A Perfect... Work

To cut to the chase: I got my hands on the materials for Blue Moon, Red Star.

I was waiting at the entrance without even taking off my shoes when Lee Yujeong held out a thick stack of booklets.

"This is a talisman, by the way."

"A Gyeon Seongcheol-repelling charm?"

Lee Yujeong snorted out a laugh at that.

"If she doesn't see it, he'll use 'I brought it again' as an excuse to show up, and show up, and show up. That's why I told her not to throw it away. Eun-yul didn't even glance at it, though."

"Thanks."

"Eun-yul really didn't look at it."

I had a pretty good idea what she was worried about, but that wasn't why I'd asked for the script. Still, explaining that would make the whole picture look strange, so I was about to turn and leave when—

"Um... Team Leader, would you like to stay for some jjajangmyeon?"

Ha Eun-yul, who'd changed into comfortable clothes, peeked out and asked. An oversized, boxy T-shirt. Makeup wiped clean. Baggy sweatpants. Looking at her like this, she could pass for an ordinary student. When I'd compared Director Choi Yoona and Ha Eun-yul, I'd thought Choi Yoona looked younger. Maybe not.

"Jjajangmyeon?"

"Yes."

"Don't you need to watch your diet?"

When I asked Ha Eun-yul in my usual tone, Lee Yujeong scrunched her eyes and gave a little shake of her head. Why?

"Ah... yes... diet control..."

"Yes. You're still shooting a drama. Of course one bowl of jjajangmyeon isn't going to change much, but consistency is what matters in management. If you eat it today because it's fine, next time you'll compromise a little more easily..."

Lee Yujeong kept shooting me looks, so I stopped. Then I checked Ha Eun-yul's face — she wasn't even trying to hide how dejected she looked.

Did I mess up? But usually Lee Yujeong was way stricter about this kind of thing. She'd always been the one to crack down first, to the point I never even needed to mention diet control. So why the sudden change today? Was she giving me that how dare you not let our kid eat jjajangmyeon look?

Ha Eun-yul bowed with a thoroughly wilted expression and disappeared inside, and Lee Yujeong turned to me.

"So... Team Leader. You get told you lack human warmth a lot, don't you?"

"To some extent?"

"This afternoon you were overflowing with love for humanity, and now you're a robot again... I really can't figure you out..."

"I've heard that one even more often."

Lee Yujeong let out a long sigh at my answer.

"Just order the jjajangmyeon. Three bowls. Sweet and sour pork too. Open the app and search Bonghwaru. That's the best one."

"Weren't you the one who always stopped her from eating this?"

Lee Yujeong shuddered like she was having a fit.

"Just— shut... up...! Order the jjajangmyeon, pleaseee...! Eun-yul said she's happy today. So she wants jjajangmyeon, okay? She wants to eat it with you, Team Leader. Can't she do whatever she wants for one day? Right? You were the one who took care of her earlier, so why are you like this now? Are you a different person from this afternoon?"

Hmm. This was something. I was glad the distance between Lee Yujeong and me had shrunk, but I was also getting the feeling I was being steamrolled. Still, I didn't argue. I opened the delivery app.

"Taeseonggak over Bonghwaru."

"What?"

"I said Taeseonggak is better than Bonghwaru."

A tiny bit of resistance. Lightly crushed.

"Just order already."

With those words.

Actresses eat jjajangmyeon too. It's not like I had some fantasy or sacred image of actresses, but it was still a little fascinating.

The public probably had similar imaginings about National Assembly members. The Old Man's supporters had no idea how many times Assemblyman Choi Giseok farted in a day. Or that he always belched after meals — something about how, at his age, if he didn't, he'd feel bloated all day. Taken in isolation, the behavior was pretty gross, but I never minded it. Not that I... inhaled it with joy or anything. Nothing like that.

It made him feel human. If someone went around farting everywhere, you'd have serious questions about their character and hygiene. But he only did it around me and Uncle Jubong. Which meant the distance between Assemblyman Choi Giseok and me was that small.

I spoke calmly to the actress who was eating her jjajangmyeon in the most human way possible.

"You eat like a squirrel."

"Uwah...!"

Ha Eun-yul's face flushed bright red. Looks like she'd decided not to wear the mask today. With her makeup wiped clean, the change in her skin tone was vivid. Even so, both cheeks were puffed out, and she could neither chew nor spit.

