A few days after wrapping up the commercial shoot, Hyungcheol summoned me to the company, claiming he had something important to discuss.
“Hello,” I greeted hesitantly as I stepped into the office.
But Hyungcheol wasn’t there.
Instead, another man welcomed me with a casual nod.
Yoo Jinseok.
He was the only person in this company who could truly call himself an actor.
Once upon a time, he’d caught the public’s eye as the younger brother of a heroine in a weekend drama.
Now, though, he was relegated to minor roles as a supporting male lead in daily soaps.
“Oh, you’re that new guy they signed recently, huh?”
Jinseok approached, sizing me up with a slow, deliberate gaze.
“Yes, I’m Jung Hyunjae,” I replied, meeting his eyes.
“Hmm,” he mused, circling me like a hawk inspecting its prey.
“No wonder the boss is making a fuss about you.”
I followed his movements with my eyes, unsure why he was acting so strange.
“You’re too good for a place like this,” he said abruptly.
“Excuse me?”
“Get out while you still can.”
He waved a dismissive hand, gesturing for me to leave.
Escape?
What’s he talking about?
“If you were my little brother, I’d have packed you a lunch and dragged you out of here myself,” he said, shaking his head.
In dramas, he played sleazy ex-husbands or insecure, incompetent executives, but in person, he seemed… different.
Realer, somehow.
“With your potential, big companies would be fighting over you. You didn’t get scammed into coming here, did you?”
“What? No!”
I walked into this place on my own two feet.
“Then why the hell are you here? In this dead-end dump?”
Because of Kim Hyungcheol.
To me, that was a reason worth more than anything else.
“I came because they said the boss made Han Jungwoo a star,” I said carefully.
“Han Jungwoo?”
Jinseok let out a bitter laugh.
“That old man’s been feeding you pure nonsense.”
“What do you mean?”
I asked, feigning ignorance.
If this goes well, I might not even need to confront Hyungcheol directly.
It felt like I’d stumbled upon an unexpected ally.
“Made Han Jungwoo? What a load of crap. Jung Jaehyun’s the one who built him up.”
“What?”
“It’s common knowledge in this industry. After Jaehyun died, Jungwoo swooped in, took over his projects, and hit the jackpot.”
It wasn’t a lie.
Glory Day had been Jaehyun’s project before it was handed to Jungwoo, so Jinseok’s words weren’t exactly news.
“Really? I didn’t know that,” I said, playing dumb.
“If you want to be like Jungwoo, you should’ve gone to DreamEnt. Sure, that place is a cesspool, but when they decide to push someone, they make it happen like magic.”
He wasn’t wrong, but the thought of facing Hyungcheol and DreamEnt’s CEO at the same time made my stomach churn.
I wasn’t sure my patience could handle it.
“DreamEnt’s a gamble—either you shoot to the top, or you get tossed aside like garbage. Like me,” Jinseok added with a wry smile.
I blinked, startled.
He was with the same agency as the boss?
I’d visited the boss’s company a few times, but I had no memory of Jinseok.
“Of course you wouldn’t remember me,” he said, reading my expression.
“I was left to rot for years before the boss transferred my contract here.”
No wonder he knows so much about the boss and Jungwoo.
“Anyway, the boss is full of it, so get out while you still can. It’s not too late,” he urged.
“Get out? To where?”
“Why do you think we were called here today, you and me?”
His words carried a weight that suggested this meeting was no coincidence.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Jinseok chuckled, plopping down onto a nearby chair.
“Exactly. Get out while you’re still clueless. You can deal with the contract penalties later—work some construction gigs if you have to.”
There’s something I’m missing here.
I’d been waiting for a moment like this, and just when I thought Hyungcheol had been too quiet, this bombshell dropped.
“Can you explain a bit more?”
I pressed.
He sighed.
“The boss is probably going to introduce you to some ‘close friend’ of his.”
“A friend?”
“Obviously, it’s not going to be a good guy.”
“Why would he introduce me to someone like that?”
“Six,” Jinseok said suddenly.
“Six what?”
“I’ve met six kids like you in this company.”
I frowned.
I’d been told Jinseok and I were the only actors here.
“They’re all gone now. Every single one of them left.”
A company this new, and they’re all gone already?
I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
Jinseok burst into laughter, so loud it echoed through the office.
“What’s so funny?”
I asked, frustrated by his amusement at my confusion.
“Man, you’re hilarious. Instead of making that face, you should be running. Don’t you get it?”
Run?
Where would I go?
I never had a place to return to.
My only path was forward.
Where else could I get this close to seeing Hyungcheol’s true face?
Why would I throw away this chance?
“Still, the boss called me here, so I have to go,” I said firmly.
Jinseok shook his head.
“You’re out of your mind. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
His manager arrived shortly after, ushering us into a car.
“Where’s the boss?”
I asked.
“He’ll meet us there,” the manager replied.
“Probably off doing some pointless shit,” Jinseok muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The car crossed a bridge and pulled up in front of a hotel.
“Make sure you take care of the kid,” the manager said to Jinseok.
“He’ll figure it out himself,” Jinseok shot back, stepping out of the car.
I followed.
Whoa… is this what hotels are like?
Women in bold, glamorous outfits—straight out of a TV drama—were everywhere.
“Stop gawking,” Jinseok snapped.
“It’s my first time in a hotel,” I admitted.
“You’ve never been on a trip?”
“Nope.”
As if I’ve ever had the chance.
“Relax, we’re not staying here,” he said, gesturing to a separate entrance next to the hotel.
