Chapter 8
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 8
After a quick beer with Hae-young, Yeon-ju returned home and went to her room.
She washed up and was applying lotion when her gaze drifted to the script for Black Flame resting on her vanity. Flipping through it, she saw the plot summary: an agent, deployed on a mysterious mission, barely escapes death and returns home to find his son.
Her eyes lingered on the words, "to find his son."
She stared at the phrase for a long moment before squeezing her eyes shut. Even though the child in the script was eight, the story felt so much like her own with Han-byeol that her heart ached.
No one knew Eun-seong was the boy’s father. Not even Han-byeol’s grandmother knew. Yeon-ju had sworn to the heavens, time and time again, that she would take this secret to her grave.
She had wanted to live as if she had vanished from the face of the earth. More than anything, she had prayed that no news of her would ever reach him. Yet here she was, walking right back into his life of her own accord.
“Mom, what are you doing? Aren’t you watching the drama?”
As she stood there, lost in thought, her son, Han-byeol, wandered into the room. Yeon-ju quickly closed the script and forced a smile.
“Is it that time already?”
“Today’s the final episode! You’re not gonna ditch me, are you? That’s a total betrayal.”
“Han-byeol, how did you get to be such a drama fanatic?”
“What do you mean, ‘how’? Try living with Grandma as long as I have. Anyone would end up loving them.”
“Alright, alright. Thanks for the reminder.”
As she stood, Han-byeol’s eyes fell on the script. With a curious expression, he climbed onto the bed and opened it.
“Mom, what’s this?”
“Oh, that? It’s a movie script. The one they’ll be using on the set where I’m going to work.”
“Wow, a script?”
Han-byeol’s eyes sparkled as if he’d discovered a great treasure. Yeon-ju squeezed her eyes shut again, feeling as if her son’s gaze was burning straight through the cover to the three large characters spelling out “Im Eun-seong.”
Her heart pounded, but not from excitement.
“Mom, so people act using this? They say what’s written here?”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re the one who dresses the people in it?”
“Well, yes. I make sure the actors are dressed properly for their roles.”
“Wow, that’s so cool.”
Yeon-ju forced down a wave of sorrow at her son’s innocent praise. Fascinated by the first script he had ever seen, Han-byeol flipped through a few pages before looking up.
Gazing at her son’s face, Yeon-ju let out a long, quiet sigh. Han-byeol was ten years old this year, but he was only in the second grade.
He had been in a major accident when he was younger, which had delayed his enrollment in elementary school by a year. He should have been in the third grade by now, but the accident had kept him back.
Only his teachers knew; his classmates were completely unaware. Since he was small for his age, he didn’t stand out. The boy believed he was nine, just like his friends, and no adult had ever corrected him.
“Mom, can’t I go watch you work?”
“Huh? Oh, no, sweetie, you can’t. It’s a workplace, so that’s not allowed. They don’t just let anyone in.”
“Really? I really want to see, though. Acting looks so cool.”
Han-byeol looked deeply disappointed. Yeon-ju shook her head vigorously, imagining the disaster that would cause. While visiting a set wouldn’t normally be a problem, this was the one place her son could never go.
Because he was there.
“The drama’s starting! Aren’t you two coming out?”
“Yes! We’re coming!”
At her mother’s call, Yeon-ju took her son’s hand and led him into the living room. She made a silent vow to avoid talking about the film shoot in front of Han-byeol as much as possible.
* * *
First Day of Filming
A few days later, the first day of filming began. As Eun-seong stepped out of a sleek, black van, several staff members rushed to greet him.
Having recently cut his body fat to a lean 7%, Eun-seong’s physique was so defined it practically begged to be touched.
“Actor Im Eun-seong has arrived!” a staff member shouted.
Applause erupted across the bustling set. As Eun-seong bowed and greeted people, a truck pulled up right behind his van.
His manager, Dong-hwan, moved quickly, beginning to unload boxes.
“Our Actor Im Eun-seong has prepared Hanwoo sets and Gongjindan for all the executives and staff! We look forward to working with you!”
At Dong-hwan’s announcement, an even louder round of applause broke out. The staff members, receiving their boxes one by one, widened their eyes at the sheer scale of the gifts.
The Hanwoo beef, sourced directly from Hoengseong, was a premium 1++ assorted set, its exquisite marbling a mesmerizing sight. The Gongjindan was a one-month supply generously packed with deer antler—a luxury supplement worth nearly two million won.
On top of that, a pure gold card, personalized with each person’s name, weighed a full don (3.75 grams). The staff cheered, and the director beamed, pleased by the soaring morale on set.
“Alright, Go Yeon-ju. Sign here and take yours.”
Yeon-ju accepted the box designated for her. She stared blankly as staff members eagerly tore open their gifts all around her, her gaze drifting toward Eun-seong.
As if he had been waiting, their eyes met. Startled, Yeon-ju gave a hasty, awkward bow and quickly turned away.
Surrounded by people, Eun-seong watched her blatant avoidance with an indifferent expression before giving a slow blink. Then, he put on the professional, crowd-pleasing smile that everyone loved.
He knew all too well that the lead actor set the tone for the entire production.
* * *
“Hello, Eun-seong.”
