Pen and Paper Translations

Manager Kim learned that Hyunseung had been cooped up in his studio for several nights, not eating and focusing solely on work.

Yes.

It was almost certainly because of the collaboration with Man Records. That stubbornly obsessive nature of his was likely pushing him to the point of neglecting his own health. The image of him huddled over, diligently working, played clearly in Manager Kim’s head.

Concerned, he wrapped up his morning tasks at breakneck speed and headed to the studio with coffee and food in tow. The closer he got, the faster his steps became.

“Good grief…”

The moment he opened the studio door and spotted Hyunseung’s back, Manager Kim let out a heavy sigh. He felt as though he had an adult son despite never having been in a serious relationship—let alone married.

“When’s the last time you showered?”

“Oh, you’re here.”

Hyunseung turned to greet him, eyes aglow in stark contrast to the dark shadows beneath them. Manager Kim used his thick hands to tidy Hyunseung’s messy hair and asked again,

“You’re so focused you can’t even shower or sleep?”

“Yeah, guess so. It just happened.”

“How much more do you have left on this project to wrap it up?”

“Hm? Probably another month or two?”

Manager Kim raised his eyebrows.

“That long?”

“Besides the main OST that I finished when Taichi was here, there are 14 more theme songs I need to make. It’s a brand-new concept, a brand-new style, so it’ll take longer than expected. But it’s really fun.”

Just talking about how fun the work was drew a contented smile across Hyunseung’s face—a bright, youthful smile befitting someone in his early twenties.

In the beginning, his perpetually tense lips and an almost all-knowing gaze felt incongruous with his age, but lately, he had started showing a playful, boyish side.

A positive change, indeed.

Yes, maybe Manager Kim had grown attached to him after seeing that face so often.

“Make sure you eat.”

He’d brought so much food that it nearly covered the entire table—an indication of just how worried he was about Hyunseung missing meals.

“Wow, you’re the best, Manager!”

Hyunseung set aside his headphones, hurried over to the table, and shoved a piece of gimbap into his mouth.

“What is this…”

Manager Kim noticed a stain on Hyunseung’s white hoodie and used a wet tissue to wipe it off. Hyunseung was surprisingly high-maintenance for a young man who often seemed self-sufficient.

“I must’ve spilled coffee earlier.”

“How’re you going to live without me around?”

“You’ll keep supporting me, right?”

“There’s no guarantee of that.”

The entertainment world was fickle. Sure, it’d be nice if everything lasted forever, but if Manager Kim found better opportunities, it was only right for them to support each other. Both of them knew that in life, every meeting had an eventual parting.

“Didn’t you once tell me never to retire, that we’d be together for life?”

“Kiddo, leaving the company and retiring are two different things. And you didn’t exactly say yes back then, did you?”

They both cracked a smile, letting the topic drop. Only the sound of chewing filled the silence. After a while, Hyunseung wore an odd expression, as if lost in thought.

“If you do decide to switch jobs, please let me know in advance.”

“So you can follow me?”

“No, so I can collect all the meal tickets you owe me.”

Manager Kim clutched at the back of his neck.

“Oh, my blood pressure…”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’ve got a lunch date.”

He stood up, adding:

“I’m meeting the former head of our department who already left LS.”

“Huh? You’re not planning on jumping ship, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. By the way, clean up the trash.”

“Yes, yes.”

Hyunseung answered with exaggerated obedience, and Manager Kim pretended to deliver a playful flick to the forehead before heading for the door.

“Dad’s leaving, you brat. For God’s sake, eat and sleep occasionally.”

Then—

Thud.

The heavy, soundproof studio door closed behind him.

“Huh.”

Hyunseung shoved the last piece of gimbap into his mouth and looked at the door Manager Kim had exited.

“Dad, huh…”

Indeed, from behind, Manager Kim did resemble a father leaving for work, leaving his child behind.

---

“So you’re saying the higher-ups have taken an interest in me?”

Manager Kim repeated, uncertain he’d heard correctly. He was meeting with Kim Wooseok, the former LS Entertainment director, and was taken aback by the offer on the table.

“Yeah, I’ve always had a high opinion of you. Once I secured my position at this new place, you were the first I thought of.”

Kim Wooseok slid an envelope containing a contract across the table.

“Go through it thoroughly. Obviously you know how to check the fine print. From a quick look, it seems like the best conditions the industry has to offer. You must see it, too, right?”

Then,

“Ah, yes…”

Manager Kim carefully pulled out the contract. He’d suspected an offer might come but wasn’t entirely sure. After all, he was one of the few “pureblood” employees left in the entertainment industry, having almost never changed companies.

He had come expecting just a meal and casual conversation to vent mutual frustrations, not an actual job offer. Turned out he was half-right. Merely glancing at the contract to satisfy his curiosity made him feel oddly guilty. He found himself emptying his coffee cup just to distract his nerves.

Slurp, slurp—

Air hissed through the straw.

Why are they making me an offer like this?

The contract was full of favorable terms—significant quarterly incentives based on performance, plus a general layout entirely in his favor. And the most eye-catching thing: a salary 1.5 times what he was making at LS.

“Finished reading?”

Kim Wooseok pressed him.

“Woo-hyun, let’s be real. How many stars did you scout at LS? They’re living like celebrities now, but what about you? Don’t you feel a bit cheated?”

“Cheated how? They had brilliant talent and worked hard for it. I can’t feel resentful.”

They couldn’t eat or even go for a walk without being mobbed. Manager Kim never felt envy or resentment toward them. After all, not everyone could become a star. He believed that for those shining talents to flourish, people like him had to act as a support system.

Like satellites orbiting a star.

