Hometown (3)
Apartment construction site in Pyeongtaek.
The sun beat down mercilessly, and the air thick with cement dust and grit scraped at his throat with every breath.
Min Jin-cheol’s hard hat was already soaked through with sweat, clinging to his head like a soggy rag.
Even the slightest tilt of his chin sent rivulets of perspiration cascading down like a water park ride.
His massive frame let him haul more bricks and cement bags than anyone else, but it also meant he burned through energy faster than the rest.
If he had his way, he would have stripped off the helmet and work clothes entirely.
Standing behind the outdoor AC unit felt exactly like doing squats in an oven.
“Hey, Jin-cheol! Move it already! What, you holding a memorial service up there?”
Mr. Choi shouted from the stairs, his tone rough.
When Min Jin-cheol first arrived on site, the sheer size of him had made most of the crew tread carefully.
But once they sensed his situation, their true colors showed.
Swearing was their default vocabulary, and barking orders passed for greetings.
Min Jin-cheol said nothing. He simply bent down, hoisted another bag onto his shoulder, and endured the throbbing ache.
“Yes, sir! Coming!”
Work that had started at sunrise paused at midday to escape the worst of the heat.
During lunch, the laborers gathered at the company cafeteria, trading crude jokes laced with profanity or reminiscing about last night’s drinking session with cigarettes dangling from their lips.
Their conversations always circled the same three topics: booze, women, and gambling.
Who had lost how many rounds at which table, which hostess at which bar was worth another visit—those stories flew around the room.
“That girl at the room salon kept spitting out the expensive liquor I bought her. What a waste, damn it.”
“Why wouldn’t she? She probably couldn’t stomach the sight of your face.”
“What the hell did you just say, you son of a—?”
Min Jin-cheol never joined them.
Forcing laughter at unfunny stories while choking on the stench of sweat and smoke was more exhausting than the work itself.
So he always sat in the corner, quietly finishing a single piece of bread and a carton of milk. His stomach emptied quickly, but at least his mind stayed at peace.
He pulled out his phone.
The moment he pressed the call button, his wife Baek Yeon-ju’s voice came through—the only comfort in his day.
“Honey, did you eat?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“You just had bread and milk again, didn’t you? Eat properly. It’s so hot—you’ll lose all your strength.”
“I’m fine. I’ll finish up and head home soon. How about you? Any morning sickness?”
His wife was due any day now. The simple fact that their child was growing inside her gave him the strength to shoulder another bag.
Yet there were days when even that small hope felt distant.
Day labor paid by the day. There was no guarantee he would be called tomorrow, and ten days of work never built any real experience.
No severance, no benefits. Becoming a skilled technician required separate study, but opportunities like that were nearly impossible to find.
If someone told him to study after work, he would have no answer. Passion wasn’t the issue—time and energy were.
“Haa.”
After hanging up, a sigh escaped him.
Min Jin-cheol prided himself on working harder than anyone.
He refused to blame himself.
Still, the thought of how long he would have to keep doing this kind of work made his chest tighten.
Some men grumbled about money lost at last night’s gambling table. Others bragged about women they had slept with as if it were an achievement.
Plenty of them crawled out of hangovers just to stand on the construction site.
Back in school, he had hated the gangs that roamed in packs, bullying the weak, drinking, gambling, and harassing girls.
He had even ended up in juvenile detention because he could not stand the sight of them.
Yet the adult world was full of the same kind of men. He was learning, painfully, that raw strength alone could never change anything.
‘Haa… This isn’t easy.’
For now, all he could do was endure for his wife and the child who would soon be born.
Min Jin-cheol bent down again and lifted another load of bricks. There was nothing else he could do but silently finish the work in front of him.
Bzzt— Bzzt—
The phone in his pocket vibrated.
Thinking it might be his wife, he set the bag down and checked the screen.
An unknown number.
A cold fear gripped him. What if his wife had collapsed and someone was calling from the hospital?
“……Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Min Jin-cheol?”
“Yes, it is… Who’s calling?”
Min Jin-cheol swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed visibly from the tension.
“Do you know Kang Tae-san?”
“Ah… yes.”
“Mr. Tae-san recommended you as his manager.”
“Manager?”
“Yes. This is Mun Jeong-gi, Director of Planning at Kidari Entertainment.”
Min Jin-cheol stared at his phone screen again, wondering if he had heard correctly.
Still an unknown number. He scratched the back of his head.
“Is this… a voice phishing scam?”
***
Fortunately, it was not a scam.
These days, voice phishing gangs knew victims’ names, addresses, and even the names of their acquaintances. Baek Yeon-ju had warned him to be careful, so his mind had jumped straight to the worst possibility.
He had assumed it was one of those frauds that offered a job and then demanded an upfront payment.
But the call from Director Mun of Kidari Entertainment a few days ago had been genuine.
When he immediately phoned Kang Tae-san, his friend had simply said he wanted to work together if Min Jin-cheol was willing.
“Wow. So this is Nonhyeon-dong.”
The sleek headquarters of Kidari Entertainment in Nonhyeon-dong.
At 190 cm tall, Min Jin-cheol stood with his mouth slightly open, staring up at the modern building.
He had only ever worked on sites where rebar was exposed and dust filled the air. Stepping into a finished building for a job interview felt surreal.
Even though he lived in Seoul, he rarely had reason to come to Gangnam.
On the way home after the interview, he planned to stop by the tteokbokki place Baek Yeon-ju liked and bring some back for her.
Min Jin-cheol pressed the bell beside the entrance.