I'd been watching her the whole time — her eating style was completely different from usual. Normally she ate with such elegance. If I had to put it into words... the princess type? But today she was a squirrel, plain and simple. This must have been the real her. She'd stuffed her mouth full and was chewing and chewing for a long time. Though right now she'd paused, eyes drooping.

"Do you always eat like that?"

"I'm thorry..."

"No, I'm not scolding you..."

Someone kicked my leg under the table. Lee Yujeong. She was frowning hard again, shaking her head. Then, without even moving her lips, she spat the words out in a tiny mutter.

"Then hush a bit... she's gonna choke..."

"I said it because I liked it. Seeing a new side of her. I hope there's no misunderstanding."

Ha Eun-yul glanced at me once, then started working her mouth, still packed with jjajangmyeon. No matter how many times I looked, it was fascinating. How did that much noodle even fit in that small mouth? And did she really need to eat it that way? It wasn't bad at all. It even felt like I was finally seeing a piece of her true self.

The Ghost, settled at one end of the table, gazed at Ha Eun-yul with a father's fond smile.

"......"

That's right. She's cute. Celebrities have all kinds of talents, but for an actor, appearance takes up a huge share of that talent. When someone who's pretty even sitting still does something you've never seen from her before — of course it's cute.

I tossed the question out casually.

"Why did you want ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠jjajangmyeon?"

"Huh?"

"You can answer after you finish eating."

"Okay."

At that, Ha Eun-yul worked her mouth nonstop for a good while before answering.

"Pwah!"

"......"

"I just suddenly wanted it. Maybe because Chaeyoon unnie saved me as Ha-Jjajang, and it stuck in my head."

"Ha-Jjajang?"

"Yes."

I'd expected something ordinary — a happy childhood memory involving jjajangmyeon, maybe, or that it was her favorite food in the world. Completely unexpected answer.

"Why did she save you as Ha-Jjajang?"

"I don't know. I asked, but she wouldn't tell me."

It was the Ghost who answered why it was Ha-Jjajang.

I glanced at the Ghost without making it obvious. He continued with a bitter expression.

I couldn't answer anyway, and I had nothing to say, so I popped a piece of sweet and sour pork into my mouth.

I don't think that's it. She probably remembered it because she liked it — the sight of a little sister she was fond of spreading her wings. At least, the Shin Chaeyoon I'd seen today was that kind of person.

After that, we ate our jjajangmyeon without much conversation. With sweet and sour pork on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the side.

I gathered the booklets related to Blue Moon, Red Star and headed for the door, and Ha Eun-yul bowed.

"Please go carefully... Manager."

Today was quite something new. Looks like Shin Chaeyoon had boosted Ha Eun-yul's self-esteem quite a bit. Taking off the mask takes that much courage.

I turned my back on Ha Eun-yul, who was staring at me.

"Wipe your mouth. You got it all over your face like a kid."

"Ah...!"

"Still better than picking at it. See you tomorrow."

"Drive... carefully."

Hmm. I didn't drive. The elevator is automatic, after all.

Without driving, on two feet, I arrived home in a little under five minutes. The Ghost and I opened the booklets right away. And then... another thirty minutes or so passed?

Having gone through every document, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ghost spoke as if delivering a verdict.

"That good?"

Having a good head and having an eye for scripts are two different things. Sure, because I'm smart I can follow the points the Ghost flags pretty quickly. But I'm nowhere near his level of discernment. So I was thinking, is this work really that good? — when the Ghost continued.

"That doesn't sound perfect."

I looked at the Ghost. Our eyes met, and his expression turned grave.

"......"

Trouble...? Hmm. For us, this isn't trouble. It's actually a good thing.

Wait. Something flashed through my mind.

"If it's a monstrosity, that means it's going to be a flop, right? So why is this even being produced?"

I had no choice but to ask a question this fundamental, this basic. The Ghost claims his eye for scripts is exceptional, and I more or less agree. But if he's right, that means every single person producing this work has terrible taste?

The Ghost, who'd appointed himself the star lecturer of script analysis, answered in a serious tone.

"Hmm."

"......"

As I sank into thought, the Ghost added with conviction.

It wasn't that I didn't trust what the Ghost was saying. I fully understood why they'd gone into production. If every drama in the world were perfectly vetted at the script stage, flops would never see the light of day.

But still.

"You're not the only one who can analyze it to this degree, right?"

"But?"

I immediately called Detective Park Daesu. There was something I needed to confirm.