PAYBACK BOOK 1.

Chapter 4.

The profile picture took two hours to shoot; only the adjustments remain, but I have finished all my work. My manager said he would stay and choose the photos, and then I could go up to the studio to wait.

 

"Park the car first. I'm probably stressed from being engrossed in unfamiliar work, so I was about to walk to the car to wait, feeling exhausted, when someone called out to me from behind."

 

"Ahem, Mr Lee Taemin."

 

I stopped at the parking lot entrance before turning around and seeing photographer P. He kept glancing back as if afraid someone was following him, then he hurried towards me.

 

I cleared my throat again. "Ahem, where are you going?"

 

"This is the parking lot."

 

"Why are we going to the parking lot?"

 

"I'll rest in the manager's car for a while," he said, and suddenly his eyes lit up.

 

"Tired, are you? Great! If you're tired, my place is on the second floor of that building. Go rest there first! We can discuss the nude work there," he pointed upwards excitedly, causing me to look up as I replied, "Never mind."

 

Receiving no reaction from the other party, I lowered my gaze and saw the photographer frozen in a position with his hand raised.

 

"Why? Because of Chairman Choi, your manager, Taemin?"

 

"No."

 

"So, is it because you don't like me or you're uncomfortable around men?"

 

He was probably around thirty-one or thirty-two years old, judging by the fine lines around his eyes. But the disappointment was evident on his face at the moment. This is so childish. I think if he didn't have a talent for photography, he'd be the type of person who has a hard time living in this world. No, maybe it's because he has talent that he still has this personality, like how even after a heartbreak, he indulges himself by finding new love.

 

Most people are probably like that; even when they're heartbroken or betrayed, they choose not to seek revenge, just as photographer P and Myungshin did, which is why he was able to move on. Being in this situation is possible now, but not everyone in the world is like that. Myungshin might have overlooked this. He probably didn't realise some people actually dedicate their time to giving back for what was done to them, and that's someone like me.

 

"It's not that I dislike them, and I'm not uncomfortable around men either. However, I don't have any strong feelings for them that would lead to sleeping together or any relationship. So go find someone else to comfort you."

 

Actually, when I heard that Myungshin had dumped him, it wasn't that I hadn't considered using him. However, involving someone who didn't want revenge, just the manager would suffice. Even if I could do something, if Photographer P were determined not to date a celebrity again after being dumped, then, well, that's what I did. So I deliberately spoke harshly so he could hear. And Photographer P, with his tense expression, was speechless for a moment.

 

"Wow! What should I do? I've fallen completely in love!"

 

What? I frowned, wondering if I'd misheard, but his excited tone confirmed it.

 

"It's alright, you don't have to feel anything for me! Just agree to sleep with me, and I'll give you everything. Hmm?" This guy isn't the same type as the manager at all. He's just another one of those guys.

 

"What do you want? I know a lot of people and can get you a CF (commercial) job right now! Or, I know a film director, you can join me..."

 

"You don't have to do anything!"

 

Luckily, a louder voice interrupted the photographer, and the manager, breathless and rushing in, immediately blocked my way. The manager lifted his chin and, glaring at him, said, "Enough! I'll groom my own actors. Photographer, you step aside."

 

"But I can give you what you want, Lee Taemin!"

 

"Huh? You know what Taemin wants? Taemin-ah, did you tell him everything about your revenge plan and Myungshin?" Wait a minute, you should have realised you'd been blabbing ever since you vented your worries about your child's tutoring fees to the delivery guy you first met.

 

"Revenge? What? Are you going to become an actor for revenge? And who is Myungshin?" At that moment, the manager took a deep breath, 'Gasp!', but then the photographer's thoughts raced through his head at lightning speed.

 

"Oh, isn't Myungshin actually Song Yoo-han 's real name?!"

 

"Gasp! Does photographer P know that Yoo-Han is his stage name?"

 

The manager kindly asked for confirmation. The photographer, whose eyes were now as big as goose eggs, whirled around to face me.

 

"Wow, you're really planning to get revenge on Yoo-Han? That's amazing!"

 

I turned to look at the manager instead of him. When our eyes met, the manager jumped, his shoulders shaking, and took a step back before grabbing his arm. The photographer snapped a quick picture.

 

"Hey, photographer P... Just kidding! Haha. What kind of revenge is this?"

 

The manager made an awkward excuse to cover up the situation, but even the photographer didn't believe him.

 

"What? Manager Choi's face clearly states that it's all true. Oh, so Manager Choi intends to get revenge, huh? Ah, give it to me, I will join in! I'll get my revenge!"

 

Suddenly, I'm starting to lose interest in revenge. A call came in on the way back to the company after we'd finished a simple dinner. All the way there, the manager kept making excuses, "Don't worry, haha. That photographer, I'll buy him a drink and brainwash him into thinking it's all a joke. You don't have to worry. I'm serious."

 

It felt more like he was trying to brainwash me than be a photographer. Just as I was about to tell him I was bored and to stop talking, I heard a phone vibrate softly from somewhere.

 

"Photographer P has a weak tolerance for alcohol. If I tell him a hundred times that it's a joke..."

 

"You have an incoming call."

 

I pointed to his cell phone in the car. He stopped talking, looked at the caller ID, and his face lit up with joy before he quickly pulled over to the side of the road and put on his headphones. I wondered what he was so happy about, so I glanced at the name on the screen and saw it was "Chief Park." Ah...that crybaby Chief Park. I remembered the time he interviewed me. But the manager's voice next to me sounded unusual.

 

"...Yes, Chief Park. What is it?... Why am I being reprimanded?... Yes...Yes, that's what happened. I'm not trying to argue, but I'm just asking because all the classes I had scheduled were suddenly cancelled...."

 

The manager, who had raised his voice, glanced at me before lowering it.

 

"Isn't it the company's fault for abruptly cancelling the sponsored classes from the start?... Yes, I know. But did Chief Park check?"

 

"Not yet, I don't know why the class was cancelled. No, I'm not changing the subject. I'm being reprimanded for questioning that work with the responsible officer, so I'm trying to explain. And if I couldn't speak that way, how could I work as a manager?... Yes, yes... I understand."

 

The manager hung up the phone with a tense expression and stared at it for a while before speaking.

 

"Taemin, aren't you going to ask what happened?"

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

Then he glanced up at me. Although his expression hadn't changed, the look in his eyes, usually kind to others, had clouded over with sadness, letting me know he was angry.

 

"I called to speak with the authorities because your class was cancelled this morning, that's the problem. There's a report that I threatened an officer, so the company is going to punish me by not paying for the core activities for this month."

 

A desperate laugh escaped his lips, but his eyes remained as dark as ever. I watched him silently before speaking slowly. "Well, there's nothing we can do but drop out."

 

"..."

 

"I'm fine. It's not like there aren't other institutions that offer education."

 

Then the remaining smile faded from his face.

 

"But I am, because this whole thing is ridiculous. The class that was originally scheduled was cancelled due to Myungshin's influence..."

 

His voice trailed off. He kept his mouth tightly closed before glancing up as if something had occurred to him.

 

"That's right, it was Myungshin's fault from the start. Why should I be blamed? That guy's a real jerk!" Hearing him curse for the first time, I couldn't help but smile.

 

"What should we do now?"

 

"Damn it, I need to go to the company first. I have to fix these mistakes, even if it means everything falling apart. I really should go back to the company and do that. It was like that from the start, but because I was as meek as an idiot, just like you said."

 

He cursed himself before starting the car and speeding off. I could feel the car moving forward as I spoke to the manager.

 

"Instead of letting the whole company collapse, why don't you try calling someone first?" I added, when he turned to ask, "Call who?"

 

"Let's go see Chief Park first."

 

Chief Park is on the top floor of the building. The company board offices are clustered here, separated from the hallway entrance by doors, so identification is required. Those who were first in line got in. We have to thank the manager for yelling loudly at our boss, Park, which allowed us to get through by a hair's breadth.

 

I walked on the silent carpet into the office, which was not far from the entrance. Chief Park sat in what looked like a small conference room and sternly told us to sit opposite him. Upon realising we had come to object, he put on a fierce, almost imposing expression, but since everyone knew he was a crybaby, it had no effect.

loud

 

"Even though Manager Choi spoke so firmly that I agreed to let you come up to listen to the story first, telling me now would be pointless," he continued emphatically, as if subtly trying to outsmart the manager.

 

"I contacted the office I spoke with this morning. It seems you did raise your objections. Even though Manager Choi seems to have been unfairly targeted, however..."

 

"You know who's been targeting me, don't you?"

 

When the manager interrupted, Chief Park covered his mouth with a troubled expression, and the manager pressed him further by mentioning a name.

 

"Is that Yoo-Han, Song Yoo-Han?"

 

"Ahem, I don't know. I really don't know. And you can't say that without any evidence."

 

"Haha, I'll find the evidence to confirm it myself."

 

He used his phone to text while he was talking, and after a while, it rang. Manager Choi smiled and pointed to the ringing phone.

 

"Listen carefully. Hello, is this Myungshin?"

 

"What do you mean? Are you saying it's all my fault and that's why you're thanking me?" Myungshin's irritated voice came through the speakers. Manager Choi chuckled slyly, a stark contrast to his usual sulky demeanour.

