Can a Person Really Change Like This?
Yoon Jay pulled clothes from the closet and laid them out on the bed.
The older twin in String of Memory was an elite inspector—top of his class at the police academy, decorated for cracking case after case. A cold, driven cop who did sharp, methodical profiling behind a desk yet never shied away from working the field himself.
"Hyung."
"Hmm?"
Yoon Jay looked at Jung Seung-woo through the mirror.
Seung-woo wore a doubtful expression. After a few months of living under the same roof, he'd figured out right away that this otherwise perfect man was bizarrely hopeless when it came to fashion.
Jay only ever wore what his younger brothers or the agency stylists picked out for him—apparently he'd once put on the same outfit as one of them, head to toe, and gotten told he looked like a mannequin.
"You're not seriously planning to go outside in that—"
"Oh—no, no."
The loud floral shirt was a costume, meant for the younger brother's role in String of Memory.
The younger twin, perpetually overshadowed by his brilliant older brother, had gone off the rails early. He ran away from home as a teenager and fell into gang life—but perhaps because he carried a genius's blood, he'd clawed his way up into a proper corporate-style crime boss running a legitimate front business.
"For the role."
"Oh right, you've got your meeting today, huh?"
Yoon Jay nodded. Word had spread quickly through the industry that he now traveled with a personal bodyguard.
There had been some sniping—typical top-actor syndrome, so paranoid—but surprisingly, no one pressed the point hard. Not after the stories came out.
The truth was that Yoon Jay had caught Kwon Min-jae's stalker on the Permafrost set, and the story had only surfaced weeks after the fact. Plenty of people had been present that day, and keeping that many mouths in line was no small feat.
So the fact that he traveled with a bodyguard was easy enough to wave off—huh, I guess he's got his own stalker troubles—and leave it at that.
When he picked up his phone to check the time, his messenger was once again buried under unread messages. Actors on the same project becoming friendly wasn't anything unusual; some casts even met up regularly or went on overnight retreats, and Jay's casts had been no different.
Every group chat from every project he'd worked on stayed lively. Even the Along Along chat, years old now, was still going strong.
He tapped into the one with the longest unread backlog: the cast chat for Intermission.
The film's success was welcome, but the chats were full of people saying the pressure of their next projects was no joke. Intermission had closed its theatrical run at 11.27 million admissions. It had been popular enough that media outlets parodied its lines and turned them into running jokes.
To mark crossing the ten-million mark, the four leads and supporting actors had worked through a string of extra appearances—like a band playing an encore, they took the stage as Agitato and popped up on variety shows.
Even now, Agitato's title track from the film's soundtrack still drifted out of shops and street corners, and people were already clamoring for a second album. The popularity would probably last until some other blockbuster came along to steal the spotlight.
And they're probably all watching me for the same reason.
Wondering whether he could shed Yoo Tae-hyuk's image and carry the new role. He had to play two twins, no less—polar opposites of each other. Drama shoots ran on brutal schedules, so he'd likely be performing both characters almost simultaneously.
I'll need to layer the work more carefully this time.
The self still trapped in PTSD. The present self wrapped in the facade of a relatively unscathed past. And the character of the script. Three selves had collided into his current state of confusion—and now there were two roles on top of it, brother and brother. Even for Yoon Jay, this was a formidable challenge.
But I have to try.
That was exactly why he'd hired Jung Seung-woo and Choi Tae-yang—and now that he couldn't run anymore, there was nothing to do but face it.
"Why do you ask about Yoon Jay?"
"I'm meeting with him this time."
"Oh my, seriously?"
Screenwriter Kang Ye-jin, returning to work after a long break with String of Memory, had thrown the question out to the writers she was close with.
"Yoon Jay for your comeback? You lucky dog."
"Nothing's confirmed yet."
"Wait till you meet him. You'll change your tune."
They were none other than Choi Hyeran, writer of Crown, and Im Hyun-hee, writer of Along Along.
"I'm not usually one for movies, but I watched Intermission three times."
"He played all the instruments himself, and did his own vocals too. How does one man have that many talents?"
The moment Yoon Jay's name came up, the two clucked away like hens, apparently with endless things to say.
"But hold on. He skipped over my next project and snatched up something else instead? He owes me—we did his first work together."
"Technically that wasn't his first work."
"Whatever. Point is, I found him first."
"He didn't strike me as the type to move through connections, though."
"Hah... what a waste."
Kang Ye-jin laughed awkwardly; the two of them seemed to be getting a little too worked up.
"He must be pretty decent, huh? If you two are going on like this."
"Decent doesn't cover it. He's remarkable."
"I figured the movie's success would keep him in film forever, but he's doing drama now?"
Which means there's still a chance for my next project, right? Writer Im Hyun-hee's eyes sparkled.
Kang Ye-jin smiled faintly. Watching established, well-known writers salivate like this was starting to pique her own interest.
"Wait—you didn't choose him yourself?"
"The production company recommended him, so I just agreed to a meeting."
"You of all people could hand-pick whoever you want to work with."
"And the last time I did that, I got burned badly, remember?"
"Ah..." The two fell silent as the story resurfaced.
Three years ago, the lead actor Kang Ye-jin had insisted on casting had suddenly blown off filming and caused one scandal after another. That actor was now angling for a comeback, but with the whole industry in the know, few would touch him again.
"Anyway—meet him first. You'll come around."
"Don't let him slip away. The ratings will be through the roof."
After parting with the two writers, Kang Ye-jin met director Kang Pil-hyun at the arranged location.
