How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 115

Chapter 115

 

“Are you talking about actor Lee Yeonjae?”

Even as I said it, I wondered if I was right, but the other person immediately confirmed it.

Well, of course. Team Leader Ahn never called anyone “Actor-nim” except Lee Yeonjae.

‘Lee Yeonjae is coming here?’

I wasn’t some fan of Lee Yeonjae or anything, but having an actor who made hundreds of billions of won a year come to my house was a completely different matter.

The thought had never crossed my mind before, and it caught me off guard, but the reason I’d called was more important.

“As long as you can look after Choo Seomok, I don’t mind.”

Team Leader Ahn wasn’t thoughtless. If he was coming to take care of a sick person, it wasn’t like he was going to throw a party or drink here.

Sure enough, Team Leader Ahn apologized over and over with an embarrassed laugh.

[Sorry. I know it’s rude to bring someone to another person’s house, but I really don’t have a choice.]

“It’s fine.”

If this had been a place I’d bought entirely with my own money, maybe it would’ve been different.

Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be barging into my room.

And if Lee Yeonjae really was that kind of person, Team Leader Ahn would stop him.

[Don’t worry. Given his personality, he’ll practically act like he isn’t even there. He’s quiet. He’ll just stay beside me.]

“Please don’t worry. I’m the one who should apologize.”

It was practically my fault that I’d ruined the first chance they’d had to see each other in months.

‘And he even took a vacation day.’

Back when I was the boss, I wasn’t particularly invested in employee welfare, but I never disturbed people on their days off.

Everyone worked to make a living, and bothering someone who practically worked 365 days a year left a bad taste in my mouth.

“Team Leader, you really don’t have to come. I’ll call some friends or something.”

I was thinking of calling the detective agency guys, and if things got desperate, I could even ask Hyun Jingae.

But Team Leader Ahn brushed away my concern.

[This is exactly why I get paid the big bucks.]

And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

So I agreed.

 

***

 

Ding-dong.

Not even thirty minutes after hanging up, the doorbell rang.

The security camera the company had installed recorded the entrance around the clock.

After checking that someone was standing behind Team Leader Ahn, I opened the door.

“You’re here.”

Team Leader Ahn smiled warmly and said I’d had it rough.

And behind him…

‘Whoa.’

It really was Lee Yeonjae.

I found myself staring blankly until his greeting snapped me out of it.

“Hello. I’m Lee Yeonjae.”

“Ah, yes. Hello.”

Did a single Korean even exist who didn’t know Lee Yeonjae?

Seeing someone that famous bow his head and introduce himself so politely felt strange.

“Sorry for imposing on you when we’ve only just met. I usually try not to interfere while Jinbae hyung is working… but the vacation I got this time was really short.”

“It’s fine.”

“These aren’t anything special, but I brought them for you and your manager.”

Only then did I notice that Lee Yeonjae was carrying several shopping bags in both hands.

His face was so striking that I hadn’t even thought to look lower.

“Thank you.”

Inside were olive oil, expensive cookies, and other things.

‘These weren’t bought in Korea. They’re all imported.’

Since he hadn’t originally planned to come here today, they were probably gifts he’d bought to hand out to people.

Even if he’d bought plenty, the fact that he’d brought so much showed his personality.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure my manager eats well once he recovers.”

“You should eat some too, Seulho.”

“I will. If it’s okay, please speak comfortably.”

I remembered that Lee Yeonjae was thirty years old.

Originally, he was younger than me, but he was five years older than Yoo Seulho, so I had to treat him accordingly.

‘The title is a little awkward.’

Calling him ‘sunbae’ was strange because Yoo Seulho had technically debuted before him.

Lee Yeonjae debuted in elementary school, but Yoo Seulho had been working since he was five.

Of course, unlike Yoo Seulho, who’d been mocked as “Deadweight,” Lee Yeonjae had been treated like a real actor from his very first work.

‘But so what?’

Blood runs thicker than water. In the end, I couldn’t help but side with Yoo Seulho.

No matter how meaningless those years were, it was still true that Yoo Seulho’s acting career was longer.

“Should I?”

Lee Yeonjae looked at me for a moment and smiled.

“Then you can just call me hyung too.”

“Yes, hyung.”

After neatly settling how we’d address each other, I brought him inside.

As Team Leader Ahn unpacked in the living room, he asked:

“Is Seomok asleep?”

“Yeah. He’s been sleeping since we got back from the hospital. He hasn’t eaten anything today, so I think I’ll have to feed him when he wakes up tonight.”

“Got it. Have you eaten?”

“Of course.”

Did Team Leader Ahn think I was the type to starve alongside my sick manager?

While Seomok was getting his IV, I’d gone to a nearby restaurant and stuffed myself properly.

While I was talking with Team Leader Ahn, Lee Yeonjae sat quietly on the sofa.

‘Hmm.’

Getting close to him probably wouldn’t be a bad thing.

