Is This Korean Actor Famous?
“How should we address you going forward?”
“Yoon Jae-hee and Yoon Jay — both of them are me. You may call me whichever you prefer. But I'm used to being called Yoon Jay, so please continue with that.”
“This is insane.”
“No wonder he was on another level from the moment he debuted.”
Buster, on their first vacation in ages, were gathered in their lodging watching the talk show episode featuring Yoon Jay. The truth Yoon Jay had carried with him all those years, and just how extraordinary he had been — shown through archival footage — came through in vivid detail.
“Wow, if that were me, I'd just coast on my old glory forever.”
“Same.”
“Absolutely badass.”
“So that's why Do-jun was being all weird and cagey back when Yeon-woo hyung threw that fit.”
“Ah, that was...”
He was talking about the time Ji Yeon-woo had suspected Yoon Do-jun's suspicious half-brother — the man he'd suddenly run into again at a funeral — of being up to no good. Ji Yeon-woo washed his face dry, mortified at the memory. These days every member of Buster adored Yoon Jay, and he'd even butt in whenever Do-jun met up with his brother, tagging along and having a great time.
Wow. What did I even say to a hyung like that?
It turned out that hyung was Yoon Jae-hee, the one who'd shattered Korea's youngest-ever records and rewritten its history. Ji Yeon-woo rounded on Yoon Do-jun, needling him without much reason to.
“Why didn't you tell us, huh?”
“I don't owe my bandmates an explanation about my own brother, do I?”
“Hey, get over here.”
Yoon Do-jun snickered and dodged Ji Yeon-woo's grabbing hands. Ji Yeon-woo knew that Do-jun sometimes screamed into his pillow and kicked his blankets in agony — usually right after seeing Yoon Jay. And now that the full truth was out on national television, wouldn't it be even more mortifying for him?
“...What do we need to give the downstairs neighbors this time?”
“Hanwoo beef? Did we already send that?”
“No idea. We're in a premium suite, and we still have to worry about noise complaints...”
Their leader, Yoo Jihyuk, sighed. Their runaway popularity had moved them into a living room the size of a sports field in a luxury residence, but the members were such energetic beagles that they still had to mind the people below.
Yoo Jihyuk's phone buzzed.
It was a good thing — thanks to Yoon Jay, he'd managed to reconnect with a trainee hyung he'd drifted apart from long ago.
Looking at the photos of Sundance's scenery, Yoo Jihyuk felt a quiet pang of envy. Maybe I'll go somewhere like that on our next break.
Back then, when Yoon Jay roamed across America deciding where to settle in a given city, his criteria were simple: somewhere pleasant to live, with plenty to see, and above all rich in outdoor resources. Utah was, after Florida, one of the states where he'd stayed longest.
Bryce Canyon and countless national parks, salt deserts — natural scenery to drink in at every turn — plus ski resorts, camping, horseback riding, fishing, and even dinosaur dig sites.
“Good morning, Julia.”
“JJ! Iced Americano, right? You've been coming in a lot lately.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He'd been idly sipping coffee at the café he'd wandered into one day and made his regular spot. Julia even threw in a sweet cookie on the house.
“You said you came to Utah for sightseeing, right? How long are you planning to stay? I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine.”
“I was sightseeing. No need to rush anything.”
“You said was?”
“I like it here more than I expected, so I'm thinking of staying a while. Know any good work?”
This was how Yoon Jay used to find jobs. He could mimic almost anything after seeing it done just once.
At first people were skeptical, but Yoon Jay worked so well that even the ones who'd recommended him ended up astonished.
He knew nothing of those behind-the-scenes reactions, but the prospect of keeping this handsome man around a while longer brightened Julia's expression considerably.
“As it happens, a friend of mine is looking for staff... Have you ever gone hiking? Or rock climbing?”
“If it's physical activity, I'm confident.”
“It's harder than it looks... Hold on — Caleb? Come over to the café. I think I found the employee you've been hunting for.”
The friend he's introducing me to is a guy? What a relief.
So many people had been pressing in on him lately that it had become an awkward situation. Though, admittedly, quite a few of those had been men as well.
