How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor – Chapter 67

Author: Cireng

Chapter 67

The moment I returned to the hotel, I collapsed.

By the next morning, the heat radiating from my body was enough to make me dizzy.

“What a joke…”

Three days of shooting back-to-back wasn’t even that big a deal. How did I end up this sick?

‘So this is all the stamina a twenty-five-year-old has?’

At first, I blamed Yoo Seulho’s body, but the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.

Compared to the months I’d suffered through filming the drama, these last three days were nothing.

Then it hit me.

‘Ah.’

Dealing with Director Shin.

Changing agencies.

Filming commercials.

Right.

I hadn’t had a single day off.

‘Still.’

If I end up bedridden over something like this, what good am I?

Despite my dissatisfaction, my body felt like waterlogged cotton and refused to move.

I could force myself to move if I gritted my teeth, but it felt like my body was always a beat behind my thoughts.

‘Ha.’

Forget it.

I’ll rest for today and get back to work properly tomorrow.

I flopped back onto the bed.

‘Ah, my phone.’

I’d collapsed the moment I returned to the hotel last night and never checked it.

Slowly grabbing my phone, I found exactly what I expected.

A lengthy message from Bae Dain.

‘Good thing I cut her off yesterday.’

There’s no way I could’ve calmly listened to all that in yesterday’s condition.

Thinking I’d have gotten hit with a personality controversy if I’d handled it wrong, I sent a simple reply.

“Seulho, do you want something to eat?”

“I told you I don’t need anything.”

I tossed my phone aside, annoyed that Choo Seomok kept hovering around me.

“You still need to eat something if you’re going to take medicine.”

“I’ll handle it myself, so just get out.”

I weakly waved my hand.

Seomok looked troubled, but obediently closed the door and left.

Maybe it was because he’d been in the military, but once I gave an order, he accepted it without arguing.

That part was really convenient.

‘Ugh.’

I really do feel terrible.

I tried to remember the last time I’d been sick, even back when I was a loan shark, but I couldn’t.

It had been that long since I’d genuinely felt ‘sick.’

By the afternoon, after sweating buckets and suffering in misery, various thoughts came to me.

‘People really need firsthand experience.’

Even strong people would eventually weaken if they had to live like this every day.

The role I’d accepted for my next film was a patient suffering from chronic pain after a sudden accident.

A man plagued by sleepless nights due to unbearable pain, eventually becoming irritable and bitter.

I had understood the script when I first read it, but actually being sick like this made the suffering feel much more real.

‘I can immerse myself in the character before filming. Nice.’

I tried to think positively.

But that didn’t change the fact that my body felt like I was carrying sandbags.

‘I’m thirsty.’

Suddenly, my throat burned with thirst.

Unable to ignore it, I forced myself upright.

‘Wow.’

How could getting water be this difficult?

It felt like life had suddenly become much harder.

“If I’d known it’d be like this, I would’ve just told him to bring me water…”

I staggered step by step toward the living room.

Then…

Bang

“Would you like some water?”

“…What?”

Why are you here?

I stared dumbfounded at Choo Seomok, who suddenly burst in.

Ignoring me, he sat me back on the bed and handed me a glass of lukewarm water.

“Here.”

I was angry, but I accepted it first.

My thirst took priority.

“Gulp… Ha. I told you to go home.”

Only after draining the glass could I speak.

“You acted as if you listened, but you just ignored me. Lying to people too.”

“No.”

Seomok answered calmly despite my irritated tone.

“You told me to leave, not to go home.”

According to him, he’d simply closed the door and quietly waited in the living room.

There wasn’t even a hint of flexibility in his explanation.

Speechless, I swallowed a sigh.

‘Forget it.’

It’s my fault for getting sick. Who can I blame?

‘But that’s strange.’

No matter how sick I was, how did I fail to notice someone just beyond a thin door?

It was only a fever. Could my senses really deteriorate that much?

“I’ll be using the restroom for a moment.”

His words made me ask,

“You held it in for hours?”

“Yes. I thought you’d be unable to rest comfortably if you knew I was outside.”

“…That’s still lying.”

You creepy bastard.

I glared at him in irritation, but his eyes simply said, ‘What can a sick person do?’

Damn it.

I’ll recover quickly just to spite you.

***

Thankfully, I felt much better the next day.

I hadn’t gone hungry thanks to the porridge Seomok brought me.

And even when I snapped and told him to leave, he insisted one last time and made me take medicine, which reduced the pain.

‘Looking at it now, I really was taken care of.’

I was grateful.

But it also made me uncomfortable.

It’s not like I’d ever been nursed by someone before.

