Whatever It Is, It's Your First Favor

The Division Head's office at KSH Entertainment.

Cha Hyunjin sat there for a long while, the disconnected phone still resting on the desk where he had set it down. Five minutes passed, perhaps a little more.

The phone on the desk. Beside it, a single document. His eyes drifted from the phone to the words printed across the top of the file.

Cha Hyunjin lifted his head and asked a question. Standing there, unmoving the entire time he had been silent, was his aide.

"What the hell is this guy?"

"If you could explain a little more precisely what you mean…"

"He knows who I am?"

A look of puzzlement crossed the aide's face. He was the one who had compiled Lee Jaewook's personal profile — and, going further back, the one who had investigated the man in the first place. He had been summoned again to cross-verify whether this absurd report was even real.

"Sir?"

"Did you get made while you were digging? Someone catch your tail?"

"No. Absolutely not. An aide's personal information isn't even classified. I did meet a few people in person to gather some personal anecdotes, but I never did anything that would get me made."

Cha Hyunjin almost asked You're sure? one more time, then took a look at the man's face and let it go. A question like that was pointless. Even a single round of second-guessing could crack a relationship more easily than people thought. Some relationships could survive a crack. The man standing in front of him, however, had more than enough utility to be worth protecting.

So he asked something else.

"Then how?"

"…?"

The aide's expression registered confusion. Cha Hyunjin paid it no mind. His eyes drifted back to the phone.

"I called him. All I said was that I was Cha Hyunjin from KSH. Fine — he might know me, he might not."

"……"

"But all he said was 'Yes.' Right. Knowing me is the more reasonable assumption, isn't it? He's a former legislative aide. According to the report, an aide whose talent didn't just overflow — it ran off the page. He's been in this industry a few months now, so he might know the names of the people who matter."

The aide still didn't answer. Cha Hyunjin went on as if he had never expected a reply in the first place.

"And then his next answer was a masterpiece. He looks forward to seeing me later?"

Cha Hyunjin's gaze shifted to the aide.

"He knows I shook Nine Entertainment."

"Baek Sungwook never once mentioned our company. And from what I was able to confirm, neither Director Choi Yoona nor General Manager Kim Misook are aware of it either, so that can't possibly…"

Cha Hyunjin raised a hand and cut him off.

He already knew. He knew Baek Sungwook hadn't talked. It wasn't Baek Sungwook's mouth he trusted — it was the man standing in front of him, and that man's information. If Director Choi Yoona or General Manager Kim Misook had known, there would have been some sign, some ripple. There had been nothing.

"You can tell just by listening to him. He didn't even try to hide it, so what's the point of that kind of talk?"

"…I'm sorry. I'll look into whether my investigation left a trail."

"No. For all we know, he already knew when we cut Baek Sungwook loose. I got a little heated, but people from that world — investigating other people is the one thing they do properly. He probably knew early and just sat on it. That's the reasonable conclusion."

"I'll still run one more check."

"No. It doesn't matter. That's enough."

At Division Head Cha Hyunjin's dismissal, the aide answered with a slight bow. A faint smile touched Cha Hyunjin's face.

"People from our side cross over to become legislative aides sometimes, don't they? You know — these days there are cases of that, all in the name of image-making."

"Yes. Recently there was a case of a director from TJ moving over to become an aide. And if you go further back, Kang Sungjin — a former entertainment reporter who became an aide to proportional-representation Assemblyman Yoon Hongmin — isn't an exact match, but he's a representative example of someone crossing over from the industry."

"That direction has a clear justification. And a clear reason they were recruited from the other side."

It was as Division Head Cha Hyunjin said. Cases of people leaving the entertainment industry to become legislative aides were more common than one might think. Image-making was one of the things entertainment people did best. Staging, too. Viral marketing, the same. Politicians who needed those skills sent out their love calls — and the people who received them headed for the political world, whether for a rise in social standing or because they wanted to try politics themselves.

Cha Hyunjin narrowed one eye.

"Then the reverse… what was he drawn by? No. Let me ask that again. What would draw him? This friend of ours?"

The moment the description of Lee Jaewook climbed from this guy to this friend, the aide had no trouble reading Cha Hyunjin's real meaning.

"I'll look into it."

"Good. You can go."

The aide turned toward the door, thinking to himself.

It was a vicious obsession.

No. At that level, it's a disease.

If Cha Hyunjin took a liking to something, he had to have it. Not like a child throwing a tantrum — he would invest the time, put in the work, and he would not be satisfied until it was in his hands. Perhaps it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was that near-compulsive obsession that had made Cha Hyunjin who he was.

As the aide closed the door, the last thing his eyes caught was Division Head Cha Hyunjin's face — a man smacking his lips, appetite thoroughly whetted.

The next morning. The Nine Entertainment office.

I took another phone call.

"That wasn't one drink."

I gave a slight shake of my head. I didn't understand. I had never lived like a single-celled organism, and I was having more and more trouble mapping how these people's brains actually worked. Or perhaps I did understand, and simply didn't want to.

"Actor Bong Tae-soo became just 'Tae-soo' in that short a time."

