“Everyone, stop.”
In the middle of rehearsal, the troupe leader, Lee Changhun, raised his hand. His gaze was fixed on a single person. It was Ji Dongyeon. Even as he delivered his lines on stage, he couldn’t seem to shake off a sense of discomfort, his eyes darting anxiously.
How many times has it been already?
The other actors’ faces were full of discontent. For some reason, Ji Dongyeon had already made so many mistakes in the rehearsal that started this morning, it was impossible to count them all on one hand. Even Yeon Su, who was called a rookie in the theater world, hadn’t been this bad. Let alone Ji Dongyeon, who was supposed to be a seasoned actor in the theater scene.
I thought he’d gotten his groove back.
Yeongguk ran his tongue over his dry lips. Just a fortnight ago, Ji Dongyeon’s acting had been quite impressive. It was enough to say he’d regained the form of his prime. But for some reason, his acting had suddenly regressed.
The biggest reason seemed to be his lack of focus. Even now, troupe leader Lee Changhun was calling Ji Dongyeon aside to say something, but Ji Dongyeon didn’t look like he was being scolded. He looked as if he’d transcended everything.
Come to think of it.
Yeongguk recalled memories from his past life. There were countless actors in Korea. Some shot to stardom like a comet and faded just as quickly, while others enjoyed long, decades-spanning careers. Ji Dongyeon was neither.
He had certainly made a name for himself as a theater actor and often appeared in dramas, so the public knew him well. But a few years ago, he had suddenly disappeared from the drama scene, only to reappear in the theater world.
What happened to him after that?
Regrettably, Yeongguk hadn’t cared enough to know what became of Ji Dongyeon. Even when he looked back on his memories as an actor in his past life, the name Ji Dongyeon was nowhere to be found, so he must have quit acting somewhere along the way. At that moment, as if to express her frustration at the repeatedly interrupted rehearsal, Park Sangah spoke up loud enough for the other actors to hear.
“Why is Ji-sunbae acting like that? He’s been out of it for days now, like a zombie. Is he going to ruin the whole play at this rate?”
She wasn’t wrong. The fact that he couldn’t give a clear reason for his lack of focus meant there was definitely a serious problem, but since he was suffering alone, no one could help him. If things kept going like this, he might make the same mistakes at the Daehan Theater Festival. But still.
“Ugh, look at that. The troupe leader’s talking and he’s not even listening. And he calls himself a sunbae.”
She’d crossed the line. Given her usually fiery personality, her words were understandable, but still, this was within the troupe. It was clear she was looking down on Ji Dongyeon, who was less popular and less well-known than herself. Comments like that only hurt the group. Yeongguk looked at actress Park Sangah and spoke firmly.
“Park-sunbae, if you can’t say it to his face, don’t say it behind his back.”
* * *
Just a week before the Daehan Theater Festival.
“Where’s Ji Dongyeon!”
A sudden, unwelcome guest barged into the troupe. His face was flushed red and blue, and his raised eyebrows made it clear he wasn’t here for a friendly visit. Breathing heavily, he tore through the troupe as if searching for something, forcing troupe leader Lee Changhun to step in.
“What’s the meaning of this? This is private property and a place where actors are working. Please leave immediately!”
“I know you’re hiding Ji Dongyeon here, so cut the crap and bring him out. I’m not taking a single step until you do.”
“If you keep this up, I’ll call the police.”
“Police? Fine! Call them, right now! Do you have any idea how much money that bastard owes me?”
There was no reasoning with this guy. He looked like he might rip off his shirt and sprawl out on the floor at any moment, so Lee Changhun frowned and looked toward the stage. But Actor Ji Dongyeon, who had just been doing a run-through on stage, had vanished without a trace. While Changhun tried to calm the intruder himself, the actors on stage looked visibly uneasy.
What the hell.
Yeongguk swallowed dryly and headed straight for the waiting room behind the stage. It was already a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, as if Ji Dongyeon had hurriedly changed and run off, and he must have been in such a rush that he’d even forgotten his wallet on the table. Yeongguk grabbed the wallet and left the waiting room, heading for the audience seats.
Still going at it.
The intruder and Lee Changhun were still arguing. Several managers tried to intervene, but the intruder was shouting Ji Dongyeon’s name at the top of his lungs, loud enough to shake the whole troupe. No matter how much experience you had in society, it was impossible to calm a raging bull like that. Unable to watch any longer, Yeongguk put his hand on the intruder’s shoulder and said,
“How much is it?”
The intruder turned his head at Yeongguk’s sudden voice. Yeongguk shouted again.
“How much money did Ji-sunbae borrow from you!”
Everyone flinched at Yeongguk’s booming voice, as if he’d swallowed a train whistle. The intruder was no exception. Yeongguk was angrier about Ji Dongyeon running off without a word than about the interrupted run-through. The intruder quickly scowled and shot back.
“One hundred million won! What, are you going to pay it back for him?”
Everyone’s face went pale at the mention of such a huge sum. But Yeongguk just nodded shortly, as if he’d expected it, and added,
“Do I look crazy enough to pay back that kind of money for him? Cut the crap and get out of here. I get that you’re pissed about losing your money, but do you think Ji Dongyeon’s going to fall from the sky just because you’re screaming his name in a place he’s not even at? Can’t you see the other people here? Did anyone here commit a crime against you, or owe you money?”
