sounded irritated. The members who knew the context wanted to hold him accountable but couldn't.
First, he was a male actor. There were many male roles, but male actors to perform them were in short supply.
Second, his connections were far from ordinary. Rumors swirled that he had ties to a major corporation and would soon show his face on the big screen beyond the theater world. That he'd be signed by a large agency any day now.
With all these factors combined, no one in this place dared to offend him. It was a fact known to everyone except two people.
"You just have to put up with it. What would the kids know."
"Got it, Hyeon-ah."
When the actress named Seo Hyeon-ah wrapped an arm around his shoulder, the man softened his anger. If one were to name the most famous actress here, Seo Hyeon-ah would come first. She was a phoenix among chickens, but still a frog in a well. That description would suffice.
"The performance is tomorrow. This is the final show. Can someone try to persuade him?"
"His phone's been off this whole time. Do you think he'll answer?"
"Ah, fuck. Then why don't you grow a dick or something."
The youngest member had spoken the truth, but it was useless. In front of absolute power, truth didn't matter. Sweet flattery was far more palatable.
The responsibility and cleanup fell to the youngest member. It was unfair and infuriating, but what could she do? This was reality; this was society.
When Jang Geon-woo had stolen Woo Dan-wol's role, the sin of standing by and watching had come back around like this. If they couldn't find him, it was obvious the youngest member would shoulder all the blame.
As the man had said, grow a dick or something. Even if they found a temporary replacement, the moment a hole appeared in the acting, it would tarnish the troupe's name. Of all times, this had to happen right before the final performance.
The youngest member, Son Si-yeong, entered the cafe and made the call. Hoping he would answer, she pressed the button. At that moment—
"……!!"
The ringtone sounded! After five previous attempts where it had always been off, the smartphone was now on. Son Si-yeong clasped her hands together in a praying posture. Please let it reach him…!
Had her desperation worked? The call connected, and a man's voice came through.
"Hello?"
"Ah, ah! Sunbae! Did something happen to you?"
Son Si-yeong, standing at rigid attention, was flustered by the cold voice. Given what had happened, how could he extend kindness to someone from the same group? Unless he was a saint, it was a natural reaction.
"Yes. Well. This is Son Si-yeong, correct?"
"……."
A short silence. The image of him smiling with casual speech and looking after the youngest member had vanished. As if accusing her for having stood by, his polite address flew like a cold dagger and stabbed into her chest. What should she say? After a brief hesitation, Son Si-yeong regained her composure only after hearing his voice again.
"Son Si-yeong from the Youth theater troupe. Yes, that's me."
"Ah… what is this regarding…?"
Was he doing it on purpose? Or was he pressing the point even though he knew? From Son Si-yeong's perspective she couldn't tell, but the words she needed to say were already decided.
"The performance is tomorrow… and we haven't been able to reach you for two weeks."
"Hmm..."
She had said it. She had gone and said it. To the person whose important role had been stolen and who had been reduced to a minor part with few lines. To the person who must have suffered all kinds of insults and comparisons, enduring mental damage. Son Si-yeong wanted to apologize to him immediately.
For having stood by, for having only moved once the arrow flew toward herself. The unexpected voice flowing through the smartphone.
"It's People of Line 2, right?"
"Yes…"
"Where are you?"
"I'm at… the first-floor cafe of Cheong-eo-ram Art Hall..."
"I'll be right there. About twenty minutes?"
"Ah, ah. Yes. Thank you, sunbae!"
Her emotions were complicated. But relief came first—the relief that the performance hadn't been ruined.
To calm her restless and uneasy heart, she drank her coffee. But she had already finished it long ago. The penniless youngest member of the troupe endlessly chewed on the ice.
Time passed. After about twenty minutes, a kind of anxiety began to sprout. He wasn't lying just to get rid of her, was he?
It must have been unfounded worry. The door opened and Woo Dan-wol walked in. At the sight of him, Son Si-yeong's eyes gradually widened. It was as if he were a completely different person.
His shoulders, which used to be hunched and unable to straighten fully, were now held proudly upright. His gaze, which used to read the room and stare at the ground rather than look straight ahead, was now direct. Above all, his eyes—which had lacked confidence, wandered in confusion, and been filled with the torment of harassment—now shone brilliantly. What had happened in those two weeks? The man himself had been transformed.
