Chapter 54
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 54
“Ah, fuck, why is it so jammed? Get in the bus lane.”
“It’s still early, sir. If we get in now…”
“Hey, asshole, just do it. Are you going to take responsibility if we’re late for the flight?”
Tae-gon, scheduled for a long-term overseas business trip, snapped irritably, the tension choking the car. The highway was at a complete standstill. It was too early for the bus lane to be open to regular traffic, but the employee behind the wheel read the room and quickly merged over.
Pleased that they were finally moving, Tae-gon turned his attention back to his tablet. He was flying out to organize Eun-seong’s US schedule and attend a film festival. After that, he had to manage schedules in the UK, and then China.
It was all for Eun-seong. The overseas workload alone was overwhelming; he never should have booked a domestic film on top of it all.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and he shut off the tablet. A sudden curiosity about the other actors in his agency prompted him to speak.
“Chief Hong. How much time is left on Yang Hee-ryeong’s contract?”
“About a year, sir.”
“A year? We invested so much in her, and she hasn’t landed a single decent role. What the hell has she been doing all this time?”
Tae-gon’s brow furrowed. He was deeply unsatisfied with the actress’s weak standing, especially with only a year left on her contract.
“We submitted her for an audition for Director Shin’s new movie. But it’s rated R, so Hee-ryeong seems to be hesitating.”
“In her position, what the fuck right does she have to be picky? We’ll barely recoup our investment even if she takes everything she can get. Tell her she has to do it, no matter what.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And get in touch with Department Head Park at Cheongdam-dong Milk. Tell him to set her up with a decent sponsor. There are plenty of rich, brainless suckers over there who are crazy for women.”
As Tae-gon spoke, Chief Hong glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Cheongdam-dong Milk was an unlicensed, high-society bar, and Department Head Park was its so-called manager.
Tae-gon caught the look, his brows knitting in annoyance. “What’s with the face? Explain it to her nicely. Give her an advance to get her in there. She must need the money, right?”
“Ah… Yes, sir.”
“Make sure we get ten times our investment back within the year. Am I making myself clear?”
Tae-gon cut himself off, clearly done with the topic. He was lost in thought for a moment before lightly kicking the back of the passenger seat. The other chief sitting there quickly turned around.
“Yes, sir.”
“You know that child actor on Eun-seong’s set? Han-byeol. Hire someone to look into him.”
“Hire someone, sir?”
“Chang-rok isn’t cooperating, so yes, hire someone. Are you just going to sit there and wait to be spoon-fed? Stop talking back and just do as I say.”
“Yes, sir.”
His face still twisted in a scowl, Tae-gon turned his gaze back to his tablet.
* * *
Like a Star
After her confession, Yeon-ju filled the time with Hae-young with more chatter than usual, her laughter ringing a little too loud.
Leaving the lamb skewer restaurant, she stood facing him for a moment. Should we go for a second round? Is there anything else you want to eat? If you’re tired, we can do it next time.
In response to Hae-young’s questions, Yeon-ju just waved a hand, suggesting they save it for another day. Since the timing was awkward, Hae-young decided to stop by his office and call for a driver, while Yeon-ju boarded a bus heading home.
Luckily finding a seat, Yeon-ju plugged in her earphones. She put on a trendy idol song, leaned her head against the window, and tapped her fingers lightly to the rhythm.
As the bus passed the massive outdoor billboard of Eun-seong she had seen earlier, she gently closed her eyes. Focusing on the thumping beat, she remembered Han-byeol once saying he liked this song. A faint, hairline smile brushed her lips.
After countless stops and the shuffling of passengers, she arrived at the stop near her house. Taking long strides, Yeon-ju stopped at a nearby convenience store and bought two cans of beer.
Slipping them into her bag, she started walking again, her pace quickening to match the fast beat of the K-pop song. On her way, she took a fork in the road that led toward the park.
It was past peak hours, and the park was quiet. A path lined with neatly planted pin oaks began at the entrance, and Yeon-ju walked briskly along the wooden deck.
The yellow streetlights cast a romantic glow on the autumn night, and soon the path opened into a wide, boundless space. A long row of empty benches stretched out before her, but Yeon-ju walked much further, only stopping when she reached one tucked away in a corner. It was a place no one would visit unless they made a conscious effort—a bench she sought out whenever she needed to clear her head.
She pulled out her earphones. When the loud, chaotic song—lyrics she couldn't decipher anyway—finally vanished, her ears felt numb in the sudden silence.
Sighing, she set her bag on the isolated bench, slumped down, and caught her breath as she took in the view. The deepening autumn had already reached its peak. A colorful display of baby chrysanthemums, Asian jasmine, asters, poinsettias, and emerald gold boasted their beauty.
Staring blankly at the flowers, she pulled out a beer. Crack— The familiar hiss of carbonation echoed as she pulled the tab, and Yeon-ju tilted her head back, gulping it down in one go.
