The 67th Arts Awards
"Bambi, I love you!!"
"That's my boy, you're the best!!"
Cries of what could only be Biyeon members rang out from every direction.
I walked the red carpet, my head turning busily this way and that.
"Bambi, are you hurt anywhere?!"
"No, I'm fine!"
At the long-awaited question, I looked straight toward the voice.
When I called back loudly, the reporters' shutters clicked even faster.
Good call coming out today.
Haram's disappearance had been yesterday, but the incident hadn't been wrapped up until the small hours of this morning. Which meant it would have taken quite a while for the news to reach my fans.
Of all things, he had to post on the fan café.
At the time, all I'd thought about was finding Haram somehow, and I'd acted without a second thought. Thanks to that, the public investigation had moved faster—but seeing how worried I'd made Biyeon, it weighed on me.
When I smiled brightly as if nothing had happened, I could see relief slowly spreading across the fans' faces.
"I love you, Bambi!"
The firmly installed fence kept them from getting close, but as if refusing to be defeated by it, big voices came back at me anyway.
I was so scared.I was worried.I'm so glad you weren't hurt. Words and looks full of love came pouring down.
They were far too generous for someone like me, and yet they were things I couldn't bring myself to miss.
Wearing the smile I'd prepared in advance, I kept repeating I'm okay and thank you.
And that was when it happened.
A colossal lion's roar came from behind me.
"TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, WOULD YOU? BAMBI!!!!!!!"
Good grief.
"...I-I will."
My composure crumbled before I could stop it.
Stammering with both eyes wide open must have been an amusing sight, because laughter burst out from all around.
The reporters' shutters sped up further still.
I managed to fix my expression belatedly, but my heart was still hammering.
That scared me.
Wow, that genuinely startled me.
For a second I thought a thunderbolt had come down.
"You can head inside now."
"Yes. Thank you."
Before following the path the staff member pointed out, I bowed deeply to the fans one last time.
"Bring home an award, my boy!!"
To Biyeon's shameless outburst, I answered with an awkward laugh.
The alley leading into the awards venue was swarmed by packs of reporters. It was the spot for interim interviews, where the usual questions flew back and forth—award prospects, first impressions, that sort of thing.
In my case, though, things were different.
"Actor-nim, may I ask about what happened yesterday?"
"According to the police's latest announcement, there are additional missing persons. Do you know anything about that?"
"There's talk that there wasn't just one perpetrator—"
Is this an awards ceremony or a press conference?
The barrage of questions was full of urgency, and I had plenty I wanted to say in return.
Unfortunately, the words I was allowed to speak had already been decided.
"I'm sorry, but since this is an active police investigation, I'm afraid I can't comment."
"Ah..."
The reporters retreated half with knew that was coming reactions, half with come on, just give us one word ones.
Having built a wall around every question, I made my way inside.
No reporters now, so surely the interrogation was over—
"Hey. Word is you got kidnapped. You all right?"
Ha.
"First of all, I wasn't kidnapped. And I look fine, don't I? All four limbs intact."
"You brat. Don't brush me off with jokes. Do you have any idea how shocked I was this morning?"
Actor Kim Seokjun scowled.
It's been a while since I saw him.
Not wanting to dwell on that topic, I changed the subject.
"How's filming going? You started shooting Killing Horn Season 2 last month, right?"
"Yeah, well... I'm having fun with it."
Kim Seokjun rubbed his temple with an embarrassed look. It was the reaction of a man who, back at the casting stage, had assumed he was just a simple supporting character—how could he have known he'd end up carrying Season 2 as the lead?
I smiled and tossed him a joke.
"Do you still get nervous every time they call 'action'?"
"Hey, who's nervous? I shot Season 1 without a care in the world."
All I thought about was the money, he grumbled.
That was his old verbal tic, one he'd carried since The Butterfly Flower on the Zelkova Tree.
Sure you did.
Money doesn't interest him at all anymore.
Seeing right through him, I snorted.
"Hyung, do you know your eyes are sparkling right now?"
"...Stop saying that, you rascal."
Kim Seokjun answered with a sheepish face. Perhaps embarrassed at having gotten worked up for nothing, he hurriedly changed the subject.
