The First Coffee Truck
I-leum.
A word had come into existence — a name that now bound Seo I-deun and Han Yeo-reum together.
"Ever since Han Yeo-reum took the Music N MC job, her overseas follower count has been climbing too... tch."
She was enjoying the full benefit of Seo I-deun's international fame. Foreign viewers of Music N called the two of them I-leum as well, lovingly pairing them together.
"No matter how pretty an image is right now — the moment you get on fans' bad side, it can fall straight into the gutter..."
The view count had already blown past two hundred thousand.
Over four hundred dislikes had registered on the thumbs-down icon, but the likes were running neck and neck with them.
"See, I knew it would happen. Han Yeo-reum too — the more she sticks her nose out everywhere, the more people she's going to annoy."
Click-click. Click-click. Click-click.
Her eyes swept rapidly from left to right across the comments, and the whir of the mouse wheel echoed without pause.
"Which is exactly why... she should really stop showing off."
A thin laugh slipped out between her pale, chapped lips. Unlike last time, the tide was evenly split this go-around. And sure enough, there was no better ammunition for attacking a female celebrity than this.
Would you like to log out?
Clack.
She logged back in under a different ID and began hammering the keys, firing off her reply in seconds.
Truly vicious hate comments were, of course, punishable by law — but a comment at this level sat comfortably inside the safe zone.
"But building up an atmosphere like this..."
...dealt a devastating critical hit to the celebrity in question. Why else would agencies pour such effort into crafting an image?
A celebrity was, in the end, a brand. Entertainers lived and died by their image.
Which was why she wanted Han Yeo-reum to break before she ever had the chance to establish a real one.
"...Or rather. It shouldn't have been Han Yeo-reum at all..."
Her bloodshot eyes lifted slowly from the screen to somewhere beyond the laptop.
Do Gyeo-ul's new soju advertisement — a glossy poster — covered the wall of the room like wallpaper.
"I wish it had been Gyeo-ul who got the Music N MC seat..."
Right there on the portal page, beneath the post about Han Yeo-reum, an article about Faster Than the Law had appeared. The upturned corners of her mouth snapped back to neutral in an instant.
"And she isn't even the lead..."
The bright glow of the monitor cast shadows across an expressionless face, as if she had never smiled at all.
"A mere — a mere — a mere...! A supporting role, of all things...!"
Unable to contain the tremor running through her body, she fumbled for the mouse, gripped it again, and clicked on the article. She scrolled down — and pressed the dislike button first.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Then, one after another, she downvoted every single comment that had anything kind to say about Han Yeo-reum.
"So annoying..."
Her thumb had found its way to her murmuring lips at some point, gnawing. With a faint scraping sound, blood welled up at her fingertip.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
Just then, the phone sitting beside her laptop buzzed irritatingly. She glanced once at the name on the screen, drew a deep breath — and then, as if nothing had ever happened, picked up in a bright, sunny voice.
"Yeah? What's up?"
The person on the other end was in such high spirits that she could never have guessed what had happened moments before.
"Eun-seol! Are you free this weekend? We said we'd get our nails done together last time, remember? This place does two people at the same time. When I told them you have a habit of biting your hands, the owner said to bring you straight over."
Eun-seol stared for a moment at her chewed-up hand, then answered with honeyed affection.
"Yeah. Should we?"
"You really need to fix that nail-biting habit fast-. That's the only way you can keep going to auditions."
"I suppose I do..."
A world where one person had to grind through audition after audition, while another was being pushed to absurd heights by JC ENM. What an unfair place.
"It really isn't easy, huh."
Eun-seol smiled, thin and bitter.
"Oh, unnie, look at this! I am officially a star. People are talking about me everywhere these days."
"What on earth is this? Looking at ugly things like this rots your brain... Mm-hm. You know, now that I think of it, you're always searching up strange things?"
I could not stop my chest from swelling as I read the post sitting on the Best board. This was hardly my first time making the cut, either.
One day it was a glowing tribute; another day it was a soft, intermittent drizzle of hate.
"Hate and love travel together, they say... I'm honestly losing my mind. I've really grown this much..."
Goodbye forever to my Screaming Woman No. 1 days. I had finally made it big — truly big.
'Who am I?'
Winner of the Jury Special Newcomer Award at the Seoul International Drama Awards. Star of a web drama that drove Blu-ray sales up a staggering 247 percent. Attended at an awards ceremony by a fan — one whole fan. A face in the teaser trailer for this year's most anticipated film, Faster Than the Law. The lead of living legend Geum Bit-gang's comeback work, Gimyodam. A Rising Actor with her very own post trending on the portal sites. Han Yeo-reum.
"Stop staring at that and come stand in front of the camera."
Dokgo Min, camera in hand, waved me over.
I pressed a hand over my swelling heart. Clearly, one more line needed to be added to that list.
☕ The sugared and dried persimmons on top belong to the lead! ☕
— With love from the Pachehi team, cheering on Gimyodam —
Han Yeo-reum, recipient of her very first coffee truck.
'Even if I had, admittedly, extorted half of it.'
