PAYBACK BOOK 1.

Chapter 5.

The movie was really boring. I tried to keep my eyes open to avoid getting sleepy. When I looked at the clock again, it was 2 AM. I got up, my body aching because I had been watching movies for quite a while now. Tomorrow is my official class day, so my manager told me to meet him early to go over a few things. Thinking about my appointment time, if I went home now, I could probably get a couple of hours of sleep. But the problem is, I need to get some damn permission first. 

 

I grabbed the phone with its cracked screen and dialled 'that idiot'. After a few rings, a familiar woman's voice politely informed me that there was no answer. He didn't intentionally turn it off, did he? I suppressed my frustration as I stuffed the phone into my pants pocket, and then, glancing over at his desk, I saw his bag. A black suitcase, seemingly his, lay there. It looked like he hadn't left the club yet. As I went outside to check, I saw a waiter walking by. I called out to him, who was hurrying along, to stop and pointed to the room I had just come out of.

 

"Do you know where the owner of this room is?"

 

"The director is currently with a guest in the room."

 

The director? The one who said they have a share in this shop, does that mean they hold the position of director here? While I was guessing, I think I was getting confused by the word "room." Without realising it, I felt irritated that he was drinking alcohol too, but the waiter's explanation that followed made me pause.

 

"Mostly, if it's work-related, I'll be getting support here."

 

Regarding work, he worked until dawn, huh? Suddenly, the boss's words popped into my head. Those boastful words about how dedicated he was to his work, so much so that the employees looked up to him as an example, seemed to be true. Does he work this hard every single day? Whether it's in his office or entertaining guests here, it's all part of it. It was an unexpected feeling, because his arrogant, self-assured image made him seem like someone in a high-ranking position, issuing orders. 

 

In the evenings, he drank expensive liquor in fancy bars and spent money extravagantly. He projected the image of a rich kid who had never failed and was on the path to victory with his family's help. However, the plays, films, and all sorts of books about broadcasting piled up in my room say that such an idea is a prejudice of mine.

 

What exactly is his character? If it's just about inherited wealth and confidence, combined with relentless dedication and effort, that's too simplistic an answer, and I'm not satisfied with it.

 

"But I just walked past the room just now, and I saw the director go outside."

 

"Which way are you going?"

 

"Yes, of course, that..."

 

He said confidently, "Of course," then suddenly shut his mouth with a look of bewilderment. I didn't have time to figure out why the waiter acted as he knew. I paused to notice where he was because I was tired and wanted to sleep.

 

"Where are you?"

 

"It seems like there's a place he goes to regularly, but I don't know if he'll tell me..."

 

He only said that much, and then another waiter came over to ask what was going on. The first waiter then whispered something to the other; I managed to overhear a few words.

 

"There," "Do not approach," "Smiling face."

 

Even though I only heard a few words, I understood what he said. Just saying he had a smile meant something had happened to him.

 

"Angry, and maybe they should stay away from there too," the waiter who arrived later whispered something for a while before speaking up on behalf of his colleague.

 

"Uh, you're the 200 Won guy who works in the director's office, right? The director is on the rooftop right now. I'll lead you there." A polite, smiling face was in front of me, but my gaze fell on the first waiter standing beside him. He hesitated, stepping back with a hesitant look. The strange reaction was in stark contrast to my smiling colleagues, before a waiter who arrived later stepped forward and urged me to lead the way.

 

"It's easy to get lost here. Please follow me."

 

I turned to follow him, observing him with a curious look in my eyes. By the time I turned back, I was sure he was grinning. The rooftop didn't concern me much, but since I came to Cream, it's started to creep into my life. I thought I was feeling it. I was apprehensive about not having had a good experience with rooftop dining, but the waiter's smile as he guided me ahead only reinforced that concern. The two nightmares I had with that lunatic on Dream's rooftop were part of it, so I was stressed out as I walked along the rooftop, which was decorated like a garden, just like Dream's.

 

Click click

Despite trying to be as quiet as possible, my footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent night. I stood in the middle of the rooftop. It was so dark I could barely see anything, and I glanced around until I spotted a bench a little further to the left. There was a faint figure sitting there. As I approached, I saw the person leaning back comfortably in the chair, their head tilted as far back as it would go, gazing at the sky.

 

His broad shoulders, one arm resting on the chair, made his body appear larger, and the incongruous act of holding a cigarette in his mouth, perhaps a rather unsettling sight, made me sigh for a moment because of his apparent relaxation. I felt like an eyesore for a second, but I walked over and stopped a few steps away from him. I took a deep breath and tensed up. Judging from his deliberate attempts to provoke me, I guessed an insult or a punch was about to come. Surely, this is probably his go-to place for relaxation, and anyone who disturbs him will likely be punished with a merciless, smiling face. 

 

I once smoked one of his cigarettes and got attacked similarly, but this time I won't let myself get away with it. Even if it means getting my face bruised again, I want to grab him and throw him to the ground.

 

"Do you want to suck on it?"

 

"Ha?"

 

I repeated the question like an idiot, surprised by the sudden answer amidst the stress. Meanwhile, he lowered his head and pulled out a lollipop. He opened his mouth, and when I felt him start to move, I took a step back. But he just reached out his hand and offered me the lollipop he had been sucking on.

 

"Smoking is prohibited here."

 

"....”

 

"It was unexpectedly delicious."

 

I looked at his face, then at a confused, smiling expression. He simply offered me a lollipop, making me feel embarrassed for having stood there stiffly and stressed.

 

"What? You don't like sweets?" I asked him as he let out a soft, irritated sigh.

 

"Is that all?" I added, sweeping my gaze around the empty space.

 

"You don't like being disturbed when you're alone here, do you?" He took another bite of the lollipop and pressed his lips together in response to the question.

 

"Yeah, I'd start by cursing and then throw a punch."

 

"Knowing that, why did you still come in?"

 

"Because I'm not afraid of you."

 

His smile, the one he kept hidden in his mouth, looked innocent like a child's. But that was just a facade, for his eyes were shining. It gleamed and sparkled under the light like a snake.

 

"Hearing that really got me going."

 

I frowned, thinking that fighting with brute force would be better, but that only made his smile widen even more.

 

"That's the kind of expression I'm making."

 

I immediately relaxed my frown, and then he pointed his lollipop at me.

 

"That look on your face, even if I knock you down, you'll still attack again. Just seeing that makes me feel a tingle down there," he said in a soft voice, a stark contrast to his blunt words. The problem was that I unconsciously glanced down, even though I quickly looked back up. But I could see that his... thing... was slightly swollen. Damn it! The shameless guy burst out laughing, interrupting my inward cursing.

 

"No need to squint and observe so closely. If you want it so badly, I'll shove it in your mouth and let you try it yourself to see how hard it is."

 

As a man myself, I immediately understood the meaning of his words and stared at him again. Even though I knew this was a shortcut to falling into his trap, I still...Unable to control myself.

 

"If you want to get your teeth knocked out, go ahead and shove it in," I spoke in a low, threatening tone, but he just smirked.

 

"If the mouth is dangerous, then what about the back? Will the back be cut off, too?"

 

"Stop joking around."

 

"I've told you many times that I don't joke." He interrupted before his smile faded, and he stuffed a lollipop into his mouth with a straight face.

 

"Don't you understand yet what I meant when I said I wanted to? What do you think was the reason I didn't refuse your first request for help? Do you think it's because I believed that you really became worth something?" He continued speaking slowly, accompanied by a soft chuckle. "No, you're just arousing me."