 

"Ah, well, thanks for worrying about my recruit. You really helped a lot, because you brought along the best photographer who's under contract with the company. We ran out of photographers, so we went to a photographer from Studio XX, and he took the pictures for us."

 

Myungshin repeated, "The photographer, P?" as if disbelieving, and the manager laughed even louder.

 

"That's right, that photographer again, haha. Even more so because you objected that the company-sponsored classes weren't for clueless newcomers. So I raised the issue with the company, and that's why Chief Park found me a replacement trainer! If it weren't for you, what else could have happened? Thanks so much! This time, the sponsored trainer is someone who gives lectures at the university..."

 

*Beep beep beep* Myungshin had hung up, so only the signal sound was coming from the phone. Only then did the manager lower the phone and look up at his boss.

 

"If this time someone objects to Chief Park regarding the personal trainer, it means I was right, wasn't it?" Chief Park rubbed his forehead as if troubled by the manager's question.

 

"You're right, but how could you lie about getting caught like that? About the photos taken by the studio's photographer... I was just checking."

 

"Just a moment..."

 

"That's true."

 

"What did you say?"

 

"Taemin just got back from having his profile photos taken there."

 

The manager spoke with a confident demeanour, a stark contrast to the sweaty, punching-arms old man I first saw. Completely surprised, he met the other man's gaze directly, confidently and with his chest puffed out. Even Chief Park seemed surprised, blinking and clearing his throat.

 

"Ahem, what if he doesn't call?"

 

"I'll call you later."

 

".."

 

"If he calls you, please make sure he continues to support Taemin's classes as promised. As for the activity fees, it's okay even if they're gone."

 

The chief looked on silently before nodding in agreement with the manager's firm tone.

 

"Yes, I will definitely do that."

 

"Thank you, Chief Park. Oh, Taemin said he had some questions."

 

He remembered that I had a request before coming up, so he brought it up. Then Chief Park looked at me with a wary expression, seemingly still retaining some lingering memories from the past.

 

"Hmm, what are you wondering about?"

 

"Tell me, who is he?"

 

"Who are you talking about?"

 

"That's the person who pressured you to criticise my manager."

 

I had several reasons for asking that lunatic to reprimand the manager in the first place, but the biggest reason was that I wanted to know his real identity. If I asked him directly, it would be very simple, but I wanted to be sure, before hearing from him personally, that he was truly a great person who could help me with my request. And now the opportunity has arrived, but Chief Park's reaction seems a little strange.

 

"Eh?"

 

He kept his eyes wide with shock, so I asked again.

 

"Honestly, it's strange. I didn't even raise a big objection, and I'm already being criticised. Don't you think someone might be slandering me?" 

 

Of course, that person is me.

 

"Uh...well..."

 

I squinted, staring at Chief Park, who kept making stupid noises and gaping in surprise. Why was he so startled? It wasn't an easy question to answer, but I thought he'd be taken aback.

 

"Because the people pressured you to become a celebrity?"

 

The manager, who was watching from the side, was so angry that he shouted when he heard my question.

 

"A celebrity? Don't tell me Song Yoo-han did that again, did he? That guy..."

 

"N-no...it's not. It's not Song Yoo-han. And he's not a celebrity either."

 

When he emphasised it to the point of waving his hand dismissively, this time I was the one taken aback. Huh? Is he not a celebrity? So did he ask you to do it for him or something? I frowned as I confirmed with Chief Park again.

 

"I'm not a real celebrity."

 

He nodded repeatedly.

 

"Then why did you flinch like that?"

 

I couldn't help but ask, and Park chief swallowed hard before speaking.

 

"Well, I was surprised because I didn't expect you to actually ask about that."

 

Are you serious?

 

"Actually, I was ordered to do it."

 

"What order...?"

 

"Well...if anyone asks about the person who came down to reprimand, tell them like this," he looked at me with a nervous expression and spoke with difficulty.

 

"Just focus on the 200 won.”

 

I struggled to suppress the words that were threatening to pop up as I turned away. Yes, I'll admit it, you're even more amazing than I am. I narrowly changed the subject from the manager and supervisor's suspicions about exactly what the two hundred won was to something else entirely. After that, a big break finally broke things.

 

I declined my manager's offer of a ride and walked to the bus stop. Instead, I boarded a bus on the opposite side of the road, instead of the one going home. The only reason was that, just as I was leaving the company, I received a text message at the perfect moment, as if it had been waiting for me. The message included the name of a shop and a phone number, followed by additional text.

 

[Come now]

Sender: [That lunatic]

 

The lights of the bustling entertainment district are brighter than during the day, making the night sky dazzle. In other places at this time, people have probably gone home to rest at the end of the day, unlike here, where things have just begun.

It all starts with the bustling crowds on the streets, people practically bumping shoulders, lined up stalls, and cars slowly manoeuvring through narrow lanes, all mixed with boisterous laughter and lively chatter, along with fast-paced hit music blaring late at night. 

 

Everyone seemed lost in this hypnotic atmosphere, as if hypnotised, but I wasn't involved. The music, the noise, and all the neon signs...There's nothing spectacular about it. It's not that I've forgotten the fun of laughing, talking, and drinking with people, even though I haven't done any of those things in years and might feel a little withdrawn. But more than that, I feel like the part of me that used to enjoy entertainment has been cut off by a dark blade since then, five years ago. Therefore, even though time passes, I cannot go back to my past self, just as I cannot run back to that moment five years ago. I cannot go back. I can't be myself anymore. 

 

I stopped walking and looked up at the sign hanging at the entrance leading down to the basement. After confirming that the long English sign matched the text on my phone, I walked in, but a burly man at the entrance blocked me. He was wearing a black suit and, judging from the headphones in his ears, he was probably a security guard.

 

"You can't go this way."

 

I double-checked the shop name before taking my next step. As I ignored him and continued walking, he quickly extended his arm to block my path.

 

"This is a membership-based club. Non-members cannot enter."

 

"What would it be like if I were a member?"

 

The guard, who had stopped abruptly, took a step back and then looked me up and down before asking with a questioning look, as if I didn't meet his standards.

 

"Are you a member?"

 

"No."

 

I looked at his grumpy face and pointed downwards.

 

"But the people waiting for me are probably members."

 

The security guard immediately apologised to me before asking something into the microphone connected to the earphones in my ears, just as I was starting to get annoyed with the idiot who had told me to come to this place. Feeling irritated, I started to stand up and rest my legs for a bit. The same guard came over and asked me something.

 

"What is the name of the person you have an appointment with?"

 

That guy...

 

"Could you please tell me the person's name?"

 

"You need to tell me your name to check..."

 

"Try asking if there's anyone who's like that lunatic."

 

"What did you say?"

 

He raised his voice, frowned, and took a large stride back, looking as if he were ready to use force to drive me away if cornered. I've tried every possible way to get this far, so I have to get in. I turned around, thinking of an excuse to just try and find the person I was supposed to meet, but before I could do anything, I heard someone running up the stairs, followed by my name.

 

"Are you Mr Lee Tae-min?"

 

I pondered for a moment, thinking that it wasn't their real name anyway. Couldn't I just say no and go in? But I couldn't resist turning back at the confirmation that followed.

 

"Ah... Lee Taemin is a pseudonym, his real name is Two Hundred Won. If he says so, have him come downstairs..." 

 

Turning around, I saw the security guard, shocked by my real name, blushing from trying to suppress his laughter. I followed the club manager down to the basement, who was completely convinced my real name was Two Hundred Won. The club, with its white English name, was quiet and calm, with an atmosphere like that of a luxurious restaurant, quite different from what one might expect from a host bar. Classical music played softly, and the light from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling illuminated the paintings hung in various spots in the small halls. Narrow corridors branched out from the central hall in three directions, winding in different directions, making it feel like the centre of a labyrinth.

 

“This way, please.” He called out softly to me as I paused to admire the view, then led me to the far left hallway.

 

"First-time visitors can easily get lost, so please hold me tight."

 

He probably wasn't lying, because the corridor was strange, requiring several turns before leading to another path that branched off again. I felt like if I lost the club manager, I'd really get lost. The only signposts were the doors lining both sides of the hallway, each with a unique and quirky design. The club manager stopped in front of one door, opened it, and gestured inside.

 

"Could you please wait here for a moment?"

 

I went into a cramped room that looked like the interior of a typical host bar and asked him what he wanted as he was about to close the door.

 

"How long?"

 

The club manager, who was about to close the door, paused before replying with a smile.

 

"It shouldn't take more than thirty minutes."

 

After the door slammed shut, I glanced around the quiet room and sat down on the edge of the long sofa. I checked the time; it was 9:29 PM. I murmured to myself. Hurry up before the door opens, and someone walks in.

 

"hello"

 

A beautiful young woman greeted us with a sweet smile as she walked inside. Her face was lightly made up, and her skin was radiant and flawless, as if she had stepped out of a dark abyss. From the painting, her slender neck beneath her styled hair looked radiant white against the dark red dress. She was so beautiful that anyone walking past her on the street would definitely turn to look. She was also holding a tray with glasses and some imported liquor. Judging from her appearance, it was immediately clear she wasn't just a waitress bringing in glasses and drinks. The point is, why did the host come into this room? It's not like before...I'd never been to a place like this, so I knew there was no way this woman would come in with alcohol unless she was a regular. I felt curious as I watched her sit next to me. When I noticed her, she moved closer and smiled at me.

