It was all so perplexing, as if a ghost were playing tricks.
“All overdue hospital charges and the patient’s treatment and surgery fees for Kim Hyeja have been fully paid.”
Who in the world could it have been?
“They just asked us to pass on the message that it was from a ‘tall benefactor.’”
So someone had stepped in and paid his mother’s hospital bills.
Manager Kim wandered aimlessly in deep thought. He had no clue who would so readily cover such a huge sum without leaving any clue except for that cryptic mention of a tall benefactor.
Could it have been Kim Wooseok? Sure, digging up private info like this would be child’s play for him if he wanted to win Manager Kim over. He had looked like the kind of person who might use this sort of good deed to secure loyalty.
But if that were so, wouldn’t he already be bragging about it? Why stay silent? Or maybe Director Choi? Right—he was the only other person who knew Kim’s situation in detail. Yet that was merely speculation, nothing certain.
His mind kept conjuring up question mark after question mark…
Eventually, he stopped walking. Because, right now, that wasn’t what mattered. Hyunseung’s new project, the Animal Island OST album, was launching tomorrow.
He had to focus on what he could do. Having helped Hyunseung from the start, he should see it through to the end, do his utmost to ensure they finish on a high note.
Tap, tap…
He strode off decisively toward his destination. He practically knew the way to Hyunseung’s studio with his eyes closed at this point. Never before had he visited a composer’s personal workspace so routinely, as if it were a bathroom.
“Huh?”
At the studio door, he turned the knob and heard a pleasant melody drifting out.
“Hyunseung, how’s it going?”
“Oh, Manager. You’re here.”
“What was that track just now? Doesn’t sound like it’s for Animal Island.”
“Just something for spring.”
Glancing over at him, Hyunseung stopped the audio. From the short snippet Manager Kim heard, it sounded quite well-polished, despite Hyunseung acting like it was nothing special.
“Another springtime track you’re prepping for release?”
“Yes. Something like that.”
“Even that snippet smelled like spring.”
Scratching the back of his head, Hyunseung said, “That’s good to hear,” then moved to the sofa.
“You’re already busy with the OST, but still found time to churn out such a gem by basically living in this studio?”
“You also seem busy these days, Manager.”
“Busy mopping up after you, obviously. Anyway, composing is fine, but maybe get a haircut?”
Manager Kim walked over and ruffled Hyunseung’s hair as if to mess it up.
“Hey, I did tidy it!”
“Oh please, it was practically a bird’s nest.”
“Don’t you know the phrase ‘order within chaos’? I planned this style carefully.”
He dropped onto the sofa, chuckling. Though they hadn’t seen each other in a while, they slipped right back into joking around, as if no time had passed. The atmosphere felt cozy.
Yes—Manager Kim wanted to stick around at least until Hyunseung’s new track was done. He should help see it through so Hyunseung could reach even greater heights.
Of course, he’d probably manage fine without me anyway…
“Huh? What’s all this?”
Lost in thought, Manager Kim noticed some scattered documents on the table.
“They look like real estate papers?”
“Yeah, I just bought a new apartment.”
“But it’s only been half a year since you got your jeonse place, and now you’re buying outright?”
Hyunseung, unruffled, gathered the documents into an envelope. Indeed, for Hyunseung, this was no big deal. Steady income plus the contract money from collaborating with Man Records…
Buying a single apartment seemed almost modest for him.
“Wow. It’s been just one year, and you’ve reached this point. I feel proud.”
“I’m actually behind schedule.”
“Honestly, if you’d always taken the safe route, maybe you’d have reaped even crazier success.”
“Still, it’s been fun, right?”
“That ‘fun’ of yours gave my heart palpitations all the time.”
They both snickered.
But owning property—
Those two words weighed heavily on Manager Kim’s mind. A sting of envy pricked him. He was only human, after all.
When will I be able to own my own place?
But this wasn’t the time for daydreaming.
“I’ll head off, then.”
“So soon?”
“Your OST for Animal Island drops at midnight, remember?”
“So?”
“So, I’m off to the PR department to push them, obviously.”
Smiling, Manager Kim held out his fist. Hyunseung lightly bumped fists with him.
“Thanks.”
“It’s my job.”
Yes, supporting Hyunseung was simply what he should do.
Three days after the Animal Island OST release, it wasn’t a big event for LS Entertainment as a whole—since it wasn’t from one of the company’s main artists—but to those close to Hyunseung, it was significant.
