Chapter 20: Stories Over Barbecue

Because so many people were attending, the dinner venue was unusually large.

It was a spacious, private barbecue restaurant located not far from the broadcasting station.

Naturally, the actors were assigned to their own rooms, and the staff to theirs.

And even among the actors’ rooms, the main cast and supporting cast were separated.

It was dressed up as “let’s group people by age so it’s more comfortable,” but even someone as unfamiliar with the entertainment industry as Han-geon could clearly see the hierarchy.

Eating meat together among staff members made things feel far more relaxed.

Han-geon comfortably picked at the grilled meat.

Originally, he hadn’t planned on drinking tonight since he was supposed to drive Eun-gyeol home, but since they would be calling a chauffeur instead, and because Eun-gyeol had insisted over and over before the dinner that he should relax and have a drink, he sipped a bit of beer.

Some staff members had worked on the same productions before and greeted one another happily.

Those who were unfamiliar at first quickly warmed up as drinks were exchanged.

“So, this was back when I’d just started this job, not long after joining the industry.

Since everything was new, I was in this ‘I must protect my actor at all costs’ mode, right?

So whenever someone recognized him and came up saying, ‘Um, can I get a picture…?’ I’d jump in all stern, like, ‘No, absolutely not!’ And my actor scolded me for it.”

“Why?”

“Back then he didn’t have many fans, so the few that did show up were precious.

But I kept blocking them without reading the situation.”

Everyone burst into laughter at the young man’s flushed, excited storytelling.

Han-geon also laughed and took another sip of his drink.

Suddenly, the man’s gaze fell on him.

“You’re Cha Eun-gyeol’s manager, right?”

“Huh?

Ah, yes.”

“Then you wouldn’t know this feeling at all.

Must be nice.

Probably feels like being in the heavens.”

With his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, Han-geon gave an awkward laugh.

“Haha… I’ve only just started too.”

“Still, I’m jealous.

I wish I could manage a top actor just once.”

“Same.

I feel like my pride would skyrocket.

If people asked, ‘Whose manager are you?’ and you just said his name—bam!—everyone would be like, ‘Ohhh.’”

“True, true.

But it might be tough to manage him.

I feel like people would come at him from everywhere.

Stalker types.”

Stalkers.

He’d already run into several at events and filming sites.

That was, in fact, the biggest reason he’d decided to become both Eun-gyeol’s manager and guard.

How many more of those situations would he face in the future?

Han-geon gave a wry smile and nodded.

“Yeah… there are quite a few of those.”

“But… is that rumor true?”

The young man who had been whining suddenly lowered his voice.

“Is it true that Cha Eun-gyeol is… you know, difficult and prickly?”

“Right, I’ve heard that too.

Though it’s one of those things we only whisper about.”

“That’s not true.

It’s a misunderstanding.

Eun-gyeol-ssi is actually really kind.”

Han-geon said firmly.

The people who had leaned in, listening, nodded slowly with replies like “Oh, is that so,” though they didn’t seem entirely convinced.

With how many managers Eun-gyeol had burned through, it was natural that rumors would spread.

Still, Han-geon hated that this kind of talk circulated among the staff and decided to defend his actor more actively.

“He might come across as chic, so maybe that’s where the misunderstanding comes from… but he’s actually really soft-hearted and thoughtful.

He takes care of people.

Yesterday during my welcome dinner, he took really good care of me—told me to drink without worry and even drove me home himself.”

The staff’s expressions turned progressively more shocked.

Nothing Eun-gyeol had done was typical behavior for an actor toward a manager.

And yet that infamously prickly, aloof Cha Eun-gyeol had done all that?

Their jaws dropped, and questions poured out.

“Seriously…?

I can’t believe it.”

“Wow.

That’s super sweet.”

“Right?

If Hyunsoo could just do even, like, a tenth of that… He just snaps at me all the time.”

Listening to their chatter, Han-geon felt strangely pleased.

He hadn’t mentioned that he and Eun-gyeol were friends—but… well, there was no need to say it.

Then the young staffer who had first spoken to him chimed in again.

“But this time, the manager seems a bit different.”

“Me?

How so?”

Had he looked too much like a newbie on his first day?

Han-geon scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“Well, you know how this industry is… There’s this thing where the manager’s attitude is influenced by how famous the actor is.

Like, if they’re managing someone really popular, some managers start acting arrogant.”

“Yeah.

Honestly, some of Cha Eun-gyeol’s previous managers were pretty bad.”

“Totally.

A few were really stuck-up.”

Everyone agreed enthusiastically.

Hearing that, Han-geon felt he understood more clearly why Eun-gyeol’s managers changed so often.

