How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 125

Chapter 125

 

“What acceptance speech?”

At my absentminded question, Team Leader Ahn answered casually.

[You know that drama you filmed. You’re going to win an award for it, so you should prepare.]

Our Space, which I filmed with Choi Ran and Woo Junseo.

That drama, which aired on a major broadcast network, had become one of the biggest hits of the first half of the year.

[Normally, they would’ve given Woo Junseo the Top Excellence Award, and at most they would’ve given you something like Best Scene-Stealer.]

But Woo Junseo had completely self-destructed because of the illegal gambling investment scandal.

No broadcasting station was crazy enough to give an award to a celebrity who wouldn’t even be able to show his face on TV for the next few years.

Still, it would be awkward for the network to only give a Popularity Award to a drama that had made them a considerable amount of money during the first half of the year.

“Then can’t they just give it Drama of the Year?”

[There was too much controversy surrounding it.]

Team Leader Ahn said that, above all, it was difficult to decide who should receive such an award.

[Usually, the chief PD receives that kind of award. But where is PD Jang right now?]

“……He’s in the mountains.”

[Exactly. How are they supposed to drag back a man who wants to become a monk?]

His words were so reasonable that I laughed helplessly.

After the drama ended, PD Jang had gone into the mountains, claiming that he had attained enlightenment through deep contemplation and reflection, and eventually chose to become a religious man.

To think that someone talented enough to win directing awards multiple times had abandoned worldly matters.

‘Woo Junseo really is something.’

He changed so many people’s lives before disappearing.

[So there’s a high chance they’ll give you the Excellence Award. Top Excellence would be a bit much, and Popularity would feel too stingy. Excellence Award is just right.]

“Isn’t this just you getting ahead of yourself, Team Leader?”

[I have connections at the station. I’m telling you because I’m reasonably certain.]

Apparently, it was common practice in this industry to learn these things through insiders.

If a celebrity looked genuinely surprised or flustered when receiving an award?

Unless they were acting, it simply meant their agency hadn’t informed them beforehand.

[If I think the person can handle it, I don’t tell them. It’s more fun watching them genuinely surprised.]

“Then you’re telling me because… you’re worried I’ll cause trouble?”

[Haha, no. Sorry, I phrased that badly.]

Team Leader Ahn laughed over the phone.

[You’re good at handling things, so you’ll do fine either way. But there are too many people looking for reasons to nitpick everything you do right now.]

Anti-fans were one thing, but Yoo Taeho and Lee Seulmyeong worried him the most.

He said we should avoid giving them any ammunition.

[It’d be good to learn beforehand what you should be careful about when receiving an award, so as few people as possible will mock your speech.]

Hmm.

‘Well, it’s not like learning would hurt.’

If someone wanted to help me avoid looking like an idiot, refusing would just be foolish.

After telling him we’d schedule something later, I hung up.

“Shall we head home now?”

“Yeah.”

What should I do during the remaining two days off?

Free time felt especially precious after so long.

‘Exercise is out.’

After forcing my body nonstop for several days, I didn’t even want to look at a gym.

‘Just some stretching at home.’

Trying to think of what else I could do, I asked Choo Seomok,

“What are you doing over the next two days?”

“I’ll stay home.”

“You aren’t going anywhere? Meeting frie–”

Ah, right. He said he didn’t have friends either.

Remembering midway, I hurriedly changed topics.

“Then want to work a part-time job with me?”

“A part-time job?”

Choo Seomok glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. I got contacted a couple of days ago too. I’ve got nothing better to do, so I figured I’d make some money.”

“Shouldn’t you discuss that with the company? If people take pictures, it could hurt your image.”

No matter what kind of part-time job it was, there was a limit to how much you could make in a single day.

If people, who knew that better than anyone, saw me working on my day off?

They’d naturally wonder why a TV celebrity was still working.

And then they’d arrive at another conclusion.

‘Oh my, just how little money does he make….’

In other words, I’d be branded as a poor celebrity.

Some people pitied celebrities they admired when they found out they weren’t wealthy.

But apparently, others lost interest entirely.

‘The world is really harsh.’

Instead of cheering for a hardworking young man, they lose affection?

If you’re rich, they hate you for having too much money.

If you’re poor, they hate you for looking poor.

What exactly are you supposed to do?

‘Life’s hard.’

Shaking my head, I spoke.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Nobody’s going to take pictures. The employer is thorough.”

“Huh?”

“You know them too. No, actually, you’ve never met them.”

I met Choo Seomok after joining Wooyeon Entertainment.

The employer who contacted me this time was someone I’d known before that.

“Who is it?”

His eyes, visible in the mirror, were full of curiosity.

Seeing that, I smiled.

“It’s…”

 

***

 

“Seulho! Long time no see!!”

A small rural village far from Seoul.

After traveling through winding roads, we arrived and were greeted by a familiar face.

“Long time no see, Yoon-ssi.”

“I know~ Feels like it’s been half a year!”

Choi Yoon, Choi Ran’s manager and older sister, smiled warmly.

It was nice seeing her again.

“How have you been? I saw articles saying you’re filming two movies at once.”

“They’re almost finished now. How’s Ran?”

“Busy filming a drama. Ugh, that stubborn girl has given me so many headaches.”

Choi Yoon looked dizzy just remembering.

“You know, there was a romance project being considered as the follow-up to Our Space. But I guess Woo Junseo really traumatized her. She absolutely refused to do romance.”