 

"I can keep you company while you wait."

 

"It's not necessary."

 

"Ah...you don't like loud noises, do you? Then I..."

 

"I told you it's not necessary."

 

I spoke coldly, staring intently at her. The beautiful woman's face froze, but she couldn't do anything. They were experienced hostesses; even the men sitting there wouldn't immediately get up because they were considered customers, so I had to speak clearly, even if it sounded like nonsense.

 

"Pick it up and get out of here."

 

I pointed to the liquor and spoke in a low voice. The woman held her breath for a moment before looking at me. Realising I was serious, a trembling smile appeared on her face.

 

"Don't like it? Or would you like a different drink?"

 

She immediately asked in her usual cheerful tone, as if everything about her, from her appearance to her patience, seemed perfect. She mentioned that it was a membership-based system here, so it must be a pretty expensive place. That bottle of imported liquor might even cost half my year's salary!

 

"If you have a preference for any particular type of liquor, just tell me. They said I don't need to worry about the money and can just relax and enjoy my drink," a sweet voice said, sounding like a bird's song. I was grateful for the free, expensive liquor, but...

 

"I don't drink alcohol, so pick it up and go away." Finally, after being rejected a second time, she got up from her seat, but left the bottle of liquor behind.

 

"You probably don't like me, do you? I'll go call another person."

 

Before I could say anything, she left. A little while later, someone else came in, this time a handsome man. As soon as he entered the room, the man came over to me.

Even guys who are more handsome than average celebrities look at me and give a little smile.

 

"Wow, you're so cute..."

 

"Get lost."

 

As I blurted it out, I had a bad feeling, as if I was going to have to say the same words again.

 

9:59 PM. The moment the second hand struck twelve, I stood up from my seat. Prior to this, several men and women had come and gone, and there were two more. Three more men came in. I told them to get out of here repeatedly, and finally, thirty minutes passed. I thought I had done enough and wanted to leave the room, so I walked towards the door. But the door opened before I could open it.

 

"Sorry for keeping you waiting. I'm here to pick you up."

 

The moment I saw the face of the club manager who was leading me there, I wanted to curse him. If I had been just one step faster, I could have gotten out already. I suppressed my frustration as I reluctantly followed him, only to be led this way and down a maze-like corridor where I had to turn right, left, and then right again. I walked through many corridors, but I wasn't bored because I was amazed by all the different kinds of doors. I think I've seen a painting of them before. This style is very similar to what we've seen in children's stories. It depicts a long hallway with doors, a girl who has grown both taller and smaller, and a rabbit.

 

"Would you like to come inside?"

 

When she glanced up, she saw him opening the iron door at the end of the hallway and gesturing inside. Ah, that girl had gone through the wrong door and was now in a difficult situation. I stumbled into a strange world. I don't know why, but I felt as if entering it would transport me to a profound and wondrous realm.

 

"That's two hundred won."

 

I turned slowly, drawn by the name, unable to do anything but acknowledge the harsh reality. The forty-year-old club manager trudged inside before elaborating.

 

"You've arrived, Mr Two Hundred Won."

 

"Are you feeling unwell, M Two Hundred Won?"

 

"No."

 

I answered briefly and looked him in the face to confirm that he definitely didn't intend to call me that. Even so, I lingered on his innocent face for a while. After leaving him bewildered, he went inside. It was another world entirely. It looked like a warehouse with piles of goods lining both sides, as if he had suddenly crossed a luxurious hallway into reality. The club manager walked past, opened a door invisible from the opposite side, and went inside. Then the hallway reappeared, but this one looked a little different. It was undecorated, and there was no music playing. It was as if the hallway was used by the staff. The club manager walked down a narrow corridor before stopping in front of a door. He knocked, 'Knock, knock,' and then turned to look at me.

 

"He's waiting inside."

 

Then, he gently opened the door and stepped back. I checked my surroundings again before entering. Although the inside wasn't a strange world, waiting there means he's at least not a customer, right? Or is he the owner of this place?

 

"Is anyone waiting inside?"

 

When I tentatively asked him, he responded with a faint smile.

 

"He's definitely the one waiting for you, 200 won."

 

Suddenly, I deeply regretted only having 200 won in my pocket the first day I met him. Frankly, even if someone told me he was whipping a beast in that room, I wouldn't be surprised. 

 

Although the room was a messy office, I glanced around indifferently. The wallpaper and dark red carpet looked luxurious, but the office furniture and desks were simple. Even though it was a large room meant for one person, thick stacks of paper were piled high on the desks, in the drawers, and on the table, leaving no empty space. I closed the door and stopped to stare at the lunatic sitting behind the large desk in front of me. He was wearing sunglasses and switching between two screens in front of him. With the documents scattered on the desk, the relatively calm face behind thin silver-rimmed glasses gave the impression of being someone else.

 

"Sit down first."

 

I couldn't help but glare at his order. Where was I supposed to sit? The long sofa, which only had one seat, was already occupied by cardboard wings and other items. I glanced at the sofa, then at him at his desk, before reluctantly pushing the stack of papers aside and sitting down right there. This was something I didn't expect at all. When I first came here, I thought he'd just casually sip his drink and play some pranks on me, at worst. I had already braced myself for the possibility of getting punched again, but this is the atmosphere I'm supposed to be concentrating on working in. I glanced at the pile of documents, half of which were in English, and asked him.

 

"Who are you?"

 

That comment from Chief Park was one thing, and in this situation, he definitely isn't a celebrity. I asked the question I should have asked the first time, before he answered without turning around.

 

"A Shareholder"

 

I expected him to be sarcastic and not give a good answer, so I didn't immediately understand his response. "Shareholders?" Luckily, he explained further in a calmer tone.

 

"To be precise, I am one of the major shareholders."

 

It's obvious without even asking where it is that it must belong to Dream. But I don't know the position of the major shareholders, so I don't really understand. Just because they hold a lot of shares, they can come and go as they please, and the actors under their management bow down to them. They can even reprimand employees... Come to think of it, the first time I asked for a cigarette, they misunderstood and thought I was flirting with them. Is being a major shareholder really that significant? Even though I have some lingering questions, I think that might be the case, so I'll move on to the next question.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"...Lee Yoohan "

 

He looked up for the first time when he heard the question, then took off his glasses, held them in his hand, and stared at me intently, followed by his characteristic smile.

 

"When you ask someone's name, you should introduce yourself first, right? Or do you prefer the name 'Two Hundred Won'?"

 

I thought he'd be surprised because my name was the same as Myungshin's alias, but he casually put his glasses back on as he uttered his own name.

 

"Jay"

 

Huh? I frowned and stared at him, but he averted his gaze back to the documents and screen as if he was done with asking about his name. Jay is his first name. Is it English? It's not like his last name is 'J' and his first name is 'E'. Suddenly, I feel completely drained. Knowing his name and identity would probably tell me a lot about him, but now that I know, I feel even more ignorant.

 

I turned back to sit properly on the sofa before my gaze fell upon the TV mounted on the wall in front of me. It was a large screen TV that didn't quite fit in with the room, which was decorated like an office. I stared at the black screen, counting to ten in my head, intending to stand up when I reached the top. But when I reached nine, something fell beside me with a thud. It was a small flash drive. As I glanced at it without looking, I heard his voice follow.

 

"Open it and take a look."

 

He gave the order before focusing on his work again, his demeanour emitting a strange, silent "do not disturb" aura. So, I picked it up and opened it without saying anything. The reason I didn't rush out was that I was a little curious. The office was tucked away in a corner of a host bar, and then there was his face wearing glasses, working without a smile, and his name, everything was unpredictable. 

 

After plugging the flash drive into the TV, the title appeared on the screen, and the movie began. Five short films, each about twenty-five minutes long. Just as the narrator announced 'The End' on the last film, I heard a loud noise coming from the side.

 

"How are you"

 

I, who was engrossed in the screen, startled and pulled away from the sofa to turn around. I don't know when he'd approached, but he was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. I was a little annoyed with myself for being startled because I hadn't noticed him, so I asked in a harsh tone.

 

"What's going on?"

 

"..."

I'm not very knowledgeable about movies, and I'm not really into them. What would I gain from watching them? When I stayed silent and didn't answer, he changed the question to, "Which movie did you like the most?"

 

I was thinking about five short films I recently watched. Honestly, none of them was enjoyable. The content was ordinary, nothing spectacular, and felt like just capturing everyday life. That camera... I didn't understand any of the content, yet some things remain in my memory.

 

"The first and the fourth story."

 

He slowly smirked at the corner of his mouth at my answer. It wasn't a mocking smile, but rather a genuine interest, which only irritated me further.

 

"That's amazing! How did you know?"

 

I asked him with my eyes, 'What do you know?' and immediately heard his answer.

 

"Both films were directed by the same director."

 

So what's the point? Why spend two hours watching a boring movie just to confirm if I guessed correctly that it's by the same director? Me? I wondered what I was doing and was about to get up from my seat when I heard his characteristic languid voice.

