Chapter 44 : White/Hundred (5)

At a classic bar in Gangnam, Seoul, a middle-aged man in a sharp suit sat at a table, waiting. The bartender, accustomed to this, placed a Faust and a Martini on the table. The man pushed the Martini aside and tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table. Kim Dohyung arrived and greeted him.

“It’s been a while.”
“Has it? About six months, I think.”
“You’ve been busy.”

They sat down and sipped their cocktails. Dohyung chuckled.

“How long are you going to keep using formal speech with me? I’m starting to sound like you.”
“You can drop the formalities, Dohyung. I heard you’re working on an independent film with Writer Park Saeron.”
“I am. It almost landed me in jail.”

The man frowned, prompting him to explain. Dohyung took a sip of his drink and recounted the incident during filming. The man nodded.

“That’s… unconventional. You’re not usually one for taking risks. What happened?”
“My conscience lost to my artistic ambition.”

He had known it was a risky shot. The potential for injury, the lack of safety equipment, the low return on investment… it was a dangerous gamble. But he had been swayed by his intuition, a gut feeling that the actor before him was capable of something extraordinary.

“I’m a little embarrassed, to be honest.”
“Don’t be. If you were a purely rational man, you would have dismissed her as too much trouble.”
“That’s… a scary thought.”

Dohyung looked at the man, who was smiling faintly.

Lee Huiseok. Known in the industry as the man who bought time.

Twenty-three years ago, a man who owned a snack food factory sold everything and started an entertainment company. He approached anyone who caught his eye, regardless of their fame or experience, with a simple offer:

‘I’d like to buy your time.’

He wasn’t just interested in actors. He had even approached Kim Dohyung, who was then a junior assistant in a production crew.

People in the industry mocked him, calling him a foolish rich man wasting his money. But that small company, with only three actors and an aspiring director, had grown into a major agency.

Huiseok brushed his shoulder and said,

“If you were willing to take such a risk, that actor must be quite…unique. Birds of a feather, and all that.”
“I’m not eccentric.”
“You are. Trust me.”

They chuckled. They took another sip of their drinks, enjoying the comfortable silence. Dohyung, after a long pause, spoke.

“You remember what you said when you recruited me?”
“I had goals. Some I achieved, some I didn’t, and some I still aspire to.”
“You said you wanted to make a perfect film.”

Dohyung remembered the day Huiseok had gathered his newly recruited staff and said, “I bought your time to make a perfect film.”

He had appointed Dohyung as the director, giving him unlimited resources and a single instruction: make a masterpiece.

The project had initially progressed smoothly. Dohyung and his team were passionate, and the financial backing was substantial. They would have started filming if they had just a little more time.

The problem arose internally. Two of the actors, having grown close during rehearsals, fell in love and got married.

That wouldn’t have been a problem, but then, one of them died during childbirth. The project was abandoned, leaving behind only regret and unanswered questions.

Dohyung pushed away the painful memories.

“Do you remember… Suyeon?”

Huiseok’s face hardened. The name was a taboo subject. He adjusted his tie.

“Do you know why I wanted to meet you here?”
“Why?”
“I had a feeling… we’d be talking about the past.”

He picked up his glass, staring at the crimson liquid.

“I drown my sorrows in alcohol. It’s the only way I can… talk about her.”

He downed the rest of his Faust, the potent liquid burning a path down his throat.

“Why bring her up now?”
“That girl, Lee Haram… she reminds me of Suyeon.”

Silence. Dohyung stood up.

“I’ll let you know when the film is finished. We’ll talk then.”

Huiseok sighed. The drink hadn’t brought the solace he had hoped for.

“It doesn’t taste the same anymore,” he said to the bartender.

“That’s because it’s different. They use a different rum now that Bacardi is discontinued.”
“I see… It’s not bad, but… I can’t seem to forget the original.”

He looked at his empty glass. It wasn’t just the taste; it was the memories associated with it.

I sat in the air-conditioned cafe, waiting.

A suspicious-looking figure approached, his face hidden behind sunglasses, a mask, and a baseball cap pulled low. I chuckled.

“Seriously?”
“I don’t want to be recognized. I tried my best, okay?”
“You just look even more suspicious. Like you’re trying too hard.”
“I… I’m not.”

It was Baek Hankyu. I smiled awkwardly, remembering how this had happened.

So Jihoon, the art student who saved Seol, made a deal with her.

Realizing her suicide attempt was driven by curiosity, he offered to satisfy that curiosity, asking her to be his model in return.

They spent every waking moment together. The key to this part of the story was the gradual development of a romantic connection between them. But after watching our rehearsal, Director Dohyung had asked,

“Have you guys ever even been in a relationship?”
“No,” Hankyu replied instantly.

Dohyung frowned.

“That’s… surprising. With your looks, you must have broken a few hearts.”
“I’ve been a trainee since I was young, and I just… haven’t been interested.”

He turned to me.

“Haram, have you ever been in a relationship?”

I was about to say no when I remembered a brief relationship in my past life, with a woman who claimed to be attracted to my “vulnerability.”

“I have.”
“When was your last relationship?”
“Ten years ago.”

I was in my mid-twenties then, so it was probably about ten years ago. Dohyung sighed deeply.

“How old are you, Haram?”
“Seventeen.”
“And seventeen minus ten is…?”
“Seven.”

Oh.
I finally understood the reason for his sigh. He rubbed his nose and gave us an assignment.

“There’s… zero chemistry between you two. I’m canceling tomorrow’s shoot. Go on a date or something.”

And that’s how we ended up here. Hankyu stared at my drink with a look of disgust.

“Ugh, what is that?”
“Mint chocolate frappe.”
“Why are you drinking toothpaste?”
“It’s not toothpaste! It’s a delicacy!”

I took a sip. I would have normally ordered an Americano, but my taste buds seemed to have changed in this body. I was craving sweet things lately.

Hankyu, sipping his iced Americano, sighed.

“So… what do we do now?”
“I have more experience, so… I can take the lead?”
“Your last relationship was when you were seven.”
“Th… There’s a misunderstanding…”

I bit my lip and outlined my plan, hoping to demonstrate my expertise in… romance.

“We can watch a play, then have Gukbap for lunch, and then go to a cafe.” (TL Note : Gukbap is a hearty Korean soup with rice)

Hankyul looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

“If we’re watching a play, we shouldn’t have met here. And… Gukbap again? Is that your only idea for lunch?”
“Gukbap is great! Delicious, affordable, and filling.”
“Just… leave it to me. I’ll figure something out.”

Two romantically challenged individuals… a recipe for disaster.
I watched as Hankyu struggled to come up with a plan. The ice in his coffee had half-melted by now.

“Are you sure we’re not going to end up just… sitting here until sunset?”
“Just give me a minute. I’m thinking.”
“Why don’t you ask someone for advice?”
“Good idea.”

He called a friend, putting the call on speakerphone.

“Hey, Hyunseok, how’s it going?”
-What do you want?

A gruff voice echoed from the phone. Hankyu got straight to the point.

“I have a date, and I need ideas.”
-Dinner, drinks, and then… home.
“She doesn’t drink. Any other suggestions?”
-Dinner, drinks, and then home.
“Are you even listening? And what do you mean ‘home’?”
-Take her home, you idiot.

Hankyu quickly ended the call. I smirked at him.

“You do realize that would be illegal, right?”