"Did you prep an acceptance speech? I've got a feeling you're taking Best Actor."
"Me? You and Junghyun-hyung are both nominated too, you know."
"Hey, think about it logically. I'm only in there as a filler. Lee Junghyun's more likely to win in the film category. So who does that leave but you?"
Hm.
I shrugged.
"Who knows. You find out when you unwrap the present, don't you?"
"Look at this lazy piece of work. Don't be like that—write your acceptance speech in advance. Don't get up on that stage and shake like a leaf."
"You worry about yourself, hyung."
"Honestly, I try to worry about you and look what I get."
Kim Seokjun muttered under his breath.
I let the rest of his grumbling slide right past me.
"We will now announce the 20XX 67th Arts Awards, Best Actor in Television."
At the MC's words, someone jabbed me in the back repeatedly.
"Hey, you're up soon. Got that speech ready?"
Ha.
He really is a pain.
I silently reached back and took hold of Kim Seokjun's hand.
When I squeezed with all my strength, a pained "Ugh," drifted up from behind me.
The awards broadcast cut to a shot of several people at once.
Junghyun-hyung, Kim Seokjun, me, and the other nominees.
Given that this award was never given to two people in the same year, one of them had already been effectively eliminated.
Junghyun-hyung had already taken Best Actor in the film category, after all.
"Then, the winner is—"
The presenter, having drawn a slip of paper from the envelope, opened his mouth slowly.
"Actor Kim Seokjun, for Killing Horn!"
"Congratulations!"
Confetti burst.
At the same moment, the camera caught Kim Seokjun's jaw hanging wide open.
Image management be damned, his utterly flustered face, mouth agape, was being broadcast live.
Suppressing laughter, I patted his back.
"Congratulations, hyung."
"Huh? Huh?"
"Go on up. You have to accept it."
"M-me? No, you—"
"Hurry."
Perhaps because he'd been so certain the award would be mine, Kim Seokjun kept looking back at me the entire walk to the stage.
Is he going to trip like that... oh no.
He tripped.
The cameras captured Kim Seokjun taking a full tumble on the stairs.
The broadcaster hastily cut away—and by sheer chance, landed on Junghyun-hyung and me.
We were both gritting our teeth, fighting down laughter for all we were worth, and the audience's laughter swelled accordingly.
"Uh, yes, uh... thank, thank you. I... an award like this..."
Having failed to prepare an acceptance speech in advance, Kim Seokjun trembled on stage exactly as his own advice had warned against.
I watched the lost little lamb and smiled.
Cute.
"This is the first time I've ever won something this big, so, uh, thank you, truly. So many people helped me. That, uh, Lee Junghyun sitting at my table—yes. And Bambi, no, Lee Yeonjae."
...What did he just say.
The smile drained from my face fast.
I take back the "cute."
Kim Seokjun rambled a while longer before finally coming down, looking like his soul had left his body entirely.
Even back in his seat, the expression didn't change.
"Hyung, are you okay?"
"Yeah, no? I am not okay."
"Yes. It shows."
Kim Seokjun still wore a dazed look. He stared at the trophy in his hand as if it were a foreign object, then suddenly flinched and turned to me.
"Hey. I'm sorry. This should have been yours."
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"No, really..."
Kim Seokjun stole a glance at me.
Every other category I'd been nominated in had already been announced—which meant I wouldn't be taking anything home tonight.
And honestly, I was fine with that.
A little disappointing, though.
Just as Jinbae-hyung had said, the award itself didn't really matter to me.
Of course I knew the trophy wasn't merely a piece of metal. I knew it stood for the years of effort countless people in this industry had piled up.
And frankly, that was precisely why receiving it had made me uncomfortable.
Someone like Kim Seokjun deserves it more than I do.
So the disappointment I felt right now wasn't from failing to win.
It was from the words I couldn't say.
Well, it's not like I have no other way.
I could always post on the fan café. If anything, that was better—no time limit.
Yes. That was definitely what I'd decided to think.
...What is happening right now.
But not long after, just before the ceremony drew to a close—
I was standing on the stage.
With a trophy clutched in one hand.