 

"I have to be selective about which films to invest in. It's high risk for new directors, but if you choose wisely, the return on investment can be high as well. Even so, that also requires taking into account the tastes of someone who isn't an expert like you."

 

He added, while wearily rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

 

"This is one of my jobs: selecting films to invest in, raising funds for, and then making a profit."

 

"..."

 

"Do you have any more questions?"

 

I looked at him with a puzzled expression, wondering why he was suddenly explaining so kindly before I opened my mouth to ask. If he were being kind, then I should naturally go along with it.

 

"Is this your bar?"

 

"no"

 

Setting up a private workspace on one side of the room, even though it's not his own bar? I don't understand. My expression must have shown it, because I smiled. It appeared at the corner of his mouth.

 

"I have a share here."

 

You've scattered your money in many different places, haven't you?

 

"Besides that, this shop is very useful. Any other questions?"

 

"Why did you call me here? You didn't just call me to watch a movie, did you?"

 

"Maybe that's it. I needed someone as incompetent as you."

 

"..."

 

"But you're right, I have other reasons."

 

"what"

 

"What do you expect?"

 

He released his hand from my neck and looked up, his smiling eyes curving into crescents as he gazed at me. But the smile in his eyes didn't match his usual expression. Therefore, I couldn't determine if his words were playful, especially not the questions that followed, even though he had only lowered his voice slightly more than usual.

 

"You're imagining I'll suddenly attack you, shove my thing inside you, and thrust violently, huh?" 

 

What the hell is this guy spouting? I admit he's stronger than me, but I couldn't contain my anger, so I put aside the best option of ignoring him and responded to his provocation instead.

 

"Yeah, how did you know? I just imagined shoving that in and thrusting hard," I said, flashing the same beaming smile at him.

 

"Like, in a way that I'm the one taking you."

 

I lowered my gaze and deliberately glanced at his lower body, from his form-fitting black trousers and matching belt buckle to his flat stomach. The white shirt was tucked into the trousers, slightly taut. My gaze slowly traced up the thin fabric that concealed the firm chest, eventually meeting those dark eyes. The moment I saw the emotionless gaze, so different from the slightly smiling lips, a shiver ran down my spine, a pang of regret overwhelming me. But my inherent nature suppressed those feelings, a nature that clung to fear and tried to fight back when faced with someone strong provoking me.

 

"Well, I guess I can manage to bring myself to have you this one time." I deliberately responded in a harsh tone, trying to appear unfazed, thinking that although not sarcastic, my words would provoke the other person more. So I looked him straight in the eye. The moment I felt a light flash in his eyes, I heard a question.

 

"Just once? That's a shame, but for me, it was good."

 

"What's so good?" I stared intently, unconsciously. The other person tilted their head to the side and flashed a mischievous grin, as if something amusing had happened.

 

"If you have to hold your breath just once to have me, it means that even if I, who really want to be the aggressor, want you, it wouldn't be a big deal, right?"

 

"Don't talk nonsense."

 

"Why? Isn't it fair? The one who wants it gets to take it."

 

He stopped smiling and continued speaking with a straight face.

 

"I could hold my breath and have you ten thousand times over."

 

I glared at him fiercely, suppressing the insults that threatened to be hurled at me, even though I thought the turmoil was a sign of defeat, but I couldn't help but say something harsh. To be honest, I'm not used to this kind of situation at all. Five years ago, very few people could stir my emotions like this. Even knowing what Myungshin did, I managed to suppress my surging anger quite well. So I'm surprised at how I reacted to his words.

 

"That's just your opinion."

 

"Doesn't that reflect your thinking too? You said you could only do it once by holding your breath. Since I wanted to, I volunteered to do it for you. You should be thankful. Let's do it."

 

What kind of logical fallacy is this? I stared at him, spouting nonsense without any remorse, and then realised he was the one who tried to extort 200 yen. A whimper from the lingering cigarette... Ah, yes, I'm dealing with this lunatic, aren't I?

 

"Then reflect that thought as well. I don't want you to fuck me."

 

"Why"

 

I was taken aback by his seemingly innocent question.

 

"Well, I never intended to sleep with you in the first place...and besides," I paused before giving the most important reason.

 

"I've always been the one to take it."

 

He removed the indifference from his eyes and straightened up when he heard my answer.

 

"That's interesting... Is it always like this?"

 

His voice softened before he smiled gently, as if pleased about something.

 

"So you're saying that no one has ever been able to 'seat' you before?"

 

I was strangely annoyed by his insistence, but felt I had to answer clearly to maintain my dignity, so I nodded and replied.

 

"Of course. Someone will..."

 

That's all I could say before something suddenly flashed through my mind. A haunting scene moved before me like a colour screen flashing through a black-and-white video—a memory of me straddling and rocking on someone in a dimly lit motel. Damn it. A memory from five years ago surfaced, along with that one sentence. I think it might have been when I was handing out flyers. I wore a mascot mask to a motel with a guy I met by chance, and I ended up straddling him while still wearing the mask.

 

It happened only once... even though it was the only time in my life I let someone sneak up behind me, I remember it vividly. The darkness in my head, the mascot costume I'd worn for so long, it was damp and uncomfortable, the narrow field of vision through tiny holes, and the feeling of everything in front of me turning completely white. It must have been because I was crying; the dampness all over my face dripped down my chin along with the sweat, to the point where I could barely see what was in front of me. He finally realised it. Probably because he was crying, he couldn't think about the other side. Or maybe he didn't consider it important.

 

"Speak up."

 

I jumped and looked up at the sudden loud noise. He urged me on with a strangely cold gaze.

 

"Just one person, whatever."

 

".."

 

"I told you to keep talking."

 

I spoke without thinking when I heard the firm command.

 

"There is... one person."

 

Just one person. I swallowed my last words as the question arose: Who was that other person really? Those memories that once made me cry. It was so overwhelming that I couldn't think of anything else around me. Strangely, the lingering feeling was more in my heart than in my brain. It was a slight unease, as if the other person were someone I knew, and as if there were something special about them.

 

I unconsciously tried to recall that memory, and then realised the atmosphere around me had become quiet. When I glanced up, I saw him… He stared at me with the same emotionless expression as he did at the company. Silence fell, more awkward than when he had said those discouraging things to me. I was glad that my confession had probably dampened his interest, and then I spoke curtly.

 

"But there's only one person. Usually, I'm the one who makes the first move. And it will be the same next time..."

 

"who"

 

His voice was flat, yet I could sense a palpable pressure, like a dark knife slicing through flesh. Because of that, I foolishly repeated the question, even though I knew what he meant. What are you asking about?

 

"Who is that?"

 

"Who was that one person? The one who got you?"

 

"You don't need to know this."

 

"Why? Is it because you love someone enough to change your position from the dominant one to the subordinate one?" If I had heard that question at any other time, I might have burst out laughing. But seeing the smile fade from his face, I frowned.

 

"Are you kidding me?"

 

"I have told you I don't like to joke around, so answer me."

 

A surge of irritation and resistance flared up again. I intended to say, "Why should I answer?" but, realising he was serious, I hesitated. Even though I wondered why he was being so serious, I answered, annoyed that he kept pestering me with questions until he finally gave me an answer.

 

"There's no way it's love. Are you satisfied now?"

 

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

 

"..."

 

"I really like that strap."

 

He gave me a slight smirk as I stared at him.

 

"The reason you did it was more important to you than to them, wasn't it? I'm getting increasingly curious. Who was that guy who got to have you?"

 

"Stop paying attention to it."

 

"no"

 

He hesitated slowly before moving away from the wall and taking another step closer.

 

"Of course, I'd be concerned about paying a deposit for something that's non-refundable."

 

He turned and walked towards the table with a question.

 

"Isn't it natural for me to wonder who it is that could make someone like you willingly surrender yourself?"

 

"Do you know anything about my personality?"

 

"I knew you weren't the type to get revenge just because Choi Youngshin ran off with your money five years ago," he stopped in front of the computer and said casually to me. But I couldn't sit there comfortably listening. How did he know that? Han-Soo? Or the manager? "I don't remember ever telling those two that this was 'five years ago.'

 

While I stood there frozen, he lightly tapped on the keyboard with one hand and continued.

 

"Of course, if it were you five years ago, who didn't even finish high school, and then joined a gang of street racers and became a thug collecting money for a loan company..."

 

"You might do that, though."

 

"Oh, if it's you, the one who squanders hard-earned money on partying, habitually getting into fights, acting arrogant and cocky, and also enjoying brandishing knives..."

 

"If I were just going around aimlessly, I'd probably be looking for him and throwing a punch."

 

He pressed the keyboard with a final "click" sound, then glanced up as if finally finishing the task at hand.

 

"It's just like everyone else's story, isn't it?"

 

"...How did you know?"

 

My past is not something to be left behind as a record or anything like that. No matter how wicked I may have been, those stories only remain in the memories of the people who knew me and me. Moreover, I haven't contacted anyone for five years and have become a forgotten figure. Therefore, it's very difficult to find someone to ask about my past.

 

The blood in my veins ran cold, and goosebumps covered my entire body. This feeling overwhelmed me even before I realised the other party was an enemy and fought back. His words instilled more apprehension than shock. When I questioned him, he opened his mouth slowly, keeping me on the edge of my seat.