 

His voice was soft, in stark contrast to the fierce and intense gaze he directed at me, a gaze I couldn't avert. It was as if he was conveying his feelings through his eyes. He really wanted to straddle me right here. I felt angry, and even more so, I got goosebumps from within because of the way his eyes were fixed on me.

 

"Don't be afraid. I'll protect that beautiful body right now."

 

"Whoever's panicking, damn it! Just protect yourself."

 

I stammered, averting my gaze. In fact, I couldn't breathe properly when our eyes met like that. Damn it.

 

"Didn't you say you'd give yourself to me? If that was a provocation first, then your retaliation was too naive." 

 

While "giving me yourself" might have meant anything, honestly, at that moment I didn't even realise it referred to sacrificing myself. Why? Really? Well, our relationship is shrouded in stress, as if every time we meet, we're bound to argue.

 

"And did the revenge go smoothly?"

 

He became indifferent as the topic changed. I should have been pleased that he was interested because I was in a position where I needed his help, but instead, nothing pleased me more than hearing a middle-aged man's teasing words face-to-face. My own ridiculous reasoning had stirred his emotions, so he decided to help me... Thinking about this, I suddenly felt like something strange was wrong, like I'd missed something. What could it be? I was lost in thought when a voice interrupted me.

 

"This is Lee Yoohan."

 

As he glanced up at the man, he spoke curtly.

 

"I'm talking, listen carefully."

 

".."

 

"I heard you're starting classes today? Have you thought of a plan to deal with it yet?"

 

I know what kind of response plan he was asking about because he was the one who showed me Myungshin's CCTV footage. Plus, he knew what was said after the video because he knew who would try to stop me.

 

"Not exactly"

 

When I gave him a short reply, he smiled, taking his smile out of his mouth in a deep grin.

 

"If you knew who was going to prank you, you should have been able to come up with a plan to deal with it immediately, right? If you want to know, I'll tell you. But, tell me what I want to know first." 

 

What did he want to know? I thought it must be a conversation with the boss, so I shook my head. I wasn't going to brag about knowing just his name. And I wasn't going to consider it a secret. Especially since I never even considered it.

 

"It's a trivial matter."

 

"I wasn't asking about that."

 

I gave him a look that asked, "Then what?" and he reminded me of my memory.

 

"The first man to take you."

 

"Why are you so curious about that?"

 

He spoke in such an unexpected way that I was truly puzzled. I felt as if he was staring into the blank air, contemplating an answer, before he slowly opened his mouth.

 

"I don't know. It's just annoying and irritating. You're irritated too, aren't you?"

 

I was about to ask what he was talking about, but I sensed an unsettling chill from the slow curve of his lips, so I instinctively swallowed my question.

 

"Isn't it like I'm sleeping with other men besides you?"

 

No, the words disappeared into my mouth again. He stood up from his seat and walked towards me with a wide smile, revealing his dimples. Then he stopped nearby before He tilted his head down slightly and whispered.

 

"Tell me how you feel."

 

I caught a faint scent of lollipop as I glanced up and then looked him straight in the eye.

 

"I don't feel anything at all."

 

"That's a shame."

 

I was taken aback by his murmur.

 

"So what can you expect from someone you punched?"

 

"Even though I punched him, he still received help from me, so of course he had some expectations."

 

I stared at him silently before realising he was teasing me. The more I got annoyed by his little provocations, the more he enjoyed it. It was strange to know that. Even knowing all this, I still couldn't control my emotions in front of him. That's why I blurted out sarcastic remarks without realising it.

 

"I don't know. Try letting me humiliate you first, then you'll see what I'm hoping for."

 

He walked towards me with a smile. Seeing the sparkle in his eyes, full of amusement, sent shivers down my spine again. I didn't need to see it in person to know for sure. His lower body must have gotten even stiffer. This bastard's really getting going, huh? But I felt the tone of his reply was slow and drawn out, judging from his gaze.

 

"If any other jerk said that, I'd probably stomp on him until he couldn't scream anymore. But why is it so cute when it's you?" 

 

Cute? Me?

 

Then he burst into laughter. I could hardly believe my ears and couldn't hide my astonishment. My expression must have entertained him even more.

 

"Is this the first time you've heard the word 'cute'?"

 

"Yes, it's more shocking than being insulted."

 

"I understand. I'll say it more often then."

 

"Hey, don't say that!"

 

I gritted my teeth and spoke, but it was no use. He just tilted his head to the side, staring intently at me.

 

"he's really cute."

 

"I told you not to..."

 

"His height and figure are perfectly matched."

 

Where exactly was the appropriate part? I still deliberately withheld the question I wanted to ask, because I felt that if I asked, I would get an answer I didn't want. But he was teasing me right in front of my face. It was as if he could read my mind.

 

"They didn't even ask where it would fit."

 

"Well, you're probably going to talk like a dog anyway."

 

"Even when scared, he's still cute."

 

"Who's scared, damn it!"

 

I cursed, and then something occurred to me, so I mumbled it out loud. It was one of the few dark words I was ever afraid of.

 

"The dessert siblings didn't make an appearance."

 

He still managed to understand me and asked.

 

"Siblings of Sweets, huh?"

 

Oh, you don't know about the terrifying Sweet Siblings story?

 

"That's right, they ate at a house made of desserts without permission. When they got caught, they killed the owner's grandmother."

 

"...Ansel and Gretel?"

 

"Hmm, I think that's the name."

 

When I nodded, he replied slowly, his voice slightly surprised.

 

"The owner of that house, an elderly woman, is a witch."

 

"Whatever it is, those guys killed someone and ran off with the money, didn't they? Those two terrifying siblings." He glared at me, then snapped his mouth shut and suddenly turned away. I don't know why he looked like he was trying to hold back laughter; this guy is the one who laughs the hardest. Therefore, it's impossible for that to happen.

 

"You're afraid of children's stories, aren't you?"

 

"Don, the kid. Don the kid."

 

I emphasised the word "you" and added that detail because I was afraid he might misunderstand.

 

"As a kid, you only briefly thought those kids were a little scary. I'm not someone who's afraid of ghosts."

 

"Really? Even if a ghost entered your house without permission and ate all the food..."

 

"How can ghosts eat food? Even if they did, they'd only eat the spirit of the food. The real food hasn't disappeared. Otherwise, every time we offer prayers, everyone would be eating it."

 

Aren't you all shocked? You're saying something nonsensical..."

 

I said it because I thought it was ridiculous. When I looked into his eyes, I realised he was teasing me. When I realised this, I made a face at him, and he turned away. He avoided my gaze once again before muttering to himself.

 

"The spirit of food... will drive me crazy." 

 

It's me who's going crazy, not him. He just started insulting me out of nowhere. I glared at him, but he just smiled at the corner of his mouth instead.

 

"I really like that expression."

 

"If I like it, I'll do it every time we meet, because just seeing you, my expression will show it."

 

"Just me?"

 

I heard him ask back playfully, so I didn't want to answer 'yes'. He murmured, his gaze deepening in an unreadable way.

 

"If you told me you didn't feel anything at all, I couldn't believe it." I didn't understand his words at first, but then I recalled our recent conversation.

 

"Aren't you upset too... that I'm with another man besides you? Isn't that what you mean?"

 

"I don't feel anything at all."

