Friend's Confession
"Well then, thanks for today."
Lee Eun-a lifted the plastic bag with a hollow laugh. The water kept dripping even after blow-drying, so it must have soaked right through. She'd even borrowed an envelope and pants from Moo-young.
"Take care. Reporter."
"Oh right. I'll send the photos to the agency. Let me know which ones you want."
"Got it! Thank you."
Moo-young leaned against the doorframe and waved goodbye. She seemed genuinely sorry and grateful. Reporters rarely let subjects pick their own photos from articles. That's why they were called humiliation machines. It was something that almost never happened.
Screeech! The reporter waved as she stepped out the front door, and Moo-young kept smiling until it clicked shut.
The moment she was gone, Go Kyung-min grabbed his arm.
"You idiot! Moo-young! Why'd you spill all that? Huh? If the wrong article drops, you're done for. I can't handle that."
His face was crumpled in despair, like it was all over.
Moo-young gently pried off his arm and patted it, warm and soothing like a mom comforting a child.
"It's fine. The laptop's totally smashed. They can't use anything I said. The reporter even said herself she couldn't write without records. I answered everything honestly, so she's not pissed. Two birds with one stone, right?"
"Dude, doesn't the foam rinse off? I used a ton of shampoo."
"Eh, felt pretty clean. Definitely tastes like the end."
He'd confirmed it by pressing the power button while it was still wet. Jun-ho nodded in satisfaction.
But one issue left.
"What about the recorder?"
The laptop was one thing, but couldn't they just transcribe from the recorder?
Moo-young swept up the surrounding trash as he replied.
"I checked—it wasn't even recording."
"What? For real?"
Yeah. Total lie. But sorry, couldn't exactly say the ghost helped.
Go Kyung-min's eyes, nose, and mouth all flew open in shock.
"Th-that's true?"
"Sorry I couldn't warn you ahead. I figured butter her up first and deal with the laptop somehow, but luck was on our side."
Luck was on our side. What could he argue with that?
Go Kyung-min wiped cold sweat and pleaded.
"Everything's good, but it feels like my lifespan's shrinking. Next time, let's sync up properly first? Yeah?"
"Sure. Got it."
Still, if no article comes out, no photo upload either. Kinda disappointing. Maybe post on SNS personally? Nah. Dealing with the landlord Bu-yong came first.
Hmm. Yeah. Perfect.
In terms of priorities, that was top. No article? No big loss.
Jun-ho stood blankly, staring at the empty coffee cup.
"But hey."
"Yeah?"
"I saw earlier—the cup tipped over by itself."
Thud! Go Kyung-min froze in shock. It was broad daylight—what the hell did that mean?
"Guess this place really has a ghost."
Jun-ho muttered with exaggerated stern seriousness. Right then, the ghost plopped her chin lightly on his shoulder, like talking about me?
"Ghosts stick to people who talk about them. So just play dumb."
"Whoa! Creepy! Fuck! Sudden chill!"
Jun-ho shadowboxed wildly, shaking himself off. The ghost grinned and trailed after him playfully.
……Better he doesn't know.
Time to make a deal then?
"Jun-ho."
"Yeah?"
"How much incentive for selling this place?"
"Dunno. Holding it means calculating management fees, property taxes, other taxes, opportunity costs for years ahead."
"So shoot for it."
"……Like 100 million won?"
"Whoa."
Moo-young's jaw dropped. In his ten-plus years of life, he'd never even dreamed of nine-figure money. Totally unreal.
"But ghost removal? Could push 200 million. This spot's a money pit if you keep it."
Jun-ho's mutter lit up Moo-young's eyes. 200 million won. That'd let him act worry-free forever! Not a fortune, but priceless to him now.
Moo-young thrust up a thumbs-up.
"Me? Why?"
Jun-ho mimicked it cluelessly. But it wasn't for him. It was for the ghost beaming right on his back.
"Nice. You've got a great friend."
"Whoa, kid's acting all mushy."
Jun-ho twisted playfully. Ignoring him, Moo-young texted Ha Da-kyeong for Bu-yong's number.
Back home instead of the office, Lee Eun-a showered and sat at her desk. Twists and turns aside, she'd scored real juicy material.
Rookie thing? Kinda reckless, poor guy.
Other celebs watched their words even off-record. Reporters pounced on any slip. But spilling everything in an official interview?
Grateful for the help, but article's another matter.
She checked her phone message.