 

"I see your work history starts almost five years ago, right? So that means something changed you five years ago, didn't it? I saw it in your resume, so I used it to investigate your family relationships."

 

I tried to stop him from speaking, as if not doing so would mean hearing words I didn't want to hear, but he was faster than I was. His voice, sounding bored, asked. It was as if it wasn't a big deal to me.

 

"Is the fact that your mother and brother are the reason you've changed?"

 

Thump! Crash!

The moment I stood up, the stack of documents beside me crashed to the floor. I couldn't hear anything, and my heart began to beat strangely fast. The emotionless, dark eyes staring at me seemed to know everything about me. Though my mind told me it was impossible, I held my breath for a moment, like an idiot. It might sound strange, but it's terrifying. My mind, which I've lived for five years without feeling anything, might be filled with darkness.

 

The large lump of guilt that forms can grow even larger the more one suppresses greed, expends physical effort, or shows little remorse. Before long, I find myself returning to the emptiness that has overshadowed me for five years. Even though I've suppressed all my feelings, the fleeting fear that surfaces doesn't easily disappear.

 

"To be honest, I don't believe it."

 

He, seeking an answer from my silence, narrowed his eyes slightly.

 

"For you, was the death of your family such a big deal that it changed everything about you?"

 

"...no"

 

"No."

 

I explained in a calm voice.

 

"They're no different from strangers."

 

I thought I'd hear the question, 'Then why?' but he looked at me before averting his gaze to the TV, his hand reaching for the remote control—I don't know when he'd picked it up.

 

"Come on," he said, switching modes on the big TV screen.

 

"I called you here to watch a movie, that's true, but I also wanted to give you a little reward." He should have switched to the desired screen by now, so he put down the remote and smiled again.

"I heard you went to have a photoshoot with photographer P from Studio XX. Is that true?"

 

"Who did you hear that from?" Chief Park's face immediately flashed through his mind before his attention was diverted by his words.

 

"I don't know how you convinced the photographer, but everyone at Dream's headquarters is thrilled," he said. 

 

"Because I decided to do a nude photoshoot as a way of giving back." But for some reason, I felt that revealing the reason would just cause more trouble, so I just looked at him silently before asking.

 

"And what is the prize?"

 

An image appeared on the screen along with a question. It was a picture of a small room, taken with a camera mounted in a corner of the ceiling. I frowned. My brows furrowed immediately upon seeing that the person in the room was me, and I was even wearing the same clothes I was wearing now. Looking closer, this seemed to be the room the club manager had shown me the first time. There were cameras, too? When I glanced back at him in surprise, he opened his mouth without taking his eyes off the screen.

 

"I expected something interesting, because you used to be so cocky," he said, still smiling despite the disappointment in his voice. I heard my own voice coming from the TV saying, 'Get lost!'

 

"What is this? Are you testing me?"

 

I glared at him, unable to hide my annoyance. He scrolled through pictures quickly, as if bored, glancing at me occasionally.

 

"yes"

 

"What right do you have?"

 

"Well, since you don't offer a return policy, I had to test the waters."

 

I had nothing to say in response to that shameless remark. While I regretted having chosen the wrong person, it occurred to me that this wasn't the reward he was talking about. Even though he said it was a reward, it should have been something other than this frustrating situation. I turned back to watch TV. About thirty minutes passed on the screen, and I got up. I looked at the paused screen and understood what he was talking about. There might be hidden cameras in other rooms besides mine. And the question I asked him earlier popped into my head.

 

"...How did you know?"

 

No one around me knows my past, except for one person.

 

"So you're secretly watching Myungshin like this?"

 

When I asked him bluntly, I felt him narrow his eyes before giving me a wide, eye-crinkling smile.

 

"You're quite talented."

 

I don't know why I get more irritated every time he compliments me. When I give him a hurried look, telling him to hurry up and show me what it is, he just smiles widely, his dimples showing, and the screen changes.

 

Two men were sitting close together in a room twice the size of the one I used to stay in. The shorter one was Myungshin, and the one with his arm around his shoulder was the man who came into the room and whom I told to get out a second time.

 

"Do you use a stage name? Why do you use that name?"

 

The man asked, slowly stroking Myungshin's thigh. Myungshin spoke with his eyes closed, as if savouring the sensation. He must be drunk or in a trance, from the hands that are currently touching.

 

"Hmm...it's nothing. It's just the name of someone I used to know."

 

"Someone you used to know? Must be someone you used to like," Myungshin, who was weakly hugging the other person, lifted his body and burst into laughter.

 

"Used to like him? Haha. Uh, yes, I used to. He looked so cool back then, at that concert when I was really young."

 

"How is that cool?"

 

"He didn't even finish high school, then he joined a motorcycle gang and became a thug collecting money for a loan company."

 

The words that that lunatic had said about me poured out of Myungshin's mouth.

"He squanders his hard-earned money on partying, habitually getting into fights, showing off and acting tough, and enjoying brandishing a knife all day long. Think about it. Now, they're pathetic. But back then, I was just a kid. Why? Well, I just thought that tough-looking guy was cool. He was really determined. Seven of them weren't tall, but he never lost to guys bigger than himself."

 

The other person's gaze in the room, fixed on me, made my skin sting, but I remained focused on the screen. Then the man's hand moved down towards Myungshin's crotch. To arouse him, he did so while skillfully asking further questions.

 

"Hmm, it looks like you're really pursuing that person, huh? I heard you said you liked them. Weren't you living together?"

 

Myungshin twisted slightly as the man's hand lightly brushed against his crotch.

 

"Yes, we used to live together because he was good to me. Ah, stop asking questions and just get it over with," Myungshin twitched his hips as if pleading, shifting his crotch against the hand that was moving. The man chuckled softly, seemingly amused by Myungshin's actions. Then, he caressed the bulge in his pants as desired.

 

"If that person treated you well, then why did you break up? Don't tell me you were dumped."

 

The man chuckled and whispered playfully in Myungshin's ear. The sound was very soft, but I still managed to hear it. Myungshin surely heard it clearly, too. He responded with a flushed face, aroused through his clothes.

 

"No, I dumped it. To be blunt, I ran off with the money. Uh, hurry up!"

 

Myungshin raised his voice as if he couldn't take it anymore. The man then skillfully unzipped his pants with one hand before reaching into his bulging underwear. The moment a passionate moan escaped Myungsin's lips, the man quickly moved his hand to caress it while continuing to ask questions without stopping.

 

"You stole the money, and that man never even looked for you? He should have seen Mr Yoo-hon on TV by now, shouldn't he?" 

 

Myungshin's heavy groaning stopped abruptly before he grabbed the man's wrist forcefully with an expressionless face. Myungshin's demeanour completely changed, suddenly, as if he were a different person. I narrowed my eyes and took a step forward. It was an expression I hadn't seen in five years. No, it was an expression he would never, ever show. The cold, piercing gaze made the man freeze.

 

"Why are you asking such pointed questions?"

"I was just wondering... Oh!"

 

Myungshin twisted the man's wrist and lifted it into the air. The tendons bulged on his muscular arm, a stark contrast to his previous emaciated, bony arm.

 

"Just curious, that's all."

 

"Yes, that's all."

 

The man was so large that he could have easily shaken Myungshin off if he had exerted any force, but he didn't. Instead, a smile spread across his face.

 

"Actually, I'm jealous. I want to know who that handsome ex-boyfriend is, the one whose name you borrowed."

 

Myungshin stared at the other person coldly, still holding their wrist, then his demeanour and expression changed abruptly.

 

"I see you're still as sweet-talking as ever, but..."

 

Myungshin released the other person and placed his hand on the man's cheek, drawing the man's face closer. After that, I could barely hear the voice, which had faded to a whisper, but...It should probably be something like this.

 

'I won't forgive you next time.'

 

The man nodded with an embarrassed smile. Then Myungshin immediately lowered his shoulders, spread his legs, and gave an order.

 

"I'm hooked because of you. Suck on it."

 

The man sat down between Myungshin's legs and lowered his head without hesitation. Soon, Myungshin's expression returned to its usual flushed state, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back. He then stroked the man's head with his hand while moaning. The sounds of lips sucking on a penis and Myungshin's heavy breathing echoed from the TV for a while. The scene that bored me so much I fell asleep passed without me fast-forwarding, but I didn't complain because I assumed there was a reason the idiot would let the video continue. And just as I expected, Myungshin, breathing heavily with each passing moment, clutched the other's hair and mumbled something.

 

"Ah, suck harder. Today I'm... ugh... irritated because that President Choi, that big, ugly, worthless guy, is boasting about being lucky enough to get his picture taken, and then bragging that his company handled his case..."

"Objecting, huh? Ah!"

 

He trembled and let out a moan, as if about to ejaculate, while speaking. Only when his body calmed down did Myungshin release his grip on the man's head. And as the lust subsided, he released the other's head. The man coughed for a while as if having difficulty breathing, before Youngshin showed an apologetic expression and stroked his face.

 

"My dear, you're the best at this."

 

The man wiped his lips with the back of his hand and chuckled at the remark before rolling his eyes slightly. For a moment, I felt like he was looking at the camera, but he stood up, stretched, and immediately sat down in the chair. After sitting down next to Myungshin and pressing some buttons on the table, he raised his glass of liquor and took a sip. He seemed well-trained to handle this situation as if nothing had happened, and even continued asking questions casually.