 

Does that mean he's interested in my answer? Suddenly, the harsh, crazy voice of that jerk pierced my thoughts.

 

"I saw your profile picture. You know what? Except for your expression, your face looks really tense." 

 

I replied, slightly confused by the sudden change in topic.

 

"And then what?"

 

"You're probably going to get scolded for that in class today. Should I give you a sedative injection to change it instantly?" Then he held out the lollipop he was sucking on in front of me. The lollipop froze as if about to touch my lips, and a sweet, fragrant scent wafted into my nose.

 

"No need... Keep it a secret."

 

Suddenly, a sweet aroma and taste filled my mouth. But it wasn't a small lollipop; in an instant, lips attacked me. I accidentally opened my mouth, and his sweet tongue slipped inside. I tried to turn my face away, but his hand held my head tightly before I could even react. All I could do in that situation was push him away with my arms.

 

While I tried to move my head away, his other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me close to his body. Now there was no room to push him away. While I was struggling helplessly, the tongue that had intruded into my mouth swept and penetrated deeper. It was frustrating because the first feeling that came to mind was that it was sweet. So sweet, and so deliciously irritating. The short kiss ended with just a single intertwining of tongues, and the sweet taste lingered on my lips and inside my mouth.

 

"How is it? Sweet, right?"

 

I glared up, annoyed by the question, while he smiled, his eyes crinkling. Just as I felt that this seemingly genuine, childlike smile was uncanny, I heard him speak.

 

"I wanted to evoke the emotion, to recall that sweet taste, and then to think about it again." 

 

He released my waist and stepped back, but the sensation of the touch lingered on my waist like a burn. Our bodies, pressed together, began to stiffen, and then I got emotional about something like that. Damn it, have I been deprived of that for ages? I cursed myself before he noticed my reaction and whispered something to me.

 

"Do you still not feel anything?"

 

I walked down to the basement where the classes were held, hearing the manager's worried voice ask if I hadn't slept well, as my skin looked dry and rough. The manager explained that the teacher was training to be a famous actor here, and then he grabbed me before I walked in. With a shy smile, he handed me a palm-sized voice recorder.

 

"The sound quality is good. If you record yourself to listen to later, you'll know what your voice sounds like. Oh, and recording your classes and listening to that might help too." 

 

We stood in front of a half-open door. I thanked him and took the camera, while he explained how to use it, before I went inside. Because it was still before classes started, a number of people gathered to chat. But as soon as I approached, everyone simultaneously averted their gaze. I put the voice recorder my manager gave me in my pocket and walked over to them. There were four men. The first one to strike up a conversation was the blond-haired guy with a bright personality, similar to Han-Soo.

 

"Ah, I heard there's a new student joining today. That's you, isn't it? You'll be joining our class from now on, right? I haven't been here very long myself. Please take care of me."

 

I took the hand he offered, and the man standing next to him, with his arms crossed, just sneered.

 

"I heard that Manager Choi cast you, huh? Looks like you're broke. Someone like that probably won't last even a month."

 

The ugliest guy in the group glanced at my tattered clothes from head to toe, then turned to the man standing next to him and asked something loud enough for everyone to hear.

 

"Have the standards dropped here? Where did this pathetic loser crawl out from? What a waste," 

 

The handsome man who was asked chuckled and opened his mouth to speak to me.

 

"Really eating chaff? A bit of a survivalist, huh? That kind of thing doesn't work anymore," he said coldly, pointing to the last man standing silently.

 

"That guy is a prime example. It's been four years, and he still hasn't debuted. He's older now and still doesn't have a job; he just keeps going to classes. And he doesn't have any money or support."

 

I glanced at the last man before my eyes met his kind-looking face. He didn't seem offended by the sarcastic remarks, just smiled bitterly, and then he extended his hand to me.

 

"You've chosen a difficult path, haven't you? Nevertheless, you're welcome." 

 

I acknowledged their greeting and bowed slightly.

 

"Please accept my greetings."

 

The four of them reacted to the short greeting in different ways, a mix of interest, irritation, indifference, and wariness. I memorised those reactions. I had been quietly observing each person, and heard the trainer's footsteps enter the practice room. My first official class had begun.

 

The voice recorder the manager gave me worked really well. Today was a four-hour class on vocalisation and pronunciation. It was nice to hear my own voice. The main benefit is that it helps us identify areas for improvement and supports learning. During the three breaks in class, I drank water to quench my thirst, listened to my own voice, and tried to adjust immediately. After the long class ended, while I was packing my bag, the instructor called me over for a talk. I guess because it was my first time, the instructor pointed out areas that needed improvement. I nodded and tried to remember everything carefully.

 

"I heard you've never studied acting, but your voice and articulation are quite good. And your voice is loud too." 

 

The loudness might be because I used to yell loudly during fight scenes, but I thought there was no need to explain that, so I just nodded in agreement. Watching the instructor about to leave the room, I walked over to where I'd left my bag, but couldn't find my jacket. Before I knew it, I was the only one left in the practice room. So, I picked up my bag and looked around. I definitely put the shirt on top of the bag. Moreover, I also had the voice recorder my manager gave me inside that jacket. I checked the rehearsal room again, just in case I missed the opportunity before someone poked their head through the open doorway. As they approached, he asked in a serious but hushed voice...

 

"Is anything missing?"

 

"yes"

 

Upon hearing my answer, he bit his lower lip and said, "Ah," before pulling me into the restroom. Inside was the kind-looking man who had been attending classes for four years. He stood there with a tense expression, his gaze fixed on the bathroom window. He turned to look at me as I walked in, then took a step back and pointed inside. I walked over to the opening he pointed to. The first thing I saw in the cramped restroom was my jacket draped over the toilet seat. There, black letters spelt out 'Get out, beggar.' But what infuriated me even more was the bright yellow urine in the toilet bowl, along with the pungent smell of urine itself.

 

If it weren't for the manager giving me the voice recorder, I would have ignored and overlooked the elementary school bullying. But I know he bought this little device and has become such a burden to him. Because I've practically been living with him for the past week, I've seen him eating ramen three times a day. It seemed like he was fasting when I disagreed. Han-soo said the manager might fall ill from malnutrition, and he prepared various things for him every time. Because he doesn't take care of himself to the point that Han-Soo worries might one day become reality, I know that the price of this small voice recorder would be like hundreds of millions of won to him.

 

"Looking down on others by saying they're eating chaff, while doing childish things like this "How embarrassing! What kind of crazy thing did they do?"

 

The kind-faced man clicked his tongue, and the blond-haired man sighed in agreement. Just by their reactions, it was clear who the culprit they were talking about was.

 

"Who?" Maybe he meant the ugliest person ever. I walked up to the toilet and reached in without hesitation. Even though the blond-haired person watching behind me let out a disgusted "eww," I casually picked up the voice recorder from the yellow urine. When I turned around, both of them stared at me with stunned expressions before quickly backing away.

 

"W-what are you going to do?" 

 

What am I going to do?

 

"It needs to be repaired before it can be used."

 

I left before washing the recording equipment in the sink. They both said it was the work of some ugly guy, but I remember the look on his face when he criticised the manager. I got it. It was a confident expression, certain I would win, because my manager looked so-so. Even though he was irritating, he wasn't the type to go around throwing away other people's things. If not him, then there was only one target I needed to keep an eye on, and it was probably someone connected to Myungshin. 

