Chapter 66
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 66
“Why? Did CEO Min tell you to report on me?”
“H-Hyung-nim!”
Startled by Eun-seong’s sudden appearance, Dong-hwan hurriedly shoved his phone into his pocket. Eun-seong casually pulled a nearby chair over and sat down, his gaze unhurried.
Dong-hwan had slipped into a different practice room after confirming Eun-seong was in his private one, but he hadn't realized Eun-seong had been silently eavesdropping on his call the entire time.
“N-No, Hyung-nim. It’s not what you think.”
“What do you mean, ‘it’s not’? I heard everything.”
His mind went completely blank. Dong-hwan couldn’t even muster an excuse as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. Resting his clasped hands on his knees, Eun-seong looked up at him.
“How much did you tell him?”
“T-Tell him what, Hyung-nim? It’s really not like that.”
“You’d better answer carefully. I can understand the circumstances that would force someone as powerless as you to follow CEO Min’s orders. But if you lie even after getting caught like this, I can’t let it slide.”
“Ah… Hyung-nim…”
Dong-hwan wavered, paralyzed by agonizing indecision. He looked utterly helpless. Even though he’d been caught red-handed, the words wouldn’t come. He knew just how powerful Min Tae-gon was in this industry.
For Dong-hwan, who dreamed of becoming a capable manager and one day establishing his own agency, Tae-gon was an absolute authority. Disobeying him was simply out of the question.
If he left the company because he couldn’t stomach the unreasonable demands, he would have to leave the entertainment industry entirely and find a completely different career. Tae-gon would thoroughly crush anyone who crossed him, making sure they could never join another agency. Dong-hwan had seen more than a few colleagues give up on their dreams that way.
Staring into Eun-seong’s unblinking eyes, Dong-hwan swallowed hard. If he kept his mouth shut to the very end, his relationship with Eun-seong would be over.
But even if he fell out with Eun-seong, he could still work as a manager. As long as Tae-gon didn’t abandon him, he would survive somehow. In other words, Eun-seong wouldn't be able to protect him in the long run.
It was far better to follow Tae-gon, who, despite his cruelty, could help him achieve his dreams. No matter how dirty and cheap it felt, you had to serve the person who held your future in their hands.
Yes. Keep quiet. I have to keep quiet. After a moment of internal agony, Dong-hwan sealed his lips.
Watching him, Eun-seong let out a dry chuckle.
“Looks like you’ve done the math. So this is your answer.”
“Hyung-nim…”
Keep quiet. I have to keep quiet.
As Dong-hwan called out in a pleading voice, Eun-seong stood up. There was no longer any reason to wait.
“You’ve worked hard. Pack your things.”
“Hyung-nim, Hyung-nim! Hyung-nim, it’s not like that!”
As Eun-seong turned away without another word, Dong-hwan snapped out of his stupor and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He then fell to his knees and began to beg desperately.
“I-I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll talk, Hyung-nim.”
“Too late. Don’t waste your breath. Go your own way.”
“Hyung-nim, please. You know my situation… If I get on CEO Min’s bad side, I’m finished. You know that, Hyung-nim…”
Suddenly overwhelmed by the misery of his own plight, Dong-hwan rubbed at his eyes. But when Eun-seong’s cold gaze pierced through him, utterly indifferent to his sad story, his tears instantly dried up.
“Write your apology in a diary. Get up and pack your things.”
“Hyung-nim, Hyung-nim, Hyung-nim!”
As Eun-seong started walking again, Dong-hwan grabbed his pant leg. Ugh, I can’t do this. I can’t take this anymore!
“I’ll tell you everything. I really will. I swear I’ll tell you everything! Please give me one more chance!”
Stopping in his tracks, Eun-seong looked down at Dong-hwan. He frowned at the man, who was on the verge of tears with the most pitiful expression in the world.
“Who do you think you are, daring to play both sides between me and CEO Min?”
“Hyung-ni-im… Hyung-ni-im…”
Glaring at Dong-hwan, who was now sobbing and rubbing his face against his knee, Eun-seong let out a short sigh. Shaking his leg to brush him off like a piece of dust, Eun-seong sat back down in the chair.
He crossed his legs and lifted his chin.
“Brief me.”
“Then… are you forgiving me?”
“That depends on how you behave from now on.”
“Yes…”
As Dong-hwan pushed himself up from his knees, Eun-seong added, “I’ll hold this against you for the rest of your life. Be prepared for that.”
“Yes…”
Dong-hwan sat down in the chair Eun-seong had gestured to.
* * *
Eun-seong’s absence had stretched on for a week. Busy helping another actor with a fitting on set, Yeon-ju took advantage of a brief break to check her phone.
Out of habit, she opened her call history with Eun-seong. Staring at the time of their last call a week ago, she let out a low sigh. Then, she tapped the screen to draft a message.
[Is everything okay?]
She wrote it, then deleted it.
[The weather is getting cold. Be careful not to catch a cold.]
She deleted it again.
After repeatedly writing and deleting messages she couldn’t bring herself to send, Yeon-ju pulled out the invitation she had kept in her bag. It was a birthday party invitation Han-byeol had made himself, asking her to deliver it to Eun-seong.
She had nearly fainted when Han-byeol told her he had invited Eun-seong to their house. When she flatly refused, saying it was absolutely out of the question, Han-byeol wouldn’t back down, insisting they had already made a promise.