Because celebrities came and went, security was tight.
“Hello. You must be Mr. Min Jin-cheol?”
“Ah, yes.”
A female staff member from HR greeted him. She looked about his age, neatly dressed in a blouse and slacks, and began showing him around the office.
The director he was supposed to meet was still out at an urgent meeting.
“Our company offers excellent benefits. We have solid insurance coverage, hobby and self-development support, and male employees are encouraged to take paternity leave. If a project the company invested in does well, you’ll receive a bonus on top of your salary. There’s also a welfare platform where you can buy appliances and groceries at discounted prices. Any questions?”
She rattled off the perks in one breath.
Min Jin-cheol had never worked anywhere with the four major insurances, let alone benefits that sounded this generous. He could only stare in stunned silence.
He thought he had also heard something about paternity leave.
Men did not give birth, so how could they take paternity leave? Had he misheard? He wanted to ask, but the staff member spoke so matter-of-factly that he could not bring himself to question it.
Just then, Director Mun Jeong-gi returned from his meeting.
He too wore a crisp suit and carried himself with quiet professionalism—the very image of a corporate man.
“Welcome back, Director.”
“Hello.”
“Sorry I’m late. Let’s do the interview in my office.”
“Not at all. Yes, sir.”
Min Jin-cheol followed Mun Jeong-gi into his office.
Having only ever seen makeshift site offices inside shipping containers, the clean, modern space felt almost unreal.
He glanced around discreetly, suddenly self-conscious of how shabby he must look.
“Tae-san told me you helped him out when that fight broke out.”
“Ah, it was more like I just scared them off… haha.”
The moment Mun Jeong-gi saw Min Jin-cheol’s imposing build, he understood why Kang Tae-san had recommended him.
“Being a manager might not look like much, but it’s actually quite demanding.”
Mun Jeong-gi calmly explained the job.
He had once been a manager himself.
He had seen every side of the entertainment industry on his way up and knew exactly what the role required.
First, responsibility. Second, responsibility. Third, responsibility.
A manager had to set aside their own ego and look after every aspect of an actor’s life.
Anyone with a strong ego could never do it. If caring for someone else did not suit your personality, it was better not to try at all.
Yet it was also different from blindly flattering the celebrity.
People like that usually had oversized egos of their own—they were simply terrified the actor might dislike them.
What the job truly needed was someone whose own center was steady, who could guide the actor wisely while looking after them.
Only those with the quiet strength of a devoted mother could survive long in this world.
“There’s a lot of small, tedious work. Driving the actor around is basic. You’ll also manage schedules, check their condition, handle personal events, and so on. No nights off, no weekends. Of course, the pay reflects that.”
“Ah…”
“Most people think anyone can be a manager. But while anyone can start, not just anyone survives.”
Director Mun studied Min Jin-cheol, who remained silent.
He had heard the man was Kang Tae-san’s senior from school. With that huge frame, would he really be able to swallow his pride and do the job?
“Do you think you can handle it? Right now it’s tough, but once you’ve built up some experience, the fieldwork decreases and things get easier. Especially in entertainment, connections matter even after you get older, so if you start accumulating experience now, it’ll definitely help you later.”
Instead of answering, Min Jin-cheol bowed his head.
Seeing that reaction, Mun Jeong-gi felt relieved he had given the warning speech.
If the man was already hesitating after hearing the reality, he probably was not suited for the job.
Better not to hire someone who would quit after a few complaints.
But Min Jin-cheol was thinking something entirely different.
‘From what he’s saying, it sounds like I just drive Tae-san around, listen when he’s having a hard time, and help out at home if he needs anything. I’d do that for a close friend anyway.’
He had braced himself for something far worse after the director’s grim description.
He remembered hearing that the entertainment industry was even harsher than people imagined.
Yet the core of the job was simply “Take good care of Kang Tae-san.”
At least he would not have to curse people out the way he had during that scuffle near Sadang Station.
With the title of manager, he would have a legitimate reason to deal with troublemakers.
And he would get paid for it, plus the four major insurances?
It was the very definition of a stable job.
The “no nights or weekends” part was a concern, but he already worked like that on the construction site.
“Mr. Min Jin-cheol, if you don’t think you can do it, it’s better to say so now so we can both—”
“If you give me the chance, I’ll do my absolute best!”
“Pardon?”
“I’ve never been a manager before, but I’ll give it everything I have! I’ll take good care of Tae-san— I mean, Actor Kang Tae-san!”
Director Mun chuckled at the stiff, earnest reply.
For some reason, Min Jin-cheol’s honest face overlapped with Kang Tae-san’s in his mind.
One was a genius, the other a diligent workhorse, yet both carried the same gentle air that put people at ease.
“All right. Then I’ll be counting on you.”
After his first day at Kidari Entertainment ended, Min Jin-cheol immediately called Baek Yeon-ju.
She must have been waiting, because her bright voice came through before the first ring even finished.
“Yeah, Yeon-ju.”
“Did the interview go well? How was it? Was the work hard? Even if it is, just hang in there. It’s an opportunity Tae-san worked hard to give you.”
“Heh, it wasn’t hard at all.”
The job was different from what he had been doing, so there would be challenges.
But how difficult could it really be?
As expected from a large company, the employee benefits were generous—especially the family and childcare support, plus coverage for weddings and other life events.
Min Jin-cheol spoke to his wife with a voice full of happiness.
“I’m going to work at this company until the day I die.”
His young wife laughed brightly at his solemn vow.
“Of course. Even after you die and turn to bones, you’ll still be working there.”