Chapter 03
2022.
A small agency founded with seven actors and five employees.
Leader Actors.
By 2025, Leader Actors was in crisis.
Their biggest star and the company’s lifeline, Jang Choong-won, had just finished two consecutive dramas with ratings stuck in the 1% range. Having completely lost his motivation, he now spent every day at a fishing spot.
The employees couldn’t even keep up with the endless supply of fish he brought back in coolers every week.
CEO Gam Seong-beom let out a heavy sigh.
“Su-han… don’t tell me it’s spicy fish stew again.”
“Just eat it, hyung.”
“Damn it, is this a talent agency or a fish market?!”
Meanwhile, Do Jae-yeon, who had started as a part-time employee and now handled just about every miscellaneous task in the company, looked up from binge-watching dramas.
He had been watching them one after another, unable to believe ratings could really fall to 1% twice in a row, hoping to find some clue as to what had gone wrong.
He shrugged.
“Just eat it.”
“There’s a limit! Do you know how many meals this makes? Sashimi for dinner, spicy fish stew for lunch—over and over! Let’s just buy something! I’ll pay!”
Seeing the CEO on the verge of exploding, Jae-yeon snapped back.
“Then what are we supposed to do with the poor fish?!”
“How about feeling sorry for me for once?!”
The two immediately started bickering again.
While tending the bubbling fish stew, Vice President Gam Su-han spoke up.
“Jae-yeon is only twenty-six, and he eats whatever he’s given. You’re almost forty, hyung. Stop being picky.”
Just as they were having the same argument they had every day, the office doorbell rang.
All three instantly went pale and stared at the intercom.
The CEO slowly turned to Jae-yeon.
“Hey… Choong-won came by yesterday, didn’t he? Why’s the bell ringing again…? I can’t eat any more fish. My wife asked if the company went bankrupt and I got a job at a seafood shop.”
“Honestly… I’m dreaming about fish now. Live ones…”
The two men shuddered.
Still working on an InDesign layout, Jae-yeon clicked his tongue and checked the intercom.
“…Huh?”
He tilted his head, then pressed the button to unlock the door.
Only then did Seong-beom ask,
“Who is it?”
“No idea.”
“Jae-yeon! Why would you open the door if you don’t know who it is?!”
“He looked ridiculously handsome, so I figured somebody must’ve cast him.”
“Ha… What kind of bullshit logic is that?”
“Hyung, don’t say it’s bullshit. You’ll hurt the guy’s feelings if he hears.”
The ever-gentle Su-han untied his apron as he spoke.
At that moment, footsteps approached from beyond the frosted glass entrance.
Still…
Everyone was secretly excited after hearing the visitor was handsome.
Seong-beom hurried over and the automatic door slid open.
Standing outside was a former child actor dressed in old, worn clothes.
The three inside and the one outside simply stared at each other.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
After a few awkward seconds, the automatic door quietly slid shut on its own.
Only after it closed did the three turn toward each other almost simultaneously.
“Who the heck is he? Which one of us cast him?”
“Wasn’t me.”
“I was a part-timer until recently.”
After all three denied any involvement, Su-han calmly pointed out,
“Hyung… even if we had tried recruiting him, do you really think someone who looks like that would’ve come here? A face like his would’ve received hundreds of business cards.”
“Exactly! If none of us cast him, why would someone that gorgeous come to our agency?”
As they continued whispering among themselves, the young actor outside knocked on the glass door.
Since his face wasn’t registered in the building’s recognition system, he couldn’t get in.
“Excuse me…”
Only then did Seong-beom rush over again and open the door.
“Ah! Sorry, sorry! Come in! Why are you soaked?”
“It suddenly started raining.”
“Right… of course it did…”
Lee Hee-yoon had what could only be described as a spotless face.
Even after being drenched by the rain, he somehow looked like he’d smell of freshly washed fabric if you stood close enough.
A face capable of becoming a thousand different people…
Yet, in the end, beautiful in a way that seemed unlike anyone else in the world.
That was the first impression shared by all three founders of Leader Actors, including CEO Gam Seong-beom.
They couldn’t exactly leave a rain-soaked kid standing there, so they handed him a set of dry clothes they found lying around the office and sent him to the shower to warm up first.
After he disappeared into the bathroom, the three gathered to figure out why someone like him had shown up at their tiny agency.
Finally, Seong-beom declared with complete seriousness,
“This is it.”
“What is?”
“A connection from a past life.”
Jae-yeon immediately shot him down.
“Can you stop saying nonsense like you’re absolutely certain?”
Su-han clapped his hands as another thought struck him.
“Hyung… is he your son?”
“Oh! Maybe! Now that I think about it, he does look like me.”
“Not even remotely. I told you to commit to a relationship for once.”
With the two older men taking turns spouting increasingly ridiculous theories, Jae-yeon rubbed his aching forehead.
Even he, however, couldn’t think of any realistic explanation.
A rising star that no one had recruited had somehow walked into this tiny, struggling company.
At that point, the “connection from a past life” theory was starting to sound strangely plausible.
Just then, after drying himself off, Lee Hee-yoon stepped out of the bathroom.
The newcomer was so dazzling that CEO Gam Seong-beom instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes and said…
“Yeah… There’s no way he’s my son. I have at least that much of a conscience.”
Then, as if he thought he’d seen something wrong, he lowered his hand.