Woo Junseo, you again?

‘How far did you scatter your crap?’

While I laughed in disbelief, Choi Yoon sighed.

“She wants to do genre projects, but how easy is it to find a female-led genre piece these days? The company president practically begged her while waiting for something decent.”

“You must’ve had a hard time, Yoon-ssi.”

“As expected, Seulho-ssi is the only one who understands me. Ah, look at me. I was so happy to see you that I forgot introductions. This gentleman is…?”

“Oh, my manager.”

“Hello. My name is Choo Seomok.”

The guy standing blankly beside me quickly bowed.

When I explained he’d come to work with me today, Choi Yoon brightened.

“Perfect! We were short-handed. Come in!”

Following her into a building, I was greeted by the salty smell and the sounds of busy machinery.

And there was another familiar face.

“Hello, oppa.”

Choi Ran.

The actress from my first project, and today’s employer.

“Hey. Thanks for the flowers you sent me before.”

When I brought up the flowers she’d sent to my hotel after I transferred to Coincidence Entertainment, she looked grumpy.

“That was forever ago…. You’re really quick with replies.”

That expression.

It had really been a while.

Just like before, if someone else acted like that, I’d call them rude.

But when she did it, it just looked cute.

At least to me.

“You brat! Is that how you talk to someone who came to help?!”

“Eek!”

Apparently not to Choi Yoon.

After getting smacked on the back, Choi Ran finally relaxed her expression.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I’m happy as long as I get paid. Make sure the daily wage is good.”

Pointing at Seomok, I added that she should pay him properly too.

After awkwardly greeting Seomok, Choi Ran said something terrifying.

“Both of you, prepare yourselves.”

“Well then~ I’ll explain what you’ll be doing.”

Choi Yoon approached, smiling.

“Once we package and freeze 150 soy sauce marinated crabs, we’re done. Seulho-ssi and Manager Choo, you’ll wash all these crabs.”

“Isn’t that too difficult?”

“I can’t exactly tell beginners to make the sauce~.”

That was true.

Unable to argue, I picked up a cleaned crab.

I’d already known it wouldn’t be easy when Choi Ran asked if I wanted to do part-time work making soy sauce marinated crabs.

I repeatedly scrubbed hard shells with a brush and rinsed them with clean water.

“Why do you do this standing? Wouldn’t squatting be easier?”

“Standing is better. Standing only hurts your legs. Squatting hurts your legs and your back.”

I found myself agreeing again.

The fact that she answered instantly every time I asked something made her seem reliable.

“You’ve done this a lot?”

“Back in the old days. It’s my parents’ restaurant. I came whenever I wasn’t filming.”

Sorting crabs, Choi Ran spoke calmly.

Apparently, her parents had been running the restaurant in this village for over thirty years.

Because elderly residents couldn’t easily visit, they prepared small packages once every quarter so people could eat comfortably at home.

“The aunts who usually do this all got busy. If you hadn’t come, my sister and I would’ve suffered.”

“That’s right~ Thank you so much! Manager Choo too~!”

Choi Yoon smiled energetically.

I heard they’d been working long before we arrived, yet she looked unusually cheerful.

‘Isn’t she tired?’

Just then, Choi Ran whispered beside me.

“She’s probably especially happy because I’m here.”

“Why?”

“It’s been a long time since I fought with my parents. This is my first time coming here in ages.”

Without stopping her hands, she continued.

“To be honest, it’s less that we fought and more that they hate me one-sidedly. They always disliked me, but they hated me even more after my sister became my manager.”

“Really?”

“I wasn’t interested in liking them either, so I cut off contact. I was fine, but my sister probably had it hard, being stuck in the middle.”

“So you came because of your sister?”

“Hah, they kept calling her and whining. The aunts are busy, what should we do, can’t you help….”

Choi Ran looked fed up.

“They could just hire part-timers, but they don’t want to spend money. I know exactly how they think.”

“So Yoon-ssi asked you to come?”

“No. My sister would never ask because she’d be too conscious of me. I was the one who suggested coming. I had no schedule anyway.”

There was a sigh hanging at the end of every sentence.

“Where are your parents? This is their work.”

“They don’t do this anymore. Their backs hurt.”

Hah.

‘This family isn’t simple either.’

I’d heard bits before, so I had some idea.

But hearing this little girl refer to her own parents as “those people” made it clear things were serious.

“You’ve had it rough.”

“I didn’t come down here because I wanted to reconcile with my parents. My sister knows that. She just likes having me here.”

Even as she said that, Choi Ran admitted she understood her sister’s feelings.

“How much money can you make running a restaurant in a tiny village like this? Maintaining it is enough.”

Choi Ran had been sent alone to Seoul at a young age to start working in entertainment.

Most of the money she earned as a child went toward her sister’s tuition and maintaining their parents’ restaurant.

But after Choi Yoon, who’d gone all the way to a doctorate program thanks to that money, eventually became her younger sister’s manager, their parents exploded with anger.

The older sister, who had spent her whole life supported by both her parents and younger sister, was now trapped because she couldn’t choose either side.

“My sister stayed beside me as my manager all this time. That’s why I came today. Not to help my parents.”

Choi Ran answered firmly despite me never asking.

As if she wanted someone to understand her feelings, I simply listened quietly.

“Anyway… I can live just fine without my parents.”

Perhaps because of the salty scent of the soy sauce, the tip of Choi Ran’s nose turned red for a moment.