 

"Did you say you got Chairman Choi fired from his position as manager?"

 

"Yes, at first I thought he was going to be kicked out of the company, but it seems he's picked up some troublemaker from somewhere. That's why I'm worried."

 

Myungshin frowned before bursting into laughter. "But anyway, once he enrols in the company-sponsored classes, it'll hurt even more."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"Ah... I sent one of my obedient people, ordered him to crush that guy. President Choi is trying to mould him into a complete failure. Sigh. And then I decided to come here." As soon as Myungshin finished speaking, there was a knock on the door, as if it had been waiting, followed by a voice announcing that a guest was waiting. The man pressed a button, presumably a signal. Something happened, and then the door opened, revealing someone who stepped into the room. The screen froze before the face was revealed.

 

"This is all the gift I have."

 

The voice of that lunatic pulled me back to reality before I looked away from the TV. I asked him the most important question first.

 

"When was this taken?"

 

If it was after the manager called, it must have been today. It must have just happened recently.

"While you're watching the movie."

 

Or... did he intentionally make me watch a movie while he extracted information from Myungshin? No, it's too much of a coincidence to be true. What if Myungshin hadn't come here? And the words...The answer is revealed in his next explanation.

 

"Normally, the actors from Dream are regulars here. Moreover, it's a one-hundred-per-cent booking system. Do you think I hold a share of that?"

 

"Is this just for free?"

 

Suddenly, I remembered what he said about this shop being very useful. He meant it was good for keeping an eye on actors like this, right? The more I get to know him, the more I can't help but think He's just another troublemaker, but the situation here is more urgent. I asked, staring at the frozen screen. "Why did you stop there?"

 

The person who came in was probably someone Myungshin called to trample on me. It's likely one of the classes I'll be attending. Even though I asked, that doesn't mean I didn't know the reason. He said that was all the gifts he had, meaning that if I wanted to see anything else, I had to pay for it first, right? The main point of my question was what he wanted, and he, being quick-witted, answered.

 

"Tell me who you are."

 

"Who are you talking about?" I didn't understand what he meant, so I stared at him intently. Then he kindly explained further.

 

"Who took you?"

 

"Answer first, then I'll show you the rest."

 

"Why do you need to know?"

 

He simply smiled and muttered, "I don't know. Should we just find it and cut off its head?"

 

"Why would you go and behead someone? They haven't caused you any trouble. You don't have to go to any trouble for me. That's just how I feel."

 

That crazy feeling was secondary. I was more bothered by the preceding sentence. Why were the words so creepy? He looked at me, my face contorted in a frown, as if I were wondering if that's the right thing to do.

 

"You don't just take action against people who cause you trouble, do you?"

I paused involuntarily. Ah, yes, I did that too. I used to resort to violence without hesitation, driven by emotion. It sounds unbelievable, but I momentarily forgot how reckless I used to be. Then I heard his question, mixed with laughter, as if he could read my expression.

 

"You aren't like that anymore, so it feels unfair to hear that?"

 

"No, it's not that it's unfair."

 

I blurted out my true feelings. When I glanced up, I saw a calm face, its smile gone, looking down at me. I felt uncomfortable with this reaction. It's better to just smile. It's better to pretend and act relaxed.

 

"Even so, I still feel sorry for you, being so grown up, yet still saying you'd decapitate someone for no reason." Luckily, my provocation made him smile again.

 

"There's no reason for it. I'm going to cut off its head to erase its memories."

 

"Why erase the memories of people you don't even know?"

 

"Well, it should be clear that he once penetrated you, and he still masturbates every day. Wouldn't it be even stranger if we just let it go?"

 

"Then why does that person still need to…"

 

I was about to lash out angrily, then remembered he was a lunatic and stopped abruptly. I couldn't stop him. I didn't understand why he was so obsessed with this, so I stared at him for a while, wondering if he had any ulterior motives or was eyeing something, but I couldn't think of anything at all. However, the look in his eyes, as he gazed at me, was now laced with malice.

 

"Stop paying attention to him. He's not looking at you and masturbating at the same time."

 

"Yes, I'm interested."

 

A soft voice came from him, as unsettling as that smile. He scrutinised my face as he explained discreetly...

 

"Anyone who drools on my toy, I'm going to stomp on them." The toy... he seemed clearly intent on playing with me, but his actions suggested otherwise.

 

"Don't worry, I won't touch your head. I'll leave your memories as they are."

 

I became even more suspicious. Did he have ulterior motives?

 

"Just tell me. It's a simple matter, isn't it?"

 

The persuasive, soft voice was strangely unsettling. So I went back even though I was still feeling stressed.

 

"If it's so easy, why don't you do it yourself? Go find someone who's had sex with you and cut off their head!"

 

"Do you think anyone has ever slept with me?"

 

That's right. I unconsciously agreed in my mind before murmuring softly.

 

"Then why don't you go find someone you used to be with?"

 

"Currently searching."

 

I glanced up, thinking he was joking, but immediately knew he wasn't. A sly smile was playing on his lips, but his eyes were no longer smiling. The moment Seeing that, I immediately disagreed and made a sarcastic remark.

 

"How much are you looking for?"

 

"alone"

 

".."

 

"Are you surprised?"

 

Actually, I was surprised. If what he said about not liking to joke is true, then it's really surprising. Just the calm tone that followed surprised me even more.

 

"The only man I've slept with until now is him, and even then it was just once."

 

I was surprised I couldn't answer him immediately. On the other hand, I was puzzled because it was contradictory. Judging from his past statements, I was sure he didn't feel the same way. He wasnt anti-men, to the point of wondering if his casual comments about wanting this or that indicated he enjoyed men more, which is why it didn't fit the phrase 'just once'. He may not have had a lot of sexual experience, but at least he seems like the type of person who's willing to have fun when it's his choice. But finding one person I'd only slept with 'once' didn't fit in with him. Moreover, there was only one. I'm almost never wrong about people stronger than me, so I automatically frowned.

"You don't have a preference for men, do you?"

 

If the whole situation didn't work out for him, then there was only one answer: he had simply veered off course once. He agreed with that. To summarise, I was completely exhausted.

 

"yes"

 

It's a simple answer, but hearing it raises more questions. If someone sleeps with you even though their ideal partner isn't a man, the other person must be attractive.

How intense could it be? To the point where he couldn't forget it and kept searching for her. And it wasn't exactly pure love either. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I frowned again.

 

"That doesn't suit you at all. Falling for a guy who's not your type to the point of needing to chase after him just because you slept together and can't forget him..." 

 

Then I realised there's the opposite case too.

 

"I didn't search for him because I fell in love."

 

"Oh, really?"

 

The friendly smile still lingered on his face, but the words that came out of his mouth sent a shiver down my spine.

 

"That guy really pissed me off."

 

Even though I don't know what happened, I feel sorry for that person. He looked like he'd dig a grave that day if he got caught. That guy is a real fool. Or maybe not. Learn to choose your opponents wisely before you make someone angry. But seeing that smiling face, you wouldn't know he's a lunatic. Thinking about it, I knew all along, but still let him fool me; maybe I'm even dumber. I'm worrying about someone I don't know for no reason. Then I noticed something strange. Why is he making such a fuss about wanting me when he doesn't even like men? Ah... I guess that's it. Even if he doesn't want a man, he's doing it just to torment me, huh? I'm even more annoyed now.

 

"Then go find the person who makes you so angry and go sleep with them. Don't bother me." I wanted to end the conversation, so I blurted that out before hearing his characteristic slow voice.

 

"That's his business, and you're your business."

 

"What did you say?"

 

"Why are you suddenly acting so stupid? I mean, you're the second one, the guy I consider to have slept with."

 

"Are you saying I harassed someone who's so important?"

 

What a kind and gentle voice it was, yet I felt a shiver down my spine and instinctively took a step back. A difficult example: simply staring at the other person made them stop smiling, adopt a neutral expression, and add a harsh tone.

 

"Therefore, you can't escape. I won't make the same mistake twice."

 

I received a call from my manager on my way home. He excitedly delivered that Myungshin had called Chief Park.

 

"Now I can attend class without Myungshin getting in my way."

 

I felt the glint of triumph in his voice, a small taste of victory. It was ironic that after hearing that I had to officially start classes in a week, my thought as I was about to adjust my phone was, "A whole week to wait?" The manager didn't know about the other bullying by Myungshin, but I did, and I didn't feel like it was a big deal. Maybe it was because I had more important things to worry about, and his casual words still lingered in my head.

 

"There's no escaping it."

 

I don't need to hide, and I'm not weak enough to run away either. That statement is a little chilling. No, more than a little chilling. What I meant was his expression and the look in his eyes at that moment, and the atmosphere in the room. It was as if he was bending down to dismember an animal with a knife in his hand, and I was the big piece of meat to be sliced. Yes, he wasn't the type of person to make a mistake twice. That's why I felt even more terrified.

