On the left was my usual expressionless face and on the right, a photo of me crying during the stage greeting.
The posts below weren’t much different.
-Crispy on the outside, soft on the inside—there’s no dumpling like this one.
-Jae-ha’s lips are usually straight and firm, but whenever he tries to hold back tears, they curve like a Squirtle’s. So cute.
-He looks like a wolf, but inside he’s just a soft, damp little puppy…
“Ahem…”
This was really embarrassing and awkward…
Back in my idol days, for the first year my phone was confiscated and I didn’t even know how to search things, so I could barely monitor the fans.
In the second year, I unconsciously avoided fan monitoring, and after that incident, I just stopped altogether.
‘But thanks to Seo Eun-jae, I learned all sorts of things.’
Jealousy and inferiority—that’s what drove me at first, but still.
“Mmhm.”
Awkward as it was, I couldn’t hate words built on affection.
If anything, I was grateful.
‘Thank you so much.’
I muttered words I could only say inwardly for now.
Without an agency, I had no proper way to communicate with fans.
‘An agency. That’s still the biggest problem.’
No matter how hard I tried to forget, all my thoughts circled back to my lack of an agency.
‘Even if I sign now, it won’t really be a problem.’
Even as an independent contestant, I could sign with an agency while the show was ongoing.
But after the group training ended and I got my phone back, there were still no new messages.
The staff I’d passed in the hallway while leaving the building had only glanced at me and moved on.
Honestly, I wasn’t expecting any offers.
Based on what I’d experienced before I died, the only agencies that might contact me were Blue Night and the one I’d signed with before my death, Yudam Entertainment.
But my connection to Blue Night was all but over.
‘They’ll never reach out first.’
That much was clear from the manager’s attitude.
Besides, Blue Night had Kwon Ha-bin.
‘If things go as they did before I died, Kwon Ha-bin will end up in second place.’
So now, all that was left was Yudam Entertainment.
‘Jae-ha, I hope you can give us an answer by tomorrow. We can’t wait much longer. This is your life, so think it over carefully to the very end, okay?’
I could still hear the Representative’s teasing voice, just as it was back then.
I once thought of him as the one who saved me, a grateful person who pulled me out of my two-year shut-in days.
‘Then whose idea was it to start the fake school violence scandal?’
Until then, I’d thought Yudam started the rumor to keep me from signing with another company.
But considering how YM had always interfered with my contracts and activities, the story changed a bit.
‘If YM ordered Yudam to do it, then what’s the relationship between YM and Yudam? Why would YM go so far to keep me tied to Yudam?’
Yudam was different from Blue Night and my previous agencies.
They brought me scripts of a completely different caliber and gave me far more audition information.
Of course, since I was already experienced as an actor, they didn’t offer acting lessons, saying it was more important for me to find my own methods.
Still, it was true that they gave me more options than before.
‘That’s how I got to film (The Bachelors Club), too.’
After I gained some popularity from (The Bachelors Club) , Yudam pushed me very aggressively.
They often complained that my inability to do offline activities was a problem, but even that felt like they cared about me.
After a moment’s hesitation, I searched for Yudam Entertainment on a portal site.
“?”
There were no search results.
Has it not been founded yet?
But when I joined, Yudam didn’t feel like a new company at all.
The office was big and fancy, and they had some pretty famous actors.
‘Usually, in that case, the Representative is either a former manager or just has a lot of money.’
But the Representative wasn’t a former manager.
From what I’d heard, he’d even studied abroad.
“Ah…”
I felt like I was on the verge of remembering something about the Representative, but nothing clear came to mind.
There was just one vivid impression.
‘He was still young for a Representative.’
I slowly closed and opened my eyes, then put down my phone.
‘I still don’t know.’
I couldn’t get a feel for it.
How could YM get involved in other agencies’ recruitment?
Did they really purposely leave me without a contract so I’d end up with a company under their thumb?
‘But Blue Night’s Representative, and the ones before, never had deep connections with YM’s chairman or executives.’
That much I was sure of.
On days when my suspicions ran high, I’d searched everything I could.
Even Yudam’s Representative didn’t seem to have any big ties to YM according to search results.
‘This is driving me crazy.’
The whole thing was unclear, both the process and the conclusion.
The sooner I solved the agency problem, the better, but it was just frustrating.
‘For now, I’ll just have to wait a bit longer.’
Filming-wise, the first ranking announcement was over, and only episode two had aired.
‘An offer will come from somewhere.’
For now, believing that seemed best for my peace of mind.
That afternoon, I received an unexpected call.
