“Mr. Yeonghwan, can you scrape every recent piece on ZA? I’d even take something like ‘the chairwoman swapped her Ferrari from yellow to red.’ Anything.”
“Got it.”
After assigning ZA research to Do Yeonghwan, Seonguan turned back to the monitors. The graph was trending up.
‘When Team Lead Ji checked it, there was definitely nothing that would count as a fatal flaw.’
Ever since Ji Seongin acknowledged him, the two had been in sync and flying high. The bonus the other day—wasn’t that thanks to their teamwork?
But now—
On the very product the two of them had designed together, and that My Asset Management was about to push hard and start rolling in earnest, a red alert had been found.
Others might see ZA’s graph as red, but to Seonguan’s eyes, this graph was unmistakably black.
Companies whose stock will rise show up red.
Companies whose stock will fall show up blue.
And when the graph is black...
“...Trading’s going to be halted.”
“Sorry?”
“ZA could turn into scrap paper. A cash-flow problem.”
...Which means delisting.
‘Mr. Ha Seomyeong, you’re really good.’
I try not to presume to judge other people, but Mr. Ha’s acting was impressive.
The flustered face of someone in love, the flustered face of someone who’s just noticed a mistake, the flustered face of someone facing a major problem—they were all different. I could only think: of course an experienced person is different.
‘Come to think of it, Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon were great with expressions too.’
The only faces I know how to make are “smile overflowing with joy before clocking out” and “smile full of happiness because payday,” but their smiles covered a much wider spectrum.
Maybe that’s why the system gave me the mission to guest on “In My Office”—to study this stuff and raise my dance mastery. Not knowing what the system is thinking, all I can do is speculate.
‘I like to think I wring my soul into even the routine scenes.’
In practice, not once has anyone told me my expressions looked awkward. Partly because expectations for me aren’t high, but at least it means I’m not irritating on camera.
If I’m keeping my own side of things together, then I need ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) to find a direction to grow.
Like, study my seniors’ performances hard to find what I lack, or pay more attention to chemistry with partners...
“Iwol, could you throw this out?”
...or keep my senior in a good mood.
For Jang Junhu, UA was his own front yard. So his misbehavior was simple:
As long as the family didn’t hear about it, it was fine. That was his mindset.
Gu Jahan, by contrast, tends to justify himself.
This is a set, on a set the main workers are actors, and the site should revolve around actors—that’s his creed.
Picking fights with non-actors—cast who aren’t actors by trade or with staff—comes from the same place.
It’s his first lead, but he’s also proud of having acted for a good ten years since becoming an adult.
‘He thinks he’ll set the tone for any punks who “pollute” the sacred set.’
Opposite someone like that, they cast an idol-turned-actor: Mr. Ha Seomyeong. Different starting lines or not, their time in the industry wasn’t separated by many years.
Even when Gu Jahan made his displeasure plain, Mr. Ha didn’t respond. Which meant Gu didn’t get what he wanted—he couldn’t establish a pecking order.
People like that need someone beneath their feet to feel at ease. To show off.
“Watch this guy. You mess up, you could get treated like him.” That’s what Gu wanted to demonstrate.
I got caught in that hierarchy play. Which is perfect for him: I’m a current idol, I only have a few lines, yet my senior who’s also an idol has been looking out for me so my scenes keep growing, and the directors dote on me.
“Iwol, work hard. There are plenty of kids who’d kill to be here.”
“I honestly think... we need to stop idols from crossing over into acting. It lowers the quality of the work. Don’t you feel that when you say your lines?”
Any time we were waiting in the same place, Gu Jahan whispered nonstop, enough that anyone passing by might mistake us for close friends.
Not that anyone would, given how often he calls me a clown.
But is he really that oblivious? Mr. Ha acts better than he does.
If he envied doing both, he could make a dazzling idol debut himself.
He pestered me so much that when I started just pretending to listen, he gradually began giving me errands.
“By the way—my hands are totally empty—since you’re tossing that, throw mine too,” or “If you’re going to the greenroom, could you take my bag?”
Once, Mr. Ha caught him at it, and they had it out. Of all days, it was the day Gu had to spit out the line to Mr. Ha: “Fine, yeah, I do care about Mr. Seonguan. Satisfied?!” I can’t tell you how worried I was that the shoot would get ruined.