She drank without stopping until her lungs burned for air. The can was freezing against her fingertips, a stark contrast to the fire raging in her chest. She gripped it tighter.
“Phew…”
Finally pulling her lips away, Yeon-ju let out a long breath. She slowly wiped the moisture from her lip with the back of her hand and gently closed her eyes.
She had tried so hard to get here, constantly suppressing the emotions that threatened to boil over. Fearing she might reveal a pathetic side of herself to Hae-young, she had laughed harder than ever. Fearing she might break down on the bus full of strangers, she had surrendered her mind to the loud music.
It’s okay here. No one’s around.
“I’m going crazy…”
With that one whispered phrase, the dam she had so carefully maintained seemed to snap. Clutching the half-empty beer can, hidden in the dark landscape where even the sunset had faded, she let out a ragged breath.
A heavy groan escaped her, the sound of someone who had witnessed an unspeakable tragedy. The sorrow choking her grew relentlessly, threatening to cut off the very breath she clung to.
Heat pooled in her eyes. No. No. Unable to fully open or close them, Yeon-ju fought with all her might against the moisture gathering on her lashes.
I decided not to cry. I promised myself.
“I’m going crazy, I’m going crazy…”
At some point, she had stopped wanting to show her tears. As a mother, she felt that if she cried every time she wanted to, she wouldn’t survive a single day. Sorrow never arrived in a predictable, painful form; it ambushed her when she was most vulnerable, rendering any preparation useless.
It was best to just forget how to cry. It was enough to bite her lip and endure. Believing she had to be stronger for her child, for the life she had chosen, she had lived that way.
But today?
How was she supposed to swallow this sorrow, this agony?
“Ah…”
A single tear fell. The warm drop spreading on the back of her hand was the signal. The tears she had held back for so long began to flow one after another, as if they had finally found an escape, and Yeon-ju squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth.
As the dark future loomed, time began to slip backward. A queue of memories rose to the surface—stories that no one would ever care to know, no matter how much she dwelled on them.
While you were shooting multi-million dollar commercials, my child rolled over for the first time.
While everyone chanted your name at grand parties, my child took his first steps.
“Ah…”
Her face began to crumble. Overwhelmed by the swelling, cold emotion, Yeon-ju curled her body inward.
When you were cast as the lead in a famous movie, my child called me “Mom” in his baby voice and babbled with delight over his very first taste of ice cream.
When you smiled brightly, surrounded by more bouquets than you could hold, I prepared my child’s birthday table and took Polaroids to mark each year.
When he entered kindergarten, when he pinned a carnation on my chest for the first time.
When he brought home the kkakdugi he made himself at kindergarten. When my child looked so dashing in his Taekwondo uniform.
When he was in a major car accident, when he had to delay starting elementary school by a year.
“Ah… ah…”
Moments that would seem trivial to anyone else, but for me, they were world-shattering.
Searching your name every morning became a habit, and I started talking to myself. Hello, yesterday Han-byeol ate kimchi for the first time.
Hello, today is Han-byeol’s picnic day. Hello, yesterday Han-byeol got a perm, and he looks so cute.
You have no idea how beautiful he is. It breaks my heart that I can’t show you.
“Ahhh… ah… sob…”
Finally, a raw, bitter sob ripped from her throat. The tears that had rotted inside her, unable to flow for so many years, poured down as devastatingly as a monsoon. They streamed so hot it felt as if they would boil and burn her eyes.
…When I met you again, I wanted to run away.
I was afraid, first of all, that I—who had forgotten romance, joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure while raising a child—would shatter the fragile, delicate image you held of me in your memories.
Next, I was afraid of how small I would look, already so worn down by life, next to you, who continued to soar to new heights.
But it’s so strange—
Standing before you, I became my twenty-three-year-old self again. Not a mother with a hardened, calloused heart, but a young woman of twenty-three, with a heart still soft and unmarred.
The heart I thought was dead began to beat. A flush spread across my cheeks.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t—it felt like I had met the self I had forgotten, like I had found myself again—
Just one more day, just one more day… and so, I grew greedy.
“Ugh… sob… hic…”
There was also a sense of entitlement, a feeling that I had contributed to your dizzying success. There was a lingering resentment that my blood, sweat, and tears were mixed into the steps of the endless staircase you climbed.
I rationalized that because I had let you go with all my heart, this brief time together was justified.
What a wicked, cruel selfishness that was.
“Ahhh… ah… sob…”
The tears flowed too heavily to be wiped away, so she just let them fall.
The future was just as terrifying, and she couldn’t predict a single inch of her life, but tomorrow’s her would be no different from today’s. She would still linger by his side.
She might end up leaving him, leaving them both, covered in wounds and utterly ruined, but right now, she couldn’t stop.
Her shoulders shaking, she cried out loud for a long time.
Because I, too, wanted to be loved, and I wanted to love.