***
As I got out of the taxi, a sleek white building came into view. It looked about five stories tall, and on the upper right was the name Saebit, written in neat black font.
‘Saebit Entertainment.’
Just repeating the name made me swallow nervously without realizing.
Yesterday afternoon, while doing overdue housework to clear my head, my phone started vibrating.
The vibration lasted so long I figured it was a call and rushed to the sink to grab it.
The name that appeared on the screen was someone I never expected.
[Miyoun Jung]
I must have been about twelve.
I played her son in a drama she starred in.
A former Miss Korea, once a fashion icon of Korea.
In an era that prized innocent beauties, she changed the trend overnight with her sophisticated and glamorous looks.
In her thirties, she became a great Actor, known for her deep and weighty performances.
[Hey, you only call me on holidays or my birthday, don’t you?]
Still in a daze, I answered, and her sharp, familiar voice came through.
At that moment, a memory I’d long forgotten surfaced.
The same thing had happened before I died.
Out of the blue, she’d called and asked if I wanted to join a new agency her longtime manager was starting, specializing in Actors.
But back then, I’d already renewed my contract with Blue Night, so I had to refuse.
‘And after I failed to renew with Blue Night again, I never even thought about this.’
After that, when I desperately knocked on agency doors, Saebit Entertainment wasn’t one of them.
By then, I’d completely forgotten about it and couldn’t even dream of approaching Saebit, which had become a prime agency.
‘It’s more like I forgot because I wanted to forget.’
Back then, when she first offered, the feeling I had was fear.
At twelve, reading scripts and earning her praise, the young Kim Jae-ha and the adult me were entirely different people.
I was afraid she’d be disappointed if she saw who I’d become.
‘But in the end, I’m coming here.’
Will this be okay?
Is this another trap set up by YM?
Or maybe the Representative will reject me after all?
Only bad outcomes filled my head.
‘Deep breaths, deep breaths.’
For a moment, I thought about taking some calming medicine, but managed to resist.
I might have to act, even briefly.
If so, I wanted to show them my true self as I am now.
I’d already confirmed I’d only be meeting with the teacher and the Representative today.
Forcing myself to calm down, I stepped into the building.
***
Inside Saebit Entertainment, Representative Dongshik Jeon was not in a good mood.
But in front of the respected Miyoun Jung he couldn’t show it openly.
So, arms crossed, he just kept clearing his throat for no reason.
“Ahem!”
After who-knows-how-many times, Miyoun Jung’s gaze flicked to Dongshik Jeon.
Her clear, wide eyes narrowed slightly.
“Dongshik.”
“Y-yes, ma’am!”
Miyoun Jung shook her head and spoke again.
“Representative Jeon.”
“Ahem, yes, Miyoun Jung.”
“I remember you already agreed to recruit Kim Jae-ha. Have you changed your mind?”
“Th-that…!”
Dongshik Jeon opened and closed his mouth a few times, then ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“I know, I know. He’s a really good kid. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve signed him right away! It’s not just me, you know? Other agencies would be drooling over him too. But!”
“But?”
Miyoun Jung’s calm question was met with a heavy sigh from Dongshik Jeon.
“You know why I’m hesitating…”
Miyoun Jung was just as troubled.
Though Dongshik Jeon held the title of Representative, from planning to investment, Miyoun Jung had been deeply involved in founding the company.
They’d agreed from the start that she’d focus on acting and talent scouting rather than management.
With her long career, she had a strong network.
Most of the actors she’d marked had already joined the agency.
Only Kim Jae-ha remained.
‘Teacher! I don’t understand this part!’
***
There was a time when a woman over thirty was called an old maid.
Once, she’d set fashion trends across Korea, but time spares no one.
After thirty, all her roles were mothers.
Though still single in real life, she’d played the mother of countless children onscreen.
She’d met many child actors, but the one who stood out most was Kim Jae-ha.
Even when told he could just call her ‘aunt’ he stubbornly called her ‘teacher’ after each shoot.
He was adorable as a kid, and as he grew, he was already handsome even at a young age.
Among his peers, his memorization was good and his understanding of the script wasn’t bad.
His pronunciation was especially clear, and he could handle long lines without stumbling.
She’d wondered if his parents trained him, but after meeting his mother on set, she realized it ran in the family—the mother’s diction was just as precise.
She’d thought he’d become a famous actor one day.
When he suddenly decided to become an idol singer, she’d felt it was a shame, but an Actor doesn’t always stay an Actor, and a singer doesn’t always remain a singer.
She wanted to keep watching over him.