How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 102

Chapter 102

 

The long-awaited day of the live broadcast had arrived.

After getting my makeup done and changing clothes at the salon, I headed to the company.

‘This is kind of embarrassing.’

Maybe because I always came to the company dressed casually.

Showing up looking like I was about to film a drama at any moment made me unconsciously stiffen up.

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, I asked Choo Seomok,

“Do other actors do their livestreams at the company too?”

“Usually, yes. The company handles everything for their first time. Once they get used to it, actors eventually just turn the stream on and off themselves.”

My personal ChatGPT faithfully answered again.

“Ohh. Then how often do they do it? Are there actors who schedule them regularly, like once a week on specific days?”

“Maybe idols do, but actors rarely do that.”

Choo Seomok continued smoothly.

According to him, people generally viewed communicating with fans as something idols were supposed to do.

That was why idols practically went live as part of their daily routine, whereas actors mostly streamed at certain times to promote their projects.

“Even in our case, we announced it three days in advance, didn’t we?”

“So what? Idols don’t announce theirs?”

“Unless they’re rookies, they usually just go live. Or they might give a short notice thirty minutes beforehand.”

I see.

As always, his explanations were incredibly useful.

When I asked if this was something he already knew, he answered proudly,

“After deciding to do the livestream, I looked up as much as I could.”

Moments like these made him feel like a kid.

“We’re here.”

While talking with Choo Seomok, the elevator came to a stop.

We entered the meeting room where today’s livestream would be held.

‘Wow.’

The first thing I noticed when I opened the door was the lighting.

For a moment, I had to wonder if this was really the same conference room I’d been in countless times.

“Do we really need this many lights?”

The employees setting up immediately answered.

“Of course! If we just use office fluorescent lights, shadows will make your face look ugly.”

“Ugh, just imagining that is horrible. No need to see something like that.”

“Exactly. When we already have a handsome face ready to go, a livestream that fails to capture it properly? Something like that shouldn’t even exist.”

“That’s right, that’s right.”

The two staff members chatted back and forth like they were doing a comedy routine.

Since I couldn’t possibly join in, I quietly sat down.

‘This is more serious than I thought.’

There were water bottles and light snacks on the table, and a smartphone stand sat in the center.

There was even a printed list of expected questions prepared by the company staff.

“Seulho, your lip color faded a bit. Let me touch it up.”

“Ah, okay.”

While I was reading the list, the makeup team came over to fix my makeup.

Just for this livestream alone, there were already over ten people gathered.

The overall manager, lighting staff, social media manager, makeup team, and so on.

“Mind if I watch too?”

With a smile on his face, Team Leader Ahn had just arrived.

Including him, there were eleven people in total.

Looking at everyone sitting in front of me, I forced my expression into place.

“…This is a little intimidating.”

My quiet remark made everyone burst out laughing.

“Hahaha!”

“It’s always hard the first time. You’ll get used to it, so don’t worry.”

“Right. You’ll be fine in no time.”

Laughing with the others, Team Leader Ahn reassured me.

“It might actually be a good thing that there are a lot of people here.”

“Why?”

“When you’re communicating with fans through a phone, you sometimes forget how many people are actually listening. That’s when you naturally end up misspeaking.”

In other words, it was better to broadcast with a certain level of tension.

As always, Team Leader Ahn’s words were persuasive.

“That makes sense. Alright. I’ll give it a try.”

To be honest, I didn’t really care about how many people were in front of me.

What bothered me was the fact that this was a livestream.

Maybe saying it in English made it sound different, but wasn’t this just a live broadcast?

‘If I make a mistake, there’s no editing it out.’

Thinking I couldn’t afford even the slightest slip of the tongue made my chest feel heavy.

‘Sigh.’

Honestly, I really didn’t want to do this livestream.

But I hated the idea of Yoo Seulho’s fandom name being Straws so, so, so, so, so much.

Regardless of what Yoo Seulho himself might think later…

‘I just hate it.’

No matter how viciously I’d lived as a loan shark, could anything be more cruel than letting fans call each other “Straws”?

If I was still human, then this was one thing I absolutely had to correct.

‘Enough whining. Let’s do this.’

After one last sigh, I composed myself.

“There’s about a ten-second delay, so don’t let your guard down until I say it’s completely over.”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll begin.”

Following the staff’s instructions, I opened my eyes as kindly as possible.

‘Please.’

Please let this end without any trouble.

 

***

 

There was one diehard fan of Yoo Seulho.

Her name was Han Gosu.

Though she was approaching thirty, she was still a woman whose greatest source of healing was eating spicy rice cakes with her friends while chatting away.

She didn’t concern herself with serious topics like career advancement, marriage, or raising children.

Instead, she preferred to ponder things like which squishy little guy was the squishiest of them all.

Honestly, in this day and age, that was a much more worthwhile concern.

‘Worrying over things won’t solve them anyway.’

Being depressed over problems without immediate answers was completely useless.

Rather, like Han Gosu, learning what brought her happiness and studying herself was far more meaningful.

And there was one thing this sharp and sensible woman never failed to make time for to enjoy life.

“Anyone coming to the company dinner tonight?”

At the team leader’s question, Han Gosu answered without even looking at him.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Going on a date with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend yet.”

