How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

Of course, with all three of us being men, acting like court ladies fighting over the queen’s seat was uncomfortable.

But when dealing with someone like Woo Junseo, the most important thing was dismantling the clique that empowered him.

It was the same method I used back when I was a loan shark whenever I dealt with a man who had been introduced to me through one of my lackeys.

When handling a man who lived intoxicated by his own greatness, a man who never had to watch anyone else’s mood, a man who was accustomed to throwing his weight around, the first step was always the same: bow your head.

Of course, if you looked too easy to push around, you’d become prey, so while staying in a position that didn’t irritate him, you had to continuously send the message:

‘I’m useful to you.’

The most important part was gradually climbing up until you stood on equal footing.

‘And I’ve already given Woo Junseo something valuable.’

Because of my ad-lib, the male lead’s character had changed into something he liked.

That made me different from Park Sangin, who had recommended me as prey but ultimately gained nothing from it.

‘The person helping you right now isn’t Park Sangin. It’s me.’

There was no way Woo Junseo didn’t understand that.

Still, there was no reason for him to publicly humiliate his lackey in front of me, so he replied calmly.

“Sangin, give us a minute. I need to talk to Seulho. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“…Sure. Call me.”

Park Sangin looked slightly hurt, but he laughed it off as if it didn’t bother him.

Yet the fact that he only spoke to Junseo and turned away without even looking at me made his wounded pride obvious.

‘This alone won’t be enough to break them apart.’

But if things like this kept happening, cracks would inevitably form.

I’d already seen it countless times as a loan shark.

In the beginning, the man was always closer to the lackey.

But eventually, he became much closer to the loan shark… the “business friend” who listened to him, never got on his nerves, and willingly lent him money.

When he later found himself in trouble and couldn’t even go back to the lackey he’d discarded, he would once again seek help from the loan shark.

That’s when the power dynamic reversed.

As long as you didn’t miss that timing, the man became a lifelong customer.

‘I don’t know what kind of relationship I’ll end up having with Woo Junseo.’

But one thing was certain.

The closer Park Sangin and Woo Junseo remained, the less it benefited Yoo Seulho.

After Park Sangin left, I delivered one final blow to the visibly uncomfortable Junseo.

“Sorry. I’m kind of uncomfortable around Sangin.”

“Huh?”

“You know I can’t act very well. Sangin kept telling me I should learn acting from him.”

I’d never even had a private conversation with Park Sangin, but I lied without hesitation.

“But honestly… instead of learning from Sangin, I wanted to learn from you. But Sangin seemed kind of upset about it. Well, I get it. From his perspective, it’d sting. I said I didn’t want lessons from him, but then I turned around and started asking you for acting advice. It probably hurt his pride.”

“Ah…”

Woo Junseo scratched his eyebrow, looking surprised.

He didn’t look upset.

Well, there was no reason for him to be.

At the same time, he was probably thinking it was only natural.

“It’s not that Sangin’s a bad guy. He was probably trying to help you. It’s just… he tends to overestimate his own abilities sometimes.”

The way he defended Park Sangin while subtly putting him down made me immediately nod along.

“Right? Honestly, I thought he’d back off the moment I said I wanted to learn from you. But he kept insisting that he was better and that I should learn from him instead.”

“Seriously?”

No. Not seriously.

At my innocent-sounding lie, Junseo frowned.

Grown men rarely confront each other with:

‘Hey! Did you really say that to Yoo Seulho?’

And even if they did, by that point the trust between them would already be shattered.

‘That’s enough.’

Pushing any further would only invite suspicion.

When making up stories, moderation was everything.

“Forget it.”

I deliberately put on the expression of someone regretting that he’d accidentally said too much.

“Looks like I ended up talking behind Sangin’s back. Just pretend you didn’t hear it. Improving my acting is the thing I want most right now, and Sangin couldn’t understand why I’d want help from you. I guess I felt a little disappointed. Anyway, let’s focus on the script.”

“Y-Yeah. Sure.”

After that, I calmly returned my attention to the script.

Junseo appeared to do the same, but every time he spotted Park Sangin lingering nearby, a strange look crossed his face.

I couldn’t perfectly interpret it, but it seemed to say:

‘You? How dare you?’

If I heard something cracking apart, was it just my imagination?

 

***

 

“Cut!”

Director Jang checked the footage and gave the okay sign.

“Let’s do the close-ups before we shoot the inserts. Ah, but Junseo’s clothes need to be ironed again. They’re too wrinkled.”

“Ah, yes! Junseo, please come this way for a moment.”

While Woo Junseo and the stylist stepped away, I reviewed the scene we’d just filmed.

‘Not bad.’

It was annoying that every take felt like it shaved off a chunk of my HP because I immersed myself too deeply, but I was satisfied with the results.

