The next day, Manager Kim was struck by a simultaneous wave of exhaustion and hangover from the previous night’s protracted meeting.
But it didn’t last long.
Manager Kim, long time no see. You’ve been well, I hope? Since you handled HS’s exclusive interview, please help me land the exclusive with Choi Jihyun this time. In return, I’ll keep silent (take it to the grave, in fact) about any connection between Choi Ji hyun and HS. You know I’m good at keeping secrets.
The moment he sat down and began checking the emails he’d missed yesterday, the message from Gye Jin‑seong leapt out at him.
Ugh, that sobers you right up.
Should he call this a favor? Manager Kim reread the short email several times.
Such vague, suggestive lines: “I’ll stay quiet about the link between Choi Jihyun and HS.”
And tacking on that final “You know I keep secrets” was clearly meant to confirm that he held yet another secret.
Right, the other secret was the failed attempt by an LS Entertainment idol leader to buy marijuana. It something Gye had agreed to hush up in exchange for that previous HS interview.
What a piece of work.
How had the guy found out this time? Did he have five‑hundred eyes and ears?
No. Was he even sure? Maybe he was just fishing. If he really knew, he would’ve tailed them to work already.
“Ha….”
Still, because the email came from Gye Jin-seong, who was no ordinary reporter, Manager Kim couldn’t simply ignore it.
Revealing it wouldn’t cripple the company, but Hyunseung would hate it.
Which meant they couldn’t just sit and wait for the bomb to go off.
“Let’s hear Hyunseung’s opinion first.”
Manager Kim rose at once and headed for Hyunseung’s private studio.
In Hyunseung’s studio
“You should’ve at least brought coffee if you’re going to dump that on me.”
“Sorry. I was so shocked I ran straight here and forgot.”
Hyunseung clicked his tongue, disappointed. “Well, can’t be helped.”
Watching him, Manager Kim asked, half‑bewildered, “You’re okay? That drama‑king… no, Gye Jin-seong—seems to have realized HS and Choi Jihyun are the same person.”
Hyunseung shrugged, unbothered. “So what? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“True, but I thought you didn’t want it revealed.”
“I figured it might come out someday.”
His composure made Manager Kim feel silly for worrying. “So we just ignore him?”
Right. Hyunseung never got riled easily.
Honestly, at times like this he seemed more like an old soul than a delicate flower.
“Yeah. People have been talking anyway. It’s just one more voice, and there’s no solid proof.”
“I guess…”
“Let the ones who believe it believe, and the ones who don’t, don’t. Watching them fight is kind of fun.”
“You’ve got some twisted hobbies.”
“Music’s all about how you choose to take it. Same with how people take my existence. Let them process it their own way.”
Manager Kim, hand to heart as though enlightened, was admiring him when…
“Ah, wait.”
Hyunseung said something unexpected. “I’ll just cooperate with the interview.”
Manager Kim objected. “What? Why? That’s handing him proof you’re the same person!”
“Let’s flip him into an ally and a card we can play whenever we need.”
Sometimes Hyunseung’s boldness scared Manager Kim. Barely two years in, yet he already thought like a battle‑hardened industry veteran.
What kind of person would he become? It was almost awe‑inspiring.
“You’re really going to charm that drama‑king?”
“Sure. Besides, I’ve bet on Choi Jihyun in this little wager so an interview might boost my odds.”
“Huh?”
“I’m in the game now; might as well play to win.”
His quick thinking didn’t always go in the best directions…
Looking at the mischievous spark in Hyunseung’s eyes, Manager Kim could almost see the 100,000 won he’d wagered evaporating into thin air.
Or maybe not. He had been consulting tarot so much lately that visions of the future were starting to appear.
Later that day at the CEO’s office.
Manager Kim jolted awake again and again that day.
Why am I here? he wondered, glancing around.
No question. This was the CEO’s office, with CEO Jeon Nam‑il seated at the head to his right. And this was no dream.
“Manager Kim.”
Just that one word sent a chill down his spine. “Yes, sir…”
This wasn’t a board meeting, a department head meeting, a quarterly review, or a big‑project meeting.
Why did he summon me?
No one else was present; no sign anyone else would arrive.
“Thank you for coming when you’re busy. Let’s have some tea first.”
“Not at all. Thank you for inviting me.”
Jeon Nam‑il’s polite yet unreadable tone always unnerved him.
He was harder to read than even Hyunseung.
“I hear Min Hyunseung’s contract renews year‑to‑year. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Then it’s been a year and a half. Renewal season is coming again.”
“Time flies so fast…”
Felt like they’d signed only the other day.
“Have you ever talked with him about re‑signing?”
“Honestly, I haven’t. I can’t force him.”
(Though in a dream he’d whined after Hyunseung stepped on the contract he’d offered, but that was a joke between them.)
If he chose to leave, Kim couldn’t stop him.
“I see.”
Jeon nodded, then uncrossed his legs and laced his fingers, a sign saying he was ready to get serious.