But Kim Wooseok pressed his argument:

“You might be right, but to be blunt, LS’s bonus scheme is a joke. Office politics are harsh, and promotions are tough. Don’t you want to be properly rewarded for your efforts? Quit LS. This new company’s all about results. The treatment will be so much better.”

He lowered his voice a little:

“Trust me, come here and I’ll pull you up. We had great chemistry at LS, right? I had a big hand in crafting this contract.”

ManagerKim stared intently at the contract. He knew that within LS, he was sometimes mentioned as a candidate for an executive position, but there was no telling when that would happen. And one misstep could push it even further away.

“Woo-hyun.”

Kim Wooseok wetted his lips before revealing his true motives:

“But you could bring over quite a few talents, right?”

“Huh?”

“You discovered a bunch of stars, many of whom still follow you.”

Sure, some remained at LS and some moved to other agencies, but it was true Manager Kim had discovered a good number of successful acts. That was why he’d risen so quickly, despite starting as a low-level road manager.

“So how many can you bring on board?”

“That’d be ideal, wouldn’t it?”

“So that’s the condition for these terms?”

He clarified:

“Listen, I haven’t even decided to switch jobs, but I certainly can’t bring people with me. I’m in no position to make that request, and it wouldn’t be ethical.”

If certain artists wanted to follow him of their own accord, he couldn’t stop them. But he wasn’t about to ask them to come, either.

It’s a tight-knit industry.

A small circle where the same people keep meeting, influencing each other’s success or downfall. There was no point in making enemies or stirring up drama. In the end, it would all come back like a boomerang.

“Hmm.”

Kim Wooseok broke the silence:

“Would be perfect if you could bring over HS.”

“What?”

“You found him, right? I know how sharp my ears are.”

Manager Kim stiffened. Even if he left LS, there was no way he’d try to poach Hyunseung—or anyone else.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Even if he did decide to switch, he’d never drag along the company’s affiliated talents. It was a blatant breach of professional ethics.

“Like I’ve said, I’m not stealing talents from anywhere. If that’s your main interest, I’ll have to politely refuse right now.”

Manager Kim nudged the contract back, and Kim Wooseok quickly prevented him from pushing it away.

“Hold up, don’t be hasty. I’m not insisting on that. I genuinely value your abilities. The upper management has approved this contract, so if you just sign it, it’s a done deal.”

He pulled a business card from his wallet, handing it over.

“Woo-hyun, I’m not asking you to decide this second. Take your time. But do keep in mind—once you join, you start as a department head. I’m an executive with real clout, and I can back you up.”

Manager Kim glanced down at the card:

Director Kim Wooseok

Indeed, the man who left LS as a department head had advanced to an executive position at his new company. It all made sense.

Manager Kim did find the offer tempting. He needed to be certain it wasn’t too good to be true, just because it looked delicious didn’t mean it wouldn’t cause indigestion.

Eventually—

He picked up the card, replying:

“Alright. I’ll think it over and let you know.”

Yet strangely, Hyunseung’s face kept flashing through his mind every time he looked at that card.

---

After finishing the meeting, Manager Kim went to the hospital where his mother, who was battling pancreatic cancer, was admitted.

“Mom, I’m here.”

“You must be tired. Why come every day?”

She was gazing out the window but smiled as soon as she saw him, slowly sitting up.

“It’s no trouble. Want me to peel a pear for you?”

“Yes, I’d love that—pear peeled by my son.”

Manager Kim grabbed a bowl, a paring knife, and a pear from the mini-fridge, sitting down next to her. As he deftly peeled the fruit, he watched her surreptitiously.

At least her jaundice had eased a little. He clung to that tiny hope as he sliced the pear. His mother took one piece, chewing it slowly, then asked,

“Son, are you seeing anyone lately?”

“No…”

“You should find a nice girl soon.”

He silently finished slicing the pear, and set it aside.

Truthfully…

He did have someone in mind. But it wasn’t something he could tell his mother yet. They weren’t in a serious relationship, and he was already old enough to be pragmatic about his situation.

He was an only son with an ailing mother, owned no home in his name, and wasn’t sure if he could afford marriage—let alone raising kids. It all seemed so uncertain. The woman he liked was far too good for him. He didn’t want to drag her into his messy reality.

Clack.

He placed the dish of neatly cut pear on her bedside and put away the knife. Contradicting his own jumbled thoughts, he’d managed to slice the fruit cleanly. Observing his reaction, his mother asked carefully:

“Do you think I could be discharged soon, dear? I feel a lot better.”

That cruel question made Manager Kim lift his gaze to meet hers. She was surely just worried about the high hospital bills, reading his expression. In truth, nothing was better. Her test results, her gaunt face, her thinning hair—they all showed she was far from okay.

“Mom, please don’t say that.”

Her “Maybe I should just check out?” sounded to him like “Should I quietly wait to die?” It was too brutal for him to handle alone, having no father or siblings.

“I’ll be busy tomorrow, so I have to go. Get some rest, keep up with your treatment, take your meds. Alright?”

He then hurried out of the room.

Thud.

Leaning against the corridor wall, he asked a question to no one:

Why…

Why does she keep lying about being fine?

“All because of money.”

Yes, everyone’s shackled by finances, enduring day by day. Bowing their heads for money, swallowing their true feelings, going places they hate, biting their tongue when they ought to speak… The majority of problems revolved around money.

“This is driving me nuts…”

Everything felt complicated. He didn’t want to leave LS, but the offer was so tempting. His mother was getting weaker by the day, and his heavy reality pressed down on him more and more. As he stood there, his phone rang.

[Precious Kid] (the nickname he’d set for Hyunseung)

Normally, he’d have checked and replied immediately, but instead he sighed and tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“Haah—.”

It was all just too overwhelming right now.

---