More importantly, fixing things with Woo Junseo had definitely improved the scene.

Now that he wasn’t treating me like I was invisible, our chemistry felt better, and the performance was much more stable.

Director Jang, who had probably noticed that before anyone else, grinned broadly.

“Seulho, you’ve gotten really close to Junseo. Compared to when you first met, you two are basically best friends now.”

He quietly sidled up next to me and whispered.

I laughed lightly.

“Well, I only got cast because of Junseo in the first place. Of course I should treat him well.”

“I’m grateful to him too. Who would’ve known you’d turn out to be this good at acting? Honestly, it made me reflect. I realized I’d been looking at things far too narrowly.”

“You saw what happened with your own eyes back then. My skills really were lacking at the time.”

“Seulho, you’ve really… changed a lot.”

“Huh?”

I turned my head.

Where had that come from?

“When we worked together before, you were quiet too. But not like this. You weren’t humble like this.”

Director Jang scratched the back of his head.

“To be honest, I complained about you a lot back then. If you’d been a great actor, that’d be one thing. But you weren’t, and every time there was an NG, you never even apologized. I thought you’d caught a severe case of celebrity syndrome.”

“I probably would’ve thought the same.”

“But now…”

He scratched his head again.

“I feel like I’m talking to an adult.”

“Huh?”

“Back then, you felt like a kid. You smiled nicely enough, but you always seemed stiff. Rigid. Like you’d burst into tears the second you stepped off set.”

Director Jang rolled his eyes as if recalling a distant memory.

“You felt like a kid who only knew how to smile.”

“Ah…”

“You must be wondering why I’m telling you this now. It’s because I’m embarrassed. Embarrassed that I thought those things. It made me realize I really can’t judge people very well. I wanted to apologize.”

Director Jang quietly extended his hand.

I immediately shook it.

His hand moved lightly up and down.

“Let’s keep working together, Actor Seulho.”

“…”

The sudden change in title left me blank for a moment.

Then I quickly smiled.

“Yes. I look forward to working with you too.”

“You’re filming again tomorrow, right? It’s a scene that wasn’t in the original script, so you won’t even have time to practice. Still, your role got expanded, so don’t hate us too much. Think of it positively.”

“How could I possibly curse at the PD?”

“People curse at kings when they’re out of sight. Why wouldn’t they curse at me? Still, thanks for saying that. Those brats curse me right in front of my face. Ungrateful little monsters.”

“What was that, PD? You were talking trash about us, weren’t you?”

The assistant writers in the distance immediately turned their heads toward us.

As Director Jang grumbled that the “little monsters” had ears that were too sharp, the assistant writers rushed over and smacked him across the back without hesitation.

‘They seem close.’

Despite the way they talked, they clearly relied on each other a lot.

Watching them naturally made me think of the guys.

‘I wonder if they’re doing well.’

Even the reports from the private investigators showed that the guys were still doing good work.

But that didn’t mean I knew how they were actually living.

It wasn’t that I was feeling sentimental enough to say things like ‘I miss them’ or ‘I’m worried about them.’

Just…

They crossed my mind.

‘Live well.’

I’m going to make a fortune in Yoo Seulho’s body, so you guys better live well too.

I was thinking exactly that when…

“Yoo Seulho.”

“…?”

I turned my head.

Park Sangin was standing there, his expression stiff.

In this drama, he played a same-age friend who worked part-time alongside the male lead, Kang Minwoo.

The character attended the same university and worked the same part-time job, but his role wasn’t particularly large.

Even in today’s scene, while Woo Junseo and I had been enthusiastically talking back and forth, Park Sangin’s only line had been:

‘Uh… this is kind of a problem, you know?’

I deliberately stared at him without answering.

His frown deepened.

“Let’s talk.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Because I have something to say.”

“Then say it here.”

“It’s not something I can talk about here.”

Park Sangin looked genuinely dumbfounded, but I answered calmly.

“What can’t you talk about here? Junseo?”

“What?”

“I told you already. I want to learn acting from Junseo. I get that you don’t acknowledge him. But what does that have to do with me? I think he’s an amazing actor. How many times do I have to say that I’d rather learn from him than from you?”

“…Have you lost your mind? What the hell are you talking abou–”

Park Sangin looked at me like I was insane.

But before he could finish speaking, someone else interrupted.

“Park Sangin.”

It was Woo Junseo, returning in his freshly ironed suit.

I widened my eyes in mock surprise.

I’d known Junseo was approaching and had deliberately timed my words for him to hear, but I acted as though I had no idea.

“Junseo. No, this guy suddenly…”

Park Sangin still hadn’t grasped the situation.

Junseo’s response was ice cold.

“Are you screwing around right now?”

This time, it wasn’t my imagination.

Snap.

I heard it clearly.

The sound of a relationship breaking apart.