Chapter 67

Choi Yook had broached the subject with measured calculation. It was a domestic cosmetics line where Choi Sijin had landed his very first solo commercial following his idol debut.

Though Choi Sijin grumbled about the brand’s modest scale, he took contract renewal for granted. Having journeyed with them since the inception of his career, it held a distinctly sentimental meaning for him.

Choi Yook tapped his fingers against the armrest. “Their contract period is nearly up, isn’t it?”

The question served as little more than a simple confirmation, met with the subordinate’s prompt nod.

“Yes, that is correct,” Han Seo-yoon affirmed.

“Then it won’t be difficult,” Choi Yook directed coolly. “Slip the file on Sijin’s school violence to their marketing head. They must be in the market for a fresh image anyway, so it works out well for everyone. That should also serve as sufficient reason for Sijin to learn why his contract was terminated.”

Because it had unfolded covertly within the insular world of private academies and trainee dorms, no official disciplinary record remained, but the cruelty had been venomous. Forcing victims to sing until their vocal cords tore, making them do push-ups while sitting on their lower backs, holding a lit lighter to their faces under the guise of building courage—such was the nature of his abuse.

Even as the victims testified to Choi Yook, they had been half in doubt, murmuring that he was the very first person ever to listen to their accounts. The moment Choi Sijin’s name was mentioned, everyone else either dismissed their words or flatly ignored them. Broken in spirit, they had not even dared to post exposure threads online.

Choi Yook thought it was only natural. The fanatical popularity trailing Choi Sijin was immense enough to make even Choi Yook shake his head in disgust.

Hence, his target was not the fickle public, but the brand itself. No matter how much the public adored Choi Sijin, and no matter how fond of him the brand might be, hard-nosed corporate calculation was an entirely different matter.

A corporation would never willingly shoulder even the slightest risk—all the more so in an industry acutely sensitive to its public image. It was obvious that one of the strings suspending Choi Sijin in midair would soon be severed.

When Choi Sijin finally plunged, Seo Mu-yeong would come to his senses and realize it too: just what a pointless illusion had bewitched him. Feeling a parching thirst dry out his mouth, Choi Yook met Han Seo-yoon’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“You can handle it quickly, right?”

It was, in effect, a direct command to make haste. Han Seo-yoon gave a dependable nod.

“I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow, the moment day breaks.”

Choi Yook nodded silently. Then he gestured with his chin toward the passenger seat.

“Take out the Okchundang from the glove compartment there.”

“…Pardon?” Han Seo-yoon blinked, caught off guard.

Though bewildered, Han Seo-yoon retrieved the box of Okchundang and handed it back to Choi Yook. The transparent plastic container remained untouched, its factory seal still firmly in place. Han Seo-yoon could not quite suppress his curiosity.

“Do you like Okchundang?”

“Not particularly,” Choi Yook replied flatly.

Without bothering to elaborate, Choi Yook popped a piece of Okchundang into his mouth. As a child, he had detested these multicolored candies. Even without tasting them, they had felt like the very symbol of those tedious gut rituals.

That was why he had rejected the Okchundang the child offered him back then. The child hadn’t even looked embarrassed, merely sticking out a tongue dyed with food coloring and laughing. But after the child vanished so suddenly, the memory had lingered in Choi Yook’s heart as an endless regret.

I should have just eaten it. What did my petty pride even matter? The kid probably saved it from his meager snacks just to pack it for me.

Then, after all those years, when Seo Mu-yeong abruptly pulled out a piece of Okchundang inside the car, Choi Yook had felt as though a chance to wash away that lingering regret had presented itself. Even though Seo Mu-yeong was a completely different person from that child. And so, he had simply put it into his mouth.

Tasted for the first time, the Okchundang was a mix of sugary sweetness and pungent peppermint. In a way, the candy resembled Seo Mu-yeong. A flashy exterior harboring a core that seemed simple, yet bit with unexpected sharpness.

He wasn’t trying to dilute the precious memory of the child with Seo Mu-yeong. It was merely a metaphor, a passing association. Surprisingly hard, to the point where biting down wrong threatened to slice the inside of one’s mouth on the sharp shards—was that not remarkably like Seo Mu-yeong?

Cutting off any further thoughts, Choi Yook crunched the candy, swallowed it, and glanced to the side. A heavy kimchi container sloshing with soy-sauce marinade occupied the seat.

“Can dogs not eat marinated galbi?”

Choi Yook tossed out the question without giving it much thought. Han Seo-yoon turned around with urgent haste.

“No, sir,” Han Seo-yoon answered in a rush. “Because the marinade contains ingredients like garlic, it can be toxic to dogs.”

“Then toss this on the way and buy some raw meat to feed Ppobbi,” Choi Yook said, gesturing toward the container.

Choi Yook tapped the kimchi container and set an envelope of cash on top of it. A faint smile spread across Han Seo-yoon’s face.

“Thank you, sir.”

Carrying the two men, the car gathered speed as it headed toward Choi Yook’s residence—a reflection of Han Seo-yoon’s rare eagerness to get home quickly.

The following day, Seolgi unexpectedly feasted on beef round. And the work Han Seo-yoon carried out afterward was even swifter and cleaner than usual.

A few days later, the cosmetic brand bid a fond farewell to Choi Sijin. A member of a rookie girl group was selected as their new brand model.

No ripple stirred the outside world. Even Choi Sijin’s fans raised no complaints. Among the brands he endorsed, there were plenty of corporations far larger and more famous than that one. Partings were, after all, an inevitable milestone of growth.