 

I glanced up in the mirror and saw those two looking at me with shocked expressions. "Who the heck are you two? The one who threw my voice recorder down the toilet?"

 

"That's amazing!"

 

I stopped short when I heard a voice call out to me as I was walking out of the bathroom. Even though I had already washed up, the blond-haired person still didn't come near, as if they thought it was dirty, yet he looked at me with a puzzled expression.

 

"If it were me, I'd probably be furious and lash out, but you don't seem angry at all. Don't you think so too, Jimin hyung?" The kind-faced man nodded in agreement, his eyes showing a hint of amazement.

 

"You have a really cool personality, I like it. Want to go out together? I'm about to go have a drink with Hyungseok."

 

"That's right. Let's go together."

 

I looked at both of them alternately before shaking my head.

 

"Maybe another time. My manager is waiting for me."

 

I thought the answer wouldn't be a problem, but both of their expressions changed strangely before the blond-haired guy named Hyungseok revealed the reason.

 

"Wow... you have a manager, huh? Well, that's pretty unusual. It's rare to have a manager closely following a new trainee who's just started classes for the first time. Even if there's someone in charge to help look after them, how should I put it? I feel like you're just one of many products being given that kind of special treatment. Usually, people with managers are those poised to become stars, with very striking looks that the company promotes, or they hire managers out of their own pockets."

 

The implied meaning in those words was clear, as if to say, "You don't seem to be one of those two things." They stared at me with strange looks, as if waiting for a response.

 

"Confirmed," I said, glancing at them alternately before speaking slowly.

 

"Then it's probably the third option."

 

"The third one?"

 

"Because I can demonstrate my potential without relying on my looks or backing."

 

To them, these words might sound like the arrogant rhetoric of an innocent newcomer. A smile flickered in both their eyes before fading immediately upon hearing my next words.

 

"Isn't that the most basic selection method?"

 

A flicker of bitterness appeared in the kind-faced man's eyes.

 

"But that basic principle doesn't apply here," he said, a sly smile playing on his lips.

 

"How about we go for a real drink together next time? I know a really great place, a place where only VIPs go, but I happened to get the chance to go. I've been here a couple of times." The blond-haired man next to him whispered in a low, startled voice.

 

"Are you going to take him there, brother?"

 

"Hmm, it's no big deal. We get to go for free anyway."

 

The blond-haired person said, "But..." before glancing at me and muttering softly, though I could still hear it. "But he said not to bring anyone along."

 

Then the kind-faced person smiled slightly.

 

"For those who can demonstrate their potential without relying on looks or backing, it's probably fine."

 

He continued to smile as he turned to face me. "Are you coming with me? How about the day after tomorrow? Or will it be so busy that the manager has to wait for you like today?" 

 

His question was half-teasing. I nodded at the kind-faced man who seemed entertained, unlike the blond-haired man who was anxious about something.

 

"Marin is available."

 

As I was about to turn around, the kind-faced person asked first.

 

"Aren't you wondering why I invited you to Marin today instead of tomorrow?"

 

"yes"

 

I immediately turned back and was about to turn around and walk away again when he laughed with a stunned expression.

 

"Haha, your personality is quite interesting. Because tomorrow, Taemin has something to be careful about." When I turned around to look, I saw him shrug.

 

"I don't know if you know this, but we have to learn various sports as part of the action class. Tomorrow's lesson is going to be tough..." He said only that much before shaking his head with a look that indicated things were about to end.

 

"Come and see for yourself tomorrow. You'll just be scared if I tell you."

 

The kind-faced person spoke as if concerned, but with a smile in their eyes. The blond-haired person beside them turned away, grinning openly. Hmm, that's a word. What a truly thankful month. I nodded and walked out, feeling like the wet recording device in my hand was a cold, rusty piece of metal.

 

I was telling Han-Soo about the people in my class.

 

"Wow, there's a really awful person here. That guy with the long face and foul mouth is super famous among the trainees. His father is the president of the cooperative."

 

"It was some kind of credit union; apparently, they have deep pockets, that's how he got into the company. As soon as he joined, he bribed his way into appearing on air a couple of times, but I heard his acting was so terrible that he couldn't bribe anymore, so he had to learn the basics again. I'd only ever seen him from afar; he'd been in a few supporting roles and already thought he was a top star. He said he wouldn't train in acting, especially voice training, but after President Yoon came in, he couldn't do that anymore. Things got really tough for him. If anyone didn't follow company policies or wasn't profitable, their contract would be terminated without any leniency..."

 

Han-Soo stopped talking at length and suddenly tilted his head in curiosity. "Thinking about it, the strange thing is, I thought I'd be the first one fired, but nobody said anything. Why?" 

 

The face, powdered white before a stage performance, shook from side to side like a doll. If a company fires unprofitable people without any leniency, there should be a reason given.

 

"The reason I'm still keeping Han-Soo... I think if you watch Han-Soo's upcoming performance, you'll understand the reason. But he, lacking in common sense, remained sceptical and continued to explain.

 

"Well, I heard that person was very arrogant about being affiliated with our company, so we had to reluctantly start developing them from the basics a few months ago."

 

Oh, yes, that's right. I also saw that there was another person in that class with an outstanding performance, but I can't remember who it was..."

 

As Han Soo tilted his head again, the manager who had gone to meet with the theatre staff approached him.

 

"What were you talking about?"

 

"Manager, who is that person? I heard there's a really talented actor in Taemin's class."

 

"Ah, that's right. If I ever saw it, I'd probably exclaim... Who could it be?"

 

The manager started tilting his head like a bobblehead doll, just like Han-Soo. Both of them shook their heads so vigorously that I didn't dare say I didn't suspect anything. Luckily, at that moment, my part-time job called. After seeing the number pop up and answering "Yes," I was immediately asked if I had any free time next weekend; if I had, I would have refused this job. But then I thought about the voice recorder still in my bag. The pay was very good, well worth the effort. 

 

After hanging up, Han-Soo walked backstage. His manager pulled me to a cramped back section with fewer than a hundred seats and whispered something to me.

 

"I don't remember who performed well in the same class as you, but if you saw Han-Soo, you'd realise that doesn't matter at all. He's worth that much."

 

"Keep a close eye on this. Even greedy companies that only care about profit know this and won't let Han Soo go."

 

Although I dislike the word "greedy," it also has other meanings for me. It helps to clarify a hidden, ambiguous doubt.

 

Suddenly, at that very moment, a person and something flashed clearly into my mind. It was the face of that lunatic who had introduced himself as a shareholder of Dream. Yes, now I understand why I felt awkward about him helping me. I didn't believe him when he said he would help because he was interested in me from the start.

 

Then, I just couldn't find a reason to refute that convincing statement. Now I've realised what I missed from the manager's words. That greedy company only cares about profit, and everyone knows that Myungshin, the person I intend to get revenge on, is a rising star who generates significant profits for the opposing company.

 

With me being just a pathetic newbie with no backing and no good looks, there's absolutely no reason for that lunatic who's a shareholder in Dream to help me. Even if you include the seemingly absurd hypothesis of falling in love at first sight, for him, who makes staying up late every night a daily routine to find profitable movies, it's undeniable. Work definitely comes first. Basically, he had another reason – a reason for intentionally using me to destroy Myungshin by pretending to help me.