“Oh, wow. You really are in great shape.”
“Hello.”
“Ah! Hello. Are you, by any chance, the guy Julia won't stop singing praises about?”
“Hey! Why are you bringing that up!”
And so, in Utah, Yoon Jay worked more or less as a freelancer. People he'd grown close to during his long stay passed jobs his way, short stints at a time — he guided tourists, worked safety detail at a ski resort, serviced jet skis, and picked up all manner of odd jobs besides.
“Hyung. We're here.”
“...Already?”
“Yep.”
Kang Hajun gently shook Yoon Jay's shoulder. Yoon Jay stepped out of the car and stretched. His memories of this place weren't bad ones.
“Whoa. Incredible.”
“It feels... like we've landed in Canada.”
Intermission had been nominated in the World Cinema Dramatic section, and its four lead actors had gathered to attend Sundance together. A few production company staffers with a keen interest in film had tagged along, as had production supervisor Choi Sujin.
“Not much has...”
...changed, has it? Yoon Jay murmured. Director Shin Ji-won, catching the tail end of it, blurted out a question.
“Mr. Jay, have you ever won anything here?”
“No. Back then I only entered American productions, so The Child never... I keep digging up the past, don't I?”
“It's remarkable, though.”
Yoon Jay sighed and stretched out his long arms.
“I actually worked at that ski resort over there once.”
“Oh. Will we get any free time to sightsee?”
“We fly straight back home.”
The success of Intermission had made everyone busy people. Yoon Jay, too, would only fulfill his fixed schedule here before returning to Korea to prepare for String of Memory.
Nam Chan-hee held up his phone screen for Yoon Jay to see.
“Hyung, so did you actually go to the dinosaur sites too? I heard there are dinosaur fossils around here!”
“I did. I was a tour guide, after all.”
At that, the three of them groaned in disappointment. Language would obviously be no barrier, and a man who'd worked as a professional tour guide would be a blast just to tag along with. The only problem was the lack of time.
“Ah, shame. If it weren't for the schedule, I'd love to look around.”
“Isn't it possible you'll run into someone you know?”
“Who knows.”
He'd vanished without even a word of farewell, so surely they hadn't forgotten him? Yoon Jay rolled his neck from side to side. Managing Director Kwak Dohyun, stepping out of the car beside him, stretched too.
“Aigoo, my back. Mr. Jay, this carrier yours?”
“No, it's fine. I've got it.”
“I'm the acting manager here — these things are my job.”
“Seeing you right now, sir, I think it'd be better if I did. Please don't strain yourself.”
Yoon Jay took Kwak Dohyun's luggage down for him instead. For all it clearly weighed a fair amount, the way he lifted it as though it were nothing drew a short, admiring whistle from Kwak Dohyun.
For Sundance, it wasn't road manager Han Jin-woo who'd come along, but Managing Director Kwak Dohyun.
Astra had reached out using the business card they'd received from Jayden, and the moment they heard Yoon Jay would be attending the Sundance Film Festival, the other side had made the first move.
“Then I'll come to you. How about we meet face-to-face and talk then?”
The other party was clearly quite eager, but the Yoon Jay of today was as composed as ever.
Mr. Jay doesn't seem very interested?
If he had no interest at all, he wouldn't have handed over a business card in the first place. At the very least, a conversation was possible. And privately, Kwak Dohyun wanted to know whether Yoon Jay could hold his own in Hollywood, too.
“There's not much worth watching this year.”
“Too early to judge.”
“Maybe, but still...”
“What about this one?”
People working between Hollywood and Broadway — circles with a genuine interest in film and playwriting — had made their way to the Sundance venue. Talk of a lean year aside, they planned on watching nearly every film in the program anyway. These were figures of considerable influence and fame in the industry.
“Total production budget of three billion won with roughly a hundred billion in sales... that's Powerball-level returns.”
“The production company must be laughing all the way to the bank.”
“The director's the one who made Adagio.”
“Oh...? What have they been up to all this time? Adagio was well reviewed, as I recall, but it didn't exactly set the box office on fire?”
“The Adagio director's follow-up... This one I have to see.”
