Chapter 64: Standing in Front

Perhaps feeling Wooju’s sharp presence, the man’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

It seemed that being called out—especially by someone he didn’t know—had pricked his pride quite a bit.

“Who said I’m offended? Hey, Won Jitae. Did what I said offend you?”

Ji Hyungyu suddenly pointed his finger toward Jitae behind Wooju.

His words had already been rude, and now even his actions were crossing the line.

If a senior asked like that, what junior would dare answer “yes”?

Grinding his teeth, Wooju grabbed the man’s hand firmly.

“Well, I’m offended. That’s enough, please.”

“What? Who do you think you are! Why are you interfering when you’re not even involved? Do you even know who I am?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry, but I don’t know you very well.

And I’m his manager.

So I have every right to step in.”

Wooju tightened his grip on Ji Hyungyu’s hand.

Startled by the unexpected strength, Ji Hyungyu shook his hand free.

“Ugh….”

Wooju’s hand flew back from the sudden motion and lightly hit the wall.

At that moment, Jitae—who had been staring blankly at Wooju’s back—felt his expression grow cold.

“Kang Wooju.”

“Yeah?”

Wooju answered while rubbing the back of his hand slightly.

“Go down to the parking lot first.”

“Hey…”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Jitae’s voice sounded different.

Heavy, as if pressed down by a massive stone.

Was he angry?

Only then did regret slowly creep into Wooju’s mind.

Maybe he had acted too impulsively.

No matter how angry he was, that man was still Won Jitae’s senior in the same industry.

Who was he to step in like that?

Because of that hierarchy, Jitae had probably been trying to brush it off himself.

Every once in a while, Wooju told himself he needed to fix this temper of his.

Yet it always repeated itself.

That very temper had already caused a huge incident during the friendly match.

Even he couldn’t find any sign of improvement in himself.

In any organization, especially where hierarchy was strict, there were moments when you had to endure things no matter how dirty or frustrating they felt.

Wooju, as an athlete, understood that atmosphere better than anyone.

But hearing someone mock Won Jitae with comments about connections and favoritism had made his vision go red.

By the time he regained his senses, he had already stepped in front of him.

“Okay. Got it.”

Wooju’s shoulders drooped.

Just then, the elevator arrived on the third floor, and he stepped inside.

Even as the doors slowly closed, Jitae didn’t glance his way.

A ding echoed, and the elevator began moving.

“Hey, what’s with that guy? I think I’ve seen him somewhere…

But shouldn’t you make him apologize to me? Why send him away like that?”

“Why should he apologize to you?”

“What?”

Jitae stepped forward toward Ji Hyungyu.

His tall frame and suddenly intimidating presence made the man flinch and stumble back slightly.

“Hey—what, what are you doing?”

“Senior, if you want to keep making a living through acting, I suggest you watch your mouth.”

“…What? What did you just say to me?”

The respectful “senior” tone he had used earlier had completely vanished.

“I didn’t want to deal with you, so I’ve always let things slide.

But this time you went too far.”

Jitae remembered the moment earlier when this man had roughly shaken Wooju’s hand away.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem like he had hit the wall too hard.

But an athlete’s body was their life.

Honestly, Jitae felt like breaking that wrist right then.

“Wow, so this is your real personality. I knew you were that kind of guy. Right now I’m going to—”

“As you said earlier, I know quite a few people in this industry.

Thanks to the success of the film, my value has gone up, and directors have been contacting me everywhere.

So what should I do?

Should I make sure you never get work again for the rest of your life?”

“……”

Perhaps the threat about his career hit its mark.

At Jitae’s words, the man’s endlessly chattering mouth shut completely.

But it wasn’t just that.

The chilling hostility spreading around them was enough to raise goosebumps.

The guy who had always responded politely with forced smiles suddenly glared and threatened him.

There was no way Ji Hyungyu could keep his confidence.

“If you want to keep acting, fix that habit of using your hands too.”

Jitae lightly tapped the man’s right hand.

Startled, he stepped back another pace.

Jitae irritably pressed the elevator button.