At Yeongguk’s outburst, the intruder glared at him. But he didn’t dare come any closer. After all, Yeongguk had grown up among sailors. If nothing else, he was confident he’d never lose a battle of wills. Yeongguk shouted at the intruder again.
“Go find Ji Dongyeon and grab him by the collar or throw him to the ground. Do whatever you want, but get out of here!”
* * *
The sky was tangled with power lines, and the winding stairs were as steep as a mountain trail. The outer walls of the cramped shantytown were all cracked, as if a drought had hit. Yeongguk followed the address on Ji Dongyeon’s resident registration card, which he’d found in the wallet.
The place he finally arrived at was a shack so shabby, it was hard to believe it belonged to a once-famous actor. The rusty green gate had lost its color, and even the lock barely worked. When he opened the door, the rusty gate screeched out a hideous sound.
What a stench.
The foul smell stung his nose, making him doubt whether this was really Ji Dongyeon’s home. After all, Ji Dongyeon always showed up at the troupe looking neat and tidy, so it was hard to match this place with that image. As he stepped inside, the first thing he saw were soju bottles rolling around on the floor.
Is he really here?
The few pieces of furniture, so old they looked like they belonged in an abandoned house, were caked with dust. He fumbled around the dark room and turned on the light, and a fixture missing one bulb cast a faint glow. Only then did the whole room come into view.
Ha.
The room was a complete mess, with soju bottles scattered everywhere, and in one corner, Ji Dongyeon was curled up, sleeping like a shrimp. Whether the gas had been cut off or the bills hadn’t been paid, the floor was icy cold. Yeongguk looked down at the drunken Ji Dongyeon and recalled his past life.
I was like this too.
After losing his mother in his past life, hadn’t he drowned himself in alcohol as well? Back then, he’d had such a bad personality that no one came looking for him. With no work, his wallet was always empty, and so he’d spent his last days staring at a dim lightbulb. Yeongguk went to the kitchen, filled a dusty pot with tap water, and then—
Thud.
He approached Ji Dongyeon, who was curled up on the floor. Ji Dongyeon, sleeping like a shrimp, was so dependent on alcohol that he could sleep soundly even in this freezing room. Unable to watch any longer, Yeongguk splashed the cold water from the pot onto his face.
Splaash.
Drenched in cold water, Ji Dongyeon’s eyes flew open and he shot up, gasping. When he met Yeongguk’s gaze, he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, as if wondering if this was a dream. Then—
“Why are you living like this?”
Yeongguk asked quietly. Only then did Ji Dongyeon seem to realize this wasn’t a dream but reality, and his face flushed with shame. He plopped down on the dusty floor and spoke self-deprecatingly.
“Why am I living like this? I don’t know. I woke up one day and this is what I’d become. I know how pathetic I must look to you. I can’t even bring myself to say sorry to you or the others. But how did you find me here?”
“You must’ve been in such a hurry that you left your wallet in the waiting room. But what happened? You’ve done plenty of work, and for someone of your experience, I wouldn’t think money would be a problem. Did you gamble or something?”
“It’s not that. Actually, it’s because of my father…”
Ji Dongyeon confessed, as if he had nothing left to hide. The reason he, who wasn’t even married, had borrowed such a huge sum—one hundred million won—was this: his father had recklessly started a business, and Ji Dongyeon had supported him. But the business failed, and the shock made his father’s illness worse, and he passed away.
Maybe that was why. He’d become so mentally fragile that he couldn’t cope without alcohol, and in the end, he’d even been dropped by his agency.
“No one in broadcasting or Chungmuro looks for me anymore. Then Writer Jeong came to find me. When someone offers to use a piece of trash like me, who am I to say no?”
Looking at him, Yeongguk felt as if he were seeing his past self. The reason Ji Dongyeon was pouring his heart out to a much younger hoobae was probably because he’d had no one to talk to all this time.
Back then, Yeongguk had also wanted to confide in someone, but there was no one around. When your heart is this weak, just having someone by your side is a huge comfort.
“What are you going to do from now on?”
“Huh?”
“Are you just going to keep running away? That creditor will probably show up at the troupe again soon, or maybe even at the Daehan Theater Festival. Are you going to keep causing trouble for everyone? What about Writer Jeong and Director Seong? Those two are making their comeback after years away from the theater, and you’re going to ruin it for them?”
At Yeongguk’s scolding, Ji Dongyeon couldn’t lift his head.
“Do you think you’ll find the answer by staring at the floor? Come back to the troupe starting tomorrow. And tell the creditor you’ll pay him back somehow after the Daehan Theater Festival. I’ll help you.”
“What are you talking about? I have some pride, you know. How could I take money from a hoobae?”
“Does age or experience put food on the table? I’m not saying I’ll just give you the money. I’ll write up a loan agreement, charge you proper interest, and lend it to you. Start acting again. This isn’t me giving you a handout. It’s like a last chance from someone who once wasted his life away in a drunken stupor, just like you.”
Ji Dongyeon didn’t understand what Yeongguk was saying. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to ask a hoobae for help, so he hesitated to answer. Seeing this, Yeongguk sighed. In a way, it was just like his own past. And Ji Dongyeon was much younger than Yeongguk had been when he’d decided to end it all. So—
“Forget about age or experience, let’s just be blunt for a second.”
Yeongguk stared at Ji Dongyeon’s haggard face and said,
“Get a grip, Ji Dongyeon.”