 

"You wretched man!" Suddenly, the theatre darkened, and a silence descended, as if no one was in their seats. A circle of white light shone above the stage before a man with an evil smile walked into the centre of the circle, speaking to himself. Then, Han Soo's sombre voice began to envelop the entire theatre. My manager was right that Han-Soo's performance was worth watching. Even though I haven't yet shown the seriousness of my desire to be an actor, that performance was powerful enough to bring something out in me. 

 

During the performance, Han-Soo transformed completely, a stark contrast to his true self. When the play ended, and the other actors came out to greet the audience, an exclamation was heard: "Ah, it's Han-Soo!" To be honest, I don't remember much of the script, partly because it was bland and partly because I was too focused on Han-Soo's performance, especially his facial expressions. His voice and the emotions that poured out of him overwhelmed my mind like a glass overflowing with water, something I would normally just let pass without thinking.

 

It might sound funny that I, who have only been in this industry for a few days, am saying this, but Han-Soo’s performance, adjusting his voice and changing his facial expressions as if he were a different person, has given me a rough idea of ​​what I need to do, even though it's still somewhat vague. But I feel like I can now grasp the direction I need to take in my acting career.

 

However, when the manager asked me how I felt, I simply replied, "It's good." He seemed to expect me to understand more, but couldn't quite put it into words. I don't want him to have high expectations of me, because I don't have those kinds of expectations of myself either. The proof is that once the play ends and I get some fresh air, my mind is already filled with other thoughts. Why would that lunatic want to destroy Myungshin? He definitely doesn't harbour the same resentment as I, and he doesn't even show any emotion when talking about Myungshin, and yet he shows absolutely no interest in Myungshin's well-being. Isn't that a bit strange? After all, Myungshin is just a usable commodity, isn't he? And it seems that repeatedly going there to be called "the two hundred won servant" is meaningless, because today he didn't summon me; I came of my own free will.

 

In that Labyrinth bar, not only did I not find him, but I also ran into the club manager who had guided me there, who was speaking in a sarcastic tone as if he knew I would come.

 

"You can leave your homework with me for today, and then you can leave."

 

As I stared at him silently, he smiled gently at the corner of his mouth before relaying the madman's words perfectly, like a robot.

 

"He said that if you're sleepy, you can use this money to buy coffee from the vending machine."

 

He politely handed me two 100-won coins, but I stared at the coins in my palm without taking them before glancing up.

 

"Is the coffee in this vending machine 200 won?"

 

"It's more expensive than that, actually."

 

"That's high-quality coffee."

 

I thought I had unparalleled eyesight, but it seemed powerless in the face of an unexpected enemy. Alright, let's glare. The robot was an eyesore. He was like someone who would never stop smiling no matter who stripped naked in front of him, and he even said, "Want me to play some music?" I finally took the coin from the club manager's hand.

 

"If I'm not sleepy, can I just keep this money for myself?"

 

When he asked in a curt tone, a robotic smile flickered across his face. "Yes, I'll keep it a secret."

 

Today's assignment is to read a thick script. It's the most boring task, definitely homework. I never read textbooks when I was in school. The story is quite extensive, and I think even a couple of days wouldn't be enough. Furthermore, I'm unfamiliar with its structure. The script lacks descriptions or narration; there's only dialogue and abrupt, parenthesised situational explanations. Therefore, I don't really understand the content.

 

Unfamiliar symbols and terminology further slowed down my already sluggish reading, but luckily, there was a tablet conveniently placed beside me. It's for searching for unknown things. Come to think of it, I have a tablet and a computer, so why is this room still piled high with documents? What an outdated way of working, I grumbled to myself as I read. I looked up unfamiliar technical terms and slowly read through each page without moving for hours. It was probably my stubbornness that drove me to persevere, even though the content didn't fit.

 

My head was spinning, but I just felt like I had to finish reading this. When I was about halfway through, the robotic club manager interrupted me.

 

"That's all for today."

 

He, whom I didn't know when he arrived, was bending down and looking at me from beside the door. I quickly glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was two o'clock. If this weren't my room, with the owner absent, I might have stubbornly tried to finish reading, but the club manager's stern voice reminded me of the kind of place this was.

 

"It's time to close the door to the director's office." 

 

Is this an amusement park or something? A sarcastic laugh escaped.

 

"I didn't know there were closing times."

 

"I'll put up a sign next time." He replied so seriously that I was speechless. Sometimes, there are people who listen seriously, no matter how much you're joking, and they respond with such enthusiasm. They're tough, the type of person with a quiet personality but determined and dedicated. I used to be an idiot who looked down on people like them, calling them stupid.

 

I turned the script face down and stood up from my seat as he requested. My body, strained in the same position for so long, felt tired. I gently moved my head from side to side. I took a hundred-won coin from my pocket and handed it to the club manager, who was waiting. Suddenly, a look of surprise crossed his face for the first time.

 

"Why are you giving this to me?"

 

"Entrance fee."

 

As he was about to leave, I saw him smile as he looked at the hundred-baht coin in his hand. The hallway at the back, where the waiters walked, wasn't as complicated as the one outside. In the labyrinthine terrain, I managed to find a staircase that led upstairs all by myself without needing the club manager to guide me. I ran up the stairs, thinking it would be better to hurry home and rest before I heard the club manager calling out to me from behind. When I turned around to see what was wrong, I heard a voice that sounded like a robot, just like his expression.

 

"The director will be arriving the day after tomorrow."

 

I glanced down at him for a moment, unexpectedly, because he didn't look like the person who would give me this kind of information at all. If he's coming on Marin Day, that means I don't need to come here tomorrow, but why did he tell me? He must have seen the surprised expression on my face, so he gave me a human-like smile.

 

"This is to thank you for your entrance fee."

 

Quitting a delivery job and starting a completely different one would be a big change in my daily life, but it didn't really affect me. What's wrong with me? Because of that, when it's time to wake up as usual, I automatically open my eyes. Even though I've only slept for three hours, I've been sleeping like this for the past five years, so I forced myself to push away the sleepiness and sat up without much difficulty.

 

Maybe it's because yesterday I focused on the pronunciation class all day, which is why I'm thinking about what I heard in it. My mind was blurry as I tried to figure out how to pronounce words clearly and use different vocal techniques for different emotions. I saw flashing lights and tried to regain my composure as I reached for the table next to me. Right, I recorded the class. Maybe if I listened to it again...

 

When he pressed the play button, the voice recorder still didn't work. I then fully woke up and remembered where it had fallen. I thought I'd just leave it to dry for a day, and it would work again. If it's completely stopped turning on, it'll probably be difficult to repair. I pressed a few more buttons before standing up, still holding the now motionless voice recorder. As I walked to the bathroom to wash my face, I considered my bank balance and tried to estimate the price of a voice recorder.

 

It was almost time for the class when the blond-haired guy and the kind-faced guy were there, but I wasn't interested in that class, contrary to their expectations. Then I met the manager. After we parted ways before class, I borrowed a computer from the office to look up the price of voice recorders. That's when I realised they were high-quality, professional-grade equipment and therefore more expensive than I expected. I reviewed the account balance I'd been thinking about this morning, and concluded I needed to take the part-time job from the company that called yesterday before going there.

 

The spacious gym, used for action classes... It's tiring, but if I do that work, I should be able to combine the money with what I have to buy a new voice recorder. I mean, I don't know if the manager will be angry if he finds out later, but I think I need to buy an identical voice recorder.  As soon as I walked into the gym, there were four people who had arrived in advance and were waiting for me. Looking around, I didn't see anyone who looked like a trainer. Only those guys were putting on their boxing gloves.