“Well, if you want to spread rumors or tell reporters, go ahead.

But it’s pretty obvious whether the president will take your side or mine.”

The elevator that had gone down to the basement came back up.

Jitae stepped inside.

Left alone, Ji Hyungyu released the breath he had been holding once the doors closed.

Soon after, his manager arrived and asked what had happened when he saw his pale face.

But Ji Hyungyu simply brushed it off, saying it was nothing.

“Yes, Won Jitae is still talking upstairs for a moment.

We’ll leave as soon as he comes down.”

After informing the filming team about the situation, Wooju collapsed forward onto the steering wheel.

“Ah, this damn temper of mine.”

He kept reflecting on his actions the entire time he walked down to the parking lot.

Looking at it rationally, that wasn’t a situation he should have interfered in.

If he had truly been Jitae’s manager, maybe it would have been different.

But he wasn’t even really a manager, yet he had spoken like that.

Moreover, Won Jitae would continue seeing that man in the future—as someone from the same agency and as a senior actor.

Wooju had practically delivered an uncomfortable situation to him.

“Still… why did that guy just stand there?

He’s always so quick to snap at me.”

Anyone could tell that man had been venting his frustration.

There was no way Won Jitae hadn’t noticed that.

That was probably why he had that empty expression earlier.

Wooju recalled Jitae’s face during that conversation.

Even when hearing humiliating words, Won Jitae didn’t look like he was suppressing anger.

He looked calm—almost accustomed to it.

As if he had given up.

It probably meant he had heard such things countless times before.

And yesterday during dinner, he had seemed strange.

Today his condition wasn’t good either.

Seeing him hear those insulting words with that expression—

there was no way Wooju could endure it.

“……”

Wooju tapped the steering wheel lightly while thinking.

Just then, the door opened and Jitae climbed into the passenger seat.

Whenever schedules ended and they returned, he always sat there.

“Kang Wooju, your hand…”

“Hey, sorry.”

Jitae was still wearing the black baseball cap pulled low.

Silence hung between them for a moment.

“…But actually, I’m not that sorry.”

“What?”

At those unexpected words, Jitae lifted his head.

“I know he’s your senior and that it wasn’t my place to interfere, so yeah, I thought maybe I acted out of line.

But even if we went back to that moment, I think I’d do the same thing again.”

“Why? Because you felt sorry for me hearing those words?”

“You’re built like a mountain. What’s there to pity?

I just didn’t like seeing your effort being belittled.

Someone who barely knows anything talking like that—of course that makes me angry.

No, more importantly, why did you just stand there and take it?”

Maybe this was what people meant when thoughts and words didn’t match.

On the way down, Wooju had been full of regret, blaming himself for interfering.

But those thoughts had long disappeared.

While waiting for Jitae, he had replayed the situation again and again.

And the more he thought about it, the clearer one thing became.

What annoyed him was that Won Jitae kept wearing that kind of expression and attitude.

“I’m used to it.

When you’re successful, there will always be people talking behind your back.

You know that too.”

Of course he knew.

When Wooju returned from overseas without leaving much of a mark and joined Baekyoung Construction, plenty of people whispered that he must have had some connection with the coach.

“Yeah, I know very well.

But every time someone said things like that, I always said something back.”

Perhaps imagining that scene, Jitae quietly nodded.

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you.”

“……”

Jitae slowly raised his head.

Under the brim of his cap, his eyes looked more drooped than usual.

His dark eyes trembled faintly, sending a sharp ache through Wooju’s chest.

“To be honest, since we’ve been apart for so long, I don’t really know you that well.

But I do know this.

You’re used to getting hurt.

And you never talk about what’s really inside you to anyone.”

Jitae lightly bit his lip.

He says he doesn’t know him well—

yet how can he say that so calmly while understanding so much?

Opening up about what was inside one’s heart was not something Jitae was used to.

Telling someone your thoughts or feelings meant sharing those emotions and asking them to understand.

And Jitae had already learned at a young age that such things didn’t always lead to good outcomes.

Even after entering this industry, it had been the same.

The more his career succeeded, the more enemies seemed to appear around him.