 

Before I knew it, I could see the entrance to the alleyway leading to my rented room, which I now call home. The thought of that small, one-person room with no bathroom made me drowsy. The sudden onset of drowsiness easily swept away my unnecessary anxiety. It had nothing to do with me anyway, because there was no way he would come to harass me. Thanks to the manager and Han-soo for having so much time for me; I received a lot of basic advice from both of them in one week. The manager also came and went during that time.

 

I spent half the day alone, and before leaving, I came back with my profile picture in my hand. I looked at it nervously, as if I were seeing someone else's photo, but those two were very excited and complimented it enthusiastically.

 

"Wow, that's a completely different person!"

 

"Isn't it great? The photos turned out fantastic, didn't they?"

 

"he's no joke! he looks even more charming in the photos. He's incredibly photogenic; he looks a hundred times better in person!"

 

"Yeah, he's incredibly photogenic... If you saw him in person after seeing the pictures, you'd probably say he doesn't look like the photos at all, right, Taemin?"

 

A sudden silence fell over them. Both of them noticed my cold gaze and held the picture suspended in mid-air, then turned sharply away.

 

"Hmm, looking closely, he doesn't seem as handsome in real life as he is in person."

"It's like taking pictures with your feet!"

 

"No... I didn't use my feet to take the picture. But! It's true that I don't look as handsome as I do in real life. Ahem. Even a professional photographer couldn't capture Taemin better than the real thing."

 

"Really? Uh, haha."

 

"Right? Even if it's a photographer... Oh, come to think of it, the photographer sent me a voice message yesterday. Damn it! I quit..."

 

I pressed play on the message app and heard a nauseating voice saying something like, "I really want to get intimate with my darling." I almost blurted out, "What the heck?!"

 

The manager flinched and narrowed his eyes upon hearing Han-Soo's extremely angry tone.

 

"Wait a minute, did that guy really spout such nonsense on the phone?"

 

"Oh, or maybe my manager gave them my number?"

 

As soon as Han-soo asked, the manager waved his hand in denial with a bewildered expression.

 

"No, actually, I didn't intend to give you my number. But he insisted on asking for Taemin's number, saying he needed it for work. He threatened not to give me the photos if I didn't. So I told them it was the number of an actor I manage, and then I gave them my number first..."

 

"So you gave him your number, huh? Argh! Don't you remember I even had a fight with him back in high school when I was raving about wanting to be a star? He said to my face that he wouldn't take my picture because I wasn't his type. So I cursed him out and lashed out. That's why the photographer got so worked up and went on a rampage."

 

The manager tilted his head, listening to Han-Soo's rapid-fire, furious speech.

 

"Oh, really? What did you curse him with back then?"

 

"...said he would be abandoned for life."

 

"You were right in your prediction. Are you Nodradamus?"

 

"Well, how was I supposed to know he'd be getting dumped one after another like that?"

 

"That's right. It's fate, isn't it?"

 

While the two of them went to discuss the fate of photographer P, I pulled out one photograph and examined it closely. It was an image of someone staring straight ahead at a specific angle. Chin down and face slightly tilted. It's not a picture with a cool pose or a big smile, but a very ordinary photograph, the most awkward of all. This picture reflects a different side of me than the others. I remember the moment this picture was taken; the photographer kept asking me to do this and that, and told me to use my memory to capture the facial expressions.

 

"Imagine the person you hate most in the world is standing right in front of you," I replaced the camera lens, which was turned towards me, with the face of that person flashing before my eyes for a fleeting moment.

 

Click, click. The face vanished with the shutter sound, but the photographer's expression as he lowered his camera revealed my emotions. His gaze, fixed on me as if fascinated by something, held no trace of hatred in the photograph. Because of this, even though it wasn't outwardly expressed, there seemed to be some lingering feeling in the image.

 

"Do you like that picture?"

 

When I glanced up, I saw Han-Soo sitting across from me, leaning in to look at the picture in his hand. The manager sitting next to him also leaned forward and craned his neck to look, as if curious.

 

"Ah, that photo is the one the photographer said he liked and chose. It turned out really well, didn't it? It gives off a sense of complexity. Actually, it should..."

 

"I chose a picture of you smiling as my profile picture, but I don't know why I'm so drawn to this one. Han-Soo, what do you think?" Han-Soo held up the picture to examine it carefully, as his manager had asked.

 

"Hmm, it looks strong..."

 

He, who had been observing with the air of an expert, glanced up and added.

 

"But he looked sad."

 

He looked at me as if seeking my opinion, then immediately handed the photo to his manager standing beside him. The manager, scrutinising the picture, nodded in agreement before the two whispered something to each other. But I couldn't hear what they were saying. I just kept looking at the photograph the manager had given me, meeting my own gaze in the picture. Even though in real life I was facing the face I hated most, the face that he had taken, I felt nothing now.

 

The day before class, I received the same message as before.

 

[Come now!]

 

I was annoyed by his sudden, unannounced summons, but I got up and went to the same shop we'd been to before, feeling a little pathetic for following his orders.

He spoke obediently, like a dog, but strangely, I felt no resentment whatsoever. I'd never felt any joy at meeting him, nor did I dislike him. Why? And every time I faced him, I'd get angry. I pushed aside my suspicions, and I had arrived at the entrance, where I was recognised immediately by the guards who had seen me before.

 

"Two hundred won, sir. I've been informed that you'll be coming."

 

I stopped walking and assessed the guard's height. If I jumped from here, would I hit his head? Would I forget that 200 won thing if I did that? While deep in thought, he led me towards a back entrance, different from the one we'd used before. Following him into the long corridor on the first floor, I saw a slightly narrower staircase.

 

"Walk down this path, and someone will be waiting for you at the bottom."

He bowed his head and gestured politely. I thanked him with a slight nod before descending the stairs. He offered his help and supported me from behind until the very last second. "Have a pleasant time, Mr Two Hundred Won."

 

I acknowledged the farewell and walked downstairs, where someone I didn't recognise was indeed waiting. A face I didn't know greeted me with a wide smile.

 

"Welcome, Mr Two Hundred Won."

 

I glanced at him before realising it was annoying and that it was too late to correct the name. The place the waiter took me to wasn't the same room I'd been to before, but there were still some familiar hallways. It was the maze-like exit that most of the waiters used, but this time I simply walked past the room where I'd encountered that lunatic. After walking a short distance, a waiter knocked on a door. He took a step back and signalled for me to enter.

 

"He's waiting inside."

 

The situation is similar to what happened a week ago. I asked the same question I asked the club manager back then.

 

"Who's waiting inside?" And this time I heard the answer immediately.

 

"Sir."

 

"Has that guy's guardian shown up?" While I was opening the door with crazy thoughts, I suddenly heard a gruff voice.

 

"Are you the one who flirted with Jay with the 200 won?"

 

The one picking a fight was the man standing across the street, his expression menacing. He was an older man in his forties, unusually muscular, the kind you'd see often at a gym. He crossed his arms and glared at me as I walked in from downstairs upstairs. 

 

"Is he really his guardian?" I smirked. If I had to pick someone who absolutely didn't need a guardian, I'd recommend that lunatic without a second thought. But this old man's appearance was more like the mastermind behind all the secret schemes, wasn't it? So, it would be more appropriate if the question came from someone infatuated with him and who considered me a rival, rather than from this old man's reprimand.

 

"What? It doesn't seem like much."

He spoke in a displeased tone before walking closer to me and examining this area and that area.

 

"What kind of flirting is this?"

 

His questions were so irritating that I just gave a vague answer.

 

"Spend the money."

 

"What!"

 

He was startled and took a step back, as if genuinely shocked.

 

"Uh...how much did you flirt?"

 

"...two hundred won"

 

His eyebrows twitched like an earthworm's as he stared at me for a moment, before his expression changed and he spoke in a low voice. What's going on? This time, I was the one frowning.

 

"Two hundred won isn't an amount of money, it's your name. So you're implying you're using yourself to flirt with that guy, right? You know I like poetry, so you deliberately used it."

 

"Is that how you think you can get votes? Where did you get all that information about me from?"

 

What nonsense are you talking about? I've only just seen your face for the first time, but it's too late to make amends.

 

"Okay, I appreciate your effort, but that's still not enough hope."

 

He spoke of my seemingly insignificant efforts, then crossed his arms and scrutinised me again. I was speechless, so I silently observed him. The other person had confidence shining through his eyes and face, as did his well-built physique.

 

"The people who enter Jay's office must be special. Jay never even glances at the top-tier employees of this shop, especially men! Then show me with your own eyes that you're superior to them."

 

What nonsense are you talking about? I'm suppressing my frustration.

 

"Why would I do that?"

He responded immediately, as if he already knew I would ask that question.

 

"Otherwise, you won't be able to come here again," was the most encouraging thing I'd ever heard.

 

"That's completely irrelevant."

 

His eyebrow twitched again.

 

"Surprised, aren't you?"

 

I blurted out something stupid, "What?" But that was the best thing to say in the situation. My face must have looked really stupid.

 

"It's irrelevant? Are you saying that no matter how much I try to stop you, you're going to come here to see Jay regardless?"

 

"No, it's... uh..."

 

"So you've admitted it, huh? That's more like a real man!"

 

Accept whatever you want, but please try to listen to what people have to say. However, people who absolutely refuse to listen usually have so much that they just keep talking nonstop. I guess I'll have to get the better of me and shut him down...