 

One by one, dressed in comfortable workout clothes, approached me. One of them was a grumpy-looking guy whose father was the president of a credit union. He stomped towards me with an inexplicably angry expression, and as soon as he got close, he threw the boxing gloves he was holding at me. His frustrated voice echoed throughout the bartender's room when he saw me catch a hard-thrown boxing glove with one hand.

 

"Damn it, you beggar! Hurry up and put on your gloves, and let's fight! I'll bash your mouth shut for all that blabbering nonsense!"

 

I averted my gaze from him, who had just launched into a tirade, and looked behind me. A handsome man stood with his arms crossed as if it wasn't his business, while the blond-haired man and the other man, the kind-hearted person, looked at me with worried expressions. The moment our eyes met, they both quickly averted their gaze. I don't know what's going on. It's like they're telling me to just go ahead, I guess. I should ask for an explanation, but I'm too lazy to argue, so I slowly slipped my hands into my gloves, thinking about the phone conversation I had earlier about the part-time job.

 

"What? No scars on your face, huh? Kid, I'm the one begging you to say that." That was the comment from someone hired as a sparring partner who ended up knocking out their opponent.

 

"Punching hard once a minute is your hobby, huh? Well, you should hold back a bit!"

 

Hold back, huh?

I shifted my hand in the familiar boxing gloves and pointed to the boxing ring at the far end of the gym. "Shall we spar over there?"

 

I strode ahead slowly without waiting for an answer. Although it was called a boxing ring, it was just a simple imitation, with posts propped up on the ground and ropes tied around it. Besides, it felt more like a fitness centre than a gym, so it felt strange having a boxing ring there. I stopped in front of my destination and checked the ropes' flexibility with my hand. The posts seemed firmly planted, as the taut ropes, gently pushed, instantly sprang back to their original position. The ugly guy strutting behind me continued to curse incessantly.

 

"Wow, this bastard is really shameless. A filthy kid who goes around badmouthing people behind their backs like you, probably shows up without any fear, huh? This jerk needs to be taught a lesson."

 

"You want me to beat you up first before you can be sarcastic, huh? You're saying I worship money and am just a beggar who'll be thrown away someday? You idiot! A worthless piece of trash like you doesn't even know what this place is like, and you're still blabbing everywhere?"

 

He became increasingly agitated, pounding his gloved fists and spewing insults in a manner that seemed designed to intimidate me. I didn't fully understand the situation. Someone must have instigated the idea that I was gossiping about him behind his back. It's probably the work of someone using childish pranks, like the voice recorder incident. However, we can postpone interrogating those two-faced people for now. Right now, I'm only thinking about fighting the person in front of me seriously. I don't have hand wraps, a headguard, or a mouthguard, but no matter the situation, I'm not kind enough to go easy on someone who insults me for no reason.

 

Actually, I've never really had any proper boxing training. One reason I started fighting is that five years ago, I got a well-paying job and ended up being a sparring partner. Firstly, it's because of the saying that all you need is patience. Even though I have some limited boxing skills, my sparring partners are experts preparing to become professionals.

Of course, I was beaten up badly, leaving bruises all over my face and body, but I gritted my teeth and endured until the third round, which is why I got this job the next time.

 

I didn't want to get hurt, so I learned and imitated my opponents from then on, automatically, and eventually became the one fighting back just three years ago. That's why I never thought I'd lose in this arena, even though there was that lunatic who knocked me out before. I was incredibly unlucky, but except for the fact that there are only a few demons in the world like him. Even if I seriously trained in boxing and charged in relentlessly, I'm still not sure I could win. There might be one exception. I don't think the opponents in front of me, including these four, are on the same level of demons as that lunatic, so I'm not panicking at all. In fact, I'm thinking a little.

 

It's disheartening that, while I'd love to punch that ugly guy in the face right now, I also want to help out that childish person who's been instigating things. A simple way to handle a situation where it's unclear who's instigating it is to deal with all four of them, and that's the end of it. Therefore, try to figure out how to create trouble with them. All four of them were there, and the handsome man leaning against the ringside post spoke to me first.

 

"You're really so cheeky."

 

The ugly man was stretching and twisting his arms and legs as if to subtly intimidate me. Glancing to the side, I saw a handsome man smirking in the corner. His mouth, before he lowered his voice to whisper so only I could hear.

 

"You're really going to fight, aren't you? Think carefully about what the person instigating this wants from you." Meanwhile, he scanned the unattractive man who entered the boxing ring.

 

"If you get punched in that boxing ring, you're the only one bleeding. But if you retaliate even once, you and everyone involved will be fired. one after another."

 

Before I knew it, he had pulled away from the pole and was yelling loudly at the guy in the boxing ring, "Beat him up!" 

 

I looked at the ugly guy staring at me from inside. I stood in the boxing ring before turning to look at the blond-haired man and the kind-faced man who were watching with interested expressions. When they realised I was watching, they gave me enthusiastic encouragement. Just say, "Box well."

 

I stood still for a moment, only moving my legs when I heard the ugly man urging me to go in with a loud, ear-piercing voice. That's when I finally made eye contact with the handsome man. He curled his lips into a clearly mocking smile. It seems to imply, if you're not stupid, what are you going to do about the warning? What am I going to do? That's the goal of a newbie like me, with only a one-month contract. It means being here now. Yeah, now. I swallowed the word "ready," which sounded like sharp ice, then walked into the middle of the boxing ring and opened my mouth to the cockroach-faced guy, shifting my weight to one leg.

 

"I heard you're a terrible actor. I wonder if you'll ever be any good at boxing? You'll probably just throw a few punches, get out of breath, and fall over."

 

"You little brat!"

 

Beep!

The fist swung out in a semicircle, accompanied by a curse. The wind from the punch narrowly missed my face as I recoiled backwards. I had intended to taunt him at...

They are panting heavily.

 

"Look, do you think you can box just by wearing boxing gloves?"

 

Beep! Beep!

He swung his fists wildly, while I taunted and mocked him continuously, dodging frantically. The intense, cramped boxing match was incredibly difficult. We were both breathing heavily, and his face, flushed red and on the verge of exploding, roared at me, which I narrowly dodged like an animal.

 

"You bastard! I'll kill you!"

 

As he moved backwards, I occasionally glanced around, searching for the person he was looking for. Surveying the vast gymnasium as I ran away was extremely difficult. Luckily, the sound of a thick iron door opening saved the day. The person who came in, looking panicked, was the instructor I was waiting for. He was too late. Class had already started. That's when I stopped running and deliberately bumped into the boxing ring ropes. A heavy gust of wind swept across my groin. I dodged the punch narrowly, but because I ducked, I lost my balance and couldn't move quickly enough.

 

*Thud!*

The impact on my shoulder told me I'd been hit by his punch. He'd landed half a punch, but it was still so close I flinched for a moment. I doubled over. The upper half of his body darted up to look at the guy, who was arrogant after landing one punch, with a mocking gaze.

 

"Are you tickling me?"

 

"Shut your mouth!"

 

Thump! Thump! His fist swung towards my face. I quickly raised both arms to block it before the force of the punch, which had pushed me backwards, unleashed a barrage of blows. Even as I swayed and was being attacked, the rope pushed me back, but I still didn't release my guard, leaving my abdomen exposed and easily targeted by my opponent.