So while I’m grateful to and sorry toward Mr. Ha, I’ve been quietly humoring Gu’s nonsense in ways that won’t hurt the production or Mr. Ha.
Same on his end. Maybe he decided there’s nothing to gain from poking the lead, so now he only rides me when Mr. Ha is in a take.
“Iwol, that coffee I asked you to toss—did you already throw it away?”
“Yes, I just did.”
“Oh, you tossed it already?”
He knit his brows, like he was in a bind.
You told me to hurry up and toss it, f**k. You’re really pushing it. I’ve been living nice and gentle since UA calmed down.
“Thinking about it, I might have left my personal cup holder on that cup.”
He trailed off there. Silence.
It was obvious what he wanted to say.
“Is it important?”
“Yeah, it was a gift from a fan. I really need to find it.”
So your fan’s gift—and I’m the one who has to—
I thought dumpster-diving was behind me after Hanpyeong Industries. That was arrogance.
“I’ll look for it, sunbae!”
I answered with a bright smile.
What workplace has no fossils? Everyone lives like this somewhere.
It may vary by set, but on “In My Office” we use giant plastic bags as trash bins.
We do sort recycling, but with dozens of people generating waste, the volume is always enormous.
And I’m in that bag hunting for a disposable takeout cup that is presumably the one Gu Jahan used. F**king great.
If there had been some distinctive cup holder, there’s no way I would have missed it and just tossed it. He probably said any old thing just to make me do busywork.
Even so, there’s only one reason I’m doing this.
I can’t smear the group’s name in someone else’s workplace.
Unfortunately, one entertainer’s conduct becomes every entertainer’s conduct. If I mouth off at Gu, tomorrow’s entertainment headlines will read: “Idol’s insubordination crosses the line—ripple effects on the acting world...” I’ve seen my name in the news enough, however unintentionally, to know.
‘We need to air safely through Episode 12 to get the mastery, so I can’t send anyone packing mid-series like a certain someone.’
Panting, I had my hands and feet full re-sorting a mess of recycling on top of everything.
Hey, system, I’m keeping my morals and ethics pristine—could you give me something? Even with my pants soaked in coffee, I’m not snapping; I’m diligently sifting through paper cup sleeves.
But the system didn’t appear. Son of a bh. Motherfer.
Instead of the system, something else did.
“Iwol, still haven’t found it?”
Gu Jahan, this guy.
Why? If I had, were you going to pay a bounty, you jerk?
“No, sunbae, nothing stands out.”
“Ah, then I must’ve been mistaken.”
Even then, he didn’t say sorry or thanks.
I am genuinely curious. What exactly do people like this think they gain from behavior like that?
Just the pleasure of bothering someone? Shouldn’t you have graduated from that in elementary school?
I had a lot of thoughts, but this is work life. I kept my tone as clear and unruffled as possible and answered:
“I’m glad it wasn’t something important you lost.”
Maybe that backfired; his expression actually got worse.
“Iwol, do you not have pride? Or whatever?”
“Sorry?”
“Is it because you’re an idol? You have to keep face, is that it? Can’t even show a hint you dislike something.”
What does that have to do with idols? Do you think people hiding their dislike at work are rare?
There are like fifty million people in this country alone with the daily sorrow of masking their real feelings. If you’re going to pick a fight, at least find a decent pretext.
“I mean, whatever I ask, you’re all smiles; whenever someone calls, you trot over. Like someone desperate for praise, you poke around everywhere and stick your hands in everything. You think that’s doing well, don’t you?”
= The way you laugh through tough shoots, get along with everyone, and jump in to help with anything is really a thorn in my eye!
...Isn’t that what you mean? That’s how it sounds to me. If you’ve got a problem, grab a cable tie and bundle some LAN lines yourself.
I’m not planning to be the only one not managing my face when I’ve already told the Spark brats that not smiling is a sin. And if someone calls and you don’t go, that’s just flunking Social Skills 101.
Silently, I lifted my foot out of the trash bag.
Watching me, Gu Jahan said:
“Soon enough you’ll be flashing your belly to the director. My dog does exactly that.”
He’d long since crossed the line as a coworker. Now he stepped over the line as a human being.
“Who knows, Iwol? Maybe you’ll get a few extra lines.”
Which is to say: I truly don’t get it.
What do people hope to gain by insulting others in ways this cheap?
