Chapter 47
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 47
Despite saying they would just throw something together, it didn't take long for Eun-seong to whip up an oil-based pasta. He plated it beautifully in a large, thick bowl and grated Italian cheese over the top.
“Wow, how did you make it look so pretty? Where did you learn to do this?”
“I learned to survive. A combat skill of sorts, I suppose.”
Eun-seong set a fork down for her. Yeon-ju, who had been staring at the sophisticated and clean presentation, looked up from the plate.
“But why is there only one?”
“You eat. I'm fine.”
Sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, Eun-seong poured her a glass of lukewarm water. He stared quietly at the plate for a moment before standing up again.
“There should be some jalapeños. I’ll get them for you.”
“No, it’s fine. Really, I’m okay.”
Stopping him, Yeon-ju quickly picked up her fork. She took a bite of pasta, eyeing his face with skepticism.
Oh my god.
“Oh my god, how is this so delicious? This is insane.”
“I’m glad you like it. I tend to eat bland food, so I was worried it wouldn’t be seasoned enough.”
“It’s really, really, really delicious. You could seriously sell this.”
The rich aroma of the oil coated the noodles perfectly, creating an explosion of savory, clean flavor in her mouth. The combination of perfectly cooked garlic, finely crushed peperoncino, and black pepper was superb. With the occasional hint of basil and cheese, it lacked absolutely nothing.
“Are you really not going to eat?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Why? Let’s eat together. There’s plenty.”
“It’s insulting. Food doesn’t even taste good, but it still makes you gain weight.”
Yeon-ju, who had been dazedly twirling her fork, looked up. She glared at Eun-seong, who was merely picking at a slice of cheese, as she chewed her pasta.
How can he say this doesn’t taste good? How is that even possible?
If he weren’t right in front of me, I’d lick the plate clean.
“I’m managing my diet. When you’re on a diet, nothing tastes good anyway.”
“I’m on a diet too, you know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Where do you even have fat to lose?”
Gasp. Twirling her fork to lift the noodles, Yeon-ju subtly sucked in her stomach. She would never let Eun-seong—who was chewing on cheese with a bored expression as if it were a rubber band—catch even a glimpse of her slight belly.
I’m really, really going on a diet. Starting tomorrow.
“Want a glass of champagne?”
Eun-seong, who had been resting his chin on his hand while eating nothing but cheese, stood up. It seemed that eating cheese had naturally made him think of pairing it with champagne.
Feeling guilty for eating alone in front of someone on a strict diet, Yeon-ju wiped her oily lips with a napkin and nodded.
“Then please pick something delicious. Something with low alcohol content.”
“Hold on. I’ll find something suitable.”
Yeon-ju watched as Eun-seong hesitated, scanning the wine rack. As she looked up at his face, focused on selecting a bottle as if it were a matter of grave importance, her gaze grew distant.
Just looking at him turned the moment into a scene from a movie. It felt like watching a master actor in a single, perfect take, captured with the utmost passion by a dedicated camera crew. His gaze, his touch, even the long draw of his breath felt imbued with a director’s grand intention, making her afraid to miss a single detail.
He was a man whose life was a film. An incomparable, perfect, and brilliant art film, crafted with the painstaking efforts of countless people, leaving absolutely no room for error.
There was no denying it. Even now, Im Eun-seong was someone’s dream, a pioneer whose footsteps others yearned to follow, and the pride of Korea, writing new history with his very existence.
To put it another way, his life was already mapped out from beginning to end. An NG—a flawed take—was something that could not, and must not, ever happen.
“Ah. This one should be good.”
Having found a good bottle, Eun-seong smiled like a child as he held up the champagne. Because the smile he showed only to her was both precious and heartbreaking, Yeon-ju offered a small smile in return.
My appearance in his life is an NG.
“It has a low alcohol content, so it’s perfect. Let’s go with this.”
“Okay. I’ll look forward to it.”
She was like the dark green moss or lichen that grows uninvited on a tree trunk—a flawed take that had to be stripped away and wiped clean.
Even if she wanted to deny it, the ending was inevitable. In the end, she would be erased like a useless strip of film, and he would sail smoothly onward, as if he had never made a single mistake in his life.
* * *
“How did you get to know Director Jin Hae-young? You two seem close.”
“Ah, Director Jin.”
Yeon-ju stared at her champagne glass. The elegant, chalice-shaped flute caught the light beautifully from every angle.
“It’s been a while, but we first met as landlord and tenant.”
“Ah.”
“Back then, Director Jin lived in the same villa. It was under her parents’ name, so to be precise, she was the landlord’s daughter.”
A memory from seven years ago, now a story.
“Even though we paid a maintenance fee, my mom would clean the villa stairs every weekend. She said she couldn’t break the habit from when we lived in a detached house and that it felt weird if she didn’t.”
No one had asked her to, and no one expected it, but her mother always cleaned the stairs on weekend mornings. At the time, Yeon-ju had been utterly exhausted from raising a much younger Han-byeol and thought her mother was doing something completely useless, but she would still reluctantly tag along.
Lost in reminiscence, Yeon-ju’s eyes softened.
“It’s a long story, but we met while cleaning the stairs. Director Jin adored Han-byeol, so she would drop by our place from time to time. Then we went on trips together, and eventually, it felt awkward if we didn’t see each other every day.”