 

Chop!

...gulp!

 

This time, he landed precisely on my abdomen. In an instant, my knees went weak, and my trembling body slumped to the ground, lying prone in that position. The painful, breathless ache pressed down on my upper body, preventing me from observing my surroundings. All I knew was that the ugly guy was panting heavily, while someone else rushed into the boxing ring shouting insults. The surroundings erupted with shouts as people tried to stop them. The person trying to intervene was probably a trainer. Even so, the ugly guy kicked me as I fell and stomped on me repeatedly, as if he was still furious.

 

"You bastard! Know this, you'll never last in this business! You son of a bitch!"

 

"Stop! What are you doing?!"

 

After the instructor's voice rang out for a while, the force of the kick to me subsided. Only then did I release my grip on my head and look up. The first thing that appeared was the eyes widening as the scrawny guy was being dragged out of the boxing ring by the trainer. I deliberately smirked the moment our eyes met.

 

"A four-year-old probably has more strength than you."

 

"Ah...ah...you little puppy!"

 

The guy, even more furious than before, was still being dragged away by the coach. Typical of a strong sports instructor. I got up with difficulty. As I watched him being dragged away, a handsome man with a furrowed brow approached me.

 

"Are you stupid? I've already given you the answer. Why can't you do it?"

 

The implication of what I was seeing was that he wanted to ask why I had spoken so carelessly. So, without hesitation, I stood up to my full height and walked past him. I was about to leave, but he grabbed my arm. When I turned back to look at him with a questioning look, he spoke, still frowning.

 

"Shall I give you another gift for the month?"

 

"No."

 

He became enraged again, and the instructor's face contorted with anger. I pulled my arm away from the other guy, whose face was slightly tense, and walked towards the ugly guy, who was still being held by the drill instructor. As soon as he saw me approaching, the ugly guy spoke, "Are you new trainees? What exactly are you guys here for?"

 

I glanced at the ugly guy before opening my mouth to speak to the drill instructor.

 

"This place is really awful."

 

"W-what did you say?"

 

"Training in the boxing ring is like kids playing. Do you think I'll be able to shadow box like that guy? Do you think you can fight just by putting on gloves?" The trainer was probably stunned by my words, looking at me with a bewildered expression.

 

"Do you even realise what you just said?"

 

"You little dog! Haven't you gotten punched enough yet? How about I give you another good beating?"

 

I turned to look at the ugly man who was thrashing around and about to lunge at me, my face expressionless.

 

"Enough already. Even if we have a proper competition, will your terrible punches improve? Coach, if this is how we're going to play, I don't want to learn boxing anymore."

 

"Next time, please curl my hair."

 

After saying that, I turned around and walked slowly towards the door. As I pushed the heavy door open, I immediately heard the sound of two sets of footsteps following me.

 

"Is something wrong, Taemin?"

 

The kind-faced person asked with a concerned tone, after which the blond-haired person added..."Getting punched so many times... doesn't that hurt terribly?" When I stared back at them silently, they probably thought I was embarrassed and let out a dry laugh.

 

"But I'm relieved to see you were able to calm that guy down. You're incredibly brave, even in a situation like that; you didn't panic."

 

"That's right. Actually, rumours spread so fast here that they're all over the place within hours. Well, gossiping behind someone's back isn't good, that's true."

 

But if you're the one who insulted him, we understand. However, we only met yesterday. So, who did you insult him to, and where?"

 

"I never said that."

 

They said I'm a good actor, right? Then both of them made surprised faces at the same time. One of them was probably acting, but it was unclear which one. One of the two must be the one Han-Soo and the manager were pretending to be.

 

"You didn't really say that, did you? Then, where did he hear it from to vent his anger like this? I'm sorry, we thought you said it."

 

"That's why I didn't go out and stop him. If I rashly went out and that guy targeted me... I'd be in trouble too, you understand, right?"

 

The kind-faced person smiled as if to apologise to me.

 

"Yes, I understand."

 

As Podob returned without thinking, a flash of surprise flickered in his eyes before he immediately changed the subject and made a suggestion.

 

"Then, as a way to make amends, how about we have drinks tomorrow? Normally you have to tip, but since it's your first time, you don't have to pay anything."

 

Okay then." I nodded before the blond-haired person next to me tilted their head.

 

"That's amazing, isn't it? So who manipulated that guy with words that Taemin didn't say?" 

 

"Yeah, I'm wondering the same thing. Who's one of you two?"

 

Despite the bruises all over my body, my face was fine, so I was lucky that the manager didn't find out about what happened yesterday. The only awkward thing is that in class today, as soon as those ugly people saw me, they started barking and howling at me as if they wanted to kill me. I just ignore the howling dogs.

He probably knows that no matter how much money he has, if he gets into fights again, he'll be fired from the company. So, it's unlikely he'll resort to physical violence again. Definitely, that's why he was so agitated and snapped at me for not responding at all. Even after class ended in the evening and we went outside, his eyes were still glaring at me as a final gesture. The blond-haired guy and the kind-looking guy waiting in the car were the first to notice me.

 

This way, please.

 

I walked towards a mid-sized, old car with the engine running, and the blond-haired man sitting in the passenger seat leaned his head towards me through the car window.

 

"Please sit in the back."

 

Beep! Thump!

As soon as I sat down in the back seat and closed the door, the car drove off. I made eye contact with the kind-looking driver through the rearview mirror. The car slowed down for a moment to change lanes.

 

"Aren't you wondering where we're going?"

 

"yes"

 

A fleeting look of surprise crossed his eyes before instantly transforming into a smile.

 

"Do you usually joke around like that?"

 

"No."

 

The silence continued as if a cold breeze had swept through. Of course, I looked out the window, oblivious to everything, before a chuckle escaped his lips.

 

"The place we're going to is very famous in this industry. It's called Alice's Labyrinth." I thought it didn't matter where we were going; I just heard the name of the place. Who is Alice, and what is a labyrinth anyway? But when we arrived and looked at the sign, I knew the situation was starting to get chaotic.

 

'Alice's Labyrinth'

 

It's that crazy guy's club, the one I've been coming to almost every day lately. We arrived a little after 9 pm. It was probably the time when guests were pouring in, causing waiters to bustle about in the hallways. The assigned waiter led us down a winding, labyrinthine corridor to a blue door. Inside, the room was entirely red, contrasting sharply with the door's colour. The walls had raised sections in the centre, as if wide planks of wood had been placed over them. I sat down on a dark wine-colored sofa, and the two people sitting opposite me immediately began to ask questions.

 

"Isn't this place wonderful?"

 

"We've only been here a few times, but we're always impressed every time."

 

As I glanced around the quiet room, I heard the experienced ones speak in a relaxed tone, as if they thought I was startled by the place.

 

"As you've arrived, you should have already seen that this place is for members only, and at the top tier. Just being able to sit here is like..."

 

"Isn't that a miracle?"

 

"So how did you get that miracle?"

 

"Ah, about that..."

 

The blond-haired man, whose voice was soft at the end, glanced to the side before shrugging boastfully.

 

"I just got it by chance."

 

If it were here, I could pretty much guess who bestowed the miracle without asking any further questions. I just don't understand why they would try so hard to be Myungshin's dog just to get into a bar like this. But after a while, I realised this wasn't just any "bar." At least their purpose for being here wasn't just to drink alcohol.

 

"I have a question I'd like to ask you."

