The Gift
After the screening, Yeon-woo, Director Park Chan-hong, and Seo Ji-eun worked through a full slate of commitments, including a signing event. Once they had returned to the hotel to regroup, they made their way to the evening reception to which they had been invited.
"Director, the gentleman approaching us now is Nicolas Schueller, founder of the French cosmetics house Belice."
"Hmm. You really are something else."
Park Chan-hong, leaning on Yeon-woo's assistance, was so busy shaking hands he could barely keep up. He nodded at Yeon-woo's whispered briefing, repeating the name under his breath several times, then clasped hands with the elderly gentleman who had drawn near and exchanged greetings.
"Director Park? I found your film deeply moving. This old man actually teared up — rather undignified of me, I'm afraid."
"Mr. Schueller. It's an honor to meet you."
"Oh? I was told you came from Korea — you know who I am? Ha! The honor is entirely mine."
From influential figures with a genuine interest in cinema to young entrepreneurs and politicians working the room to expand their networks, Park Chan-hong found himself continually astonished by Yeon-woo's information and memory — the way the young man identified every notable guest from business and politics, briefed him in advance, and still managed the introductions with ease.
Seo Ji-eun, for her part, had already fallen in with other actors the moment they arrived and was chatting away in a corner of the reception hall.
Yeon-woo watched Nicolas Schueller converse with Director Park and gave a quiet nod to himself.
Belice is the single largest sponsor among the main backers of this year's Berlin Film Festival.
Standing at Park Chan-hong's side, Yeon-woo stepped forward and offered his hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm the actor Ryu Yeon-woo."
The flawless French that left Yeon-woo's mouth made Nicolas Schueller's eyes go round.
"Oh, a pleasure. I still have the name Jay stuck in my head, you know. I thoroughly enjoyed the film. And your French is remarkably fluent."
"France is the cradle of cinema. Shouldn't an actor study French as a matter of course?"
A smile bloomed across Nicolas's face.
"Ha-ha! Is that how you see it? I rather like this young actor."
Le berceau du cinéma — the cradle of cinema. It was the phrase the French reached for whenever they wished to elevate their own film industry. The Lumière brothers had invented "cinema" itself in France in 1895, but as world film history had come to revolve around Hollywood, French pride in their cinema had only grown sharper in response. Yeon-woo touched that nerve with precision, scratching the exact itch of a known cinephile like Nicolas Schueller.
Park Chan-hong could only tilt his head, watching the two of them exchange words in a language he did not understand while the chairman of Belice grinned from ear to ear in pure satisfaction.
After a few more exchanges, Nicolas turned to greet others. Park Chan-hong spoke to Yeon-woo.
"Still, I wonder what any of this is really for. It's my first time attending an overseas festival, you know. I always thought making a good film was enough."
Yeon-woo smiled.
"Of course we compete on the strength of the film itself. But it doesn't hurt if an Asian film isn't treated as second-class. If we want to start from the same line as everyone else, building a few relationships first isn't a bad idea, is it?"
"You're right. Moments like this, you sound like a seasoned politician. No — even on ordinary days, I can hardly believe you're a twenty-year-old."
"Director. I'm twenty-one now. The year turned, and I gained one."
Park Chan-hong snorted a laugh and shook his head.
"Twenty or twenty-one — same difference."
Having spent the previous night shaking hands with endless industry figures under Yeon-woo's guidance, Park Chan-hong had woken feeling as though his arms were about to fall off.
"Politics really isn't for just anyone. It's manual labor."
If a single night of handshakes could leave a man this sore, the politicians who shook hands thousands of times on the campaign trail and bowed their heads again and again suddenly seemed formidable. And when he thought back on Yeon-woo the night before, a smile touched the director's lips. It was as if Pierre Choi from Master Plan — the character with whom he had first found perfect creative rhythm — had stepped out of the screen and into the room.
Yeon-woo moved through the reception like a force of nature. Wherever he approached a key figure, laughter bloomed around him. His command of conversation bent the atmosphere to his will. How many languages the young man was fluent in, Park Chan-hong could only marvel at.
The hotel phone rang. Park Chan-hong went to answer it.
"Yes, speaking."
"Director! We're going sightseeing around Berlin — want to come with us?"
Seo Ji-eun's bright voice came through the receiver. He smiled, rolled one shoulder, and rubbed the back of his neck as he answered.
"No. I'm too tired — I'll rest in my room. You young people go on without me."
"Yes, Director. We'll bring you a present!"
When Yeon-woo finished getting ready and came down to the lobby, Seo Ji-eun and Kim Min-su were already waiting.
"These gentlemen were assigned by the festival as bodyguards, sir."
Yeon-woo looked where Min-su indicated. Two tall, solidly built men gave a slightly awkward bow in the East Asian style.
Hmm? That mark…
Noticing the tattoo on the side of one bodyguard's neck, Yeon-woo offered his hand.
"Thank you for looking after us today. You're SEK, I take it."
The big man's eyes went wide as he clasped Yeon-woo's hand.
"Oh — how did you know? And your German is excellent."
"I recognized the mark on your neck. With you two here, I doubt we'll run into any real trouble today."
SEK was the counterterrorism unit under Germany's Special Operations Command. Personnel of this caliber suggested the festival's organizing office was taking their security seriously.
Yeon-woo and the others climbed into the car and headed for the commercial district.
"Should we wear masks?"
Yeon-woo shook his head at Seo Ji-eun's question.
"We've got the bodyguards with us. A mask wouldn't hide who we are anyway. Only Korean tourists are likely to recognize us."
As expected, they managed a comfortable outing without being swarmed by fans.
"Huh. Even the Koreans aren't coming over."