“She’s someone to be grateful for.”
“Yes. Very much so.”
Nodding in firm agreement, Yeon-ju took a sip of her champagne. As she gazed quietly at the beautifully colored liquid, his questions continued.
“Do you have any classmates you keep in touch with?”
“Well… no. That’s just how things turned out.”
Feeling that a detailed explanation would be difficult, Yeon-ju took another sip of champagne. Her heart pounded, worried he might ask why she had cut them off.
“I barely keep in touch with anyone either.”
“Yes. I can imagine.”
“At first, I just let people stay in touch if they wanted to, but at some point, the requests to borrow money started piling up.”
This time, Eun-seong drank his champagne. Yeon-ju slowly closed and opened her eyes.
“When you hear their stories, every single one is pitiful and urgent. So I lent them money whenever I could, over and over again…”
“I guess you never got it back.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even expect to. But after that, they naturally stopped contacting me.”
“……”
“Regardless of the money, losing the person still hurts.”
He spoke of being hurt unintentionally and how, after being betrayed—or what felt like betrayal—by people he thought he had good relationships with, he came to feel that isolation was better.
What he had learned while surviving in the brutal, cutthroat world of the top 0.01% of stars was this: do not trust people.
And abandon the idea that you can give your trust to anyone.
“Because of that, you become cynical. It’s inevitable. Honestly, that’s why I didn’t want your son to enter this industry.”
“……”
“There’s no guarantee Han-byeol won’t end up as cynical as me.”
There’s no guarantee he won’t end up like me.
Standing among people who did nothing but worship him, making one wonder what he could possibly lack, he spoke with such self-deprecation that Yeon-ju let out a quiet breath.
“Once this shoot is over, Han-byeol will go back to his daily life. He doesn’t seem to have any more ambition for this, and I want to be satisfied with a normal life, too.”
Because I want to be satisfied with a normal life.
This time, it was Eun-seong who let out a long breath. He knew all too well how precious it was to lead an ordinary life, where nothing was unusual and not a single thing was special. A life without extreme success or ruin—wasn’t that the hope and dream of so many?
It was also a dream he could no longer achieve. If you stay by my side, your life will become one where you can’t achieve that, either.
“You’ll be busy once the shoot is over, right?”
“Well, probably.”
“Are you leaving the country?”
“Most likely.”
Listening to his short answers, which lacked his usual elaboration, Yeon-ju nodded slowly. Though she had severed the natural bond between father and son, she was terrified of causing his downfall and found herself unable to say a thing.
She reminded herself once again that Han-byeol was not their child, but her child—a choice and a decision made by her alone.
“Being busy is a good thing. It means you’re loved that much.”
“But in exchange, I don’t have a life of my own. Well, I’ve gotten used to it, so it’s bearable.”
In a way, it was a relief that their time together had a predetermined end. It felt far easier to handle than a persistent, unpredictable connection.
Even without her forcing it, the finale would arrive. Naturally, and clearly.
“You call yourself cynical, but you’re still a good person.”
Eun-seong’s hand flinched as he drank his champagne.
“You’re so considerate of the staff, you look after the atmosphere on set, and you’re always willing to step up for the hard jobs.”
“I told you, I’m just trying to generate my own good rumors.”
“I know that’s not something you can do on a whim. I also know that if you don’t keep your edge, you can’t immerse yourself in a role. Maintaining your balance in a situation like that is an incredibly difficult thing to do.”
Most actors were sensitive before filming. While trying to focus on the other self they had created within, they would react sharply to even the smallest things.
To continue filming without such mood swings required immense effort.
“Suddenly, I feel full just from your praise.”
“……Ah, it’s hot. Why is it so hot?”
Flustered by his reaction, Yeon-ju fanned herself with her hand. Her already flushed face burned, and her long, loose hair felt stifling.
“I should tie my hair up… Ah!”
It happened just as she raised her arms to take the hair tie from her wrist. Her elbow nudged the awkwardly placed champagne glass, sending it crashing to the floor.
“Ah! Oh no!”
Startled, Yeon-ju hurriedly stood up. Eun-seong rose with her and held out a hand.
“Don’t move. Stay right there.”
“Is-isn’t this a really expensive glass? It broke, what do I do?”
“Just stay still. Wait, just wait.”
Worried she might move, Eun-seong repeated himself as he stepped closer. Seeing this, Yeon-ju made a horrified face and pushed him back.
“You shouldn’t come over here either! What if you get hurt?”
“You’re the one who needs to stay still. Huh? You’re pushing me? Did you just push me? Are we doing this now?”
“No, I’m telling you not to come over! I’ll clean it up, so don’t come over and just stay—”
Before she could finish, Eun-seong slipped his arms under hers and lifted her up. Setting her down on the kitchen island, he tilted his head slightly and brought his face close to hers.
“Stay still. That’s how you can help.”
“Ah, uh, yes… uh, yes, yes. Yes.”
At the sudden sensation of being lifted into the air, combined with the shock of his hands brushing her chest, her flushed face instantly turned pale.
Looking at Yeon-ju, who had suddenly become docile, Eun-seong raised an eyebrow.
“And you,” he said, giving her a scolding look before bending down to clean up the mess. “Don’t lose weight.”