“You know him best. What would persuade him to renew?”
Manager Kim hesitated; absurd answers swirled through his head like a year‑long free venti pass at Café Terrace, a year of cafeteria meal tickets, a PlayStation…
But blurting that out could get him booted from the office or the entire industry.
Gulp. Sweat beaded on his palms.
Ah, got it!
He slapped his knee. “He’s deeply attached to his family. If we could do something helpful for them, he might be more positive.”
Jeon raised an eyebrow, leaned back, and murmured, “Family, huh…”
Apparently satisfied, he sipped his tea and nodded to himself.
All ManagerKim could do was clink his own cup to fill the silence.
Clink.
Tap.
Clink.
Tap.
After a while, Jeon spoke, pleased. “Thanks to you, I think I have a good proposal.”
What proposal? Manager Kim was dying to know but somehow feared the answer.
At last, the CEO dismissed him.
“See you next time.”
As he reached the door, the voice behind him added, level as ever, “Before half a year’s up, I’ll have a private meeting with him. Let him know.”
For some reason, sweat ran down his back again.
Gye Jin-seong at LS Entertainment
Gye Jin-seong loved the sharp, urban scent that hit his nose every time he entered LS Entertainment’s building.
Nice to be here so often.
An odd thrill always came with an official visit, thanks to Manager Kim grabbing the bait.
He should send a thank‑you later. Not that Kim would appreciate it.
“Hm‑hm.”
Humming, he strolled toward the small conference room mentioned in the email. In his mind, HS and Choi Jihyun were already confirmed as the same person.
Expecting them to be late as usual, he himself arrived ten minutes past the appointed time.
Knock, knock.
He tapped politely, sure the room would be empty.
Click.
A voice he shouldn’t have heard came at once: “Come in.”
“Huh?”
First shock: someone was already inside.
Second shock: that someone sat there wearing the very helmet HS had worn on TV recently.
Had he never intended to hide? Gye had expected makeup, or at least a motorcycle helmet he’d remove while insisting he was someone else.
But no. He sat there brazenly as HS. Always one step ahead of expectations.
That’s why he’s fun.
Feigning calm, Gye took the seat opposite him.
The other spoke first. “So what will you do now?”
Straight to interrogation?
“Sorry? Do what about…?”
“Now that you’ve confirmed Choi Jihyun is HS… what will you do?”
Hard to reply when the other was this brazen. Was sheer cheekiness today’s theme?
“I’m not doing anything. I’m here for Choi Jihyun’s exclusive interview.”
“Fine. I’ll grant it on condition you never open your mouth about this, ever.”
“Ah… okay.”
Somehow, he felt off‑balance from the start. He held the secret, yet they were the confident one.
Again: that was what made it fascinating. In years on the entertainment beat he’d met rude, eccentric, weird types but someone haughty yet oddly persuasive? A first. They tugged at his curiosity.
Clap!
He smacked his hands together to banish idle thoughts.
“Alright, let’s dive right in. First question—about the hot ‘Blue Spring’ MV…”
…
…
“Thank you for the lengthy interview.”
He hadn’t seen the face under that rainbow‑tinted visor, but the conversation was smooth and engrossing.
He’d drawn out every tidbit the public craved: why he joined the MV project, the New York Philharmonic collaboration, thoughts on certain critics, feelings about chart competition with HS though that was funny, competing with oneself.
He seemed sincere.
HS, no, Choi Jihyun treated the battle against himself quite seriously.
Wait…
So is Choi Jihyun the real name? Then where does “HS” come from? “Choi Jihyun” has an H but no S…
“Um…”
Unable to suppress the swirl of questions, Gye asked, “One last thing, if I may?”
“Go ahead.”
“Is Choi Jihyun your birth name?”
“No.”
“Ah, then is HS from your initials?”
“Also no.”
Both wrong? His curiosity spiked.
“Then… could you tell me what ‘Choi Jihyun’ means?”
He couldn’t hold it in any longer. If no answer, so be it; if yes, then it was a jackpot.
“Uh, hmm…”
Choi scratched the back of his helmet hard enough to click. Maybe there was a story.
“Ha…”
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“Choe‑gang Ji‑jon Hyunseung….1”
“Sorry? What? Your voice was too low.”
Unfortunately, it never reached Gye’s ears.
“I definitely told you,” Choi replied and briskly left the room.
“Damn…”
Apparently…
“Did he say Choe‑gwan‑ji‑myeon2? No, that can’t be…”
Gye had completely misheard.
- “최강 지존 현승” (Choe-gang Ji-jon Hyun-seung)
choe-gang (최강) – the strongest / unrivalled / top-tier
ji-jon (지존) – supreme / ultimate one
Hyun-seung (현승) – the given name
“Hyunseung, the strongest and supreme.” ↩︎ - “Choe-gwan-ji-myeon” is a comedic mishearing and does not have an actual meaning in Korean. ↩︎
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