Chapter 8
Through the sizzling grill, Director Kwak Dong-chul waved Sarah over and patted the seat next to him.
Wiping the fatigue off her face and putting on a bright smile, Sarah sat down beside him.
Across the table sat Seyun and Mugyeom.
“Wow. Your acting today was amazing, Sarah. As expected from an actress chosen by Attré! Watching the monitor, I literally got goosebumps.”
“Oh, it was nothing. Seyun was way better than me.”
“Pfft—cough! Ah, sorry.”
Everyone’s gaze naturally turned to Mugyeom. He had clearly choked while laughing.
The director glanced at Seyun, then replied indifferently.
“Yeah, yeah. Seyun’s good too. But Sarah, what’s your next project? Have you scheduled anything yet?”
“No, not yet. I was planning to take it slow and think about it while resting.”
“Rest? Don’t be naive. You’ve got to row while the tide is high.”
Two grill changes and three bottles of soju later, the director’s attention was still entirely on Sarah.
He kept asking about her next work, suggesting they should collaborate with her as the lead, and making blatant advances—ignoring the fact that the current drama’s lead actress, Seyun, was sitting right across from him.
Seyun bit her lip, glaring at Sarah, then suddenly shot up from her seat.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Oh, sure, sure.”
Already drunk, the director waved her off carelessly.
Watching Seyun’s back retreat, he muttered irritably,
“Does she think she’s cast because I wanted her…?”
“Sorry?”
“I mean Kim Seyun.”
Director Kwak raised his shaky hand, downing another shot of soju.
“Sarah, you probably know, right? Why I gave the lead role to Kim Seyun?”
“Uh… yes, sort of.”
“This industry’s like that. It’s not all about talent. I had pressure from above, so I couldn’t help it. You understand, right? Our dear actress Seo?”
“Director, I think you’ve had a bit too much.”
When Director Kwak suddenly spread his arms wide, trying to pull Sarah into an embrace, Mugyeom quickly stepped in between them.
By the time they had endured enough of his drunken rambling, it was already past midnight.
“But Sarah, you’ve got connections up top too, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Originally, they flat out refused to cast you. Then suddenly they changed their minds—said to just give you the role.”
“Suddenly?”
Sarah couldn’t understand what he meant. She thought she had gotten the role of Chae Min-seo by persuading writer Sung Ji-hee.
“Yeah. Our exec got a couple of phone calls, then said, ‘Just give the part to Sarah.’”
“I see…”
“Who was it? Who’s powerful enough to make our exec back down? Come on, tell me, just between us.”
“Well… I really don’t know.”
Sarah laughed awkwardly, brushing it off. But a name immediately came to mind.
Yoon Seung-tae.
If anyone knew and had the power to change everything, it was him.
She instinctively glanced at her phone, recalling their conversation.
[Should I return it to you?]
His voice had been as sweet as sugar, but now it only made her uneasy—because she realized everything was in the palm of that man’s hand.
“Let me gooo! I can still drink—hic!”
Not long after, the director collapsed on the table. Someone dragged him out, and at last, Sarah and Mugyeom escaped what had been a torture session disguised as a dinner.
“Where’s Jooyoung?”
“He said he’s bringing the car. What about your manager?”
“I told him to go ahead. He wasn’t feeling well.”
“Let’s go together. I’ll drop you off on the way.”
“Thanks, that helps.”
Before long, a familiar black van pulled up. Sarah and Mugyeom climbed in.
Through the rearview mirror, Jooyoung spotted Mugyeom and greeted him.
“Oh, hyung. Hello.”
“Jooyoung, working late again.”
“Jooyoung, Mugyeom’s manager already left. Can you drop him at his place on the way?”
“Of course. Hyung, you live in Yeouido, right? Just tell me the address.”
“Thanks, Jooyoung. You must be tired too.”
“It’s on the way, don’t worry.”
He grinned and pressed the accelerator. The van cut through the cool dawn air of Seoul.
