After only a few drinks Kwak Yeonji’s face was already crimson.
Then her eyes began to glaze over, and before long she clung to the bottle as though trying to seize control of the mood.
“Come on, drink more! Sunbae-nim, have a glass! Oppas, have a glass too!”
We looked at one another with uneasy eyes, but Yeonji kept refilling every empty glass at the top of her voice, oblivious.
Her tolerance seemed far lower than ours, and now that she could no longer manage her nasal tone she spoke in a normal voice.
Once the grating nasal sound disappeared, an unexpectedly pleasant voice emerged.
Steady and at a comfortable pitch, it was far more attractive than the nasal tone.
“Yeonji, stop drinking now.”
“Why? Sunbae-nim, I’m fine!”
Seeing her like this, I finally understood why she never drank at after-parties, and a sigh slipped out.
Kim Seunghun, noticing my discomfort, could not even meet my eyes out of guilt.
Whether he sensed it or not, Lee Jungwoo said to him,“Let’s go have a smoke.”
“Huh? No, I…”
Seunghun glanced at me for permission, and I answered with the brightest smile I could muster.
“It’s all right, go ahead… ha-ha…”
“Uh… okay, fine.”
Once Seunghun and Jungwoo left, the room with only Yeonji and me filled so thickly with awkward air it felt about to overflow.
The tension tightening around my throat made me stare blankly at my phone.
I regretted that it was a 2G phone, not a smartphone.
Clutching the silent device, I glanced sideways and saw Yeonji silently refilling her own empty glass beside me, her expression unusually sad.
During our graduation film Yeonji had been fiercely proud.
She had hated revealing her feelings, yet now, perhaps because she was drunk, raw emotion showed on her face for the first time.
“Is something on my face? Shall I pour you another?”
The instant our eyes met, the sadness vanished and she forced a smile.
“No, I’m done. You should stop too.”
“I can drink plenty, you know? If Sunbae finishes that, I’ll stop too!”
At my words, her eyes flew wide.
Though her face was flushed she was still beautiful; I shook my head to keep my wits.
I had not drunk nearly enough to be tipsy, but if I actually got drunk something bad might happen.
So I set a water glass where she could not see, pretended to drink, and poured my liquor into it.
I could not ruin my second life over alcohol.
“I drank, so really, stop now…”
“I was hurt, you know.”
“Huh?”
Even drunk, Yeonji stared at me with huge eyes.
“Why was it Kim Hyosun and not me in the graduation film…?”
Her large dark-brown eyes felt ready to swallow me, so I widened my own to stay focused.
“It was a fair audition process. Ha-ha, it was two years ago, I barely remember.”
“Cheh, liar.”
She drained her glass in one go, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, the smile gone, eyes shining as if tears might fall.
“My pride was shredded back then, you know? Seriously! Does it make sense that I lost to some nobody? Huh? That Kim Hyo-sun girl still hasn’t even debuted in a feature! Your judgment isn’t always right, is it?”
Kim Hyosun, lead of the graduation film “Woman in the Locked Room,” is now rising in a famous director’s movie.
That director vanished, but with her skill she’ll soar in other films too.
She’s still polishing her craft, yet once past this stage her acting range will broaden, and that will be her greatest weapon.
“She’ll do well. She’s good. Even if she hasn’t debuted yet, she’ll break out soon.”
“What about me…?”
Yeonji looked at me as though consulting a fortune-teller.
“What am I, a shaman?”
“Sunbae, rumor says your eye for actors is like a shaman’s.”
She had a point.
Almost no one else would have cast Junsik-hyung so perfectly—an actor not handsome, not in his twenties, whose ordinariness became a charm.
Because that worked, Desirelessness succeeded.
“So what about me?”
“You’re… uh…”
If I kept staring, I feared the image would burn into my brain, so I fixed on the space between her brows.
“Sorry. I don’t know.”
“Ha… so I really can’t act, huh…?”
“W-what…?”
Yeonji lowered her head onto the table.
“I know I’m bad. That’s why I’m working so hard.”
Her reaction was nothing like I expected.
Back during Blue Moon we had cursed each other out; now I wondered if I had mistaken her for someone else.
Seeing her so intimidated, I shut my eyes.
The film wasn’t even in planning yet, but I felt as if a project for Yeonji were sketching itself in my mind, and I shook my head.
You’re just drunk right now!
Remember filming Blue Moon!
How hellish it was! You couldn’t sleep from stress!
Do you want that again? Even twenty years later those memories are vivid!
“In people’s minds, no matter how hard I try, I’m labeled as someone who can’t act. Sure, I messed things up, but still… do you know what directors say at auditions?”
Her voice was small and beaten down.
Staring at the wall, I answered, “What do they say?”
“When someone talks, you should look at them… forget it.”
She sighed deeply and emptied another glass.
I could not tell her to stop when annoyance furrowed her brow.