Eun-seong turned at the sound of the voice. It was the mother of the film’s child actor, approaching with her son in tow. She was also acting as his manager, and her eagerness to curry favor was obvious.
“Oh, thank you so much for the gifts. You were so thoughtful, I don’t even know how to thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. I figured a child wouldn’t have much use for Gongjindan.”
“Exactly! It’s not easy to be so considerate. Thank you so, so much. Our Woo-min absolutely loves his gift, too.”
He had prepared a separate, customized gift of a jacket and a hat for the child actor, but it seemed to have captured the mother’s heart far more than the child’s.
Eun-seong glanced down at the small boy. Seeing this, the mother tapped her son’s shoulder.
“Woo-min, say hello. You know who this is, right? It’s Actor Im Eun-seong. Go on, greet him.”
“Hello. I’m Yang Woo-min.”
The boy, greeting him only because his mother insisted, seemed rather indifferent. Eun-seong, who remembered him from the casting meeting, gave a slight wave.
Was he eight? Or nine?
“Hey there. Good to see you again.”
“Woo-min, he’s greeting you. You should say, ‘Thank you for the gift, Uncle.’ Right?”
Frustrated by her son’s brief response, the mother kept prodding him. The boy, perhaps intimidated by the unfamiliar surroundings, shrank back slightly before bowing his head.
“Thank you for the gift.”
“Sure. Do you like it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really know what it is.”
At the child’s blunt honesty, the mother’s face flushed. Flustered, she quickly tried to smooth things over.
“Oh, he’s just shy. He talks and laughs so much when he’s with me. I don’t know why he’s being like this today.”
“Kids are all like that. As long as he does well during filming, that’s all that matters.”
Eun-seong reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. He felt a brief pang of pity for the child, who was clearly here against his will, driven solely by his mother’s ambition. He quickly brushed the thought aside.
“You said this is your first shoot, right?”
“Yes. It’s my first time.”
Pretty lucky for a first-timer, Eun-seong thought, masking it with a pleasant smile.
It was clear that being an actor was the mother’s dream, not the child’s. She was painting a hopeful future she intended to achieve through her son.
Well, whatever their story was, it didn’t matter to him. The boy had beaten out 800 other contenders for the role. As long as he didn’t disrupt filming, it made no difference whose dream it was.
Fitting for a child selected with such care, the young actor had remarkably distinct and handsome features for his age. Eun-seong himself had been astonished when they first met, wondering where on earth they had found a child who looked so much like him.
“Let’s do a good job together.”
“Yes. Goodbye.”
The child quickly ended the conversation, taking it as his cue to leave. His mother anxiously checked Eun-seong’s reaction one more time. When Eun-seong simply laughed it off, she grabbed her son’s hand and walked away.
Filming with Im Eun-seong was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and she knew it. She burned with a fierce determination to make her son adapt, no matter what it took.
It was a common sight. He had seen countless children brought to sets, fueled by nothing more than their parents’ inflated dreams.
“You won’t last long, either,” Eun-seong muttered, watching the boy’s retreating back.
Before long, the child would likely vanish from the industry. He didn’t have the look of someone who would build a long-term career. Even if his handsome face landed him a few more roles, his weak resolve would soon dry up the offers.
This industry didn’t go easy on anyone just because they were a child. The acting profession was harsh and ruthless to everyone, regardless of age or gender.
It was a world where survival was a struggle even for those who fought with everything they had. Eun-seong knew all too well that without personal drive, it was an utter waste of time.
A fact the child’s mother was clearly oblivious to.
* * *
Carrying her box, Yeon-ju followed a few other staff members. When she gathered with her team and opened it, the first thing she saw was the pure gold card.
Gasps escaped from those around her.
“Oh my god, Im Eun-seong spends on a whole different level. What is all this?”
“I know, right? I’ve been in this industry for five years, and I’ve never received anything like this.”
“I’ve been doing this for ten years, and it’s a first for me too. If you add all this up, it must be hundreds of millions of won, right?”
“I wonder if a few hundred million won even feels like money to someone like him.”
The staff’s chatter sounded distant. Staring down at the gifts, Yeon-ju unconsciously picked up the gold card.
[To Go Yeon-ju. Thank you for becoming a part of our family. Sincerely, Im Eun-seong.]
“The messages are all different! Wow, his character is the real deal.”
“You think his agency wrote them? Or did he really write them himself?”
“I’m not overthinking it. Who cares who wrote it? I’m posting a proof shot on social media right now.”
“There’s going to be a flood of articles praising him again. What are the other actors going to do? They’ll be totally overshadowed.”
Thank you for becoming a part of our family.
Yeon-ju stared blankly at the short message. There was no way he had written it with any hidden meaning; as the others said, it was probably just a phrase chosen by an agency employee. Still, the word “family” struck a painful chord within her.
Fearing she would get lost in her thoughts, Yeon-ju quickly put the card away. Hearing that Eun-seong had gone to makeup, the costume team finished their preparations and began to move.
“What the…”
It was then. Walking at the very back of the group, Yeon-ju froze at the sound of a voice.
“Well, well. What is this? What are you doing here?”
It was Tae-gon, the CEO of the agency who had forced them to break up all those years ago.