“So, what was that ‘connection’ thing Director Kwak mentioned earlier?”
“Connection? Oh.”
Because of Mugyeom, she had almost forgotten about Yoon Seung-tae. Sarah frowned, leaning back.
“It’s nothing. Just something weird… forget it.”
“Why stop mid-sentence? What is it?”
Pressed by Mugyeom’s persistence, Sarah reluctantly gave him a brief summary.
“You mean Yoon Seung-tae from Altech?”
“You know him?”
“I’ve seen him a few times at parties with my ex. But I’m surprised. He’s known for having a squeaky-clean personal life, no interest in this industry at all.”
“Clean? Please. Who knows what he does behind the scenes?”
“No, seriously. This business is small—if he’d dated a celebrity, rumors would’ve spread instantly. But there’s never been a single one.”
“Then what’s he doing hitting on me?”
“Well… maybe he’s just interested in you.”
“Interested? You think that’s interest? Come on. He probably just wants to brag about having a TV star on his arm. You think this is the first time I’ve seen this?”
“Hmm.”
He looked like he wanted to argue but gave up and changed the subject.
“So he’s the one who got you into this drama?”
“Ugh, hearing it put like that pisses me off. Do you know how hard I wagged my tail in front of Writer Sung and Director Kwak?”
“Still, you should at least act grateful. If you cross him, you could lose all your endorsements and get blacklisted. Don’t you remember Kang Mina? Vissen’s youngest daughter offended the wrong person and got booted from the industry overnight.”
“Of course I know.”
In this ruthless field, the word “irreplaceable” means nothing. No one is an exception.
Once you’re forced out, that’s the end. No director will go out of their way to use a has-been.
Sarah scowled at her phone. Mugyeom added,
“Send a message, at least. A quick ‘thanks, let me buy you dinner sometime.’ That should do it.”
“Ha.”
“Think of it as business. Business.”
By then, the van had entered Mugyeom’s apartment’s underground garage.
“Thanks, Jooyoung. I’ll treat you next time.”
“No worries. Get home safe.”
“Go on in, oppa.”
“Yeah. Do you have filming tomorrow?”
“Mm-hm. In the morning.”
“I don’t, but I’m sure I’ll see you again. And don’t forget to reach out, okay?”
Mugyeom disappeared, leaving her with his nagging words.
Even after she got home, washed up, and lay in bed, his words echoed in her head. She kept turning her phone on and off.
“Ugh, so annoying.”
By the time her frustration dragged on, it was already past 4 a.m.
But ignoring it didn’t feel right. In this business, there’s no such thing as a free favor.
Finally, Sarah picked up her phone, opened the message window, and typed each word deliberately:
[Thanks for the drama role. Let me buy you dinner sometime.]
She scheduled the message to send later, then tossed the phone aside and curled up in bed.
“Yaaawn.”
“Careful, your jaw will pop. Did you stay up late?”
“You know I went to that dinner yesterday. I was stuck entertaining Director Kwak’s drunken rambling until late.”
“Ugh. You’re hopeless. You should’ve slipped out earlier. I heard Kim Seyun was home before eleven.”
Mirae grumbled while preparing Sarah’s breakfast.
‘No wonder she never came back from the bathroom. She just ran away.’
Half-asleep, Sarah shoved salad and cherry tomatoes into her mouth.
“After filming today, I’m going to vocal training.”
“Okay.”
“But do you really have to sing yourself? You’re not even the lead, just a supporting role.”
Her character, Chae Min-seo, was supposed to be an excellent singer. Originally a musical actress was slated to play the part, but Sarah had barely convinced Writer Sung to give it to her by claiming she could sing too.
Well, technically it was Yoon Seung-tae who had handed her the role. Remembering that made her blood boil again.
“So why did you insist on playing Chae Min-seo? You could’ve asked for a bigger supporting role. This one takes tons of prep, but the screen time’s small.”
“Because the only one who can crush Oh Bit-na is Chae Min-seo.”
