How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 66

Chapter 66

 

“Dain, eat this.”

“Huh?”

I pulled out one of the chocolates Choo Seomok had packed for me earlier and handed it to Bae Dain.

“You’ll feel better if you eat something sweet.”

“Ah, okay…”

She accepted the chocolate with a look that clearly said none of my words were reaching her.

Then she just sat there like a broken robot, so I had no choice but to unwrap it for her.

“I know you don’t feel like eating, but just have one.”

“Ah!”

When I practically pushed it toward her mouth, she instinctively accepted it.

There was an awkward, somewhat sour look on her face as she chewed.

Her expression practically said, ”Thanks, but please leave me alone.”

But I paid no attention and repeated the process two more times.

“S-Senior, thank you, but that’s enough…”

“Okay.”

After feeding her enough, I immediately stopped paying attention to her.

A few minutes later, the expression of Bae Dain, who had been on the verge of breaking down, gradually improved.

‘Thank goodness.’

I might not be good at comforting people with warm words, but thanks to my manager, I had more than enough chocolate.

‘I don’t like sweets either, but I trust the power of sugar.’

When glucose reaches the brain, concentration and judgment temporarily improve.

Stress decreases, and your mood becomes a little lighter.

Most importantly, eating forcibly redirects your focus.

‘This reminds me of the old days.’

When I first inherited the business, I spent entire days tense from the thought that hundreds of people would now depend on me.

I couldn’t let the kids see that, so I used to suck on candy to consciously calm myself.

Thankfully, just like it had worked for me back then, it seemed to work on Bae Dain too.

“…Thank you, Senior.”

Bae Dain said she felt much better now, and she definitely looked better than she had five minutes ago.

Of course, she hadn’t completely overcome her nerves.

‘She must feel trapped.’

Chocolate couldn’t solve the actual problem.

In the end, it was up to her to act well enough to earn the director’s approval.

‘And if she gets another NG, she’ll break down again.’

And by then, chocolate wouldn’t help nearly as much.

‘Hmm.’

What should I do?

I wasn’t a kindergarten teacher. There was no reason for me to coddle some frightened kid.

But this was work.

Anything that interfered with my work had to be removed.

Most importantly, I wanted to get off work early.

“Dain, are you really nervous?”

I asked casually.

She gave a bitter smile.

“I know it’s stupid… I came here thinking this might be my last chance, so I guess I’m desperate.”

Then she started rambling about her history without me even asking.

At eighteen, she started acting and almost landed a lead role in a major production, making it all the way to the final round before getting cut.

Back then, she’d thought, ‘Maybe I’m destined for this,’ and gave up college and employment to keep pursuing acting.

Now she was twenty-six.

Before she knew it, she’d be in her late twenties.

And if she couldn’t produce something worthwhile this time, she was thinking of giving up.

She kept listing one sentimental story after another before suddenly snapping back to reality.

“Ah! I’m sorry, Senior! I just started rambling…”

“So in the end, you’re nervous because you’re afraid you won’t be able to act anymore?”

“Exactly… I wasn’t cast because I’m Bae Dain. They just needed someone to play an ordinary woman. Anyone would’ve been fine.”

Countless actresses could replace her.

That’s why she felt she couldn’t afford to make mistakes.

I listened carefully before speaking.

“You’re right. Someone else could definitely replace you.”

“…Yes.”

“Then there’s even less reason to be nervous.”

“Huh?”

She blinked.

“You weren’t cast because you’re Bae Dain. It’d be great if you showed a performance only you could give, but even if you don’t, nobody will complain.”

She didn’t need to show some extraordinary, unforgettable performance.

What the production wanted was simply an ordinary girlfriend.

A character so ordinary that anyone else could’ve played her.

“You don’t have to show anything amazing. That’s not the only way to keep acting.”

What Bae Dain needed right now was to stop thinking about her own situation and focus entirely on the character.

Instead of trying to deliver an irreplaceable performance, she needed to portray a woman who wasn’t swayed by her boyfriend’s nonsense.

“You’ve been acting from eighteen to twenty-six, right? That’s eight years.”

“Y-Yes. Though…”

“Then trust yourself. As you said, plenty of other actresses could do this role. Which means there’s no reason you can’t.”

“……”

She opened her mouth and closed it again.

Watching her search for words, I yawned inwardly.

‘Ah, this is kind of a pain.’

The conversation had become longer than I’d expected.

Maybe I really wasn’t feeling well.

“Sorry for acting like I know everything when I don’t even know your circumstances.”

“Huh? No, Senior! Don’t worry about that. It really… really helped me!”

She flailed her hands in surprise.

She thanked me repeatedly, saying it helped a lot.