The entertainment world was rumor-sensitive. Tongues had to stay sharp, party or bystander.
Her impression of Ha Moo-young: endlessly careless guy. Nothing more, nothing less.
Lee Eun-a set up her personal laptop and hit play on the recorder.
"Huh? What's this?"
No way, from the spill earlier? She pressed her ear to the speaker, anxious.
"Phew. Good, it's there."
She sighed in relief—then froze solid.
A faint woman's mutter overlaid the dim voices of Ha Moo-young and herself. Too shocked, she toppled backward in her chair.
Thud!
"Kyaaah—!"
The eerie voice filled her room. Before realizing the recording was trashed, terror sent her bolting out the door.
Bang!
The ghost's resentful curse echoed through the empty house until the audio file ended.
* * *
Alley near Daehangno. Sweat-drenched Moo-young scanned around. Phone still silent. Ha Da-kyeong must be busy—no reply.
Needed Bu-yong's contact first to do anything.
Oh well.
Break time meant plenty of hours. Moo-young scouted for Hado Theater.
Map wrong? Keep looping.
"Ugh, wasn't I here earlier?"
Sun setting, lost. How do audiences even find it? Ditch and head to officetel?
Thud thud.
Familiar figure passed, script in hand. Hat on, but Moo-young knew instantly.
"Yu-chan!"
Whoosh! Ki Yu-chan. Overjoyed and shocked, Moo-young dashed and hugged him tight.
Yu-chan lurched forward from the surprise attack.
"Wh-what."
"What about you! Why're you here? More like, why no contact? On break?"
Unlike chattering Moo-young, Yu-chan was quiet. Faint smile, but not pure joy.
"Yeah, break. Our exams were performances—ended early."
"Why no replies? Bora too!"
"Oh. Bora…… Hasn't been at school awhile."
"Drama shoot? Yeah, she's slammed. I did a bit part days ago. Man, intense!"
Moo-young paused mid-rant. Yu-chan looked uneasy.
"What's up? Yu-chan. Something wrong?"
"Nah. Saw the article. Tough break."
He gave a bitter smile, patting Moo-young's shoulder. Off. Not the confident, energetic Yu-chan.
Moo-young stared, so Yu-chan changed tack.
"But what brings you here?"
"Oh. Looking for Hado Theater—lost."
"Hado? Why?"
"You know it?"
Yu-chan startled slightly, lifting his script. Hamlet by Shakespeare, stamped 'Hado Theater' below.
"Doing it here this summer."
What? Perfect home—why?
Moo-young followed slow-walking Yu-chan. Navigated alleys expertly. Old theater sign ahead.
"Hado troupe's famous—you didn't know?"
"Nope. First time."
"Figures. What would you know."
Thorny words. Moo-young just smiled; Yu-chan apologized first.
"Sorry. Not like that."
"Nah. True enough."
Down worn stairs, musty yet cozy. Theater dark—closed day, empty seats.
"Sit."
Worn low stage. Only intact chair in venue.
Moo-young perched, looking around. Famous? Got it. First such relic.
"Why're you here?"
"……Friend suggested."
"Hm. Yeah?"
"You crashing here? Super busy? Explains no replies. Text Bora back though—she's worried."
Yu-chan cracked a canned drink, sipped, silent.
Long quiet, then heavy confession.
"This is my last shot."
"Huh? What?"
"Challenge through summer. If no good, quit acting."
Dust piled on like weight. Moo-young blinked, confirming.
"Quit?"
"Literal. Drop out, find another path."
"Why? You busted ass for that uni. Acting long-term."
Yu-chan sneered coldly, pityingly—as if Moo-young couldn't get it.
"Long time, yeah. But length ain't everything. Arts need talent. Some cling years for one bit part; others snag films and dramas in under a year……."
Moo-young got who was who.
"Sorry for vague words. Not your fault, but it's tough. Human—bad thoughts creep. That's why no contact. Couldn't celebrate purely."
Friend's confession hit Moo-young like a hammer to the head. Never noticed Yu-chan felt this way…….
"Sorry. Didn't wanna show this pathetic side."
Bora too. Different reasons, but she alone passed same audition. Amid their stardom, Yu-chan suffocated—stuck watching from shadows.
"Look around then go. Film well. Stay strong."
Yu-chan smiled bitterly, waving.
Moo-young grabbed his arm, looking up.
"Don't just talk—hear me out too."