She'll Say Okay
In front of Travel Entertainment.
Kang Sangrok tipped his head back and looked up.
Objectively speaking, was it something to gasp over? Not quite. When most people pictured an entertainment company, they thought of the massive publicly listed giants — and those were almost always the agencies that specialized in singers. Actor-focused shops, no matter how big they grew, could barely reach the ankles of companies like that. There was no reason to be that large, and no need. Travel Entertainment was no exception.
And yet a sound of genuine admiration slipped out of Kang Sangrok's mouth.
"Whoa... nice. Real nice."
The fact that a single company occupied an entire three-story building — pint-sized though it was — hit him square in the chest. People said Nine Entertainment had once been far bigger than this, but Kang Sangrok, like Assistant Manager Kwak Eunji, belonged to the generation that had never seen Nine Ent's golden age. A company that couldn't even fill a single floor properly, even in a larger building: that was the only Nine Entertainment he knew.
"I'm jealous. Think I'll ever get to work somewhere like this?"
His gaze dropped from around the third floor to the documents tucked under his arm.
"Hyung-nim. Leave it to me."
The documents Team Leader Lee Jaewook had handed him. Although "handed him" was, strictly speaking, a stretch.
"Where are you going, hyung-nim!"
"Team Leader."
"Yes, sir! Where are you going, Team Leader!"
"..."
"But Team Leader — didn't you have a night shoot yesterday?!"
"Is that really something to react to like that?"
Kang Sangrok's answer then was the same as his answer now. It would be the same no matter when you asked him.
"Of course it is! You can't be running on empty! A man destined for great things...! It's because of this, isn't it?!"
And with that, he had snatched the documents out of Jaewook's hands and brought them here. He had no idea what they were, but they seemed to be the reason hyung-nim wasn't getting any sleep, so he had taken them upon himself. Team Leader Lee Jaewook had put it like this:
"...If you're going to insist, then just deliver this to the CEO of Travel Entertainment. Do not open the sealed documents. You have to hand them over in person. I'll trust you this once."
"Thank you!"
"Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?"
"Thank you for giving me the job! And thank you again for trusting me!"
Every cell in Kang Sangrok's body — the man they used to call a walking Alpha Detector — was firing, down to the last hair on his skin. And every one of those cells was shouting the same thing.
Follow Team Leader Lee Jaewook.
He puffed his chest out until he was swollen up like a gorilla and strode through the first-floor entrance.
And then.
"Um. I'm here on an errand..."
That was Kang Sangrok's instinct. In front of something stronger than himself, he shrank. Not because of the staff posted at the door — because of the scale of the company behind them.
"What is it? Where are you from?"
"I don't know. But my hyung-nim told me to deliver this directly to your CEO."
"Excuse me?"
The pretty receptionist furrowed her brow. Kang Sangrok did not budge.
"It has to go directly to the CEO of Travel Entertainment."
And like a constipation remedy that did exactly what it promised on the label, with zero exaggeration — he had not so much as peeked inside the envelope. Team Leader Lee Jaewook had told him not to, and that was that.
It... got there, right?
I don't put much stock in a person's eye for these things. Not because I don't trust my own eyes — because people, as a rule, simply aren't things you put your faith in.
And yet.
Anyone who had seen Kang Sangrok bellowing Thank you for giving me the job! And thank you again for trusting me! would have shouted in unison that you had to trust him at least once, wouldn't they?
I finished sorting my thoughts and spoke to the Ghost.
"By any normal calculation, we would have halted Im Jinseo's recruitment."
"What on earth are you talking about...?"
The Ghost craned his neck to stare at me. I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and started talking.
"There were two reasons I had Im Jinseo investigated. First: to identify the conflict between her and her agency."
"..."
"That was for the recruitment. You need to know the weak link before you can shake it. And second."
I could almost hear it — a heavy gulp, the Ghost's Adam's apple bobbing. I kept going, leaving him hanging on every word behind me.
"I also investigated whether there was something that meant we shouldn't recruit her at all."
Risk assessment. Analyzing the danger of bringing someone in is as natural as reaching for water after a meal.
"And I found both."
"...What did you find?"
The reason the Ghost remembered Im Jinseo so bitterly was probably that the whole thing had been tangled from the starting point. I had wet my throat, but I kept my voice as dry as I could.
"Do you have any memory of seeing Im Jinseo in your hospital room?"
The Ghost took a beat before answering.
"...No. She never came even once. If she'd at least shown her face once before giving up on me, I wouldn't resent her the way I do now."
"You're wrong. Im Jinseo arrived at the hospital right after the accident. Before anyone else."
"...What?"
"Possibly even before you became what you are now."
What I was about to tell him was the story of a selfish woman making an unselfish choice — just once.
That same evening. Im Jinseo's apartment.
Im Jinseo sat in a dark room, eyes and mind locked on the television — the only light in the place — as if she might fall into it.
Onscreen, the heroine Jeong Yunna turned on the hero Oh Pilseung and snapped.
Watching episode four of You Are My Straw, Im Jinseo burst out laughing.
"The writer's the one who's insane. What kind of brain writes dialogue like that?"
And yet it was funny. The whole thing could have slid into third-rate fluff with one wrong step, but they'd seasoned it just right.
She kept watching, still laughing — and then a shadow began to gather on her face. It could have been nothing more than a physical thing. The drama had shifted to night, and the screen had gone dark. But the shadow on Im Jinseo's face was considerably deeper than that.
"Hah... this is so irritating."
It was good while she was watching it. It was genuinely entertaining. And yet this drama, for some reason, got on her nerves.
She had a feeling she knew why.
Im Jinseo's eyes slipped past the actors on the television and settled on a memory from quite some time ago.
