Awards Ceremony (2)
This is my first time presenting an award.
Yeon-woo had swept both the drama and film Excellence Awards the previous year, which was precisely why he had been selected as a presenter this time around. He stood waiting backstage, ready to pass on the glory he himself had received last year to the actor who would claim this year's Best Actor Excellence Award in the drama category.
Meanwhile, Yeon-woo's family, watching the Korea Arts Awards on television at home, clasped their hands together.
"He took home two Excellence Awards last year. Don't you think he's got a real shot at a Grand Prize this year?"
Lee Seon-ok nodded at Ryu Cheol-ung's words.
"Of course. Our son's film Sketch even brought home a bigger prize from Germany."
"Mom, White Blood was the bigger hit, though."
Middle-aged viewers tended to rate Sketch more highly, while the younger generation preferred White Blood—the series foreigners on YouTube were unanimously raving about, filling them with a surge of national pride.
Then Yeon-woo walked out from backstage to present the Best Actor Excellence Award in the drama category.
When he had been sitting in the audience, the cameras had mostly just framed his face, so no one had quite realized—but watching him stride onto the stage, his tall frame in a luxurious black suit accented with gold made him the absolute pinnacle of glamour.
"Whoa, that's insane. Mom, look at that."
"What do you mean, 'that'? That's your brother."
"I meant the TV."
People supposedly grew numb to the looks of faces they saw every day, but Yeon-woo had spent nearly his entire life growing up overweight, so even to his family he always seemed brand new.
His younger sister Ryu So-hyun quickly pulled out her smartphone to check the real-time internet reactions.
Meanwhile, the cue card in Yeon-woo's hand was filled with lines the broadcast writers had prepared—awkward, half-baked jokes that didn't seem likely to land. He set the card down on the podium beneath the microphone, lifted his gaze to the audience, and waited with an easy smile until the hall quieted. Then, without looking at a single line of script, he began to speak.
Before coming up, they had told him he didn't necessarily have to stick to the script.
"Good evening. It's an honor to stand before so many brilliant stars."
In truth, the most brilliant star in the room was himself—but the words flowed from him as smoothly as water.
"It feels like only yesterday that I debuted as a rookie and received an award myself. And as it happens, Senior Gu Do-hyeon, who presented that award to me back then, is sitting right here in front of me."
Yeon-woo gestured leisurely toward the actor seated ahead of him. The camera briefly cut to the audience before returning to him.
"And yet somehow I've ended up on this stage as a presenter, handing an award to another actor. I truly consider it an honor."
Yeon-woo drew out the gold envelope that had been waiting behind the cue card. Inside would be the winner's name.
They asked me to fill about twenty seconds before the actual presentation. This should be just about right.
He nodded to himself and opened the envelope.
"Then I shall present the award. The 57th Korea Arts Awards Best Actor Excellence Award in the Drama Category."
The moment he saw the name written on the card, Yeon-woo broke into a bright smile.
"Actor Son Jin-uk of the drama Prisoner—congratulations."
At Yeon-woo's words, the actors seated at Saebyeol's table rose once more and applauded. Son Jin-uk stood from the table on the opposite side, where the cast of Prisoner was seated, and walked toward the stage.
It wasn't just anyone—being able to hand the award to Son Jin-uk himself had Yeon-woo genuinely excited. When Jin-uk reached the stage, Yeon-woo passed him the trophy and pulled him into a light embrace.
"Hyung. Congratulations."
"Whoa—so Yu-han gave it to you, and now you're giving it to me."
Come to think of it, that was exactly how it had gone. Jin Yu-han had won the Best Actor Excellence Award at the 55th ceremony, then come up as a presenter the following year to hand the award to Yeon-woo.
Son Jin-uk leaned in and murmured quietly,
"Nice. Let's just keep sweeping them among ourselves from now on."
Yeon-woo looked at Jin-uk's face and found him grinning with a mischievous expression. Even without that playful look, he would have known the words were half in jest. Awards weren't something you could simply want and receive—you only earned them by meeting the right project and pouring every ounce of yourself into the performance.
And yet Yeon-woo went on to win two of those awards himself.
Both of them: the Best Actor Grand Prize in the drama category and the Best Actor Grand Prize in the film category.
Yeon-woo rose and walked the red carpet. He had already received the Best Actor Grand Prize in the film category for Sketch earlier that evening. Because of that, he had never expected to sweep both categories the way he had last year. The moment he accepted the award for Sketch, he had thought, I suppose, given the domestic climate, it's still hard for a drama that premiered on OTT to take a top prize—and had half given up on White Blood.
But against his expectations, just as he had the year before, he claimed both the drama and film Grand Prizes.
As Yeon-woo walked the red carpet, actors rose from every table he passed and gave him a standing ovation. The charisma radiating from him made it feel less like he was collecting a Grand Prize and more like he was ascending to claim the overall Grand Prize itself. Combined with tonight's attire and the red carpet, he looked like an emperor walking of his own accord to place a crown upon his head.
The actors watching him murmured quietly among their close colleagues.
