Chapter 11: The Contract

JJ Entertainment’s former CEO, Lee Jaejun, was more thorough than anyone when it came to contracts.

He especially scrutinized the terms closely.

If someone handed him a contract he didn’t like, he would respond firmly and decisively.

Top-tier actor Lee Jaejun was concerned that the contracts he signed might one day set a bad precedent for his juniors, becoming the industry standard.

The industry was already notoriously harsh on rookie actors.

They often disguised unpaid labor under the guise of “gaining experience.”

***

“Nothing happened?”

“There’s nothing happening right now.”

“Nothing happened?”

“No, nothing!”

“Oh wait, maybe something did?”

“No, really. Nothing.”

From sports cars to chauffeured luxury sedans—those were all a thing of the past now.

[Not just the cars, even the manager and agency are gone.]

‘Shh. Be quiet.’

“Next week’s shoot is all out of town with lots of travel. What’s your plan?”

“That’s why we need to come to an agreement. I need to know if I can buy a car. Hopefully, we’ll reach a good agreement.”

“If the terms don’t work, I’ll just look for another project. There are plenty of auditions.”

Cold sweat trickled down PD Choi’s back.

Taehun was smiling as he spoke, but the director could instinctively tell he wasn’t going to let things slide easily.

It might’ve sounded like a joke on the surface, but it was at least 90% serious.

PD Choi quickly corrected himself.

“I’ll talk it over with Writer Go Eunjeong and the CP.”

“Sure.”

‘Just like Director Choi said, with all the out-of-town shoots coming up, traveling will definitely be a hassle. The real issue is the manager.’

If he were just a background extra, it wouldn’t matter.

But now that he’d landed the role of the second male lead, his importance had increased.

Just then, a familiar voice called out from nearby.

“Ah, Director Choi! Our dear Director Choi!”

Someone was calling out to him, their voice full of excitement, clearly a close friend.

“Oh hey, our tiger is descending. Soobeom! Or should I say, CEO Oh Soobeom now?”

“If it weren’t for the wreath you sent to our office, I would’ve looked so lame. Thanks to you, I at least looked legit at the launch.”

“You think starting an agency is easy?”

Looking at Oh Soobeom cracking jokes, Ki Taehun was visibly startled.

‘Why is Soobeom hyung here?’

Like Jung Sungha, Oh Soobeom had been close with Lee Jaejun in their 20s.

He went from road manager to team leader, directly overseeing Jaejun and becoming one of JJ Entertainment’s founding members and key builders.

He used to joke that he’d bury his bones at JJ—’was he really out?’

‘That doesn’t sound like him…’

He was more dedicated to that company than anyone.

Before Taehun could dwell on it, PD Choi introduced them.

“Oh, this is the heart and soul of our current project, the first mate of this ship—actor Ki Taehun!”

Taehun bowed politely.

“This here is someone who voluntarily gave up a golden bowl. Former JJ executive and now the proud founder of Beom Actors, CEO Oh Soobeom. Just letting you know—no matter how much you impress him, you won’t be getting into JJ.”

Maybe there was some bad blood between him and JJ.

“I’m not thrilled with that introduction, but… anyway. Nice to meet you. I’m Oh Soobeom, CEO of Beom Actors. Though… I don’t have any signed actors yet.”

Oh Soobeom gave a proper bow.

Despite Taehun being much younger, Soobeom was respectful.

Taehun thought, ‘He’s still the same.’

‘Hope he had a decent meal at my funeral.’

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ki Taehun.”

“Did your shoot go well today?”

“I didn’t have any scenes today.”

“Then why are you—”

“Don’t even ask. Our actor Ki here has been running around, lighting up the set and lifting everyone’s spirits!”

While Director Choi grinned in satisfaction, Taehun turned to Oh Soobeom.

“You said you don’t have any actors under your agency yet, right?”

“Uh… that’s right?”

“I don’t have an agency either.”

Oh Soobeom stared blankly at PD Choi and Taehun, stunned.

This was the first time he’d ever met someone like this.

‘Still as sharp as ever, this guy.’

“CEO Oh Soobeom, if you’re done talking with the director, shall we talk about signing a contract?”