After all, Lee Yeonjae was Wooyeon Entertainment’s flagship star.

More importantly, he was ‘rich’.

The taxes he paid alone were enough to make your jaw drop, so his actual income had to be unbelievable.

But at the same time, I didn’t particularly want to get close to him.

‘Who doesn’t know how serious Lee Yeonjae is about acting?’

If I tried to befriend him, I’d probably just reveal how materialistic I really was.

I wasn’t ashamed of liking money, but there was no reason to advertise that I honestly didn’t care much about acting.

“Then please make yourselves comfortable. I’ll head to filming.”

“Okay. Have a safe trip.”

After receiving their send-off, I left for the set.

 

***

 

As soon as I arrived, I ran into another sick person.

Right. Before Choo Seomok, there was you.

“Noona, are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m really okay!”

Bae Dain smiled, looking noticeably thinner after just two days.

She didn’t look like she was lying, but my hand automatically rose to her forehead.

‘No fever.’

She definitely looked better than during the kiss scene two days ago.

Still, calling her condition “good” felt like a stretch, and I groaned.

“Can you really act today?”

“Of course I can!”

“If it were a normal scene, maybe. But today’s intense. You have to cry a lot too.”

Back during the kiss scene, we’d had no choice because of the location.

But today’s scene was inside a studio.

Even if we delayed it a day or two, it wouldn’t affect the schedule much.

Did she really need to push herself?

“No, Seulho. I can really do it.”

Bae Dain clasped her hands tightly.

She muttered that she hadn’t come this far just to collapse because of a little body ache.

The determination in her voice was palpable.

‘Well, being stubborn isn’t bad.’

But when she could rest, why force herself like this?

I understood how she felt.

But after watching her lose weight over the past few months, I couldn’t help sticking my nose in.

“How much weight have you lost since filming started?”

“About four kilograms?”

She answered sheepishly.

Even someone at a healthy weight would show noticeable changes after losing that much.

For someone naturally thin like Bae Dain, four kilograms was absolutely not insignificant.

“Keeping your weight stable is part of an actor’s job too, and I’ve completely failed.”

“If life went the way people wanted, no one would struggle.”

“I know. But at least it’s fortunate that we’re filming in chronological order.”

The movie revolved around Yeonhee suffering emotionally.

So the fact that Bae Dain, who played Yeonhee, was growing thinner toward the latter half actually helped immersion.

“It’s frustrating that my body won’t cooperate, but if it helps the movie in the end, that’s a good thing, right? I should look on the bright side!”

“If all you think about is the movie, when are you going to think about yourself?”

She laughed at my tongue-clicking remark.

“Oh, our Seulho. You’re the only one worrying about me.”

“Don’t just laugh it off.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll eat more.”

Claiming that staying beside me would only earn her more lectures, Bae Dain hurried away.

‘Calling this nagging?’

She wouldn’t be saying that if she lived with Choo Seomok twenty-four hours a day.

‘Whatever.’

Since she insisted, it would be ridiculous for me to step in and tell everyone to postpone the shoot.

‘Time to focus on my own work.’

Today was the day Dogeon would meet Yeonhee, who had come to truly break up with him.

It was also the first time they’d met since she told him they should separate.

After spending days like a wreck, Dogeon finally shaved and changed into clean clothes.

Because it was difficult for Dogeon to go out on dates, Yeonhee had always adjusted for him.

His house had become their primary dating spot.

And now, that place would witness the end of their relationship.

Even knowing that the conclusion had already been decided, Dogeon couldn’t accept it.

And Yeonhee couldn’t bring herself to say cruel words to someone she had once loved.

In this scene, the two of them had to display emotions intense enough to break the audience’s hearts.

Since both Yeonhee and Dogeon had to cry, today’s emotional scene between Bae Dain and me was anything but ordinary.

‘We can do this.’

In some ways, it should’ve felt more overwhelming than the kiss scene.

But strangely, I wasn’t worried.

‘Funny, isn’t it?’

I remembered the script reading day, when I couldn’t even imagine the expression of someone who had been in love for a long time.

I’d never seen a man crying in fear of losing his lover.

I had no observational data whatsoever.

Yet I didn’t feel lost.

Maybe because I’d imagined Dogeon’s ending countless times over the past months.

I didn’t know how men cried when they really broke up.

But I knew how the Dogeon I had created would cry.

“Everyone ready? Let’s do our best today.”

At Director Baek’s words, I took my place with determination.

Even though this was the final day and there was nothing left to hide, Dogeon still wore baggy pants to hide his skinny legs from his girlfriend.

I thought about the feelings that weren’t written in the script.

Maybe it was because I’d spent months thinking about Dogeon.

Or maybe it was because I was exhausted from taking care of sick people for the past two days.

But my immersion came unnaturally easily.

If this breakup had to happen anyway…

“Ready.”

I only hoped Dogeon wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Action!”