“I never tried to hold on.”
It was unexpected.
He thought he would come at him with sharp words, but instead, Yoon Jooho cupped his whiskey glass in both hands as if it were a warm tea and muttered.
“Right, right. It wasn’t really holding on.
It was all so sudden that you just had a hard time accepting it.
I misspoke, man.”
“You said there was nothing between us.
Only someone worth holding on to gets held onto, right?”
“……”
“For someone who means nothing, the end is just the end.”
Yoon Jooho placed the glass on the coffee table and got up from the sofa.
With his hands stuffed into his robe pockets, he slowly shuffled in his slippers toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.
From there, he had a clear view of the Han River, Yeongdong Bridge, and the neighborhoods of Seongsudong and Jayangdong.
Not that Jooho had much time to leisurely enjoy the view.
On the cabinet by the window sat several scented candles.
Jooho kept candles all over the house so he could light them anytime to shift his mood.
Inside a large cabinet in the hobby room, candles were neatly organized by brand and scent profile— enough to rival a store display.
Each candle was covered with a bell-shaped transparent lid.
By lifting the handle on top and bringing the inside of the cover to his nose and mouth, he could inhale the candle’s concentrated fragrance.
Even though he was already familiar with the scents, he still made sure to smell them again— carefully choosing one that matched his emotional state, as if it might determine his future.
“Jooho.”
“That voice sounds ominous.”
Director Bang’s voice came from behind him, but Jooho didn’t bother to turn around.
After choosing a candle, he opened the rightmost drawer.
Inside were various tools related to candles— several types of matches, a wick trimmer, a snuffer used to extinguish flames, and so on.
“You’re really not going to settle?”
“Nope.”
Jooho replied indifferently as he trimmed the candlewick short with the wick trimmer.
“No? What are you, a kid?”
“Earlier you said I was a kid for falling asleep with the TV on.”
He struck a long match against the phosphorus strip on a red-tipped matchbox and tilted the large candle to light the wick.
“I’m not asking you to forgive them.
It’s just about protecting your image on the way out.”
“……”
“The public sentiment is bad right now.
No matter what, this country is still rooted in Confucian values.
A lawsuit against your parents?
People are calling you a disgrace.
You haven’t read the articles, have you?”
A heavy, intense scent that could dull the senses began to spread throughout the room.
Jooho stood silently, gazing out the window with his hands still in his robe pockets.
“Jooho, a top star like you should be living in a place like this.
The house you live in, the car you drive, the clothes you wear— they’re all part of the image of actor Yoon Jooho.”
A duplex with five bedrooms.
Two hobby rooms with unclear purposes.
He had moved into this newly built luxury apartment by the Han River— known for its high price— at his parents’ insistence.
The image of actor Yoon Jooho.
Not the son of his father and mother, just actor Yoon Jooho.
Jooho muttered as if he didn’t care.
“It’s not a lawsuit.
It’s a certified letter.”
“The public doesn’t care about the difference.
You know that.”
“It’s not like I’ve gotten here hearing only nice things.”
“You’ve never had any serious scandals.
Just plastic surgery rumors, dating rumors— oh, and the death hoax.
But those were all just gossip and never turned out to be true.
This is different.”
“Not everyone’s going to like me.
You’re the one who told me not to worry about hate comments.”
“That wasn’t meant for a situation like this, Jooho.”
“Hyung.”
“…Yeah?”
“When I said I wanted to break free from Mom and Dad, what did you say?”
Suddenly turning around, Jooho walked back toward the sofa and spoke.
“You told me to stop being a star and start being an actor.”
“……”
“You said to take only the roles I wanted and act in the projects I cared about.”
“I did. I’m not telling you to stop doing that, Jooho.”
Jooho plopped down on the couch across from Director Bang.
“If I stop now, nothing’s going to change.”
“Come on, CEOs. They said they want to resolve this amicably. What’s wrong with at least hearing out the settlement terms? You don’t even want that?”
Over the past few months, Yoon Jooho had sent several certified letters to his parents, who were co-CEOs of Look Planning. In those letters, he demanded two things:
· That they step down from their positions as CEOs of Look Planning.