"And now, the highlight of the Arts Awards. We will announce the Grand Prize."
The MC's voice rolled through the hall over the speakers.
The second I get home, shower, then boot up the computer.
I was mentally drafting what to post on the fan café.
"The Grand Prize, this year's most glorious winner is—!"
Jinbae-hyung would definitely have something to say about me posting at this hour. So, hm.
All right. Upload it within an hour of getting home.
I was nodding to myself, having settled on the plan, when—
"L,ee, Y,eon,jae! Lee Yeonjae-sshi! Congratulations!"
Out of nowhere, my name was called.
"...?"
"No way, Yeonjae!!"
"Yeah, THIS is right!!"
Junghyun-hyung lunged at me from beside, and Kim Seokjun threw his arms around me too.
I sat there stock-still, both eyes stretched wide.
What in the world...
Feet moving on autopilot, I followed the person guiding the way. Someone shook my hand; someone else hugged me; still, nothing made sense.
The Grand Prize? The Grand Prize?
Me?
It was the only award whose nominees were never announced in advance.
Last year's winner was definitely...
A veteran great who'd taken the honor some thirty years after his debut.
And the next winner is me?
Is that allowed?
The pressure surged up to my chin in an instant.
As the presenter handed me the trophy, my head was shaking before I knew it.
That's not right.
I'm not someone that great.
What do I do?
Clutching the trophy like a man holding a live bomb, I stepped up to the microphone.
"Hello. I'm Lee Yeonjae..."
My dazed expression, my trembling voice, my eyes wandering everywhere.
Convinced that it would all be caught on camera, unfiltered, I tried to pull myself together. I cleared my throat in an effort to at least be polite, but it didn't help much.
Receiving this award at all felt like an act of discourtesy.
"I'm sorry. Me winning an award like this... I'm so grateful, but the apology is bigger. I..."
My head grew dreamlike and hazy. Guilt crept up along the soles of my feet, inch by inch.
"......"
A precarious silence stretched on.
There was so much I'd prepared. So much I truly wanted to say.
But...
I stared blankly down at the trophy.
Of course, I'd received an award at Cannes too. But back then I hadn't understood. What this trophy truly meant.
That to keep the glory this trophy carried, countless people were striving, relentlessly, day after day.
I felt anxious. Restless.
Just as my mouth was about to go dry enough to crack—
the eternal silence was broken by a single shout.
"OUR PPULPPURI IS THE BEST!!"
It was Junghyun-hyung.
Laughter burst through the hall.
Mine included.
At that long-unheard nickname, the corners of my mouth lifted, slowly.
"Yes. Ppulppuri... Ppulppuri won an award. Hon has... come up onto this stage."
That's right.
This wasn't an award I had won.
My head cleared, naturally.
Okay.
After one short, deep breath, I opened my mouth.
From the director of Killing Horn to the writer, the staff, my fellow actors, the agency that had supported me without reserve and Jinbae-hyung, my friends and my fans—expressing my regret that I couldn't name every single one, I said thank you.
And then, at last, I said what I had wanted to say.
"In every relationship, there is a strong one and a weak one. The person who loves the other more is always the weak one. Hon will exist forever under that name—as Dr. Kang Seok's weak one."
I looked forward.
"There are many people living a weak one's day even now. There are many children being subjected to physical violence and psychological abuse... by the very parents they love."
I thought of the child who had trembled in my arms all through the night.
My voice, too, began to shake.
"A child cannot help being the weak one in front of their parents. They say no parent ever loses to their child—but for a small child, there is only their parents. Just as Dr. Kang Seok was all Hon had."
I swallowed.
"I pray, with everything in me, that the day will come when no one holds power over a relationship for the simple reason that a child loves them."
As the words spilled out, I found myself thinking of you without meaning to.
Of you, lying on that mattress beside a corpse.
"For children like Hon, children who need help..."
But he was no longer there.
Hon now wore a crisp, clean suit he had never once been allowed to wear in his lifetime, and received the cheers of thousands.
In this very moment, he stood on this stage.
"...I dedicate this award to him."
Looking forward alongside him, I let the corner of my mouth curve up, quietly.