Part of me wanted to sarcastically ask why he never listened.

But I couldn’t forget that while my body was twenty-five, my brain was thirty-five.

‘Act like an adult.’

Just thank him for yesterday.

That was all.

Determined, I found Seomok.

“Seomok.”

“Yes. How are you feeling?”

“Better. But next time I tell you to leave, just leave. Don’t ignore me.”

…The words didn’t come out the way I’d intended.

He’d taken care of me and was getting scolded for it, yet he merely nodded calmly.

“I will try. However, as a manager, I judged that taking care of my actor’s health had greater priority than obeying the actor’s instructions.”

“I get it, so stop treating me like a child. It’s not like I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“You threw plenty of tantrums yesterday.”

Ha, forget it.

Talking to him is impossible.

“Let’s just go to the company…”

After getting dressed, I headed to Wooyeon Entertainment.

The moment I opened Team 1’s office, I was greeted by a worried voice.

“Seulho, I heard you were sick yesterday. Are you okay?”

“It was just a cold.”

“You still look pale. Get an IV on the way home.”

I waved off Team Leader Ahn’s concern.

“So what’s going on?”

“I got a call from the commercial company. They said the atmosphere during filming was great thanks to you. Everyone had nothing but praise.”

“That’s good.”

I didn’t work to be praised, but the better my reputation became, the more jobs I’d receive.

Sure enough, Team Leader Ahn continued.

“Apparently a casting director who’s close to Director Yoon stopped by on the last day. Outsiders weren’t allowed inside, so he couldn’t introduce himself.”

“Really?”

“But he said your acting that day left an impression. And seeing how you lightened the atmosphere on set made him think of the perfect role for you.”

Oh?

So this is how jobs come in.

“What is it? A movie?”

“Yeah. A movie. I read the synopsis, and it’s pretty good. Want to see it?”

“Hmm… I’ll read it later.”

My condition still hadn’t fully recovered.

My body kept wanting to lie down.

After hesitating for a moment, I stretched out on the sofa.

“You probably think I’m rude, but this is all because you make me too comfortable, Team Leader.”

“Haha, sure.”

Team Leader Ahn flipped through some papers.

As I blankly stared at the ceiling, the only sound breaking the silence was the occasional rustling of pages.

That peaceful atmosphere relaxed me.

‘It’s strange.’

We hadn’t known each other long.

‘But somehow I feel incredibly comfortable around him…’

Team Leader Ahn was naturally accepting.

I could imagine how comfortable the actors he’d managed in the past must’ve felt.

‘Maybe it’s because of the age gap?’

The fact that he genuinely felt like an older brother caught me off guard.

I’d called clients ‘hyung’ before to build rapport, but never once in my life had anyone actually felt like family.

Of course, Team Leader Ahn and I were only connected through work.

How much did I really know about him?

Why did I feel this way?

‘…This probably isn’t good, right?’

Yeah.

It’s not.

Feeling like I was becoming too soft, I abruptly sat up.

“If you’re tired, lie down some more.”

I refused his gentle suggestion.

Trusting people only hurts me in the end.

“What genre is the movie they recommended? Director Baek’s film is romance.”

The title of the movie I’d already accepted with Director Baek was ‘What I Loved.’

I played the female lead’s sick boyfriend.

After living a healthy life, he suffered a spinal injury in an accident.

Years of chronic pain made him irritable and changed him.

The female lead gradually became exhausted whenever she saw how unfamiliar her boyfriend had become.

Then she accidentally met the male lead.

A healthy and energetic man who reminded her of her boyfriend before the accident.

Feeling a familiar longing toward this new man, she became emotionally conflicted.

In other words, it was a romance centered on ‘the female lead’s inner turmoil between two men.’

‘My role is bigger than I expected.’

Technically, I was only contracted as a supporting actor, but my screen time was practically that of a lead.

More importantly, since the heroine’s heart wavered toward another man while her boyfriend was still around, audiences couldn’t simply support her without hesitation.

That made my performance extremely important.

Whether viewers cheered for or hated the heroine would depend entirely on how they felt about my character.

Director Baek was insane for offering me such an important role before even episode one of ‘Our Space’ had aired.

‘It’s going to be difficult to act, isn’t it?’

Unlike the youthful romance of my previous project, ‘What I Loved’ was a mature romance.

A story filled with exhaustion, decay, and tangled emotions.

Just looking at it made me nervous.

‘Well… what can I do?’

They’re paying me enough.

I’ll just do my job.

‘Whether I can do it well, I’ll only know after trying.’

Worrying wouldn’t let me see the future.