“Wh-what?”

“I want to sign with Beom Actors.”

The word “contract” made Oh Soobeom jump.

In truth, the only reason he was even there was because his high school buddy, Director Choi, had called him in a rush.

‘I’ve got this crazy kid. His acting is insane, but no one’s discovered him yet.’

‘An idol-turned-actor?’ Oh Soobeom had thought Choi was being dramatic after 20 years in the industry.

‘But maybe it was true what they say—talent shows itself from the start.’

After hearing Choi’s passionate pitch, Soobeom couldn’t sleep.

He was going crazy with curiosity.

What kind of actor could possibly deserve such praise?

When he heard Taehun was at the filming site, he rushed over.

‘This guy isn’t just a crouching dragon like Zhuge Liang—he’s a hidden dragon. If you sign him, you’ve got the whole damn world. You should be thanking me.’

Seeing Taehun in person, he knew.

This wasn’t exaggeration.

It was real.

Oh Soobeom instinctively touched the bag he brought with him. Inside was a sample contract—just in case.

Even while preparing it, he’d thought he was crazy.

Like Lee Jaejun, Soobeom had never been a fan of idol-turned-actors.

If Jaejun were still alive, he probably wouldn’t understand why Soobeom was even considering this.

But…

‘How could I let go of someone who has your eyes?’

‘Even if he’s an idol, if Jaejun had seen that look in his eyes, he would’ve signed him on the spot.’

“I actually brought a sample contract with me… Would you like to take a look?”

He paused briefly before pulling it out.

“Since we’re a brand-new agency… we’ll try our best to meet your conditions.”

“I’ll sign it.”

“Wait, what? You haven’t even read it yet—”

Taehun already knew.

Oh Soobeom wasn’t the kind of person to play games with a contract.

He always put his actors first.

For instance, when one of his actors had been devastated by malicious comments, Oh Soobeom didn’t leave them to suffer.

He insisted they see a psychiatrist and made sure they had a designated specialist.

Even when JJ Entertainment CEO Jung Sungha strongly objected due to the costs involved, Soobeom didn’t back down.

He had gone so far as to gather signatures from actors to make it happen, and in the end, Jung Sungha had no choice but to withdraw his opposition.

Well, ever since then, he must’ve been on Jung Sungha’s blacklist.

“You… you’re seriously going to sign the contract?”

Oh Soobeom couldn’t believe it.

Beom Actors was a company he built using the hefty severance pay and stock options he received when he left JJ Entertainment.

But for some reason, after leaving JJ, he struggled to gain any traction.

All the top actors were still with JJ, and no one wanted to support Soobeom, who had parted ways with Jung Sungha.

It looked like the company wouldn’t last much longer.

That’s when he heard about a talented actor with no agency backing.

‘But don’t get your hopes up. After the last script reading, other actors recommended him to their agencies. I heard he’s already received offers from some decent ones.’

Yet… this actor was urging him to sign a contract!

“Do you have the actual contract, not just a sample?”

“Uh, well… J-just a second!”

Oh Soobeom quickly pulled out a contract with Ki Taehun’s name on it.

Taehun snatched it from his hands and began filling in his personal information.

‘…Even his decisiveness reminds me of Jaejun.’

Soobeom shook off the sudden wave of melancholy and watched Taehun carefully.

It was a touching moment—’wait, what?’

Without a hint of hesitation, Taehun pulled a stamp pad out of his pocket.

And instead of pressing his thumb into it—

‘Wait, he’s not using a seal? He’s going for a fingerprint? And… why does he even carry ink around with him?’

“You’re going with a fingerprint stamp?”

“Yes. I have my reasons.”

The grand tone made Oh Soobeom nod in agreement, but the truth was that Taehun—well, Jaejun—had no idea where his personal seal even was.

‘I’ll have to get a proper stamp made under the name Ki Taehun soon. Whether it’s CF deals or magazine shoots, I’ll make sure that ink never dries, bro.’

***

“Oh, what the—! I just stepped out for a minute, and you’re already signed with Beom Actors? Wow~ Actor Ki, you move fast!”

PD Choi clapped his hands in excitement.