“Oho~. So you’re in the talking stage. Heh, we’ve gotta let you enjoy that. Okay~! Anyone else who can’t make it besides Assistant Manager Han?”

The other team members looked at Han Gosu enviously.

Keeping her professional expression intact, she thought inwardly,

‘I want to go home already.’

Today was Seulho’s livestream.

A company dinner when she wanted to rush home immediately?

‘Not a chance.’

That’s right. Sharp and sensible as she was, she never forgot the joy of fangirling.

As she left work to watch her favorite’s broadcast, everyone cheered her on.

“Have a good date!”

She shamelessly shouted back,

“Fighting!”

‘Technically, I didn’t lie.’

Han Gosu proudly believed she had only spoken the truth.

Yoo Seulho wasn’t her boyfriend yet? Of course not. How could he be when they weren’t dating?

‘It’s not like I’ve only been a fangirl for a year or two.’

Han Gosu knew full well that dating Yoo Seulho was practically impossible.

Of course, saying she didn’t want to would be a lie. Who wouldn’t want a handsome boyfriend?

But she was someone who clearly distinguished fantasy from reality, and she didn’t like Yoo Seulho simply because of some pseudo-romantic feelings.

‘I’m sure everyone will ask me next week how things went, whether we started dating or not.’

But that wasn’t a problem.

She’d just say something meaningless when the time came.

Listening to meaningless things and saying meaningless things.

That was what social life was all about.

“Ah! There’s still an hour left!”

After getting home, Han Gosu excitedly opened her laptop.

There was still plenty of time before the stream started, but she hurriedly logged in.

‘They’re using YouTube instead of Instagram?’

She’d already gotten that impression from the announcement, but it definitely felt more official.

Of course, it wasn’t unexpected.

‘Isn’t this Seulho’s first livestream since debuting?’

Han Gosu had liked Yoo Seulho for nearly ten years.

That meant she’d been watching him since he was fifteen.

‘Time really flies.’

Honestly, when he was still a minor, he looked so obviously like a student that she hadn’t liked him that passionately.

She’d just admired him as a handsome boy and felt proud of him.

In fact, because her affection had only been at that level, she’d been able to ignore all the criticism from people around her asking,

“Why do you even like someone so useless?”

‘If I’d loved him too much, those words might’ve hurt enough to make me quit being a fan.’

Most of the diehard members of Yoo Seulho’s fandom, Straws, were similar to Han Gosu.

At first, they fell for his handsome face.

Then they became enamored with his constant smile and kindness.

Even though, from a fan’s perspective, his acting was so terrible it was practically unwatchable, the power of love was great enough that they eventually came to love even the Yoo Seulho who couldn’t act.

‘I’m so glad Seulho succeeded.’

Earlier this year, he proved his improved skills with “Our Space,” and now he’d somehow joined Wooyeon Entertainment.

Their Seulho was in a place that even highly skilled actors had trouble entering!

‘Thank you, Wooyeon Entertainment…’

During the twenty years since his debut, Seulho had never once done a livestream.

So if he suddenly decided to do one now, the only explanation was changing agencies.

‘They really know how to do their job.’

The one thing longtime fans like Han Gosu had always regretted was his lack of communication.

Even when fans stood around for hours just to catch a glimpse of him on his way to or from official schedules, he hardly spoke.

He would simply walk over with a smile, sign autographs, and quietly leave.

Even fans who had followed him for years knew almost nothing about him personally.

Most of the words that came out of his mouth were about dramas and movies.

Viewed positively, he seemed deeply devoted to his work.

Viewed negatively, he looked completely uninterested in his fans.

Han Gosu and other fans had comforted one another by saying,

“Our boy’s just shy. We know that, right?”

But honestly, they couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.

One year, two years…

As that disappointment accumulated over time, they had already abandoned all expectations.

So could anyone imagine how shocked the fans had been when the announcement was posted three days ago?

“I still can’t believe it.”

Even while watching the countdown saying the stream would begin in thirty seconds, her heart raced.

Han Gosu took a deep breath while staring at her laptop.

At the same time, she never stopped chatting with her online friends through social media on her phone.

 

➝ 15 seconds left

➝ thump thump thump thump

➝ Holy crap, I’m so nervous;

➝ (Me) I’m even more nervous, damn it

➝ (Me) What if I pass out after seeing Seulho’s face?

➝ (Me) I live alone; there’s nobody to call an ambulance for me;;;

➝ Stop exaggerating

➝ (Me) Yeah yeah

 

Just as she finished typing…

The stream finally started.

Yoo Seulho, looking unusually pure and beautiful today, filled her laptop screen.

Han Gosu immediately had to clamp a hand over her mouth.

‘…Are you kidding me?’

Why is he so handsome? Is he insane?

At the same time, her phone vibrated explosively.

 

➝ What the heck, why is he so handsome??????

➝ Ha… I think I’m gonna faint

➝ Someone call an ambulance for me

 

Messages from her friends poured in, but she couldn’t even focus enough to read them.

On the screen, Yoo Seulho calmly greeted everyone.

[“Hello. I’m Yoo Seulho.”]

“SEULHO, I LOVE YOU!!!!!”

Han Gosu screamed as if struck by lightning.

He had only just finished saying hello, yet she had already lost all reason.

And thus began the infamous livestream that would later be known as…

“The Great Straw Mass Hysteria Broadcast.”