Have You Eaten?

He looked ridiculous, there was no denying that.

But that was a separate matter from the expression on the Ghost's face, which was... not good. Not good at all.

The Ghost had pulled himself out of the car, and about a minute passed. Maybe even less—a matter of seconds.

Lee Yujeong climbed out right after. Which meant the Ghost hadn't relayed a word of it yet.

"I'm sorry, Assistant Manager Lee. Eun-yul isn't feeling well..."

"It's fine."

Lee Yujeong glanced at my face, then rose onto her tiptoes and whispered.

"Um... this is really embarrassing, but could I... ask you for a candy?"

"Ask me?"

I echoed it back. Lee Yujeong and I didn't usually talk much, though we'd spoken more today than we ever had. Even so, the phrasing didn't add up. If she wanted candy, she could just ask for candy. Why ask...?

Ah.

I glanced toward the parked car, and Lee Yujeong whispered again.

"Um... yeah. That."

"That's not a difficult first favor."

"..."

Lee Yujeong was extremely wary of me, but it wasn't simply that she didn't trust me. I understood that much.

She just wants to look after her.

It overlapped with something I'd seen at the orphanage—the older kids, barely older themselves, who had taken it upon themselves to protect the younger ones. I walked toward Ha Eun-yul, a piece of candy already in my hand.

"..."

"What is it?"

Ah. The one who'd asked that wasn't Ha Eun-yul. It was me.

"I figured you were going to say that, and when you didn't, I said it for you."

Ha Eun-yul fidgeted at that, then slipped straight back into the cool, composed performance of Ha Eun-yul. Another day, another failure to cross the boundary of trust.

"Candy."

"..."

"Please take it."

"..."

She still didn't answer, but her hand rose slowly. I met it halfway, a little faster than she was moving.

Ha Eun-yul took the candy and started to unwrap it, then stopped. She looked at me again. And for a moment, she paused the cold performance she'd been about to resume.

Probably.

"Assistant Manager Lee Jaewook... you seem like a good person."

"So do you, Actress Ha Eun-yul."

"...The company came up with some weird titles. Assistant Manager, Actress, all that..."

Today was turning out to be a strange day. This might have been the longest conversation I'd ever had with Coordinator Lee Yujeong. And I was setting a new record with Ha Eun-yul, too.

Short, if you wanted to call it that. Ridiculously short. But everything was relative.

"It's a matter of respect, I would think. Once titles start to slip, respect tends to follow. Ultimately one side just ends up saying 'hey.' Usually."

"That's the first time I've ever heard a real person say 'ultimately' out loud."

"People use it more than you'd think. There's even a singer with that in his name."

"...You sound like an old man."

And with that, our record-breaking conversation came to an end. Ha Eun-yul headed toward the set with the candy in her mouth.

Still, she seemed a little less tense. The conversation she'd had with Lee Yujeong inside the car was probably the main reason—but I hoped our brief exchange had helped too.

I watched Lee Yujeong follow after her, then turned my gaze to the Ghost. He opened his mouth as if he'd been waiting for exactly that.

"Eun-yul's father... I think he's asking her for money."

"I'll keep listening for now."

The Ghost let out a long sigh, the kind you let out when you're about to unburden yourself of a genuine secret.

"Eun-yul... not long after I cast her, her parents got divorced."

"I see."

"...Wait. You already knew? No... that can't be. There's no way you could know that. Back then I was still around, and so was CEO Choi—we killed every article before it could run. And Eun-yul wasn't even that well-known yet."

"I was aware."

"How?"

The Ghost looked rattled. I answered with the same unshaken calm.

"When you serve someone... or in this case, when you look after them. You ought to know at least that much about the actor in your care. It wasn't particularly difficult."

We were together twenty-four hours a day, but that didn't mean we monitored each other around the clock. The Ghost came and went freely within a certain range. And for a ghost, of all things, he slept. Not because he got tired, he'd said—more like a habit. A feeling that arrived, apparently, of I should sleep around now.

That was when I'd found out. I hadn't timed it to hide anything from him. It had just... happened, naturally.

"It's not important."

At that, the Ghost snapped back to the matter at hand.

"Ah, right. But... people really are terrifying. I don't remember Eun-yul's father being that kind of man. I met him a few times. I don't know what happened in the meantime to change him that much..."

"..."

"Even after her parents divorced and ‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cut all ties with each other... they were good to Eun-yul. But from what I overheard of her conversation with Yujeong, it sounds like he hasn't contacted her at all for the past few years."

This was a time for listening. Around us, crew members who'd been taking a break were getting to their feet one by one and heading back to set. I simply stood there, still as a tree.

"Eun-yul's father runs a small business. Or he did, at least. I don't know if he still does."

Not yet. Information had to be received as nothing more than information. Even with your eyes open and your ears open, the moment something passed through a person's mouth it was distorted, omitted, even added to. Instead of answering, I gave a small nod—just enough to signal that I was listening. I didn't open my mouth.

