Bound for America (2)
The American itinerary was locked in at six days, round-trip travel included.
Yeon-woo was packing his suitcase at home for the U.S. schedule when his smartphone rang.
The screen showed a number that wasn't saved.
"Hello?"
"Yeon-woo, it's me."
"Jun-ho hyung?"
The voice on the other end belonged to An Jun-ho.
"Yeah. I'm shipping out for real soon. Wanted to call one last time before I go in."
Yeon-woo smiled faintly at that.
"Come on, you make it sound like you're marching off to die. The military's a place people manage to live through just fine."
"Hahaha. That so? Kid who hasn't even gone yet, talking like you've already done the tour."
As if he hadn't. Yeon-woo had walked roads of slaughter so hellish that ordinary military service would have felt like child's play.
"Anyway, I saw the articles. You're heading to America to shoot. An actual world star, huh."
"Hardly. Just a flash in the pan. White Blood's riding high right now, that's all."
"Doesn't look like a flash from where I'm standing. I always knew you'd blow up like this someday."
The sincerity in An Jun-ho's voice drew a smile from Yeon-woo.
"Hyung. Take care of yourself in there. Once you're discharged, good things might start piling up for you too. I'll work hard enough to make sure of it."
He had already snared the mid-tier actor Jeong Tae-seon. Once he finished confirming the rotten rope Tae-seon was clinging to, he fully intended to drag the man's true face into the light for the public. Jeong Tae-seon wasn't even one of Baeksol's seven core members—so the cartel wouldn't bolt into the shadows over something that small. That would naturally clear An Jun-ho's name and open a path back into the industry.
Of course An Jun-ho had no way of understanding any of that. He simply laughed and played along.
"Sure. I can hear the fire in you just from that. Can't wait to see what kind of monster star you've become by the time I get out."
They traded a few more goodbyes and hung up.
The phone rang again almost immediately.
"Calls coming in back-to-back. Yes, Mom?"
"Son. I heard you're going to America. Packed everything?"
"I was just finishing up."
"You packed the gochujang, right?"
A bead of sweat slid down Yeon-woo's temple at his mother's words from the other end of the line. He would never understand why she treated gochujang like a matter of national security. He hadn't packed any, of course—but he nodded as he answered.
"…Yes. I packed it."
"Good boy. Make sure you eat properly while you're over there."
He ended the call with his mother and finally finished packing.
After that he rested at an easy pace until word came that the car had arrived out front. He grabbed his suitcase and headed downstairs. Waiting below was a van larger than the one he usually rode in; Kim Min-su took Yeon-woo's suitcase and loaded it into the trunk.
"Min-su hyung. Different car today?"
"Yes. More people than usual. And I'm not driving today either."
Climbing in, Yeon-woo found the van already fairly full.
"Heyyy, look who it is—the leading man!"
"Yeon-woo oppa!"
Jeong Cheol-min and Han Byeol called out their greetings; behind them, Jeong Su-yeon quietly lifted a hand as well.
Ah. Right. None of the three has an agency right now.
Jeong Cheol-min had never been signed to one in the first place. Jeong Su-yeon had terminated her contract with Plus10 and, while preparing for announcer work, hadn't signed with anyone else.
Further back sat stylist Lee Ye-eun, Team Leader Yoon Mi-yeon, and a man Yeon-woo had never seen before.
"Everyone looks pretty fired up about going to America."
"Damn right we are. When do we ever get a perk like this?"
After exchanging greetings with the others in turn, Yeon-woo looked toward the unfamiliar man at the very back. The man offered his hand first.
"Hello, Actor Ryu Yeon-woo. I recently joined LN—I'm James Choi. I handle advisory work related to overseas investment attraction."
"Ah, I see. Pleasure to meet you."
Yeon-woo returned the greeting while a question turned over in his mind.
Local escort is Bernard Fenton's side taking full responsibility, and Team Leader Yoon Mi-yeon is more than enough as the company lead. So why the sudden appearance of some overseas-investment advisor?
He checked Yoon Mi-yeon's face. She looked every bit as displeased as he'd expected.
Joined the company recently, huh…
Something about it felt off.
"By the way, Mr. James, you look rather young to be an advisor. If you don't mind my asking—how old are you?"
"Haha. I'll take the flattery gladly. I'm older than I look, though. Year of the Rat."
"Really? Then you wouldn't be a '96 baby—so 1984? You've got an incredible baby face."
"Hearing that from someone this handsome is an honor."
Yeon-woo nodded at James Choi's words, settled into his seat, and fired off a message to Han Hae-un on his phone.
A reply came back before long.
On the way to the airport, Han Byeol chattered without pause, thoroughly wound up.
"Oppa! Have you been to America before?"
"No. Only Hawaii, as far as U.S. territory goes."
Of course he had been to the mainland more times than he could count.
"I've never even been on a plane! What if we fall?"
"Come on, that is never going to happen. Lower odds than getting in a car accident on the way to the airport."
He had once high-altitude high-opened out of a crashing military transport and infiltrated enemy territory on a HAHO jump—but a commercial airliner going down? Not likely.
The van pulled into the airport.
"All right, we've arrived."
To keep the schedule as tight as possible they had booked an evening departure; outside the windows, the sky was already darkening.
The van doors opened and Yeon-woo and the others stepped out.
Pop—.
Pop-pop-pop—.
Reporters' camera flashes turned the front of Incheon Airport's third-floor departure hall as bright as midday.