But I didn’t really believe her.

‘How much can someone else’s words really help?’

Besides, telling someone not to be nervous…

Easy to say.

If it were that simple, how many people would actually feel nervous?

It’s not like people do it because they want to.

‘But what else was I supposed to say?’

I figured it was better than empty encouragement like ‘You can do it!’ or ‘Fighting!’

Still, considering she’d just been lectured out of nowhere, she looked noticeably better.

“Is everyone ready?”

Right then, the director returned.

Underneath the faint scent of his cologne lingered an unmistakable smell of cigarettes.

‘How many did he smoke?’

The smell instantly triggered a craving.

If this weren’t someone else’s body, I’d have smoked to my heart’s content.

Suppressing my disappointment, I stood up.

“Director.”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

I approached the still-annoyed director and whispered.

“Do you happen to wear Cèdre Ornais?”

“Huh?! How did you know?!”

His voice rose dramatically.

It was the loudest I’d heard him speak in three days.

The staff all turned to look, but the director didn’t even notice.

“Wow! Nobody’s ever guessed that before! How’d you know? Are you into fragrances?”

“I used to be interested and studied them a bit. My knowledge is actually pretty shallow.”

“Come on! Nobody with shallow knowledge knows Cèdre Ornais! Everyone here probably has never even heard of it. You’re lying, right? You must’ve studied a lot.”

The director enthusiastically rattled on.

I smiled inwardly.

‘Yep. I’m lying.’

I’d never cared about perfumes in my life.

But my clients had.

‘Those people were strangely obsessed with fragrances.’

Unlike other luxury goods that screamed money at first glance, perfume was subtle.

Private.

People in the entertainment industry preferred luxury items that only those “in the know” recognized.

And fragrances were always a hot topic.

‘Though I never understood why they were so obsessed with hierarchy.’

My clients didn’t buy perfume because it smelled nice.

They bought it to consume the brand’s history and philosophy.

Whenever I pretended to know about those things, claiming I’d “studied” them, their guard immediately dropped.

And they’d look at me with satisfied expressions.

“I prefer Cèdre Ornais over Talvoire. I waited a year to get this one, but it was worth it.”

“I see.”

“We should talk sometime. I never expected you to have this kind of taste. Hahaha!”

The director laughed heartily.

The annoyance that had been on his face moments ago disappeared completely.

He seemed thrilled that someone recognized his refined taste, and that someone was actually listening to him brag.

‘Good enough. He’s refreshed.’

After improving his mood, I returned.

Bae Dain carefully asked,

“Senior, what did you talk about with the director?”

“I told him I’d teach him how to make ramen, and he started laughing.”

“…Huh?”

“The director apparently can’t cook ramen. He always complains that it turns into Han River ramen, so I said I’d teach him. He must be really happy. Look how much he’s smiling.”

She blinked.

A few seconds later, she burst out laughing.

“No way. You’re joking, right?”

“It’s true. Why are you laughing? Is the thought of the director being unable to cook ramen that funny? Should I tell him?”

“Ah! No!”

She burst into giggles and hurriedly composed herself.

Maybe knowing a secret about the man who had terrified her moments ago made it amusing.

There wasn’t a trace of nervousness in her face anymore.

‘Good. That side’s taken care of too.’

Okay.

Now let’s do our jobs properly.

 

***

 

“Great work, everyone!”

“Woooo!”

The shoot wrapped up surprisingly smoothly.

Bae Dain didn’t make any more mistakes, and the director stopped nitpicking.

From the point where she ran out of the café onward, we’d moved outdoors, so finishing everything on time had been crucial.

Fortunately, that went smoothly too.

I scolded my girlfriend, who was drinking beer on the street.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Only to end up getting beer dumped all over me instead.

Thanks to Bae Dain perfectly timing and angling it, we got it in a single take.

Still, the beer soaked into my clothes and left me sticky and uncomfortable.

‘I want to shower.’

Thinking only about getting back to the hotel, I said my goodbyes to the staff.

As I hurried toward the car…

“Senior! Wait!”

Bae Dain came running toward me.

For some reason, she reminded me of that actor from the first day.

I had a feeling she’d give me another long speech of gratitude, and I was already tired just thinking about it.

So I struck first.

“Sure. Can I get your number?”

“Huh?”

“I have to leave right away because of my schedule. Let’s talk later over the phone.”

Still, asking for a young woman’s number felt awkward, so I just gave her mine instead.

Leaving behind a dumbfounded Bae Dain, who held my number in her hands, I quickly left.

“Ha…”

The moment I leaned back against the seat, a deep sigh escaped me.

I’m seriously exhausted.