“They ask if I’m fine with barely any lines. That’s when I realize—ah, I’ll just be a flower vase again and go home! They expect nothing! I went thinking it was a substantial role! They want to cast me but cut my screen time! At least give me a chance to act! But those crazy directors… no, this is wrong.”
She slurred slightly, noticing she might be crossing a line, and paused.
In dramas or films, if they cast Yeonji it would be as a supporting role to freshen the atmosphere.
Her acting lacked for a lead, yet her face was too striking for a minor bit.
While I thought this, she stared, waiting for my reply.
I had to say something.
“Ah, really?”
My hollow response made her scowl.
“What did you say?”
“No, nothing. Yeah. Never mind.”
I looked back into space.
“Don’t pretend to sympathize so half-heartedly.”
“Huh?”
Bang!
“Don’t talk like that!”
She slammed the table and shouted.
Caught off guard, I just blinked at her.
“Hey! Kwak Yeonji! What are you doing!”
Kim Seunghun barged in at the perfect moment and restrained her.
Lee Jung-woo sighed at the scene.
“Director Gyeong, sorry… I’ll set up another time. She’s really drunk. See you.”
“I’m not drunk! If not for my manager oppa I wouldn’t be here! Directors are all the same!”
“See you next time.”
While I put on my shoes, Seunghun tried to gather Yeonji, who scarcely knew what she was saying, and I walked outside.
A man hurried past me into the room I’d left.
Stepping out, I pulled my coat against the chill air.
My breath steamed, tinged with a faint smell of alcohol, leaving a small regret.
“Still sober…”
I had drunk too little to feel it.
Since I drank to get tipsy, my clear head felt disappointing. I hailed a taxi to go home, and right on cue snow began to fall.
“Whoa, it’s coming down hard all of a sudden.”
The driver glanced outside, and on the radio a Kim Kwangseok song played.
In my small memories, what am I filling my life with.
“Ah, great song, right? Kwangseok-hyung left too soon. Seeing him live was my dream.”
“Yes. Ha-ha…”
The driver hummed off-key, cheerful despite the melancholy song.
Watching the heavy snowflakes outside, accompanied by his humming, I wondered why I had hated Yeonji so much back then.
For me it was over twenty years ago, and she never even experienced it.
Does hatred that existed only in myself need to carry into this new life?
With that question I recalled the first time I met her two years ago.
“Hm…”
Back then, I assumed she relied solely on looks and cared nothing for acting.
She had seemed exactly the same as the Yeonji I knew: proud, unable to accept losing.
I still remember her grinding her teeth and glaring at me when I won the award at the graduation showcase.
But the woman I saw today was completely different.
Whatever had happened in two years…
I felt a moment’s curiosity, then shook my head.
We probably would not meet again anyway.
Next day.
The moment I arrived at Seonghyun Pictures, Junseong thrust a newspaper at me without even looking at my face.
[Taesan Group vows to contribute to the film industry! Acquires Future Film Studio! Launches Taesan Pictures! Stirring up Korean cinema! Planning with Director Kim Surin of <Our Boss>!]
“Filthy bastards, transparent as glass. Sheesh… isn’t this too dirty? Even Anton Ohno would bow to such dirty play.”
Jun-seong clucked his tongue at the article.
“Aren’t they disgusting? Taesan brats. Is this what a proper corporation does? Laying bait with a film festival to grab a seat…”
“Yeah.”
Kicking off the floor, Junseong rolled over on his wheeled chair.
“Hey, the chairman called me in because of this. And that’s all the reaction you’ve got?”
He looked at my face and frowned.
“Your mug’s never been great, but today it’s worse. What happened?”
Cracking a joke first, he then spoke in concern.
“Did you drink so much you blacked out? Why so silent? Did the hyungs torture you with booze?”
“Didn’t drink much.”
“Then why is your mind off in a bean field?”
“Shut up. Talk later.”
I buried my head to avoid his stare, thoughts from last night still swirling.
“Oh, come on. Speak. Don’t sulk alone again.”
“I have things to think about.”
“You met those heavy-drinking hyungs, how could you not drink?”
Propping his chin, he began deducing like Sherlock Holmes, whether to himself or for me.
“What, did they feed you Captain Q and wipe your memory? Maybe you actually drank a ton. Or…”
After ten minutes of nonstop comedy, I couldn’t take it.
“I met Kwak Yeonji yesterday.”
“Huh? Kwak Yeonji? Why was she there?”
Eyes round, he shoved his face near my slumped form.
“No idea. Her manager asked to meet.”
“Her manager? Works damn hard, arranging a private meeting with a director…”
He kicked the floor back to his desk, then shook his head as if something was off.
“Nah… that can’t be it. Anyway, I’m off to see the chairman first.”
T/N: Please drink responsibly. Good news, it seems the drinking problem in Korea is alleviating due to many factors.
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