Busan International Film Festival (1)
A dress shop located in Apgujeong.
Eun Chae-won had come with her staff to pick out the dress she would wear on the red carpet at the Busan International Film Festival.
The fitting area was small but elegantly arranged for VIP clients.
A red velvet sofa sat beside a table holding light refreshments. Behind the curtain where clients changed, a selection of dresses hung neatly alongside matching necklaces, earrings, and shoes.
Kim Min-kyung, the stylist who had been dressing Eun Chae-won since she was young, first examined the eight dresses the shop had prepared.
She pulled two that seemed closest to her client’s taste and hung them at the front of the rack.
“Chae-won, you’ll only try on two, right?”
Most actresses poured enormous effort into choosing outfits for awards ceremonies, parties, or film festivals. For them, a dress was more than clothing—it was a symbol. The choice could brand an actress as innocent, sexy, elegant, or refined, and that image directly influenced future roles and endorsements. Photographs from the red carpet and photo zones spread instantly across social media and news outlets, becoming permanent records. A single dress could earn someone the title of best- or worst-dressed, shaping the next chapter of her career. That was why actresses researched what others planned to wear and selected their own with extreme care, determined to stand out.
Lesser-known newcomers sometimes chose daring dresses to generate buzz. Eun Chae-won, however, had started as a child actress and once carried the title “Nation’s Little Sister.” She had always favored dresses that emphasized a pure, innocent image. She had never once chosen her own outfit; she simply wore whatever was presented to her. Even when brands prepared multiple options, she tried only the one or two her stylist recommended, keeping fittings brief.
Kim Min-kyung had therefore selected two clean, elegant dresses, assuming the usual routine.
“Hmm… I think I’d like to try a few more this time.”
Eun Chae-won chose an off-shoulder silver dress that left her shoulders bare and a black dress whose hem was daringly slit up to mid-thigh. Both were far more mature and sensual than the blue mini dress and apricot shirred dress Kim Min-kyung had picked.
“You like those? They’re styles you’ve never worn before. Are you sure?”
“Considering the lead role I’m playing, the ones you chose would probably suit the character better. Still, showing a completely different image might be good too.”
Eun Chae-won had recently portrayed strong, independent women in Over the Boundary and Queen’s Move. For her next project or endorsement, a fresh image felt like the smarter strategy.
“You really think everything through, don’t you?”
Thus, for the first time in her acting career, Eun Chae-won decided to wear a bold dress. For her stylist, seeing her client in something new was genuinely exciting.
“Oh my, oh my, oh my. Chae-won! You look stunning!”
The silver dress she tried first flowed smoothly over her curves like liquid moonlight. Its off-shoulder neckline made her fair skin glow even brighter. Under the warm indoor lights the fabric shifted subtly, like gentle waves, while the clean cut at the waist tapered into an elegant mermaid silhouette.
“Wow. Our Chae-won… How is this possible? Should we just go with this one? It’s perfect.”
“Really? I was worried it might be a little much.”
“No, it’s close to perfect. If you walk the red carpet in this, no one else will even register.”
“Hmm.”
“Still, let’s try the others too.”
The black dress came next. When the light touched it, a soft sheen rippled across the fabric, tracing every line of her body. The contrast between the dark material and her pale skin sharpened her features, while the structured bodice accentuated her figure. The deep slit revealed flashes of her thigh—enough to draw admiration even from another woman.
With her black hair and the silk dress, she radiated a cool, sophisticated aura that only heightened her natural elegance and sensuality. She looked like a finished photograph—flawless and untouchable.
“Chae-won. This is it.”
Kim Min-kyung spoke with absolute certainty. No matter what anyone said, at this year’s festival, her actress would be the brightest star.
“You’re so beautiful. No—beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m frustrated I can’t find better words.”
“I think this one feels more elegant too.”
“Exactly! Elegant, sexy, chic, luxurious—everything at once.”
“Hehe. Then let’s go with this. Oh, but…”
Eun Chae-won paused and glanced at the shoes arranged nearby.
“The shoes are sponsored, right?”
“Yes. Alexander McQueen sent a pair. Ji-yeon!”
The youngest stylist hurried over with a box. Inside were two pairs—one black, one white—each with slightly different designs and heel heights.
“Both look great with the dress. If we’re thinking about the bag, maybe the white ones?”
“I think the higher heels would look better.”
“With the dress?”
“No. With Kang Tae-san.”
“Kang Tae-san?”
Kim Min-kyung tilted her head at the sudden mention.
“During filming, Kang Tae-san is so tall that it was hard to keep both of you in the same frame. We’ll be walking the red carpet together, so I thought raising my heels a bit would make the picture look better.”
The meticulous thoughtfulness of considering even her co-star’s height made Kim Min-kyung break into a cold sweat. She realized once again that becoming a true star wasn’t something just anyone could do. That level of foresight was exactly what separated the greats from everyone else. As expected, her actress was the best.
“Do you know what Kang Tae-san is wearing?”
“They said they’d match whatever we choose.”
“Black should go with almost anything.”
Eun Chae-won briefly pictured Kang Tae-san in a suit. She had never seen him dressed that way, so the image was hazy, yet she felt it would suit him.
“You’re smiling. Does that mean you like the shoes?”
“Was I smiling? I don’t think so.”
Eun Chae-won cleared her throat and stepped out of the shoes. Her cheeks felt warm, so she quickly changed the subject.
“Shall we go eat?”
***
A few days later.
