I'm Having Fun These Days
Behind the parking lot at Nine Entertainment, Kang Sangrok flicked on his phone for no particular reason, just to check the time.
There was still a little time to spare, but Kim Hyunjun's gym hour was closing in. Actors usually handled that kind of thing on their own, but following Team Leader Baek Sungwook's instructions, Kang Sangrok was managing every last detail himself — molding the actor into a helpless child who couldn't function without him.
A flicker of impatience made him spit the irritation out loud.
"The hell is this bastard? What time is it already and he's still not here?"
That was when a black Carnival van swinging toward the parking entrance caught Kang Sangrok's eye.
"Oh, there you are. You're late, huh? You're dead."
This kind of thing was about establishing dominance from the jump. Under Korean skies, having competed in elite sports meant you were more fluent than anyone in the culture of discipline and putting juniors in their place. Even if... a national team reserve squad was as high as he'd climbed. Still, he'd been an athlete through university. That counted.
The van disappeared into the underground garage. About three minutes later, by his count, Lee Jaewook came walking over at a steady, unhurried pace.
Definitely a nerd.
Kang Sangrok scanned him in a single sweep. They'd crossed paths in the office in passing, but this was the first time they were face to face.
Pale face. He's got some height on him, but that's not an athlete's body. Good enough.
Kang Sangrok pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and exhaled a long, cinematic stream of smoke, like a scene from a movie. He rolled his shoulders back, and his already massive frame seemed to swell even larger.
"You're not gonna run?"
He ran.
A smile flickered across Kang Sangrok's mouth, then vanished just as fast.
Scary face.
That's right. He should run. Dominance established. This was technique. He'd lived through it countless times in his athletic days. Seniors always waited, and when they spotted juniors coming from a distance, they yelled at them to run. The moment you started running because someone told you to, the tension locked in whether you liked it or not.
And Kang Sangrok said the same thing his seniors had said to him — the same thing he'd barked at his own juniors once he'd become a senior himself.
"Why are you so late? I told you to come right away."
"I never made an appointment with you."
"...What?"
"Time, place. You didn't mention either, did you? And even setting that aside — I dropped Actor Ha off after the shoot, returned the car, and came straight here. Am I late?"
Kang Sangrok, who'd been putting on a menacing face for no reason at all, swallowed hard. Come to think of it, that was true. He hadn't specified a time. And the new hire standing in front of him had just pointed that out with surgical precision. No fear on his face. No tension, either.
"Still, it looks like you've been waiting, so I'll give you some of my time."
"...Huh? You'll give me... time?"
"If you have something to say, please say it. I have a prior engagement, so I can't spare much. If this conversation looks like it might run long, we can schedule a proper appointment later."
What the hell is this guy? Why is he so logical?
He didn't seem rattled in the slightest. That sent a surge of heat straight through Kang Sangrok.
"Hey! No, seriously, what the fuck! I was trying to be nice because you're older! A manager who can't even take care of the actor he's supposed to, and instead he's off cleaning...!"
What?
Why did he just stick his palm out?
He was so calm I thought he was about to fire off some kind of ki blast, this crazy bastard.
"Excuse me for a moment. Sorry to interrupt. I have a call coming in — it's a prior engagement, so I'll need to take this."
"...No... look, as your senior, I'm currently..."
"Yes. This is Lee Jaewook."
"......"
"No. I'll come out. There's a senior from my new company who says he has something to discuss... No, Assemblyman. It won't take that long. I'll come out..."
Assemblyman?
Wait — a doctor? This wasn't the Joseon era. Did anyone even call physicians that anymore?
Did this shut-in watch some historical drama? Or is it an actual National Assembly member? Crazy. Pathological liar?
In the dim alley behind the building, Kang Sangrok hesitated for a brief moment.
Should I just hit this guy? He's pissing me off so much.
Then, in the distance, a black sedan looked like it was about to pass in front of them... except it stopped. The rear window rolled down.
A distinguished-looking middle-aged man gazed at the new manager with fond, almost wistful eyes.
...What the hell is this?
I looked at Assemblyman Choi Giseok watching me from the back seat, then turned my gaze toward Manager Kang Sangrok. He looked dazed, like he had no idea what on earth was going on.
Not particularly. I'd already gotten the job. Whether they found out I'd been an aide or not, honestly, I didn't care. Inflating a resume is a crime. Downplaying one isn't. I hadn't hidden a criminal record, either.
There was case law on this. If you omit something from your resume, and that item clearly wasn't a disqualifying factor for employment, it cannot be grounds for dismissal.
Still, I hadn't expected to get caught this blatantly.
Honestly, I'd thought it was over when I told him no. After that, no time or place was specified, so I figured that was the end of it. This is why I'm weak against this type. They fall outside my range of prediction. Not above it — below it.
"Manager Kang Sangrok?"
"...Ah, yes?"
"This shouldn't take long. Would you like to wait? If you have other business, feel free to go ahead."
"Ah... yes, well. I'll wait... hahh..."
Why did he look so stunned? A minute ago he'd been an agitated gorilla. I wondered if he recognized the Assemblyman's face, but that didn't seem to be it. Choi Giseok was mentioned as a potential presidential candidate, but not everyone would know him.
After asking Manager Kang Sangrok to wait —
Click—.
I climbed into the back seat. The old man immediately started groaning for no reason.
"I really wasn't going to come..."
"Have you been well? Secretary Jubong, Aide Yoon Myeongtae as well?"
I dipped my head slightly to greet the people in the driver's and passenger seats, and Assemblyman Choi Giseok's groaning continued.