"There you are, Writer Kang."
"Well, this is new. The chronically late Director Kang arriving early?"
The two were known as the Kang-Kang Duo, and together they had turned out hit after hit.
"It's about Yoon Jay. I was so curious I made calls all over the place."
"What did you hear?"
"Great person, great actor. That sort of thing. You?"
"Pretty much the same."
Frankly, it was hard to believe any of it. One of the reasons they'd stepped away from work for three years was one unreasonable actor—and that actor, too, had enjoyed a spotless reputation in the industry right up until he'd torched the project.
In the end, that production became the most spectacular flop in the Kang-Kang Duo's filmography.
"Let's just see for ourselves. It's not like he's the only actor available."
There were two more actors on the meeting list besides Yoon Jay.
Seated deliberately at a window-side table, the two spotted a figure approaching who radiated, unmistakably, the aura of a celebrity.
"Oh?"
The meeting venue was a fine-dining restaurant—an apt setting for the 'older brother' of String of Memory.
Yoon Jay wore a white shirt and black slacks, a smartwatch on his wrist for working the field, his hair swept neatly back halfway.
Even his gait stood out—confident, with something quietly commanding about it. First impression: excellent.
"Hello, I'm Yoon Jay."
Without waiting to be shown to his seat, Yoon Jay strode straight up and offered his hand to both of them.
A staff member came rushing over belatedly to intercept him—then caught sight of his face and froze in shock.
Few people wouldn't recognize Yoon Jay...
Director Kang Pil-hyun sensed something strange.
The man was tall—a head above most people—and with that physique and that face, eyes naturally went straight to him. How could the staff member not have known?
"Ah, it's fine. He's with us."
The staff member was waved off, and the two shook Yoon Jay's hand.
"How did you know it was us you were looking for?"
"I saw you outside earlier. Your photos are all over the internet—one search and they come right up."
We saw that too. But this man never seemed to be looking at us?
Something about Yoon Jay's searching gaze unsettled them. The way the staff member had failed to recognize him, too... There was something peculiar in the air around him.
"In any case, a pleasure. I'm Kang Pil-hyun."
"And I'm Kang Ye-jin."
"Are you two related by any chance?"
"No, just high school classmates. People ended up calling us a duo, but we each have our own families."
"I see."
It wasn't just the eyes—his speech was stiff and probing, too, like a man conducting an interrogation.
The vibe was strikingly close to that of a police officer the two of them had once consulted for background research.
He's been acting from the very start.
They had never mentioned sitting by the window. Yet without an audience to perform for, he was already laying claim to the character.
A meeting like this didn't determine casting on its own, but their respect for his seriousness toward the script grew all the same.
"Is this the 'older brother' as you interpret him, Mr. Jay?"
"For now, yes."
"For now?"
"I haven't seen a finished script yet."
Before long, the three of them were deep in conversation about the scenario. Yoon Jay never let his guard slip for a second, cultivating the air of a sharp detective on a stakeout.
"Mm... watching you like this, you really do feel like a cop or a detective. You must have done a lot of research?"
"I ran into that line of work often. Professionally."
Professionally? Ah—right, he was a firefighter.
But then again, couldn't this just be... Yoon Jay as he actually is? Kang Ye-jin spoke up.
"Thank you. Now we'd like to see your everyday self, if you don't mind."
"Shall I?"
The corners of Yoon Jay's eyes curved slightly, and the atmosphere wrapped around him loosened all at once.
Neither the 'older brother' nor Yoon Jay himself was a particularly dramatic sort of man, so the change was subtle.
And yet both of them felt, in their bones, a transformation they couldn't put into words. Something had unmistakably shifted—a clear before and after.
Fascinating man.
Kang Pil-hyun and Kang Ye-jin thought it at the same moment.
And so the first meeting ended.
"See you tomorrow."
"Yes, get home safe."
After confirming that Yoon Jay's car had pulled out of the parking lot, Director Kang Pil-hyun went back inside the restaurant and sought out the staff member who had grabbed him.
"Sorry—one quick question. About stopping Yoon Jay earlier."
"Oh? Ah—yes, of course."
"Why did you do it?"
"Hmm..."
The staff member searched for the right words, hesitating over how to explain.
"It's... I'm honestly not sure how to put it. He just felt like someone about to start a scene? If that makes sense?"
"Like... someone who'd come to catch a criminal?"
"Oh! Yes, exactly! That's the feeling I got, so I grabbed him first. We had other guests, and I couldn't let there be a commotion..."
The staff member lamented how mortifying it was to have only recognized him after the fact—should have asked for an autograph, at least.
So that's what it was. Director Kang Pil-hyun chuckled.
And the very next day, they met again—this time at a cheap roadside pocha, a setting suited to the 'younger brother.'
Same clothes as yesterday?
Sharp-eyed as ever, Director Kang Pil-hyun spotted the differences.
The smartwatch replaced by a gold bracelet, his hair mussed carelessly so that it fell over his forehead, and a walk entirely unlike yesterday's.
But why does he feel so completely different?
The stride was uneven, the body swaying in small, loose oscillations—the swagger of a street thug.
Exactly like the 'younger brother': a man who'd become the respectable head of a company, yet couldn't quite bury the street gangster underneath.
"Hello. Get home all right yesterday?"
The words themselves were courteous, but the voice scraped at something, strangely irksome. Is that really the same man from yesterday?
Can a person really change like this?
Kang Pil-hyun and Kang Ye-jin looked at each other.