Shin Ji-won's debut film, Adagio, had earned strong notices at Sundance back in the day. They each picked up a poster for Intermission.
“Luke, what are you studying so hard?”
“This actor. Doesn't he look familiar?”
The man called Luke pointed at Yoon Jay on the poster.
“Hmm?”
“Look closely.”
“...I do feel like I've seen him somewhere?”
There was a flicker of déjà vu, though he couldn't tell whether it was real or just suggestion from Luke insisting so hard.
Then, at the hotel entrance, they spotted two familiar figures.
“Oh? Isn't that... Giuseppe Argento?”
“And that's Bill Clement beside him. Good heavens.”
“This is no time to gawk — let's go say hello.”
At the arrival of a world-renowned master director, the group hurried over. Chances like this didn't come often.
“Maestro, hello! Do you remember me, by any chance? We met in Venice some time ago...”
“Ah! Of course I remember.”
Bill Clement received their handshakes. The group's faces glowed with excitement. To cross paths with a master of his stature by sheer chance — that was not something one could plan.
“What brings two gentlemen like you to a place like this? We hadn't heard you were coming.”
They hadn't even been listed among the jurors. The arrival of the two men would inject fresh life into plenty of film people here; their mere presence was enough to make the festival committee leap into action and wait on them hand and foot.
“We meant to watch one film quietly and be on our way.”
“Which one...?”
“The film on that poster you're holding.”
“Intermission? Is this Korean actor famous?”
“Famous indeed.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Jay Yoon... The Korean Wave had made a handful of actors household names, but this one drew a blank.
“Ah!”
Luke, who'd been glaring at Yoon Jay on the poster the whole time, suddenly cried out.
“That man! It's that man!”
“Who?”
What kind of actor could it be, that Giuseppe Argento and Bill Clement both took such notice of him? Everyone leaned in for Luke's answer — and what came out of his mouth was so far out of left field that they all froze.
“The firefighter who saved my daughter!”
“What?”
“Oh, my God! Is he attending the festival? I heard he declined a thank-you meeting once before, but I've been wanting to express my gratitude.”
Those close to Luke could understand why he was making such a fuss. He'd confided in his nearest acquaintances about the child who had miraculously survived the 115 Disaster.
An American firefighter... who's also a Korean actor?
That gap was far too wide to process. Those who still couldn't wrap their heads around it pulled out their phones and began searching Yoon Jay's name.
“Could it be that you gentlemen came because of this as well?”
Of course that couldn't be it — but they asked anyway.
Giuseppe Argento merely shrugged. In truth, the moment he'd learned Yoon Jae-hee had made a film again, he'd summoned his agency in a fit of excitement.
He'd had them translate every article about Yoon Jay coming out of Korea and read each one cover to cover. And in doing so, he learned just how earnestly the man had lived his life in the years between.
“No. We came simply to watch that boy's return to film.”
“I beg your pardon? ‘That boy’?”
Why did he sound as though he'd known him for decades?
“Don't you all know The Child? Director Lee Young-chang's film.”
“One of that director's films...? Yes, of course we do. The child who played the lead was absolutely extraordinary, wasn't he?”
“That amazing kid is this actor.”
“Excuse me?”
“So it hasn't reached this side of the world yet?”
The Child had inspired countless film people across Europe, though in America it had never sparked quite the same fervor. Even so, anyone who knew anything about cinema knew the film — and the actor.
“Really?”
“Oh... but a firefighter?”
“...Medal of Honor? What on earth is that about now?”
“Oh my...”
On the wiki page Yoon Jay's fans had hastily updated, his dazzling history now stood out in bold.
Hollywood had its share of actors with unusual pasts, but few could match the sheer variety and strangeness of Yoon Jay's.
“Would it be all right if we joined you for Intermission?”
“Why not? I'd be curious to hear the younger generation's take as well.”
The very people who'd been so indifferent mere minutes ago lit up in an instant. To sit alongside the great Giuseppe Argento and Bill Clement themselves — and besides, curiosity had been piqued by the actor on the poster with his one-of-a-kind résumé. Just what kind of film was this going to be?