"This is so irritating."
The line Im Jinseo had lived with in her mouth. The same line Jeong Yunna, the heroine of You Are My Straw, kept throwing at the male lead. As if the character were Im Jinseo herself — full of inferiority, and ugly with it.
"Why is it always Shin Chaeyoon? Is she the only actor in this company?!"
Actors — actresses especially — have a tendency to want to be the lead. Im Jinseo had it worse than most.
She had liked Shin Chaeyoon. Any actress of Im Jinseo's generation, the one that came right after Chaeyoon's, looked up to her. That was why Im Jinseo had come to Nine Entertainment. And then human nature did what it does. Once she was actually there, it was just jealousy. Temper flaring. Irritation. That particular breed of inferiority that whispers you could catch her if you just climbed a little higher.
Around the time the managers started finding her too much to handle, Director Kim Taewoo took Im Jinseo on himself.
"That's not true. You're all our actors equally. You too, Ms. Im Jinseo — and Chaeyoon noona as well."
"There it is again! I'm 'Ms. Im' and Shin Chaeyoon gets 'noona' — again!"
"Can I get you a glass of water? Just take a breath. This film... we didn't push Chaeyoon noona for it. They specifically asked for her."
"Are you dense too, Director Kim? How did you even make director with a brain like that? I told you not to call only Shin Chaeyoon 'noona'!"
"If you want, I can call you noona too, Ms. Im Jinseo."
"...Are you crazy? You're older than me."
A laugh slipped out of her — pfft — as the memory surfaced.
How absurd it had been. And how unfairly cute he had looked, wearing that easy, good-natured smile while talking complete nonsense.
The drama on the television vanished from Im Jinseo's eyes. Only the old scenes remained.
"I thought I'd beaten Shin Chaeyoon back then..."
That was how it had started. Shin Chaeyoon cutting back on projects to raise a child had been one of the reasons Kim Taewoo ended up managing Im Jinseo. Her impossible personality had been the bigger one. Im Jinseo had chosen to take it the way that felt best.
For the first time, it had felt like she had won.
"Hah, I'm exhausted."
"Want me to get a restorative tonic made up for you?"
"And if I have a reaction to the wrong stuff? Who's going to take responsibility?"
"I will, of course."
"...Ugh. You're actually insane."
They had stuck together like that for two, maybe three years. He was her dedicated manager, yes, but he was also a director in administration, and Im Jinseo was not the kind of actress who worked herself into the ground, so they had not been together every hour of every day.
Somewhere along the way, the way he called her shifted from "Ms. Im" to "Jinseo." And somewhere along the way, she started enjoying it.
That was when they had an accident of a different kind.
"We're in trouble."
"Trouble? We're just casually seeing each other. Don't make it a bigger deal than it is."
"...Oh. Is that so?"
"What? Planning to move me in? You're not just counting your chickens before they hatch — you're drowning in the soup."
"...I like you."
"Ugh, don't say something so sappy. You're going to piss me off."
She had thought of him as a trophy. The one thing she had managed to take from Shin Chaeyoon. Not that she would have held hands and kissed someone she actually disliked.
He was easy, for one thing. He put up with a personality no one else could handle.
And then another accident happened.
She had been shooting near the hospital, as it happened. She had run there in a blur. And she had watched Director Kim Taewoo — covered in blood, as unreal as a scene from a drama — being wheeled into an operating room.
That was when Im Jinseo understood.
That it had been love.
.
.
.
Long after episode four of You Are My Straw had ended, Im Jinseo sat staring blankly at the commercials. When she finally spoke, the words came out slow.
"...Leave it to an actress to live her life like a movie. A cheap, out-of-date B-movie, at that..."
Not that she regretted it. The one thing she did regret was never answering him.
In front of Im Jinseo's building.
I had been standing there like a stone sentinel. When the Ghost came back to me, I asked him.
"Did you see her?"
"..."
His silence was the answer. We had put our respective natures to full use. I went near Im Jinseo's home; the Ghost, unbound by anything physical, went in to see her.
After hearing what I had to say, he had insisted he had to see her for himself. So I had cut into my sleep and come here.
Three years ago, Im Jinseo had heard about the accident, come to the hospital, and collapsed.
That was the truth of that day, unearthed by Detective Park Daesu.
She had told no one around her, so of course she had gone down in memory as the terrible person who never visited even once.
The Ghost turned to me with a wrecked look on his face.
"Why didn't she come back to the hospital after that day? She could have come even once, later on. Then I wouldn't have misunderstood her this badly..."
Moments like this made it hard to argue with the old saying that a monk can't shave his own head. Here was a man who put other people at ease better than anyone alive, who was more human than most of the living — and he couldn't see his own situation for what it was.
"I suspect it was because she felt guilty."
"Guilty?"
"Yes. I don't know exactly what for."
"..."
"And I think it was also so she wouldn't waver."
Some people reach for hope when they're staring into the void. Others start by looking reality in the eye.
Im Jinseo was the latter.
"..."
The silence stretched. Then the Ghost spoke again.
"About Jinseo. If we leave things as they are, she'll end up tied to that man, right? If she holds out, people will find out eventually?"
I answered as I headed for the car.
"I've already taken care of that."
"What??"
"The CEO of Travel will likely ask Im Jinseo to terminate her contract within a few days. As early as tomorrow, even."
"How?"
"I made a threat that wasn't quite a threat. The same way Travel's CEO did."
"A threat?"
"It just worked out that way."
If sending Kang Sangrok had been a problem... well, it probably was.
Still. It had been love, more than expected. On her side, too.
I got in the car and sent a message to Director Choi Yoona.
It felt like something essential was missing, so I added one more.