· That they never again involve themselves in either Look Planning or Yoon Jooho’s acting career in any way.
The letters were essentially a demand for the dissolution of their business partnership.
While Jooho was only an honorary director on paper, Look Planning was established with almost 100% of his personal funds.
In other words, he was the de facto owner of the company.
But his parents had ignored every single letter for months.
In the most recent one, sent just a few days ago, Jooho made it clear that this would be the final warning through certified mail.
If they failed to respond this time as well, he would not hesitate to pursue civil and criminal legal action.
Their response? An interview with the media.
To the public, it might look like a petty family feud over money— but this wasn’t about greed.
Jooho didn’t care much for money beyond what he already had.
“If they really wanted to resolve things peacefully, they should’ve contacted me directly.”
“……”
“Instead of releasing a story to the press, crying crocodile tears and pretending to be saintly parents standing by their ‘unfilial’ son.”
Jooho reached out for the glass of liquor on the coffee table.
“Do you actually believe that show?”
“……”
“After everything they’ve done to you?”
“This isn’t about believing or not believing. I’m talking about your image.”
“They’ve embezzled at least 20 billion won from the company funds, and they still owe me 15 billion in unpaid revenues under the pretense of business expenses. And yeah, like you said, they’re my parents. That’s why I turned a blind eye until now.”
“I know. Of course I do.”
“I never even asked them to pay it all back, did I?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“All I asked for was my company and my freedom. What else is there to negotiate?”
Director Bang stared into Jooho’s eyes.
No matter how strong, tough, or indifferent he tried to act, Jooho’s eyes were full of scratches— wounds too raw to ignore.
Bang found himself hesitating to even sigh.
Then, as if resolving something inside himself, he spoke firmly.
“Fine. No settlement. Let’s not settle.”
“……”
“Look Planning— no matter what anyone says, that’s Yoon Jooho’s company.”
Jooho let out a bitter laugh, swirled his glass, and took a large sip of whiskey.
The ice had melted, diluting the flavor quite a bit.
Leaning forward, he shifted into a more active posture.
“So, bro, imagine this. You’re witnessing a murder.”
Director Bang’s face twisted in shock, but Jooho ignored it.
“And the murderer is someone you’ve looked up to since you were a kid… someone you admired like a first love.”
“To San, Baek Kang is like a brother, a friend, a hero… honestly, almost like his first love.”
Jooho recalled what Song Hyunsoo had said.
For Lee San, Baek Kang wasn’t just a brother or friend or hero— he was something even more, almost a first love.
“Let’s get back to rehearsing the script.”
“We’re really doing this again?”
“Of course we are.”
Rolling up the sleeve of his gown to check the time, Jooho grabbed the script.
“Your English lesson starts at 4. We don’t have time. Are you going to work or not?”
“Why is this my job? I’m your manager, not an actor.”
Director Bang’s protest was completely ignored.
“And imagine— the murder victim is your father. Someone you hated and resented, sure, but he was still your dad. Your feelings would be all over the place. It’s not simple anger, not simple relief either…”
“Stop! I can’t do this!”
“What if you don’t?”
“I don’t care. Hire someone else.”
Throwing the script aside, Director Bang grabbed his whiskey and leaned all the way back into the sofa.
A clear sign of resistance.
Jooho frowned.
“How can we leak the script to an outsider?”
“Then ask one of the interns to help. I don’t have time for this.”
“What do the interns know about acting?”
“And what do I know about acting? I’m done. Not doing it anymore.”
“That’s some serious dereliction… of… duty…”
Jooho trailed off mid-sentence, furrowing his brow and narrowing his eyes.
Director Bang suddenly felt a wave of dread.
“Jooho, you’re thinking something weird again, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean, weird?”
“Every time you go silent like that mid-sentence, it’s nine out of ten times you’re cooking up some crazy idea.”
Jooho stroked his smooth jawline and licked his lips.
The sweetness of the whiskey lingered on his tongue.
“I’m thinking about hiring a temp.”
“A temp for what?”
“You said I should. I think I found a pretty decent candidate.”