Beneath CEO Gam Seong-beom’s flashy printed T-shirt—his usual outfit since he practically lived at the office—were unmistakable signs of abuse.
“Hey… what happened to your arm?”
The carefree expression that had been plastered across Gam Seong-beom’s face instantly crumpled.
* * *
Seeing people who had already died wasn’t exactly comforting.
My gaze drifted back and forth between Vice President Gam Su-han and future Director Do Jae-yeon—both people who had been dead by the time I regressed.
Technically, even if they’d lived, I would’ve had no reason to ever see them again.
…
That was a lie.
The moment the automatic doors slid open and I saw those three idiots huddled together, trying to figure out why I’d come here, I felt relieved.
I’d never cried in my life over anything except acting.
Not even at Gam Su-han’s funeral.
Not even at Do Jae-yeon’s.
But now…
I felt like I might.
Maybe it was because I was back in a teenager’s body. My emotions weren’t as easy to control anymore.
Even the familiar smell of fish that lingered around this office somehow felt nostalgic.
“Why’s your arm like that?”
Lost in memories, I hadn’t heard him the first time.
Gam Seong-beom raised his voice, and I instinctively took a step backward.
The instant he realized I’d reacted as though I felt threatened, Gam Su-han hurried over.
“No, no. We’re not angry. Your name was Hui-yoon, right?”
I was still much shorter than Do Jae-yeon, who was only around 170 centimeters tall.
He stared at me with a face full of shock.
Honestly, I was just as shocked.
Do Jae-yeon was only twenty-six.
Ten years older than me.
When I’d first joined this agency, he’d seemed like such a grown-up.
Looking at him now…
He looked like a kid.
A kid who, in my previous life, had thrown himself between me and my uncle’s family to protect me.
…
Come to think of it…
The last thing Do Jae-yeon had ever said to me was:
“You’re one seriously egalitarian little asshole.”
So now I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything.
Where do you think I learned to be such an asshole?
From that loose-screw CEO over there?
Or gentle, saintly Gam Su-han?
No.
Every bit of it came from Do Jae-yeon.
Seriously, who was it that taught me all those swear words so I’d have something to yell when my uncle threatened me?
Exactly.
Still…
The fact that I ended up using those same colorful insults equally on writers, directors, and producers alike was what eventually got my career uprooted.
So maybe…
I’d better just keep my mouth shut.
Except when acting.
The hot-tempered CEO finally spoke.
“We’re going to the police. Right now.”
“I already tried.”
“What?”
“My uncle’s a police officer. It didn’t really accomplish anything.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?! They beat you until you’re covered in injuries!”
“I didn’t come here asking you to fix that.”
As usual…
I couldn’t hold my temper.
I was starting to get irritated.
“I came here because this is an agency.”
“Now is not the time for work—”
“I’m really fucking good at acting.”
…
God damn it.
Watch your mouth, Hui-yoon.
The three people from Leaders stared at me.
Well…
Two of them frowned.
Gam Su-han, meanwhile, had already opened the window, claiming the fish smell was too strong, and was looking out into the distance.
I knew him well enough.
He was definitely holding back tears.
He was basically a human emotional barometer.
That’s why reading scripts with him had always been so useful.
There were plenty of times I couldn’t tell what a scene was supposed to feel like.
But then Gam Su-han would start bawling while reading it aloud.
That was enough for me.
Ah.
This scene is supposed to be sad.
This one is moving.
Do Jae-yeon had always loved that sensitivity of his.
I’d tried so hard to forget.
But maybe…
The only good memories I had were the ones I’d shared with these three.
From the smallest everyday moments…
To the joy of success…
To the bitterness of failure…
Not a single one had faded.
Maybe that was the downside of being an actor.
Too many memories stayed lodged inside your mind.
Too many scripts.
Too many lives that weren’t even your own.
Nothing was ever truly forgotten.
Suppressing his anger with visible effort, Gam Seong-beom spoke again.
“Right. You’re the victim. No wonder you’re not thinking straight. Leave it to the adults. First we’ll get you somewhere safe—a protection center or something.”
“Hyung.”
Just as I’d expected…
Gam Su-han turned around with tears streaming down his face.
“He said he came looking for an agency.”
“Look at him! Have you seen what they did to this kid? Is now really the time to worry about acting?”
“Do you think he knows what he needs less than we do?”
Gam Su-han answered quietly.
“Sit him down.”
“And watch him act first.”
“He said he’s good.”
Being kind is hard.
Being kind in the entertainment industry is even harder.
I honestly couldn’t imagine how strong someone had to be to stay that way in a place like this.
Gam Su-han was that strong.
That’s why he understood what I needed before anyone else did.
So why…
Why did someone like him die so young?
Now that I thought about it…
Something didn’t add up.
Sure, companies fail.
That happens.
But how did two founding members of this company end up dead…
…while another simply disappeared?
And it wasn’t just those three.
Jang Chung-won—the actor who could practically be considered one of the company’s founding members—also lost his life not long after I left.
…
The more I thought about it…
The stranger it all became.
While I sank deeper into those thoughts, I heard Gam Seong-beom speaking.
“…Fine. But let’s take pictures of those injuries first.”
“We need evidence.”
“Okay.”
That…
was actually a pretty good idea.
Those photographs would become evidence I’d need someday.