To Choi Sijin, however, it seemed like the opening flare of his downfall. The white dog, of which not a single tuft of fur had been found despite combing the entire mountain, only stoked his dread. A helpless terror surged over him like a tidal wave.

“Did you contact them? I asked if you called them! Why haven’t you called? Call them right now, damn it!”

Sitting in the back of the van, Choi Sijin shrieked at his blameless manager. In the driver’s seat, the manager hunched his shoulders tight.

“I did,” the manager stammered, shrinking back. “I called, but…”

“‘But’ what? What did they say? Why are they refusing to work with me!” Choi Sijin barked in fury.

“Well, it’s the same thing,” the manager pleaded timidly. “Just like they said last time, they need a fresh image…”

Choi Sijin hurled the perfume bottle in his hand at him. When the bottle struck the steering wheel and dropped to the floor without shattering, unable to contain his fury, he clawed viciously at the passenger seat’s headrest.

“Fuck, why the hell would they need a fresh image when they have me? If anyone’s walking away, it’s me dumping them—how dare those bastards reject me! Where else are they going to find a model like me, you blind pieces of shit!”

Choi Sijin threw his fit right in front of the trembling manager. Then, stamping his feet, he dialed Choi Yook. He felt as though hearing his brother’s voice, even for a fleeting second, would quell some of this anxiety. Lately, Choi Yook had been strangely unresponsive, but surely that was only because Sijin hadn’t called repeatedly—he just didn’t realize how serious it was.

Yet even as the missed calls piled up to three, Choi Yook did not respond. I’m going this far, and he’s ghosting me? Choi Sijin slammed his head against the headrest. The hairstyle that had been meticulously styled strand by strand was ruined in an instant. His violently trembling hands dug into his thighs.

“You piece of shit… Do you think I’m going to cling to you even more?”

I don’t even need to call anyway. Hyung likes me. The name I stole is still mine. Choi Sijin repeated the words to himself as he gnawed on his fingernails. Yet even when the white tips of his nails were completely chewed away and beads of blood formed, the trembling did not stop. He whipped his head toward the manager.

“Head to the department store,” Choi Sijin ordered harshly. “Go to the food hall and buy any wine over three hundred thousand won. Get an opener and glasses, too. I’ll give you my card.”

The manager’s already pale face drained of what little color remained.

“What? No, you can’t,” the manager protested weakly. “You’re on your way to a shoot. And not with just anyone—you’re shooting with your former group members…”

“Didn’t you hear me? Step on it, right now!” Choi Sijin snarled violently.

Choi Sijin threw a punch into the driver’s headrest. Squeezing his eyes shut, the manager changed routes. Choi Sijin worked his parched mouth, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

What’s wrong with wine? Wine is good for your health. It’s completely different from the soju Father drinks. As if that weren’t enough, to be an actor, I don’t do drugs, don’t go to clubs, don’t gamble—I live like an absolute saint.

Right then, his phone suddenly rang. Of course. Without even checking the caller ID, Choi Sijin flashed a grin and snatched up the call. But the voice that came through was not the one he anticipated.

—“Sijin-ah, it’s Mom. Did you sleep well last night? You didn’t call Yook, did you?”

“…”

—“I told you last time, didn’t I? Even if you’re a little anxious right now, it wouldn’t look good to outsiders. Don’t worry too much. Mom is taking good care of Taoist Master, so…”

Don’t worry? Easy for you to mutter when your own mind is at ease. Fury surged inside Choi Sijin.

“Did you call just to spout that useless bullshit?” he snapped into the receiver.

—“No, that’s not it—it’s urgent. Taoist Master said it’s best if nothing black touches your body today. But your van is black, isn’t it? So don’t ride the van today. I’ll drive you. Okay?”

Confronted with this sudden prophecy, Choi Sijin opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

“…What?”

—“What if you get into a sudden accident or get hurt? I can’t bear to see you lying in a hospital bed ever again. Even now, while we’re talking, my stomach is in knots worrying something might happen to you. Taoist Master warned that a misfortune no gut can ward off is headed your way. For the time being, you have to lay low and be extremely careful. Please, don’t brush it off like you used to and just listen to Taoist Master.”

Her tearful voice left Choi Sijin’s ears ringing. Ride his mom’s car to his schedules like some little brat? And let people see that pathetic sight?

No matter how excessive the shaman’s nagging had been in the past, his interference had never reached this level. Yet given the current circumstances, it was difficult to dismiss his words as casually as before.

After all, that missing mutt had never been found. That was essentially the same as his own ill fortune running rampant and tearing through the world. If he rode the van to the set like this, it felt as though a suspended lighting rig would crash right down on his head.

“…I’ll send you the address, so come pick me up there,” Choi Sijin muttered grudgingly.

Pressing his throbbing temple, Choi Sijin hung up the call. The instant he did, his eyes locked with the manager’s in the rearview mirror. Choi Sijin ground his teeth, glaring at him.

“Buy two bottles of wine. Once I finish drinking, drive the van and follow me to the set alone. I… have to ride in a friend’s car.”

A wave of nausea washed over him, as though he were trapped in the throes of a vicious hangover. Everything surrounding him was revolting and suffocating. He couldn’t begin to fathom why his life, which ought to shine brighter than anyone else’s, was turning out like this.

Burying his face in his hands, Choi Sijin slumped forward over his knees. He didn’t want to think about anything anymore. He just wanted to drink wine.