I wanted to say it wasn't somehow — you grabbed him by the collar and forced him onto a first-name basis — but I held my tongue. I asked something else instead.

"Did you call to brag about becoming friends with actor Bong Tae-soo?"

"Divide the actors?"

I didn't misread Team Leader Park Munsu. I had felt it in my bones by now — this man was leaning on me more than I had expected.

If you stripped away the fact that I used to be a legislative aide, I was not yet someone worth trusting. Least of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all when it came to reading scripts; that ability hadn't been proven at all. And yet, wherever he had gotten it from, once he decided to believe, he never looked back.

The successful result of that was Ki Seongchan and Kind Police. The unsuccessful result was yesterday. He hadn't even asked twice. He had simply taken my word for it and blurted out, on the spot, that the thing was going to flop.

"Let's do that. Please set a meeting date that includes General Manager Kim and Director Choi as well, and let me know."

And then, in a smaller voice — or perhaps he had just taken the phone away from his face; it sounded farther off — he said this:

He seemed to be about to say something to me after that, but it didn't sound important, so I hung up on him. And as usual, the Ghost had a question.

"You hung up like that because it's something Team Leader Park Munsu hates too?"

I checked that no one was nearby, then answered quietly.

"No. It's not that. He seems to be using his head less and less, so I did it on purpose — to let him know."

"Ah. That's fair. Lately it's been feeling like he just wears the thing as a decoration."

The Ghost wasn't wrong. I had already been getting the sense that Team Leader Park Munsu had started thinking less, and yesterday had been the decisive proof. If you don't use it, it rusts. So I intended to keep turning the gears for him, whether he liked it or not.

I headed to the break room for a cup of coffee and found Manager Kim Nakyung and Assistant Manager Kwak Eunji already settled in. They offered me a light nod.

And then…

"Ohh. This is nice. It smells like people."

"Pardon?"

I turned from the coffee machine to look at Manager Kim Nakyung. Her eyes were shining.

"I like it. Team Leader Lee."

"…Pardon?"

"I said I like it. Ohh, I like it so much. How did I not realize you were this wonderful?"

"…?"

That made two of us. I had no idea why she was like this either. There was a saying for it, wasn't there? Stay near ink and you turn black; stay near cinnabar and you turn red.

Back when I was an aide, the people under me had all been sharp. They hadn't quite met my standards, and I had put them through a stretch of brutal training for it, but the baseline had been there. The people on this side of the industry, though, were something else entirely. I pressed the button on the coffee machine, entertaining the faintly terrifying thought that I might end up stained by them.

"Ohh. And you drink coffee so well."

"……"

"And you're good at cleaning."

"……"

"And you even called the police to the office."

Why did the coffee grinder's whiiir feel so unbearably slow? I was on the verge of just walking out when Manager Kim Nakyung added one more.

"And you treated us to a collar-grab. Is there anything Team Leader Lee can't do?"

"A… collar-grab?"

I turned with a face that asked what on earth that was supposed to mean, and Manager Kim Nakyung beamed at me, all sunshine.

"A. Col.lar. Grab. Ohh. I haven't been that happy in so long. Yesterday was amazing."

"…Ah. Yes."

This was difficult. The pattern was too different from the people I used to deal with. I had no idea how to respond.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

I left that question behind me. The moment the stream of coffee broke into drips, I grabbed the cup and fled. Even so, Manager Kim Nakyung opened the break room door and called after me, relentless.

"You don't, right? That's not the daily routine of someone who's dating. Am I right?"

"……"

"For the record, I'm a married woman, so don't worry. No girlfriend it is, then."

I pretended not to hear, walked out of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠office with the coffee cup in my hand.

The absolute volume of work had clearly dropped compared to my days as an aide. Somehow, my mind was more exhausted.

The Ghost kept going on about MBTI this and MBTI that, and there was one thing I had come to feel in my bones. I was a capital T. The people at this company were Fs.

The Ghost opened his mouth again, needling.

"The T has to adapt. Fs don't change, you know."

"If F stood for False, or foolish, you'd have a point."

"Anyway, where are you headed?"

I was about to answer the Ghost while waiting for the elevator when—

Ding.

The doors opened, and Director Choi Yoona appeared.

And then.

"I was just about to come find you. Perfect timing."

"?"

"Get in."

"Do you drive yourself?"

I realized, too late, that a rotten joke had slipped out, and I immediately regretted it. This was all the Fs' fault. I needed to get a grip. I pretended not to see Director Choi Yoona's brow furrow, and stepped into the elevator.

Then Director Choi Yoona opened her mouth like M delivering a mission in a Bond film.

"There's something I need you to do."

"Yes."

"To be honest… I'm asking you for a favor."

"Understood."

"Wouldn't it be better to hear what it is first before you decide?"

When the elevator reached the parking garage, Choi Yoona spoke again. She pulled a small booklet from her bag — the pages worn soft with handling — and held it out to me.

"This is a synopsis I received a long time ago. From Director Kim Taewoo."

The Ghost flinched. I kept my attention on Director Choi Yoona for now. Her mouth kept moving.