“What on earth am I supposed to do about this…”
She couldn’t bring herself to explain when her son asked, “It’s my birthday, so why can’t I invite the person I want to invite?” Besides, Eun-seong had apparently promised to come, so what right did she have to step in and cancel it?
She had postponed giving an answer, saying they should think about it, but that morning, Han-byeol had handed her the invitation to give to Eun-seong. She had accepted it, but she lacked the confidence to actually deliver it, which only made her sigh again.
She couldn’t even get in touch with him. And she felt she knew all too well what his absence meant.
Letting out a heavy, troubled sigh, Yeon-ju looked up. The schedule on set remained as routine as ever, yet the tasks she used to handle like clockwork now felt strangely unfamiliar.
Just because that one person was gone. That was the only thing that had changed, yet everything had become so foreign.
“Ah…”
Just then, her phone buzzed. A soft groan escaped Yeon-ju’s lips as she looked down at the screen.
Her gaze froze, and she stared at the display for a long moment.
[What are you doing after work?]
Ah, I need to reply, I have to reply…
Realizing she needed to answer quickly, Yeon-ju’s fingers flew across the screen. The moment she saw his message, her heart had begun to race wildly.
[Nothing much.]
Biting her lip had become a habit. As she chewed on it, unable to overcome her nervousness, his reply arrived a moment later.
Yeon-ju sprang to her feet. She could no longer handle her pounding heart.
[Let’s meet.]
It was a message from him.
* * *
She had no idea how the rest of the day passed. The moment the lights on set went out, Yeon-ju finished packing up faster than ever and was the first one to leave.
It was the first time she had ever rushed out of work like this. Boarding a taxi she had called in advance, she arrived in Sinsadong, a place she had visited once before.
Recalling his mention of using the entire building for himself, she cautiously stepped through the entrance. He wasn't on the third floor, which he had described as a lounge; today, he was on the first.
Only after confirming the outer door had closed did Yeon-ju ring the bell. Her fingertips trembled with tension. Though only a few seconds passed, it felt like an eternity before the door finally opened.
“You’re here?”
“Oh?”
Startled to see Dong-hwan opening the door, Yeon-ju took a step back. In contrast, Dong-hwan gestured for her to come in, his expression calm.
“Hyung-nim is inside. Please, come on in.”
“Ah… well… ah…”
“It’s fine. Come in.”
What on earth was going on? Yeon-ju couldn’t hide her bewilderment as Dong-hwan casually ushered her inside. Wondering if this was really okay, she hesitated before finally stepping through the door.
Various paintings were displayed across the spacious room. Recalling his brief mention of using the first floor as an art studio, Yeon-ju looked around.
At the very back of the room, Eun-seong came into view. He was painting.
“Hyung-nim! Yeon-ju is here!”
With that, Dong-hwan nodded toward Eun-seong, gesturing for Yeon-ju to go over, and then waved.
“Hyung-nim! I’ll be taking off now! Call me!”
Dong-hwan quickly vanished. Unable to make sense of the situation, Yeon-ju stood frozen, clutching the strap of her bag.
Unfinished canvases and various art supplies were scattered across the floor. Sculptures were placed here and there, and paintings with bold, extraordinary brushstrokes caught her eye.
Sitting with his back to the window, Eun-seong focused solely on his work. His torso was completely hidden behind the canvas, leaving only the crown of his head visible. Yeon-ju took a few steps forward.
“I’m here.”
“I know.”
His brief, one-word reply sounded indifferent. She wanted to walk over and ask what he was painting, but for some reason, her feet wouldn’t move.
How long did she stand there waiting? Finally, Eun-seong looked up, his gaze shifting past the canvas until their eyes met.
“It’s been a while.”
“Ah, yes. Have you been well?”
“No.”
It was hard to find anything else to say. Yeon-ju looked at the paintings hanging on the wall with somewhat exaggerated interest and asked, “Did you paint all of these?”
“They’re just doodles. I hung them up because I had nowhere else to put them.”
Though he dismissed them as mere doodles, the works held a certain depth. Realizing a side of him she hadn’t known—that he liked to paint—Yeon-ju admired them for a moment. However, with her mind in disarray, the art didn’t fully register. After a brief silence, she spoke again.
“When do you start filming again?”
No answer came. Yeon-ju stole a glance at Eun-seong and let out a short, sharp breath. Perhaps because it had been a week, he felt as distant and unfamiliar as the time that had passed between them.
“Oh, right.”
Yeon-ju opened her bag and pulled out the invitation. As Eun-seong glanced at her, she added, “This is an invitation from Han-byeol. He insisted I deliver it to you.”
“…”
“I’ll leave it here. Um, I know you’re busy, so… it’s fine if you can’t make it. I’ll explain it to Han-byeol so he understands.”
Yeon-ju placed the invitation on a nearby table. The fragmented, lingering silence was suffocating.
“I didn’t expect Dong-hwan to be here.”
“So, were you surprised?”
“A little. I wondered if it was okay for him to know everything like this.”
“Right. People tend to get surprised when they encounter the unexpected.”
Yeon-ju, who had been staring blankly at the paintings, slowly turned her head. Eun-seong, who had been quietly staring at the canvas on the easel, stood up.
A moment later, he turned the easel toward her. Yeon-ju’s lips parted slightly.
“But you shouldn’t be that surprised. Imagine how shocked I was.”
“…”
“To find out Han-byeol is my son.”
The child in the painting, born from the tips of his fingers, was Han-byeol.