Taewoon’s chairman was a gentleman of advanced years with a head of white hair, but no one’s thinking was more flexible than his.
Hadn’t those sharp eyes discovered the nothing-from-nowhere kid named Lee Jinmyeong?
Age aside, Chairman Seo was a man you could talk to with ease.
And yet—
“You’re wearing all your thoughts on your face. You’re thinking, ‘Why’s he being so capricious all of a sudden?’ Aren’t you?”
“I do find it a little odd. You’ve always left everything to me, after all. Don’t tell me you’re no longer happy with my work…?”
He ventured the question, and the chairman let out another hearty chuckle.
“Of course not. If I didn’t trust you, who would I trust to handle our advertising?”
“Then what’s with this person, all of a sudden?”
“As I trusted you, can’t you try trusting me this time?”
For the head of a giant corporation, it was an uncommonly guileless thing to say.
But that was exactly the Chairman Seo Yangcheol that Lee Jinmyeong knew.
“Is the kid really that good?”
“If he weren’t, would I push him in front of the great Lee Jinmyeong? I know how exacting your eye is.”
“What if I meet him and don’t like him? Am I allowed to turn him down?”
“Heh, if that’s what you want to do, then that’s what you should do. But tell you what.”
Seo Yangcheol nodded briskly.
He might be the one pushing this, but if Lee truly thought it was a no-go, he was free to do as he pleased.
The chairman added, voice full of meaning:
“How about a little wager?”
“A wager? Out of nowhere? I’m not in the mood.”
“Oh, come on, indulge me. I’ll bet you end up liking that young man. What should we put up as stakes… Right. Didn’t you say there was a car you wanted?”
“…You mean you’d give me that? The one limited to ten units worldwide?”
“Yes. If the kid suits your taste, it’s yours.”
“You’ll cover the taxes too, right, Chairman?”
“Naturally. And you—what are you staking? You’re betting you won’t like him, I take it? If you lose, what will you put up?”
“What do I even have to offer? I’ll just… shoot my best, I guess.”
The chairman burst into a booming laugh.
“That’s plenty.”
On his way out from that enigmatic meeting—
…What on earth?
Chairman Seo wouldn’t take this tack for nothing.
If he was betting his beloved car on it, then this wasn’t idle talk.
A seasoned businessman who’d survived forever in the financial world wouldn’t propose a wager he was sure to lose.
This feels… dicey. I’d better dig around as soon as I get back.
But separate from the chairman’s confidence, this parachute hire didn’t have much to recommend him.
—If you’re going to waste a face like that, hand it over to me;
—These days any rando with a few followers thinks he can strut into a movie;
—Looking like that and still having zero spark—that’s a talent of its own, I guess;
There wasn’t a single kind word; even in the short clips circulating, the kid’s acting oozed awkwardness.
Well… I suppose the recent film’s getting a bit of a response. With Director Kim Seongha at the helm and Gu Ilhwan and Kang Chaheon in the cast—would’ve been stranger if it hadn’t blown up, no?
To be brutally honest, the kid’s looks did align with Lee Jinmyeong’s taste.
But so what?
With the exception of the most recent photos, the rest were all duds.
The eyes were dead, the soul missing.
He was a blossom without fragrance, down to a T.
Empty-headed punk with nothing to his name who thinks he’s all that. What am I supposed to do with that?
He seemed the sort to be so stubborn he wouldn’t listen to a single word from anyone around him.
The only thing he’s got is his face, and he doesn’t even know how to make the most of that.
What was Lee supposed to do with someone who didn’t even know how to use his facial muscles…?
Especially when Lee Jinmyeong was the kind of director who connected with his subject through the lens and drew everything out of them.
That’s how you get synergy at its peak.
But the more he looked into it, the more certain he felt: there was no way he’d like this.
His assistant, apparently impressed by the new film, ventured:
“I don’t think you need to worry that much… He’s exactly the type you want, Director. He’s got the fundamentals as an actor, and more than anything he knows how to draw people in. It’s the first time I’ve seen a rookie who doesn’t get dwarfed sharing the frame with Kang Chaheon. Plus he’s just now breaking out via film, so he feels fresh. He’s the exact talent you’ve been asking for.”
Such nonsense.
“If he were that kind of person, don’t you think I’d have clocked him already, Sucheol?”
“Ah, please call me Charles. It’s a global era—our names should be global too.”
“Mm. Pipe down and get the setup ready.”
“You’re really going through with it? You said you don’t like him.”
I don’t. I really don’t!
If this weren’t a Taewoon campaign, he might have torn up the contract on the spot and walked away whistling.
But if Chairman Seo was acting like this, there had to be a reason.
“I’m not ungrateful. The chairman told me to at least meet him, so I’ll proceed for now. And he did say we could drop him if he doesn’t work.”