From the day of release, Manager Kim had swung by daily, updating Hyunseung on the tracks’ reception. Today, he again finished his morning tasks, gathered some documents, and set off for Hyunseung’s studio.
“Because this isn’t a standard mainstream release, we can’t track metrics the usual way, but user feedback is apparently quite positive.”
He skimmed the data, casually adding:
“Not bad for a game insert track.”
“That’s enough for me. It’s meant for the players.”
“I’m sure it’ll keep growing. On that note—cafeteria?”
Hyunseung stood up.
“I’m in a good mood; let’s eat out somewhere.”
“You’re treating?”
“What are you saying? We’ll split.”
Manager Kim feigned a sulky look, clicking his tongue.
“Rich people are the worst.”
Yet he couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto his face—he was glad to be grabbing lunch with Hyunseung again.
“Hyunseung, you don’t mean this building here is the apartment you bought recently?”
Manager Kim gazed up at the tall, upscale residential tower.
“Yeah. Thought we could look around.”
“So that’s your excuse for lunch? You just wanted to show off, right?”
“Exactly—make you a bit jealous.”
Manager Kim gave a short chuckle and looked at the building again. It soared majestically in the heart of Seoul; it was definitely on another level.
Entering the lobby, he felt a sense of displacement, like this wasn’t a place for people like him. Even after they took an elevator to a certain unit, the new-apartment smell was disorienting.
“Wow…”
A gasp escaped him. The polished entry, the glass doors revealing a spacious living room—like a set from a show.
“Nice, huh?”
Hyunseung said, opening the interior doors.
“You can see it’s good in one glance.”
“Come inside and check out the rooms.”
“I’d rather just eat.”
But Hyunseung tugged on his arm, insistent.
“Come on, look around with me.”
Giving in, Manager Kim roamed the rooms like a fish in water, mentally imagining how he might use them, before returning to the living room to take in the view outside the balcony.
“Hey, is that the Han River, out there?”
“Yep. It’s not super close, but you can see it.”
“This is insane.”
Moving closer to the balcony, he saw both the company they worked for and the hospital his mother was in. Great location in central Seoul.
“You want to live here, huh?”
Hyunseung sidled up with that question.
“Who wouldn’t, obviously?”
“Then want to buy it off me?”
He presented some folded papers, still held under his arm.
“No thanks. Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not joking.”
“If you’re serious, that’s even worse, you fool!”
Manager Kim didn’t even look at the documents but waved them away.
“In this business, if you’re too generous, sharks will swarm in and bleed you dry.”
He added a mild scolding, turning down the offer.
“But you wouldn’t be like that, right?”
“No, but a place like this must require a monthly payment close to an office worker’s entire salary.”
“Mortgages are for those who bought with borrowed money. I just pay my taxes, that’s all.”
“Why are you acting naive? You know that close friends must be extra careful about money?”
Hyunseung nodded vigorously.
“Of course, the closer you are, the more thorough you should be.”
“Then how do you think it looks, you casually offering me a place like this…?”
“So let’s draw up a ‘monthly rental contract,’ dear tenant.”
Seeing the words “monthly rental?” Manager Kim peered at the paper again. At the top, it read something like “Real Estate Monthly Lease Agreement.”
“What—you’re going to charge me rent?”
“You just said we should keep things formal, because we’re close.”
Manager Kim felt a bit sheepish for having jumped to conclusions. Right, who would give away a place like this for free? Even with lots of money, nobody was so rich they weren’t mindful of it.
But he was embarrassed, so he responded in a mocking tone:
“You’re stingy, you know that? Rich folks are the worst! How do I afford monthly rent on a place like this?”
“Look over the agreement before deciding. Taking our… history… into account, I set it accordingly.”
Hyunseung was about to spread the contract out again when:
Bzzzzzzt—
A text from his landlord popped up on Manager Kim’s phone:
Are you renewing the jeonse lease or not? Let me know ASAP, so I know if I should find a new tenant.
He couldn’t answer right now. Even though someone had paid the hospital bill for his mother, he didn’t have an extra fifty million won lying around. Suddenly, this fancy apartment felt worlds away from his reality.
No, he couldn’t live here.
“Anyway, I don’t need it. Find someone else.”
Then:
“Let’s go eat.”