 

I was wondering why, even though we'd been sitting there for quite a while, no waiter had come to take our order. When I suggested asking, a kind-looking person opened the menu.

 

"I heard that photographer P took your profile pictures. What's your secret technique?"

 

"..."

 

"Are you unavailable to answer?"

 

"No."

 

I shook my head and replied softly as well. "I decided to take off my clothes in return."

 

Suddenly, the same sombre smile spread across both their eyes, as if they knew it had to happen.

 

"What? Mr Taemin is okay with men, too?" Of course, I wasn't kind enough to correct their misunderstanding.

 

"Yes, it's fine with a man too."

 

Then I picked up the glass of water from the table and looked alternately at the two of them.

 

"You two are just alike."

 

The blond-haired man flinched slightly, but the kind-faced, dark-skinned man who had been a trainee for four years smiled bitterly.

 

"Yes, it works for guys, too. When you get to your fourth year, you just have to steel yourself and do it."

 

"But if you think about it that way, Taemin is lucky to be able to associate with such a disgusting man without feeling anything."

 

He didn't hide his disgust when he said the words 'disgusting man,' and for a moment, anger flickered in his eyes, but soon returned. The man had the same kind face as always and asked me a question as if he had just remembered something.

 

"Um, are you not comfortable with women?"

 

"It's fine with women too."

 

When he made a gesture like, "I'm so jealous," the blond-haired person next to him added...

 

"What? So, when you sleep with a man, it doesn't matter if he's the top or the bottom?"

 

I nodded.

"Wow, that's really enviable. I don't like being the top, but I always end up with old guys who are the bottoms, so I hate the whole thing about penetration."

 

He frowned as if he really hated it, but the kind-faced person sitting next to him smiled and patted his shoulder.

 

"Because you're exceptionally unlucky, that's why. Usually, a lot of people want to try sleeping with men out of curiosity. That's why there are more dominant partners." Listening to their conversation, I was confused whether they wanted to be stars or hosts.

 

"If you don't like it, you don't have to do it."

 

A sudden silence fell, as if my words had been a splash of cold water in the room. After a moment, the kind-faced person replied to me in a gentle voice.

 

"You yourself offered yourself to the photographer to have your picture taken, and you're still asking that question?"

 

"I didn't feel bad about the offer."

 

I looked at the two of them alternately, adding a polite remark at the end.

 

"…yes"

 

But you guys absolutely hate having to do that, don't you? I said that with that in mind, but I didn't really care to know the answer. It's obvious that to survive in this world, you have to sleep with people you dislike. That's pretty much it. Even so, I still wanted to confirm the culprit, based on a rough idea I had from our brief conversation, so I spoke up, waiting for the expression that would soon appear.

 

"If you're doing it because you want sponsors, you could just choose a woman, couldn't you?"

 

"Very few women have enough power to be sponsors, which is why the competition is so fierce. Even women from wealthy families are not."

 

"No matter how thick the walls are, the real power lies with the management.. In the end, all we can do is earn some pocket money. If a man is the sponsor, simply enduring something disgusting creates opportunities. At least it helps you get in front of the camera."

 

The blond-haired man nodded, indicating he thought the same as the person next to him. I looked at both of them and went along with it, as if I understood them.

"So, male sponsors are more beneficial and help you succeed, right?" I asked softly, as if speaking casually.

 

"Like Song Yoo-han "

 

Both their faces showed utter disbelief. I tried my best to suppress my laughter. Three glasses of water were placed in front of three people. I felt a little strange that I had been in the room for more than twenty minutes, but no one had come to take our order yet. While I was there, the blond-haired guy went to the restroom, and the kind-faced guy spoke to me while I was sitting there idly.

 

"Why are you suddenly mentioning Song Yoo-han ?"

 

"He's an acquaintance."

 

"Do...do you know them? How?"

 

"Isn't he famous? The one who's on TV."

 

He frowned slightly and spoke softly. "Don't joke around."

 

"My manager is the president of Song Yoohan 's former agency," and then he said, "Oh," as if remembering something.

 

"So that's it. Your manager used to be the president of company xx. If that's the case, you must have heard that Chung Yoohan forgot how to open his mouth because of..."

 

"It's a male sponsor, isn't it?"

 

I looked at him silently before responding with a question.

 

"If I don't have sponsors, will I never get any media exposure?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

I told him what I'd heard in class today, as he frowned.

 

"The script that the instructor gave us today... didn't he say himself that whoever practices that five-line script and can convey it best next week will get a chance? We actually filmed that scene."

 

Before he could explain further, a mocking tone escaped his lips.

 

"Do you believe in that too?"

 

"Was it a lie that you were just an extra?"

 

"Uh, that's right. Before that, they used small roles as bait to motivate them to practice diligently like that. But no matter how hard they tried, it was obvious who was the one..."

 

"I'll get that role."

 

He stared at me silently.

 

"The same old faces always manage to snatch it up. This time, it'll probably be them again, even though their performance is terrible and their faces are the worst. So I don't expect anything. It's better to just accept it."

 

Although no name was mentioned directly, the image of that ugly guy who kicked me with his foot automatically flashed through my mind. Suddenly, a curt question rang out.

 

"That's really messed up, isn't it?"

 

"..."

 

"If you encounter situations like this repeatedly, Mr Taemin will understand that ultimately, money and power are necessary, even for a small role like this."

 

"This time it will become stained."

 

"Yes?"

 

He leaned in as if he didn't understand, but the conversation was interrupted when a blond-haired man burst through the door, shouting loudly.

 

"Brother, they said they're ready."

 

As soon as he sat down, he drank more water and then told me..."Is it okay if we start now?"

 

When I asked what he was starting, he just looked at the person next to him, puzzled.

 

"Hey, didn't you explain it to him while I was away?" Then the kind-faced man grinned and shrugged.

"Knowing in advance would spoil the fun."

 

He rose from his seat with a smile and beckoned me to stand up as well. I didn't know what it was about, so I didn't comply and just sat there watching. The blond-haired man saw this. That's provoking me from the side.

 

"What a coward! It's pretty obvious that they're offering free drinks in such an expensive place."

 

So it's obvious, huh? And you want me to stand against the wall? I didn't understand, but the two of them urged me on until I reluctantly walked towards the wall where they were standing. Yes, they had me stand at the very edge of a corner and kept giving me those irritating smiles.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"What are you doing? Are you asking because you genuinely don't know?"

 

The kind-faced person answered my question, then bent down to press a hidden button at the corner of the table. Then a "creak" sound came from beside me. I turned around in surprise and saw the wall next to me sliding open. Simultaneously, loud noises from the next room poured in, along with light streaming through the opening. Don't tell me this is...

 

"Just give him oral sex once, and you'll get free drinks."

 

Someone's hand pushed me hard from behind, followed by an explanation. Immediately, I stumbled forward, almost falling face-first from the unexpected force, and heard the "creak" sound come from behind me again. When I turned around, the door was almost completely closed, and before I could, I heard someone giggling through the gap.

 

"You know, if you run away from there, people will spread rumours that you're a useless person who can't even do a basic job, because the old men there have big mouths."

 

Pick! The door slammed shut completely. I had no choice but to turn around, and three pairs of eyes simultaneously shot towards me. They were men in their fifties.

Sixty years old, three men with hazy eyes, shiny skin, and flushed faces from intoxication—only then did I realise that the room was a waiting area for guests.