That way he’d at least have something to say to the chairman.
No way am I letting some no-account punk ruin the labor of love I’ve poured my heart into!
It was an ad that couldn’t help but succeed with any decent model.
He wasn’t going to let a notorious loose cannon he’d never even heard of wreck a painstaking passion project.
I don’t know how he sweet-talked the chairman into wedging himself in there, but I’m not going to be an easy mark.
If he still felt the same after a face-to-face, even Chairman Seo would accept it.
That kind of guy will storm off the set the moment you stop coddling him anyway, so this might actually be convenient.
He pictured Rowoon getting huffy and striding off the shoot.
Just imagining it improved his mood.
Show even a hint of attitude and I swap the model on the spot.
He’d been sharpening that resolve for days.
Even so, preparations proceeded without a hitch.
Whatever else, Lee Jinmyeong was an internationally renowned professional creative director.
Even wring a rooster’s neck and morning still comes; eventually, the day arrived.
“Director, the model’s here.”
“Already?”
Lee flicked a glance at his watch.
Exactly thirty minutes before call time.
Ordinarily, he would have thought, Nice, someone with their head screwed on straight.
Not today.
What’s this? What if we’re still setting up, why show up this early?
Checking the environment and the prepared setup in advance is basic, sure.
It isn’t only the director of photography who needs to consider how the shoot will flow.
On any other day he’d have been pleased by the auspicious start; today, no.
Once you get a burr under your saddle, everything chafes.
“He’s on his way up.”
A staffer seconded from Taewoon reported in a very stiff, nervous tone.
Maybe because the chairman had asked personally, he was plainly fussing over Rowoon.
That, too, rubbed Lee the wrong way.
Let’s see that oh-so-glorious mug up close, shall we.
Arms crossed, eyes narrowed to points, Lee stared at the door.
Ding-a-ling!
The door opened slowly.
And—
“…?”
Lee’s breath caught in his throat.
It felt like a bolt of lightning had split the top of his head.
Huh?
All the bristling battle-readiness he’d wound himself up to was gone in an instant.
In the span of a heartbeat, the battle-ready charge vanished, replaced by a cloud of floating question marks.
He couldn’t believe his own eyes.
Because behind the person who’d just walked in… a radiant light seemed to be shining.
Did I mount a light on the stairs? No… why is only he glowing?
“Impressive” turned out to be an understatement.
Nothing had ever hit Lee Jinmyeong like a thunderclap before.
The strangeness continued.
It’s not the lights…?
Like the halo in a painting of a saint, the soft glow around the newcomer’s head lingered as he moved.
Fresh and crisp, but it can’t read as clumsy. It needs a touch of luxury, too. And presence—can’t skip that. The kind of magnetism that pulls people’s eyes.
The “ideal” Lee had once described, so impossible that every crew member had clicked their tongues and asked if he’d lost his mind.
They’d ridiculed it as no different from asking for a “hot iced Americano.”
And there it was, in front of him.
“…Hello.”
The figure wreathed in light greeted him.
I’ve lost it, Lee thought.
For a simple greeting to be delivered in a voice that commanded your attention like that was insane.
—Let’s at least look at his face and see how full of himself he is.
—Pfft, nothing to see here.
—What good’s a decent face if he’s a flower with no scent?
Not even ancient history.
All the things he’d been thinking up until a few days ago—no, up until moments ago—evaporated in an instant.
—I’ll crank it so tight he runs then even the chairman won’t have much to say.
Even the private resolve he’d nursed to make the kid bolt cleanly vanished from his mind.
“I’m Lee Rowoon.”
The neat voice offered another polite greeting.
Say something!
He told himself but his body, struck dumb by lightning, wouldn’t obey.
Creak, creak.
Like a broken robot, Lee coaxed his stiff limbs into motion and managed to complete a handshake.
The beginning of the denial phase of a brand-new fandom.
The shoot proceeded more smoothly and uneventfully than he’d imagined.
From Lee Jinmyeong’s perspective, of course, it was anything but.
He was in the middle of a full-blown cognitive dissonance episode.
“Lower your head slightly. We’ll go backlit, with the light behind you.”
Even as he gave instructions, Lee didn’t expect cooperation.
He thinks his face is his fortune. He’ll refuse a backlight that throws his features into shadow!
But—
“Like this? Should I angle this way?”
“…That’s right. Perfect.”
He didn’t just fail to push back. He followed beautifully.
What’s more, he deliberately checked the lights on his side and then shifted his body to exactly the angle Lee wanted.
Against the dark background, the straight spine, the clean line of the waist, and the long run of the legs made a flawless silhouette.
No… It’s his first time. He’s not ready to show his true colors yet, that’s all.
But that wasn’t the end of it.
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