Manager Kim turned to leave, but Hyunseung just stood there, firm.
“Just sign the monthly lease with me.”
Staring at Hyunseung, Manager Kim shook his head.
“If you can handle the jeonse deposit, maybe. Monthly rent is just money burned. I can’t do that.”
“I noticed from that text it’s about time for you to renew your jeonse contract. Just contract with me instead.”
“Talk to a realtor and find another tenant. I won’t do monthly rent, period.”
Hyunseung pressed the contract at him again:
“But this place is practically half a lumpsum, half monthly. A quasi-jeonse style.”
“Sheesh, you’re so tight.”
“You could at least see the details before deciding.”
Grumbling, Manager Kim said, “Fine, I’ll look at it,” taking the contract.
“Huh?”
His eyes went wide as he read.
“Hyunseung, the zero is missing in the monthly rate? Must be a typo?”
“No, it’s correct: Ten thousand, hundred thousand, yep—ten ‘man’ won. Ten thousand won times that is a hundred thousand. That’s 100,000 KRW a month (approximately $70).”
“That can’t be right. No place like this rents for just 100,000 a month.”
An apartment of this size would normally cost at least a million won per month, even with a big deposit. Yet the contract said a 50 million won deposit and monthly rent of only 100,000 won.
“So you tailored this for me, specifically?”
“I said I’d let you see it and decide.”
“I appreciate it, but you’d be losing money. I can’t do that.”
Anyone else would see that monthly rate and assume it was some kind of scam or a joke. If this were real, you’d have a line of hopeful tenants wrapping around Seoul just to sign.
“You’re always so shrewd about checking your own contracts, like an old-fashioned mother-in-law, but you bring me this nonsense?”
“It’s purely an investment property. It doesn’t really matter if I get monthly rent right away. It won’t change my financial situation.”
He was right. For Hyunseung, who earned so much in royalties, an extra million or two a month was negligible. Manager Kim momentarily considered swallowing his pride and accepting that logic.
“Right, but it’s kind of insulting…”
Still…
He wasn’t sure he deserved such luxury. After all, it wasn’t Manager Kim’s help that made Hyunseung succeed; Hyunseung got here through his own talents and choices. Manager Kim had no rightful claim to special favors, especially without reason.
“Anyway, it’s too one-sided. I can’t do it.”
He spoke firmly, and Hyunseung’s face shifted. He was definitely thinking something. His lips parted, and after a pause:
“Mm…”
He exhaled deeply from his throat.
“What if this ‘loss’…”
Then asked a meaningful question:
“…is one I’m taking for my own future? Wouldn’t that be an investment?”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Look at it this way: if you live here, you’ll be closer to the company, so you’ll be around to watch over me more closely.”
“So basically, deliver food to your studio every day?”
“You caught on.”
ManagerKim, seeing Hyunseung’s mischievous grin, let out a breathy chuckle in return.
At last, the smile faded, and Hyunseung said:
“So let’s both bear a bit of a loss – you stay here until I decide to move on.”
Manager Kim’s eyes flicked from the contract to Hyunseung’s face. He hadn’t told anyone about his plan to switch jobs yet. But the way Hyunseung was acting, it felt like he already knew – as if he was trying to persuade him to stay. Then a thought struck him: What if… the hospital bills…
“Was it you?”
“What do you mean?”
“My ‘tall benefactor.’”
Hyunseung theoretically shouldn’t know Manager Kim’s private burdens, but who else would spontaneously show him such goodwill? Considering the kindness Hyunseung was offering right now, it felt plausible.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Hyunseung’s vague answer and shrugging shoulders confirmed it for Manager Kim. This kid had never tried to hide a good deed before, so his feigned innocence looked awkward.
“How about lunch now?”
Yes, after a year of working so closely, Manager Kim could read him like an open book. Trying to hide the embarrassment, Hyunseung was leaving first.
“Huh…”
Watching Hyunseung’s back as he headed for the door, Manager Kim raked a hand over his face.
“So how the hell am I supposed to leave you behind…?”
Yes.
In that moment, his once rock-solid resolve fell to pieces.
Note:
The jeonse system is a unique way of renting a home, mostly seen in South Korea, and it’s a bit different from the typical renting most people are used to.
In essence, jeonse is like giving a big down payment on your temporary home, without having to pay monthly rent, knowing that you’ll get your money back when your lease ends.
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