"Five hundred million won... that's a huge amount of money. Apparently the business is on shaky ground right now... which I guess means he's still running it. Ah, damn it, even so. Asking your own daughter for five hundred million when she's only twenty-three... Eun-yul wouldn't even have that kind of money..."

Now, the questions.

"Has Actress Ha Eun-yul not earned that much so far?"

"Taxes, the agency's settlement fees—you have to peel off the house's cut, you know. And when she was still a student the guarantees were small, the roles were small... Still, she's shot two commercials, and her current guarantee is, well..."

"So it's tight. Even if she hasn't spent much and saved everything, it'd be a stretch. Or not enough."

"It won't be enough. The company provides housing, but living expenses come out of Eun-yul's own pocket. Celebrities all look rich, but they're really not. You hit a jackpot once you get famous—it doesn't climb in a straight line with your career."

"Did her father contact her directly?"

"No. I think he went through Sungwook. And it looks like Eun-yul has both her parents blocked."

"So Team Leader Baek Sungwook is playing middleman."

"Yes."

A single, unpleasant possibility surfaced in my mind.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Behind the parking garage of the building that housed Nine Entertainment, Team Leader Baek Sungwook lit a cigarette the way he always did.

"Nnngh...! Ugh, I'm exhausted...!"

He stretched with the cigarette still in his mouth, and his joints cracked in a satisfying string of pops. Baek Sungwook patted his own shoulder for no particular reason and let out a long-suffering groan.

"Aigoo... it's not like they're snot-nosed kids, but looking after them is no joke, I tell you."

"...Yes. That's true."

Something about Kang Sangrok's answer felt off. Baek Sungwook's head tilted sideways.

"Hey. Kang Sangrok. Something going on with you?"

"No, sir."

"Come on, something's up. Spit it out. This hyung'll hear you out first and give you some life advice."

Kang Sangrok stared straight ahead, taking a slow drag, then glanced over at Baek Sungwook.

"Go on. Talk. What is it? A problem?"

"...It's nothing."

"Don't tell me you got into some kind of trouble?"

"I really didn't. Nothing happened."

Baek Sungwook leaned in until his face was close to Kang Sangrok's. Kang Sangrok had the far bigger frame, but he was a softie at heart. Not with just anyone—with his seniors, he was a blade, sharp and obedient.

Every damn kid in this country should be put on a sports team. Look at Sangrok. Kid's so well-behaved.

Baek Sungwook chuckled inwardly and clapped Kang Sangrok on the back.

"Whatever it is, if you can't handle it alone, or if you need help, you tell me."

"Yes. Understood."

"And that Lee Jaewook. Did you take care of him or what? How come I haven't gotten any feedback?"

"Ah... well."

"That bad, huh?"

"Sorry?"

Kang Sangrok looked at him, and Baek Sungwook let out a short laugh.

"You went too hard on him, didn't you? Don't tell me you hit him?"

"No. No, no."

"Then we're fine. It's not like he's a kid. What's he gonna do, call the cops because he got chewed out?"

Of course... the look Kang Sangrok was giving Baek Sungwook came from a very different place.

Take care of him?

And then he'd run into a man who seemed like he sat somewhere very, very high up. And he actually had.

A National Assembly member, no less. The kind of level where people talked about him as a next presidential candidate.

And he'd learned what Lee Jaewook really was, too. A National Assembly member was so far above him it barely felt real—he'd only glimpsed the man in passing, after all. But an aide felt strangely tangible. Which made him even more frightening.

Is it because I keep looking at him...?

Kang Sangrok stole a glance at Baek Sungwook, careful not to let it show, and blew out a stream of smoke. Until recently, Team Leader Baek Sungwook had been the sky itself. Now he just felt like a coworker.

It was a specific kind of feeling. Once you'd met a real tiger, you realized the thing you'd thought was a tiger was just a dog.

That was probably why he'd asked the next question in a lighter mood than usual.

Like this.

"Hey, hyung-nim."

"Hm?"

"Cheol-sik. Have you been in touch with him?"

Baek Sungwook's face hardened for a fraction of a second, but Kang Sangrok was not the kind of man who would catch a change that brief.

"No? Why the hell are you asking about him all of a sudden?"

"No reason. You two were really close."

Baek Sungwook spat on the ground.

"Please. I just looked out for the kid. He was thick as a brick, you know? Ugh, and that bastard goes and stabs the company in the back without a shred of gratitude. What's he trying to be, pulling that? What's he even doing now? You wouldn't know, would you?"

"I wouldn't. He just went dark all of a sudden. And that guy was a coward. A real one."

"...You can't judge a person from the outside."

Baek Sungwook stubbed out his cigarette first and started walking.

‍‍‌‌⁠⁠‌‍‍‌⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Finish yours and come in. I'm heading up."

"Yes, sir."

Kang Sangrok watched his back recede.

"Was Team Leader Baek Sungwook always like that?"

Once the scales fell from his eyes, the man looked cheap. Even if Moon Cheol-sik had stabbed them in the back, they'd eaten from the same pot. Maybe it was because Kang Sangrok had grown up in team life—he felt a flicker of sympathy for Moon Cheol-sik that he couldn't quite shake.