"I really wasn't going to come..."
"That's right. Aide Lee. I'm the one who said we should come. Me. The Assemblyman said we shouldn't put any more burden on our Aide Lee who's living a new life, you know? He really went on about it. But this is something we couldn't figure out with our own heads."
Aide Yoon Myeongtae cut in. Normally this kind of behavior would be a mistake. But judging by the atmosphere... they'd clearly coordinated this. Yoon Myeongtae wasn't the heaviest presence in the room, but he was a man who had his fundamentals down. He wasn't the type to interrupt Assemblyman Choi Giseok without prior agreement.
"You could have just asked over the phone. Why come all this way? And what kind of greeting is 'have you been eating properly'..."
"......"
At my words, Assemblyman Choi Giseok blew a puff of breath onto the window and started doodling on it with his finger. Once again, Aide Yoon Myeongtae answered.
"He came because he missed you. And... to check if maybe you'd changed your mind."
Knowing that was Assemblyman Choi Giseok's true feeling, I spoke to him directly.
"I'm genuinely afraid someone might see this. Please don't doodle on the window. You're not a child — how many times have I told you? Carry yourself with weight. With gravity. Be a little more substantial."
"...You've been well?"
"It's been a month and not quite two weeks. Anyone watching would think we hadn't seen each other in years. And yes, I've been eating properly. More comfortably than when I was an aide."
"Why have you been eating properly?"
"Pardon?"
"I was hoping you weren't doing well."
"......"
"No. You should be doing well... of course you should, our Jaewook..."
There was another one here who couldn't make up his mind. People, honestly. I'd told them over and over to act more rationally. Why did they always let their emotions run ahead?
I didn't ask what the unsolved problem was. I offered the answer first. The question was too obvious.
"Just give him the party leadership. Why force it away from someone who's holding on? You'll only exhaust each other."
Assemblyman Choi Giseok flinched, and Aide Yoon Myeongtae started to form a rebuttal, so I continued quickly.
"The board has already tilted, so if you wanted to take it, you could. But that would become the catalyst that actually consolidates Assemblyman Moon Yong-gap's faction. Taking the party leadership would be fine, but..."
I let the words hang for a moment. Assemblyman Moon Yong-gap was holding on. When he'd won in Jongno, this hadn't even been a move I'd considered. There was nothing to gain by holding out. But if he stepped down, he only lost. That was probably why he was staying put as party leader — to scheme from behind.
If I were still at his side, taking the party leadership by force would be better. Secure it first, then cut off every flailing limb. It would take some time, and the internal noise could be managed by redirecting media attention...
But in a situation where I wasn't there, the most stable operation possible was what mattered.
"Give it to him. Hand over the party leadership and take only the Floor Leader position, and you'll be holding all the cards."
"All the cards?"
"The general election, local elections, presidential election — they're all a long way off. In this situation, a party leader doesn't have much to do. A face without real power. Perfect for dumping the blame and building your faction. You get to polish your image, too."
A powerless Floor Leader becomes a rubber stamp for the party leader. But a Floor Leader with real power can drive the actual operations of the National Assembly. There's nothing better for consolidating your supporters, either. Ruling party or opposition, the hardcore base absolutely hates infighting.
"If you come back..."
I opened the car door, one foot already out, and glanced at Aide Yoon Myeongtae.
"At the Assembly opening ceremony, keep it as clean as possible. Unlike the other members, please maintain a gentlemanly image. You know that doesn't mean wearing anything too nice, right?"
"Got it. I'll keep that in mind."
"Come ba—"
Assemblyman Choi Giseok's lips were already forming the words behind Yoon Myeongtae's reply, so I shut the door quickly. It wasn't as if I were leaving for good. I'd go back when the time came, so why did he keep... people really never change.
When I got out of the car, Manager Kang Sangrok had his hands folded politely in front of him, looking at me with the world's most innocent face.
"Um, hyung-nim... the person in the car... he wasn't... casting actors, was he?"
"Casting actors?"
"Well... who am I to think I could fool you like that..."
Kang Sangrok fidgeted, his eyes darting around, then tentatively opened his mouth.
"The work you used to do... it wasn't... games, was it?"
This kid had figured it out. Well. Even a gorilla would have caught on at this point.
I sat down on the sofa at home, and the Ghost tossed the question my way.
"He can or he can't. It doesn't matter to me."
It's a mistake to act as if you can control what comes out of people's mouths. So I'd simply said that. I used to be an aide. That's exactly what it was. He could tell other people. Do as he liked.
Kang Sangrok had simply answered that way on his own.
It was a little strange that I hadn't even asked, but that didn't matter either. It's a problem if you think you can control every variable and produce the exact result you want. And honestly...
"I already got the job. What's the issue?"
"No. That doesn't matter to me. Being thought of as a gaming shut-in was a bit much, I'll admit. But if I do well, people will evaluate me by the results even if they think I was a gaming shut-in. And if I do poorly, they'll evaluate me by the results even if I was a former aide."
That's how resumes work. You look at them to raise the probability of hiring someone who might do well. They can't become some kind of halo effect that serves as the actual measure of evaluation.
I got up from the sofa and started rummaging through a box I'd placed in the middle of the living room.
"What are you doing? Hurry up and put that specialty of yours to use."
"Right. You said you spent the whole time in the hospital watching nothing but dramas and movies."
The Ghost, who for three years had done nothing but stare at televisions other people had left on as he wandered the hospital, spread open a synopsis with me.
Wearing a serious expression I'd never seen on him before.