The only strange thing was that even after their eyes met, his gaze was still wandering. The suspicion that he might be deliberately ignoring her felt wrong. In the end, she raised her hand first.
"Sunbae! Over here!"
Only then did Woo Dan-wol come to the table. He scratched his cheek, let out a short breath, and said.
"I'm sorry. I have amnesia."
It might have sounded too abrupt, but from his position there was no helping it. He couldn't remember, but the other person did, so it was to prevent unnecessary misunderstandings.
"Excuse me…?"
That didn't make the sudden statement any less abrupt. But Son Si-yeong accepted it. How much stress must he have been under to become like this? When Woo Dan-wol tried to show her the hospital records, she stopped his hand.
"If you look here..."
"It's fine. It's fine! Sunbae."
Woo Dan-wol nodded. The more she looked, the more exceptional his aura seemed, giving her a strange feeling. The always intimidated man with low self-esteem was gone. In his place, a confident, smiling angel had descended.
At the same time, her heart grew heavier. She had heard his circumstances, but how was she supposed to explain it? It was quite difficult.
"By any chance, did something happen? Did I cause you harm or something?"
"No, it's not that..."
Her hesitating lips parted. She crumbled under Woo Dan-wol's considerate words. That expression paired with such gentle speech—it was cheating.
Taking a deep breath, Son Si-yeong confessed everything. At the same time, she apologized.
Son Si-yeong explaining the past Woo Dan-wol whom he no longer remembered. He listened with a contemplative expression, nodding throughout. He occasionally glanced around but gestured for her to continue.
He let out occasional sighs. In the end, he too breathed a deep sigh.
Having heard the full story, Woo Dan-wol paused to organize his thoughts for a moment before speaking to her. There was an order to everything.
Her courage was tremendous. How many people would honestly confess their own wrongdoing? There would surely be those who, depending on their values, didn't even think they had done anything wrong. That made Son Si-yeong's actions all the more remarkable. Therefore, he expressed his gratitude.
"Thank you, junior. What did I usually call you?"
"Ah, I was just called Si-yeong."
In truth he had called her Son Si-yeong. But seeing his face that knew nothing, the spoonful of self-interest she added was her little secret. Moreover, him saying thank you. Since she hadn't done well and had in fact done wrong, the words of gratitude sounded incredibly awkward.
"Would someone else have been able to act as you did, junior? Standing by is certainly bad, but it's difficult to place the blame."
"Ah..."
Especially in the incredibly narrow theater world, it was even worse. Wasn't it a place where no matter how skilled you were, you could be pushed aside because of connections? It must have been a difficult environment for a man nurturing dreams to endure. Of course, this didn't apply to Woo Dan-wol. He was confident.
"Let's go to the troupe."
"I-is that okay?"
"Yes. Si-yeong, I have one request."
"Yes, sunbae."
It wasn't a big request. It was simply not to tell the others that he had amnesia. Normally he would have sought understanding from the other troupe members, but to the men and women who had harassed Woo Dan-wol, it would clearly become a weakness. It seemed better to show them how much he had changed over the two weeks.
"Dan-wol's here?"
"Sorry for disappearing. I wasn't feeling well."
"I bet. Have you practiced the role?"
It was mockery disguised as concern, not worry. The person who spat out such words was Jang Geon-woo. The only other male actor besides Woo Dan-wol, and the very one who had stolen the role of Han Seong-hun that had originally been his.
The two-lead role. He had stolen the part with the most weight. He was likely one of the people who had driven the original world's Woo Dan-wol to that point.
Feelings of revenge did not surface. Since it wasn't something he himself had experienced, he hadn't felt the pain, nor could he truly empathize.
However, it was despicable. His behavior. Both as an actor and as a person. The type who created conflict in a place where everyone should unite their strength to complete the play. If one was involved in acting, such people were unavoidable.
And it was one of the categories Woo Dan-wol hated the most. Just look at him now.
"Practice? It shouldn't matter. There's no need to match it anyway."
It was an insult. It could have been said as a joke, but it wasn't something the person who had stolen the role should say. A character who appeared only four times in ninety minutes. Because it was the role with the shortest presence and fewest lines, he looked down on it.
Son Si-yeong watched the mood. Not only her, but the other nameless actors held their breath. The atmosphere froze coldly. It was the kind of tension where anger could boil over and explode at any moment, but—
"Of course. I've prepared it perfectly."
He was smiling.