Yeon-woo smiled at the startled faces of his companions.
"Wave for them. The reporters came all this way just to see us off."
"Whoa. There are so many of them. Is this what a star's life is like…?"
Meanwhile Manager Kim Min-su, having unloaded the bags, began ushering them forward.
"Shall we head in?"
They pushed through the crowd, completed check-in, and linked up with Dong-ha and the staff who had arrived earlier and were waiting in the lounge.
"It almost feels like we're all going on a trip together. Kind of exciting."
"Yeah. We never even got a proper reward vacation, did we."
With a hit this massive, they could easily have taken two reward trips and still had room to spare. But unlike network dramas, Netflix kept generating revenue and climbing charts long after every episode had dropped—so nothing ever quite felt finished, and talk of a reward vacation never came up.
"The only official commitment is the talk-show appearance, so let's do some sightseeing the rest of the time."
Departure time arrived soon enough. The plane lifted off with Yeon-woo and his party aboard, crossed the Pacific, and lowered its landing gear at Los Angeles International Airport.
"Ahhhh. Slept great."
Han Byeol, who had fretted about crashing, had conked out not long after takeoff and only woken briefly for the in-flight meal.
The others rose from their seats and prepared to deplane.
As they walked the jet bridge connecting the aircraft to the terminal, Jeong Cheol-min scratched the back of his head with a distinctly uneasy look.
"Is immigration hard? My English is absolute garbage."
He eyed the rest of the group.
"Yeon-woo speaks who-knows-how-many languages like it's nothing. Dong-ha…"
Kim Min-su filled in from beside him.
"He's an idol—he should be fine."
"Right."
These days idols kept overseas schedules dense enough to rival diplomats.
"What about Su-yeon?"
"She was prepping to be an announcer, so…"
"Hmm. Fair."
Jeong Cheol-min turned last to Han Byeol—only for Kim Min-su to shake his head.
"Senior Jeong. Kids these days start English in kindergarten."
"Khah. So I'm the only one who can't."
"No, sir. I can't either. Let's go together."
In the end, Jeong Cheol-min and Kim Min-su walked side by side in lonely solidarity, reviewing likely questions.
Yeon-woo cleared immigration with ease and waited for the others—and Jeong Cheol-min—to come through.
"Hmm. Think he'll manage?"
At that moment, Jeong Cheol-min stood at the immigration counter, staring ahead with a tense expression.
"Passport, please."
"Passport? Okay, okay."
"Put your finger on the scanner."
"What? Ah—finger. Okay."
Nervous as he was, he stayed calm enough to catch the gist and follow instructions.
"Okay. What's the purpose of your visit?"
The officer's rapid-fire English threw Jeong Cheol-min.
Ah, what was that again. Was he asking about my job?
He scratched his cheek and answered anyway.
"Ah—I'm movie actor."
The officer looked back and forth between the passport and Jeong Cheol-min with a suspicious squint.
Damn it. Wrong answer?
Then the immigration officer seemed to catch on and clapped his hands.
"Ohhh—Deepangdal?"
"Yes, yes! I'm Deepangdal!"
Fortunately the officer recognized him, laughed, and waved him through. Jeong Cheol-min strode out looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
Yeon-woo approached with a smile of pure relief.
"Teacher. Everything go all right?"
"Hahaha. Easy, actually? Had a little chat and came right through. Turns out the kid recognized me. Ahem."
Once everyone had cleared immigration safely, the group swapped out SIM cards on their phones, collected their luggage, and made bathroom runs. After the usual post-landing shuffle they headed toward the arrivals gate—and found a surprisingly large crowd waiting in the terminal.
"…Huh? Don't tell me they're here for us?"
"Come on, this is America. Probably just a lot of people waiting for friends and family."
Beyond the glass doors of the gate, it wasn't a crushing throng, but there had to be several dozen people at least.
The moment the cast members—previously hidden among the staff—appeared on the other side of the gate, a few fans cried out.
"Wait—okay, yeah, it's us."
Yeon-woo and Dong-ha waved. The gathered crowd answered with cheers, phones and cameras raised.
Moments later Bernard Fenton appeared with his bodyguards.
"It's been a while, Mr. Ryu."
"Ah—Mr. Fenton."
"From here on, security is our responsibility. Shall we?"
Yeon-woo and his party followed the guards' lead and climbed into the waiting cars.
"I came straight over earlier because I was worried about the crowd, so I never got a proper greeting in. Bernard Fenton—I handle global sales for White Blood."
After introducing himself formally to the group, Fenton took the seat beside Yeon-woo.
"Ryu. You've worked incredibly hard. Glad the results came out so well."
"Is that so. It was only possible because you coordinated everything so smoothly in the middle, Mr. Fenton."
Bernard Fenton smiled at that.
"My eye for people clearly hasn't gone dull. Who could have predicted it would turn out this well? I simply trusted Mr. Kim of LN and Actor Ryu's judgment—and invested in the people."
Listening to Bernard Fenton hand every bit of credit to CEO Kim Ju-seong and himself, Yeon-woo allowed himself a small smile.
Then the phone in his pocket vibrated.
Yeon-woo pulled it out and checked the message.
Another message arrived right on its heels.
Reading the messages, Yeon-woo broke into a sharp grin.
Jeong Tae-seon—the mid-tier actor whose phone Yeon-woo had hacked at the awards ceremony. Which meant this James Choi was a plant Baeksol had embedded.
What kind of game are you trying to run, following us all the way to America? Got you, you bastard.