 

"Okay, I'll keep an eye on you for now."

 

The situation ended in a shocking way when he concluded it himself in a deep, powerful voice. I carefully examined his eyes; he was high on drugs. Or so I thought. I observed every nook and cranny with a suspicious gaze, but I could only conclude something I didn't want to hear. His eyes were too clear for his age. Even more shocking was that he spoke like that with full awareness. I was bewildered before I even heard his question.

 

"Feel free to ask me anything you're wondering about."

 

When asked, with a questioning expression, if that was what he was wondering about, he explained as if he were feeling uncomfortable.

 

"You've passed the incredibly tough first interview here, so I'm going to tell you one thing you were wondering about." I was more interested in the words "passed the first interview" than in everything he told me. So that means there will be another interview? He wondered if this might be a trap set by that lunatic as he asked.

 

"Hey...what's that Jay guy's name?"

 

"HIs name? Well, it's Jay."

 

"Isn't that an English name? He must have a real name."

 

The boss reacted unexpectedly, so I was worried he would ask himself another question, but I didn't hear him say anything. He stared at me for a long time, until I felt Strange.

 

He murmured softly. "Real name... I didn't expect you to ask that. This 200 won guy is as extraordinary as his name," I pretended not to hear his exaggerated claim.

 

"Jay is both an English and a Korean name."

 

I don't know why, but after he finished explaining, he sighed before speaking again.

 

"Yoo, whose real name is Hanjay."

 

After uttering that name, his face, which had been staring blankly at the air for a moment, showed an inexplicable sadness. Why would he make that face at a name? But then he realised...His tendency to overreact eventually dispelled that suspicion. Well...it's probably nothing. But if that lunatic's last name is Jay, then at least he's probably not Director Yoon, right?

 

"Isn't it cute?"

 

He asked in a sudden brightening tone, changing the atmosphere as quickly as a madman would.

 

"What?"

 

"What's the name? Heh heh. Actually, when Jay was a kid, he hated his name, but when he went to America, they told him he didn't have to think of a nationalistic name anymore, so he liked it like an innocent kid. He, of course, he's a handsome and kind person, just like his name suggests. Especially his smiling face, he's like a god, isn't he?"

 

"...Who is it?"

 

"I meant Jay. Jay? What are you talking about? How dare you think of something else after I've already said that?"

 

"No, it's not..."

"I'm asking for a month's notice. Lying to my face won't work. I know everything. I've seen everything." He curled two fingers and pointed to his eyes, then to his hair.

 

"Speaking of names, it brings back memories of my own name. If I had a unique name like 'Two Hundred Won,' I'd probably be a bitter, good-for-nothing. There are so many of you, aren't there? Why? Did someone bully you just to get 200 won to buy coffee from a vending machine?"

 

Was he talking nonsense? When I gave up on responding and stared at him with a stunned expression, he immediately misunderstood my silence.

 

"Ah, really? I understand. Prices are going up these days, but buying through a vending machine doesn't get you ridiculed, does it? It's a name that really reflects the times. And there it's modern, isn't it?"

 

He rambled on about nonsense and was impressed by himself, like a lunatic in a different sense than a madman. No, this bar is for crazy people. Is that all? I questioned his drug use again, but luckily, he ended the conversation abruptly with his clear eyes.

 

"Okay, Jay's waiting. You can leave now."

 

He glanced at his watch and pushed me into the room. I was grabbed by the shoulder and shoved, involuntarily turning back to open the door. Though we hadn't spoken much, I felt more exhausted than in any conversation. I stepped forward, thinking it would be better to confront that lunatic, but before I could leave, he called out to me.

 

"Oh, that's two hundred won."

 

"..."

 

"Hmm, you were surprised just now, weren't you?"

 

Ah, damn it. I was a little startled when they called my name. Don was called "Two Hundred Won." I turned around to check if that was really my name, but it probably was. I didn't show any emotion on my face, so how did he know? I hid my puzzled expression as I asked him.

 

“Do you have anything else to say?”

 

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Keep the fact that I told you his name, Jay, a secret." 

 

Telling someone your name was a big deal, wasn't it? And it was just having the last name Han, right? Yet he emphasised it again as if it were something important.

 

"Don't tell Jay that I told you, understand? It's a secret..."

 

"What secret?"

 

The question didn't come from me. When I turned around at the sudden sound from behind me, I saw a crazy guy, I don't know who he is, leaning against the door frame.

 

"What kind of secret is it that you're not allowed to tell me?"

 

He smiled through his friendly eyes and asked softly, but the atmosphere in the room quickly turned cold. The shop owner froze, his mouth slightly agape. As if unaffected by his smile like I was, he soon cleared his throat and put on a stern expression.

 

"What are you talking about?... What secret? There's no secret. I'm talking about... what secret?" 

 

He acted as if he had revealed a hundred secrets, and there was no way that crazy person wouldn't notice. The other person looked at the boss silently before I indicated that I understood through a low voice. The boss, who had now assumed an imposing presence, relaxed his shoulders and gave the two of us orders.

 

"If you understand, then both of you can leave. And Jay, stop hanging around the shop. You work until dawn every day, and the staff are getting tired of it. You've been setting a good example and working even harder, so now I have to give you a raise! That's a real hassle, you know? It's so frustrating! Go home immediately today. When you get back, if there are any tonics or ginseng lying around, take them and go to sleep, understand? Anyway, I'm sick of the sight of you. Get out of my sight and out of my sight!"

 

The boss spoke in an irritated tone, strangely contradicting the content of his words. He angrily urged them to leave, yet in both hands I was holding two boxes of health supplements, intending to give some to that crazy guy. The boss handed them to me with a weary expression, saying no one was going to take them anymore, so I should handle it. The boxes were clearly labelled 'Jay's' in bold marker. Of course, that crazy guy didn't take them, so I reluctantly accepted them before leaving. As I was about to close the door, I heard a chilling warning.

 

"If you eat Jay's food, you'll die."

 

Thump

I placed the tonics I was carrying in both hands onto the still-cluttered desk, like a child hauling heavy bags. His office, the same one I'd visited before, was filled with books and stacks of papers. Taking up space as usual. When I first saw them, I didn't know what they were, so I didn't pay attention. But now it's clear they're the scripts my manager has been giving me to watch over the past week, and he even told me to familiarise myself with them in advance. And everything piled up all over the office is those scripts.

 

"What did you hear from the boss?"

 

I glanced at the script, then at the person who had asked the question softly. He was standing at his desk, checking his screen. Aside from the boss's typical traits, the way he treated that crazy guy was a little strange. I saw concern evident beneath his stern expression and rambling words. But why the contradiction? The boss's personality doesn't seem to explain his eccentric behaviour. But at least when he's with me, he doesn't hide his genuine concern. That means he only plays this strange role in front of those around him. I came to the quick conclusion that the crazy guy is probably rejecting it—the other person's concern, like family—before I open my mouth to explain.

 

"He asked how I flirted with you."

 

"And what did you answer?"

 

"Tell them I'm flirting with you for 200 won."

 

He slowly stretched his lips into a smile as he glanced up from the screen.

 

"That's true. So what's next?"

 

He probably asked what the boss was talking about, right? Even though the boss told me to keep it a secret, I don't really think it is. Even so… That certainly wasn't something I was going to tell you easily.

 

"And then what?"

 

When I asked him with a straight face, his smile widened.

 

"If you tell me, I'll cut your workload in half today."

 

Work, huh? Just as I was about to wonder, he threw something down in front of me. It was another flash drive. I glanced up bitterly, thinking about the short film...

Boring. He just smiled.

"Watch all ten shows, then go to the script reading room. Read them all thoroughly."

 

"..."

 

"If needed, there are plenty of tonics available. Why not drink some while you're at it?"

 

Before I knew it, he was standing in front of the door, nodding towards the tonic the boss had given me. I remembered the boss's words that I would die if I took it, and asked...

 

"How long do I have to do this?"

 

He was probably surprised that I decided not to say much, so he stared at me for a moment and then gave me that squinty-eyed smile that people usually like.

 

"Of course, keep doing it until it's finished."

 

I unconsciously glanced around the room. How many books are there in there? Excluding the half that are in English, how many would I need to read to read them all? It will probably take more than a month in total.

 

"Oh, I'll bring more tomorrow."

 

"Say whatever you want to say. I might even cut your workload in half."

 

The slow, relaxed tone of voice, combined with its captivating sound, transformed into a strange power capable of manipulating the other person. And then there was that smile... Almost no one else possessed that ability. I could have rejected him outright if my suspicions about him hadn't been showing a red signal twenty-four hours a day. I might have easily blurted out what I wanted to say without even realising it.

 

"There's nothing more to say. How long do I have to keep doing all this?"

 

At least the fake smile was gone from his eyes, but why do I see him smiling even more than before?

 

"Until I say enough."

 

You damn pestle!

 

"And if you're done with work for today, ask my permission before you go home," he said, opening the door as if to leave. So I quickly replied, "Then give me permission in advance today."

 

I just saw him get up from his desk and shut down his computer, so I confidently asked, because it meant he probably wasn't just going to be gone for a moment. I hurried, doing annoying things like calling him, but he just grabbed the half-open door and turned around with a bright smile.

 

"no"