I cast my mind back a few days. The moment my first shooting schedule was set, I had called Chu Ga-eul.
"What? You're calling ME first for once? You barely even answer my texts these days."
The retort — that's because you text me from the moment I open my eyes until the moment I close them, Ga-eul — climbed all the way to the tip of my tongue before barely sliding back down.
Contrary to appearances, Chu Ga-eul was an absolute girly-girl at heart. Her middle-school-girl sensibility remained fully intact.
'And she had sulked SO hard about being unreachable while I was at that training camp...'
It had taken a while to smooth her over. Even so, the pout hadn't fully dissipated, and she was still snapping at me.
So I spoke with the utmost tenderness to my precious friend.
"Ga-eul-ah. Send me a coffee truck."
"So THAT'S why you called me!!!"
"I've dreamed of this my whole life, you know... the coffee truck verification shot..."
Chu Ga-eul shrieked that I was unbelievable, but she didn't hang up. That was proof I was already halfway there.
"Fine... then I suppose I'll ask somebody else to do it."
"What? What other actor do you even know besides me?!"
"Sorry for getting your hopes up... just pretend you didn't hear that... It's just, for a first coffee truck, I thought it would make the longest-lasting memory if my closest friend was the one to do it... No, wait. What am I even saying. Honestly."
"Yah! Han Yeo-reum! Hold on a second!"
For the record, the only actors I actually knew were Chu Ga-eul and Ju Jun-seo. It had been a bluff.
Yoon Hyun-jo? Not close. Gwak Cheol-sik? Same. I am, after all, a person who knows what honoring one's elders means — so the seniors were excluded.
"I'll make sure that when the time comes, yours is the very first coffee truck I ever send... You're a woman destined to become a lead, after all..."
"Yah! Who said they wouldn't do it?!"
And just like that, Chu Ga-eul took the bait. I was about to move on to Ju Jun-seo when —
Bzzzt.
Chu Ga-eul had posted in the group chat, pointedly where Ju Jun-seo could see it. Within three seconds, my phone was ringing — Ju Jun-seo.
"Hello...?"
"Are you seriously sorting people by how close you are with them? Why would you take a conversation you had privately with Chu Ga-eul and post it in the group chat? I've been keeping an eye on you since last time, and..."
Was Ju Jun-seo's memory good, or bad? His standard-issue tantrum had, by now, evolved into a beautifully polished format, customized on the spot to fit whatever the situation demanded.
"Of course! The Pachehi team is family! You and Chu Ga-eul should absolutely do it together!"
Truthfully, I had wanted to milk each of them separately, in two rounds.
Because that's how a man's pride crumbles.
"...Then why did you tell her first?"
"Senior, if I hash out the details with Ga-eul first, it won't eat into your time while you're filming in Hong Kong. I'm wounded, truly... our shallow, fragile bond... stained, it seems, with distrust and scolding..."
"No need to go that far. Fine, whatever — hanging up."
Even without a single groveling emoji, Ju Jun-seo had softened. Playing pathetic really did work wonders.
I could practically see his manager's face hovering in the empty air before me, wearing an expression that said he saw through absolutely everything.
"Perfect. Coffee truck, secured."
And so I stood gazing at the truck parked in front of me. There had been any number of hurdles along the way, but it was, at long last, my first-ever coffee truck. Everywhere my eyes landed, my own face stared back.
Announcing, unmistakably, to anyone who looked that this was for Han Yeo-reum.
"Unnie! Take a TON of pictures of me!"
"Of course-. You don't even have to ask."
I posed for photo after photo alongside the coffee truck of my dreams. I had planned to smile in a dignified, measured way — but it turned out that was easier said than done.
That's right. This was Han Yeo-reum's film set now.
A place where my name was finally allowed to hang, big and proud, for all to see.
At long last, the first shoot of Gimyodam had begun.
This was the Namyangju Studio Complex, in Gyeonggi Province.
Operated by the Korean Film Council and the Korean Film Archive, it offered not only traditional hanok sets but fully realized urban streets and everyday spaces as well. Stone-walled lanes and gardens and market alleys, naturally — but also hospitals, police stations, schools, apartment complexes; there was no set it didn't have. Perched on the city's outskirts with genuine mountains and a river within reach, it was a location beloved beyond measure by people in the industry.
'And they can even build custom sets on site. There's simply nowhere else like it!'
Aside from a handful of scenes slated for provincial locations, Gimyodam would unfold here.
Director Jjang smiled contentedly as he watched Summer, who showed no sign of tiring of the delight glowing on her face in front of the coffee truck.
"Alright! Yeo-reum! Setup's almost finished — get ready!"
"Yes-! On it!"
Waving both hands with a face entirely untouched by nerves, Summer transformed — completely — into Seoryeong.
A worn, unbleached hanbok and straw sandals frayed at the edges; a wretched, poverty-stricken getup. And yet her eyes alone glittered like jewels that no gemstone could rival.
The Seoryeong that Summer had created wore the face of a young beast, burning with curiosity about the whole wide world.