“Where’s this?”
“First time in a place like this? Yeah, you look the type.”
A burly man in a tight black shirt nodded at Jinseok, who strolled in like he owned the place.
“A3, two people,” he called out.
We descended into a basement, and as soon as we passed through a heavy door, I clamped my hands over my ears.
“Ugh!”
The space was dark, packed with people, the air thick and suffocating.
The music was so loud it felt like my eardrums might burst.
This place was, in a word, hell.
“What’s a kid like you doing in a place like this?”
Jinseok said, shaking his head at my grimace.
“Follow me,” said a man dressed like the one at the entrance, leading us deeper inside.
Is this a maze?
We wound through corridors lined with doors, the crowd thinning until it felt like we were alone.
The only signs of life were the occasional staff carrying trays.
“Is this a club?”
I asked.
“You’re just now figuring that out?”
Jinseok smirked.
“I’ve only seen places like this on TV,” I said, realization dawning.
I could already guess what came next—shady deals in private rooms, straight out of every drama and movie cliché.
“Don’t even think about recording anything,” Jinseok warned, eyeing my phone.
“It won’t do you any good.”
The staff member guiding us shot me a glance at the mention of recording.
“Don’t react if they try to provoke you. Just smile. Don’t let your pride get in the way,” Jinseok added as we stopped in front of a door.
“And… don’t trust the boss. He’s in on it with them.”
Before I could respond, the door swung open.
“Hey! The kids are here!”
Hyungcheol’s voice boomed from inside.
“Come on, hurry up!”
He waved us in, and the room opened into a surprisingly spacious area.
Three heavyset men lounged on a U-shaped sofa, their presence dominating the space.
What kind of meeting is this?
“Hey, our Yoo-actor! Long time no see,” the man in the middle called out to Jinseok.
“Hello,” Jinseok replied, bowing deeply at a perfect 90 degrees.
“And who’s this?” the man asked, eyeing me.
“Haha, this is the guy I told you about,” Hyungcheol said, stepping in.
I started to offer a casual greeting, but Hyungcheol pressed down on the back of my neck, forcing me to bow lower.
“Greet them properly, Hyunjae,” he said, his voice soft but laced with menace.
Who are these guys that he’s acting like this?
My curiosity about Hyungcheol’s connection to them deepened.
“He’s just a kid, don’t be too hard on him,” the heavyset man said with a fake smile, playing the good guy.
“He’s still green, got a lot to learn,” Hyungcheol added.
“No worries, we’ll teach him,” the man said, gesturing for us to sit.
As soon as I sat on the sofa, a glass of liquor was thrust in front of me.
“Man, you’re a good-looking kid,” said the man next to me, leaning in too close for comfort.
“Huh?”
“You’ve got it easy with a face like that.”
“Next to him, your face looks like a squid,” another man teased, sparking laughter.
What is this vibe?
It felt like a scene straight out of a low-budget gangster flick—crude language and empty bravado.
Why am I even here?
The cheap profanity and pointless posturing were starting to wear on me.
“So, you want to be an actor? You’ve got to know the right people to make it,” one of them said.
“Exactly,” Hyungcheol chimed in, nudging my side with his elbow.
“That’s why I brought him to meet you, sir.”
Is he telling me to pour drinks?
No way.
I could tell that’s what he wanted, but I wasn’t here to play servant.
“What do you do, sir?”
I asked, my tone deliberately innocent.
The room fell silent.
“Haha, sorry, this kid’s clueless,” Hyungcheol said, laughing awkwardly.
Did he expect me to call him ‘big brother’?
He’s old enough to be my dad twice over.
“No, no, I like that. He’s got some guts, unlike the others you’ve brought,” the man said, his tone dripping with sarcasm despite the smile.
“I should’ve briefed him better,” Hyungcheol said.
“Hyunjae, this gentleman is a businessman who invests in our company. He’s going to help you become a better actor.”
What does my acting have to do with this guy?
Does he think I’m an idiot?
Hyungcheol’s attempt to play me for a fool was almost laughable.
“You’ll only benefit from getting close to him, so don’t worry,” he added.
“Let’s cut the crap and get to it,” the heavyset man said, signaling to one of his lackeys.
The man tossed a stack of papers in front of me.
“What’s this?”
I asked.
“Read it,” he barked.
I unfolded the document.
At the top, in bold letters, was the word Contract.
“Party A shall manage Party B for protective purposes…”
“Why bother reading it? Just sign,” Hyungcheol said, shoving a pen into my hand.
So this is what Jinseok was warning me about.
“Boss, what is this?”
I asked, keeping my tone neutral.
“Kid, now’s not the time for questions, don’t you think?”
The men drinking around me started inching closer, their presence looming.
If I don’t sign, they’ll make me.
“Sorry, but I was taught not to sign things like this without reading them—ow!”
The man closest to me grabbed my hair, yanking it hard.
“Damn, this kid’s got a mouth on him,” he growled.
“Easy, easy,” the heavyset man said.
“He’s got potential, don’t you think, Jinseok?”
Jinseok just stared at me, his expression unreadable.
Was it pity?
Or was he saying, I told you so? I couldn’t tell.
“Don’t ruin the mood. Just sign—”
As the man forced the pen into my hand and guided it toward the signature line, a loud crash interrupted.
A figure in black collapsed onto the table in front of us.
“What the—?!”
Amid the startled shouts, a bright, cheerful voice cut through the chaos.
“Excuse me for a moment~”