"It really does feel like the start of a new era."
"No kidding. Look at that presence."
These days, when people were asked to name the male actor who represented Korea, more and more of the younger generation named Ryu Yeon-woo ahead of Kang Ju-won or Han Tae-ha—names that had dominated the conversation for well over a decade. Of course, he had already built a considerable body of work for his age, but compared to those veterans he had by no means done an enormous number of projects. The weight he carried simply felt heavier because every single work he appeared in had become a mega-hit.
When Yeon-woo stepped onto the stage, the hall fell silent. He held the award for a long moment, studying it, then slowly surveyed the audience.
"First of all, thank you so much for giving me two awards of this magnitude."
He scanned the seats even more carefully. He could see the actors and directors he had worked with over the years, and off to one side on the second floor, Representative Kim Ju-seong and the rest of the company family. And seated as far from Kim Ju-seong as possible, on the opposite side of the hall, was Representative Byeon Hak-gyu of Plus10.
Yeon-woo looked in that direction and spoke.
"To Executive Director Yoon Mi-yeon of Saebyeol, Representative Jeong Hyeok, and Representative Kim Ju-seong, who has always quietly supported us—thank you."
Byeon Hak-gyu would almost certainly think Yeon-woo had merely glanced to the left; it would never cross his mind that those eyes had been fixed precisely on him. Or rather—Yeon-woo hadn't been looking at a small fry like Byeon Hak-gyu at all. He had been looking past him, at Baeksol.
"I love my family, and I also want to thank everyone at Woo's, who always support me."
Yeon-woo went on to name Jeong Cheol-min, seated at the table in front, then the actors under his agency, and even Jin Yu-han and Han So-hyun, who still belonged to other companies.
"Going forward, Saebyeol intends to keep making new attempts and taking on new challenges."
He paused for a beat, then delivered his final words.
"'The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world.' A famous line from Demian. And so I, too, will keep thrashing with everything I have, and with my meager strength, one day break open a world. Thank you for this precious award."
Because he was an actor who constantly tried new things—independent films, fantasy dramas, small-theater productions—no one dismissed his words as empty rhetoric. The audience focused on the image of Yeon-woo pioneering genres and forever reinventing his craft. But those same words were simultaneously a warning and a declaration of war aimed at Baeksol: a vow to hunt down, one by one, the cancerous growths rotting the nation from underground and bring them to judgment.
The only person who understood that meaning was Han Hae-un, watching the ceremony on television.
Of course, Yeon-woo had no intention of dealing with them through the same violent methods they used. If everyone answered an eye for an eye, the world would eventually be left with nothing but the blind. He would find every last member of Baeksol's leadership and put them on trial through fully legal channels.
The morning after the awards ceremony, while Yeon-woo and every actor under the agency were still collapsed from the all-night after-party, long lines had already formed on the streets. Pre-orders for the newly released smartphone had sold out in under twenty seconds, so customers hoping to buy one in person had been lining up since before dawn rather than simply morning.
"Ah, please, just any color…"
The man standing behind carefully asked the woman in front of him,
"Excuse me—if there's still stock left, which color are you planning to get?"
"Honestly, anything's fine as long as it's not Gold."
Jeong Cheol-min would have looked crestfallen if he had heard that, but the man behind her felt the same way.
"Right? You'd have to see it in person, but this Gold is a little too yellow. Unless you're buying it for your parents…"
"I showed it to my parents. They said they didn't want it."
"Ah…"
The idea that older people prefer outdated colors is pure prejudice. The older people get, the more they chase things that feel young and hip.
Waiting was boring anyway, and now that the conversation had started, the two of them kept chatting.
"Did you watch the awards last night?"
"Yeah, of course. That's why I'm in line for the Jet Black."
"I wouldn't mind the Ella color either."
"Ella's the pink gold, right?"
The woman nodded.
"But it's closer to a refined white, so I think guys could pull it off fine."
"Hmm… pink gold, huh."
He pulled up the colors on his phone again and fell into thought—even though there was no guarantee either of them would actually get to buy one.
From the front of the line, customers gradually filtered out, each emerging with a shopping bag, having successfully purchased a phone. The shorter the line grew, the higher their expectations climbed.
"Ah, please, any color is fine—wait, no, anything except Gold."
"Jet Black for me, please."
"Come on, Jet Black was probably gone ages ago."
At last their turn was right in front of them, and both the man and the woman stepped into the store.
"Welcome. What product are you looking for?"
"The new model—you've still got some, right?!"
"Yes, we do."
"What about colors? The colors?"
The employee looked at them with a faintly apologetic expression.
"Right now we have one Carmine Red left, and there's still a decent amount of Gold."
In an instant, the man and woman who had grown fairly friendly while chatting in line turned into enemies.
"Then I'll take the Carmine Red!"
"Hey, I was standing in front of you! You can't cut in line. And you said you were getting Jet Black."
"What? People go in four at a time anyway."
"That's not how it works. Choosing in the order you lined up is the universal rule!"
And just like that, the entire first-batch unlocked stock of the new smartphone sold out at stores nationwide.