Back home they would have been surrounded in moments, buried under photo and autograph requests.
"Look behind us."
Seo Ji-eun turned at Yeon-woo's words and saw one of the bodyguards scanning every passerby near them with a forbidding gaze. The lead bodyguard cleared the path ahead; the one trailing behind was poised to move the instant anyone drew too close.
"Ah. So it's not that they won't come over — they can't."
She nodded and wandered freely among the nearby shops. Then she stopped and called Yeon-woo over.
"Look at this! Isn't it adorable?"
What she pointed to was a teddy bear inside a glass case — the white bear that served as the Berlin Film Festival's mascot. A sign on the large glass cabinet read one euro per game, and the presence of a claw, despite the different design, made it clear this was a prize machine.
Outside the Christmas season, you almost never see arcade machines like this in Berlin.
The festival was a celebration in its own right, so they had likely dusted off the machines that came out for Christmas and put them back into service.
"Isn't this the same bear the organizing committee gave us as a gift when we arrived at the Theater am Potsdamer Platz?"
"No! Completely different. That one has a blank expression and its left arm raised. This one is smiling and has its right arm up. And it's cuter."
Yeon-woo scratched the back of his head. His eye for detail and memory far outstripped an ordinary person's, yet even after hearing her explanation he could not quite see the difference.
The one we got came from the official office, so is this a knockoff…?
He swallowed the thought in front of Seo Ji-eun's shining eyes and took out his wallet. Exchanging for one-euro coins, he looked at her.
"You have to win it with the claw. Think you can do it?"
"I don't know… I've never actually tried one."
Yeon-woo fed a coin into the machine.
"It's the same claw principle. Keep at it long enough and it should come free."
Seo Ji-eun went first.
"I've got a feeling. Right here! Perfect, perfect."
She positioned the claw directly over the bear's head and hit the button. The claw dropped straight down, gripped the head cleanly — then opened weakly as it tried to lift.
"Aah! What?!"
She tried several more times and failed every one. Glancing sideways at Yeon-woo, she finally took her hands off the joystick and button.
"Yeon-woo, you get it for me. You're good at everything."
"Well… I've never done one of these in my life either."
Yeon-woo took over.
Hmm. Bears are carnivores among mammals, so if you want one, you go for the neck from behind in a single strike…
It was not a thought that seemed likely to help, but he used every bit of his spatial sense to place the claw where, if it dropped true, its sharp prongs would seize the creature by the throat.
Now.
Click.
He pressed the button. The claw dropped and locked onto the neck of the sideways-smiling bear in one motion. Slowly, the bear began to rise.
"Ah! You got it!"
But even as Seo Ji-eun cried out, the bear slipped free of the claw and tumbled limply to the floor — landing head-down, now even harder to grab than before.
Yeon-woo scratched his cheek.
"Ah. Ruined it."
"Ahem. Sorry."
Planted upside down in the prize bed, the bear offered no obvious angle of attack.
Then a low voice spoke behind them.
"Heh. I step away to the restroom, and here you are."
Yeon-woo and Seo Ji-eun turned together. Manager Kim Min-su stood there smiling. A fierce presence seemed to radiate from him, an invisible aura rolling off his frame.
"Whoa — what is that? There's a glowing halo behind Min-su oppa…"
She was not wrong. The sunset light at dusk fell behind Kim Min-su where he stood in the entrance, heightening that overwhelming presence. Fresh from washing his hands, he approached with both still-damp palms raised like a surgeon about to enter an operating room. The sunlight caught the water on his skin, and his hands glittered.
"The little fellow's in a difficult spot. Allow me. Claw machines and I go back a ways."
Ever since the critical moment during the Paju shoot of Master Plan, when he had performed an extraordinary service, claw machines had become Kim Min-su's private hobby. Yeon-woo and Seo Ji-eun stepped back instinctively before that inexplicable force of presence. Kim Min-su moved past them and laid his hands on the joystick and button with something close to reverence.
"Hmm. See, the problem is this one is jammed in upside down — a special case."
He positioned the claw above the target white bear and worked the joystick with dazzling precision. The claw began to spin.
"You rotate it like this, and at the peak of that motion—"
Click.
He hit the button. The claw descended still spinning, wheeled around the inverted, handstanding white bear, and locked onto its body at a right angle. Then — utterly unlike every attempt before — the bear rose cleanly into the air.
"Ooooh."
By then a cluster of German elementary school children had gathered alongside Yeon-woo and Seo Ji-eun. The bear rode smoothly to the chute and dropped free.
Clunk.
"Here you are."
Seo Ji-eun burst into applause — louder, it seemed, than when the end credits of Sketch had rolled the night before.
"That was incredible! Thank you!"
She hugged the bear to her chest, beaming.
While Yeon-woo and the others were absorbed in the claw machine, Director Park Chan-hong — resting at the hotel — was jolted from a nap by the phone.
"Mmm. Back already?"
Assuming it was Yeon-woo or Seo Ji-eun, he heaved his stiff body upright and reached for the phone on the nightstand.
"Hello."
"Did I catch you at a bad time, sir?"
"No problem."
At the deep, resonant voice on the other end, Park Chan-hong straightened. As the conversation continued, he rose abruptly to his feet.
"Is that true? Yes. I understand. Have a good evening."
Beyond the hotel balcony, the setting sun painted the sky. Park Chan-hong nodded firmly, as if the light itself were moving something in his chest — just as it had in a scene from one of his own scripts.
"I don't know what present Yeon-woo and Ji-eun will bring back," he said, a broad grin spreading across his face as he remembered Seo Ji-eun's cheerful promise to buy him a gift before she left, "but I have a feeling mine will be bigger."