“Actor? No, wait, I guess I should be saying this to CEO Oh Soobeom now? Actually, there’s something I didn’t finish discussing with Actor Ki earlier. Since we’re here, maybe we can revisit the contract terms?”

Soobeom’s expression hardened instantly.

As if he’d forgotten about school ties and personal connections.

“Please don’t do this, Director Choi. Our company will get back to you formally and in writing.”

“Tch. Figures. Like actor, like agent. CEO Oh, huh? So much for friendship.”

Choi PD sniffed in disappointment.

Taehun, on the other hand, was pleased.

He liked Oh Soobeom’s professional approach.

‘Of course. This is exactly the kind of person Lee Jaejun used to be.’

***

Lee Chaehyuk, who had been cast as the male lead in Butter Campus, hadn’t been able to sleep lately.

It wasn’t due to bizarre nightmares or anything.

There was only one thing tormenting him: the lingering presence of Ki Taehun from the script reading.

‘Was it because his impact was just that strong?’

Even after popping two sleeping pills, Taehun’s presence wouldn’t leave his mind.

That day had been pure horror for Chaehyuk.

At first, he had thought, ‘He’s pretty good for someone so young.’

But by the end of the reading, he realized there was a gap between them so massive, it was laughable to compare.

This wasn’t a difference between a main lead and a supporting actor.

Chaehyuk was considered one of the top five male actors in their twenties.

So he could judge Ki Taehun’s skill pretty well—

And it was clear: there was no way he could catch up.

‘I don’t even have the guts to try.’

It was just a script reading last time.

Once filming started, the comparison would become even more obvious on set.

He might not even be able to keep a straight face because of the constant self-comparison.

The anxiety was eating him alive.

“What do I do? We’ll be acting together soon. I don’t think I can handle it.”

From the moment he accidentally stumbled into acting during his modeling days, Chaehyuk had constantly been told he had talent.

That’s why he had the ambition to one day stand shoulder to shoulder with legends like Lee Jaejun and Jung Sungha.

Up until now, nothing had truly blocked his path.

He’d been coasting toward stardom, dreaming of becoming an actor of Jaejun’s caliber.

But now, he’d hit an enormous reef, and his ship was being torn apart.

At this rate, he wouldn’t even be able to reach the shadows of those great actors—

And before that, he’d be crushed in a head-on collision with Ki Taehun.

“They’re going to find out. I should drop out now. I’m not good enough. I’m going to get absolutely destroyed, what do I do…”

He could already see the kinds of comments that would show up on viewer forums:

[Huh? Was Chaehyuk always this bad at acting? Guess it was just the character doing all the work, lol.]

[Maybe it’s just that Ki Taehun is really good? Haven’t felt this immersed in a while~^^]

[The comparison was brutal. Chaehyuk, go practice your lines. How are you losing to a failed idol?]

[People keep praising him, so he stopped improving. Just quit already.]

“Ugh… I’m doomed.”

Just as Chaehyuk was drowning in despair—

Ding-dong

A message popped up on his phone screen.

[Chaehyuk sunbae nim. This is Ki Taehun. Do you have a moment?]

‘Why is Ki Taehun messaging me…?’

He was more afraid than curious about how Taehun had gotten his number.

He was too scared to reply.

But ignoring him completely? That was even scarier.

Ding-dong

[You must be feeling scared and overwhelmed right now. I’m excited to act alongside you.]

‘He’s a demon. He’s definitely a demon.’

[Why aren’t you replying? Don’t be like that. Let’s meet up. I may not look it, but I’m a resurrected angel.]

‘He’s reading my mind. There’s a wiretap in my room, isn’t there…?!’

Chaehyuk searched under the sofa, between the bookshelves, and around the bedroom.

Only after confirming there was nothing did he start to calm down.

Ding-dong

[Since you’re not replying, I can’t tell what you’re thinking.]

“……!”

Chaehyuk dropped his phone.

A cold chill ran down his back.

He’s not just a demon.

He’s the demon.

As he stared at the fallen phone with wary eyes—another message arrived.

[I’ll send my address.]

‘…I guess I have no choice but to go.’