On the morning of the festival’s opening ceremony, Kang Tae-san boarded the company van at dawn and headed for Busan. He had already received makeup and hair styling, but he was still wearing a tracksuit, which made the overall look slightly odd. The agency had offered to book a hotel room in advance, but he had firmly refused.
His reason was simple: meeting senior actors early would turn the trip into work rather than rest. Besides, Eun Chae-won was definitely coming, and he had no idea what kind of extra tasks she might assign him this time. It was better to endure one intense day than spread the hardship out.
“Hyung, did you sleep well? Is driving okay?”
“I used to wake up even earlier for manual labor. Driving is practically a vacation.”
“We don’t have any schedules until evening, so let’s take it easy. If you’re tired, we can stop at a rest area.”
“Got it.”
Busan. Kang Tae-san had never been there before, and traveling with Min Jin-cheol made it feel like a real trip. Remembering their days together at the orphanage filled him with gratitude and emotion.
“Since we’re already talking about it, want to stop at the rest area and grab some snacks?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Min Jin-cheol waved the company card and declared they could eat whatever they wanted. Kang Tae-san raised both hands and cheered for free food.
They parked at the rest stop and were about to head inside when Min Jin-cheol stopped him.
“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?”
“I wanted to get some potato balls…”
“If you walk around like that, people will swarm you. You still don’t realize how recognizable you are. Anyone can see ‘actor’ written all over your face.”
“What about the bathroom…?”
“I’ll empty a water bottle for you. Or we can pull over on some quiet road later.”
“……Hyung? You just said I’m an actor.”
“You really need to go?”
“I’m worried I’ll want to later.”
“We’ll deal with that when it happens. Worst case, we’ll stop at a restaurant.”
“Then can I get tteokbokki too?”
“Fine. And walnut pastries?”
“Deal.”
Min Jin-cheol, equally excited about visiting Busan for the first time, returned with potato balls, tteokbokki, walnut pastries, hot dogs, and even a box of instant noodles he had somehow acquired.
“Thanks, hyung. I’ll eat well!”
“Me too!”
Kang Tae-san speared a steaming white potato ball with a toothpick. A light dusting of sugar had melted slightly from the heat, giving it a glossy sheen. Expecting a savory, rich flavor, he took a big bite.
“……Hyung, did you seriously put sugar on these?”
“What are you talking about? Of course potato balls get sugar.”
“Who puts sugar on potatoes? Do you put sugar on kongguksu too?”
“Yah, who puts salt on kongguksu? Obviously sugar!”
“Aish, you’re a lost cause. Does Yeon-joo noona know you eat kongguksu with sugar?”
“Hey, she’s the one who introduced me to it.”
“……That explains why people say it’s delicious.”
Kang Tae-san quietly finished the rest of the potato balls without further argument. They chatted about nothing in particular, stopped at a roadside restroom, and continued driving.
After roughly five and a half hours, they finally arrived.
“Busan Station!”
“Whoa!”
Kang Tae-san pressed his face against the window, mesmerized by the grand sight of Busan Station—every bit as impressive as Seoul Station.
“Oh, there’s Jae-woong Pizza!”
“Huh. Should we get some at the hotel later?”
“Good idea. We can pick it up after the opening ceremony.”
The van passed Busan Station and headed toward the underground parking lot of the Park Hyatt Hotel in Haeundae. A Genesis sedan was already waiting there.
“Looks like Senior Eun Chae-won is already here.”
“Yeah. We decided to use just one car for the ride. You’re the only one getting in.”
“We’re riding together?”
“Apparently you’re supposed to arrive in the same car for the entrance. They want the escort shot.”
“Ah……”
Now that he thought about it, he had seen footage of male actors escorting female actors during company briefings. Since this was his first red carpet and first awards ceremony, arriving together seemed far less nerve-wracking than walking in alone.
“See you later, hyung.”
Kang Tae-san walked over to the Genesis, the festival’s biggest sponsor. He had already changed into the formal attire prepared in the van. The dress shoes felt unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable, and the suit itself was something he had almost never worn, so his posture was awkward. Still, the sound of his heels echoing through the parking garage wasn’t unpleasant. For a moment he felt like a proper working adult—or perhaps a man on his way to a blind date. Either way, it was a life he could never have imagined just a year earlier.
Knock knock—
When he tapped on the window, it rolled down. Inside sat Eun Chae-won in a black silk dress.
“Excuse me.”
Kang Tae-san climbed in beside her. He could feel her gaze on him, but he didn’t let it show.
‘Is it because of the clothes? She looks… different.’
She was undeniably beautiful. He had always thought of her only as his strict senior, but how many men in Korea could sit beside Eun Chae-won in a dress and ride with her like this? Even Kang Tae-san, who had been too busy surviving to pay much attention to romance, felt his heart pounding at that moment.
“Um……”
“Hey.”
They spoke at the same time.
“You go first.”
“No, please speak first, Senior.”
“Then……”
Eun Chae-won stared at him intently.
‘W-what? Why is she looking at me like that? Wow, she really is… pretty.’
“Your shoes.”
“Sorry?”
“I think you’re wearing mismatched shoes.”
“What?!”
Kang Tae-san quickly looked down. In the dim light of the car he had to lean forward to see clearly—indeed, one shoe was navy and the other black.
No wonder his feet had felt strangely uncomfortable while walking.
“Ahem. I’ll go change them right away.”
Fortunately the car hadn’t started yet. Kang Tae-san hurried back to his own vehicle, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Eun Chae-won watched him go and let out a soft laugh.