He had assumed it was only because Eun-gyeol was difficult—but maybe some managers were simply incompatible with him.

“But you seem really nice.

Humble, too.”

“Me?

Haha, no…”

“No, really.

Here, cheers.”

“We’ll be seeing each other often, so let’s get along.”

Warm words and drinks were exchanged.

Then, all of a sudden, the room door swung open.

A man strode in, and several people brightened in recognition.

“Oh—sir!

Hello.”

“Oh, hey.

Long time no see.”

Seeing the man who walked in, Han-geon also stood up and greeted him politely.

Several other staff members did the same.

The department head approached, greeting familiar faces, then patted Han-geon’s back with a delighted smile.

“Well, well!

Han-gun!

Great to see you here.”

“Hello, sir.

Please, sit.”

“Sure, sure.”

Taking the soju glass from Han-geon with a pleased expression, the department head looked far more relaxed than he had during their first meeting at the company.

“So, today’s table read was your first schedule, right?

How was it?”

“Ah—hello, sir.

My first schedule… It was good.”

When Han-geon answered with a shy smile, the department head chuckled.

“Good, huh?

I knew you’d be different.

What was so good?”

“Well… being at the read made everything feel real, like I’m really starting this job.”

He answered plainly, but it had been much more than that.

Ever since last night’s dinner, he had felt so excited and happy he could hardly sleep.

How could he possibly express all of it in words?

Still, it wasn’t something he could simply describe as ‘100% good.’ Today had already been filled with so many things.

As he had rushed back and forth, the memories replayed again and again—his heart riding a roller coaster.

His first time stepping into Eun-gyeol’s bedroom… the breath-stealing moment lying beside him… the thrill he’d felt watching Eun-gyeol act with burning intensity… and that annoyed expression when he stripped off his own shirt and complained about Han-geon’s chest showing…

He would be with Eun-gyeol every day from now on.

Getting swept up in the meaning behind every expression and gesture wasn’t right.

But feelings never obeyed logic.

He told himself it was only because it was the first day—that he would soon get used to it.

The department head patted Han-geon’s shoulder affectionately.

“Knew it.

Glad you’re doing well.

Fun watching a table read for the first time, right?”

“Yes, it was.

Eun-gyeol was really impressive.”

“That kid—temper’s a bit sharp, but he’s solid when it comes to work.”

He raised his soju glass toward Han-geon and smiled faintly.

“The drama this time is about thoracic surgeons, right?

He asked me to arrange a meeting with a real doctor so he could get advice.

Said he wanted private lessons, too—wanted the doctor to check whether his tone when reading medical lines sounded natural.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Yeah.

He wrote down the whole process of emergency care and surgery to memorize it, and even learned all the medical terms separately.

Obsessed over it.

Writers usually get a lot of medical advice for dramas, but it’s rare for the actor himself to go meet doctors regularly and take lessons.

It’s not like it’s action or arts.”

So that was why.

Han-geon remembered how, earlier, the moment Eun-gyeol had opened the script, his gaze and voice had changed completely.

He had the ability to pull the audience into seeing not the actor Cha Eun-gyeol, but the character “Cha Gang-woo.”

“He’s gifted.

Not just talented—he throws himself into the character with a level of obsession that’s honestly his greatest strength.

Sometimes it feels like he’s forcing the viewers to fall into the character with him.

Making it impossible not to.

That’s his biggest weapon.”

The department head’s tone was serious.

Listening to him, Han-geon felt he could finally understand why, despite all of Eun-gyeol’s attitude problems and how many managers he had burned through, upper management hadn’t cracked down on him.

It wasn’t just the revenue he brought in.

It was his passion, and the sincerity he brought to the craft.

The affection the department head had for him was far deeper than Han-geon expected.

“Anyway, did you eat enough?”

“Yes, I ate plenty.”

“Good, good.

Let’s have a drink.”

Han-geon politely joined him in another toast.

Though Eun-gyeol had told him to drink as he liked, Han-geon avoided drinking too much.

He only pretended to sip.

The conversation flowed comfortably—about the upcoming shoots, about the company.

“Hey, Han-geon.

Want to step outside with me for a bit?”

“Yes, of course.”

The department head pushed himself to his feet and led Han-geon out.

He guided him to a quiet, empty space behind the restaurant.

He rummaged inside his light summer jacket, pulled out a cigarette, and offered one.

Han-geon politely declined.

While the man exhaled white plumes of smoke, Han-geon simply stood by.

After a moment, the department head cleared his throat.

“Han-geon.

Actually… I brought you out here because there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Ah—yes, sir.

Please speak freely.”

With a low hum, the department head let out another stream of smoke.

“The truth is… there’s a reason none of Eun-gyeol’s managers last more than a hundred days.”