8.
At the statement that the hospital bill was a waste, CEO Im and Yongjae sneaked a glance at each other. It was not something Yoon Haean would typically say.
“There’s nothing wrong, so the doctor said I can be discharged. They said I can handle it with outpatient treatment.”
Choi Hongseo, who was taking out Yoon Haean’s belongings from the drawer and laying them on the bed, suddenly stopped. Then he looked across at CEO Im and Yongjae, who were standing blankly on the other side of the bed.
“Ah, speaking of which.”
“Huh? Uh… why?”
“The hospital bill is no joke because we took a single room. For someone who’s been lying unconscious all this time, there’s no need for a single room…”
This time, CEO Im and Yongjae’s faces froze. They looked like people who had lost their words in shock.
But it was CEO Im who spoke first.
“But still, Yoon Haean has a reputation to uphold. I got a single room considering your dignity, you know.”
The hospitalization fee was being withdrawn from Yoon Haean’s account, but CEO Im spoke as if he was disappointed, as though he was paying it with his own money. Then, belatedly realizing he had made a mistake, he raised his hands and corrected himself.
“Ah, right. Not Haean, but Hongseo. Hongseo.”
“No, it’s okay. I understand that I am Yoon Haean now. I have eyes too.”
“Oh? Really? Your memory’s back?”
CEO Im, delighted, circled the bed and grabbed Choi Hongseo’s shoulders. It was a swift move for his bulky frame. Choi Hongseo shook his head.
“I still don’t remember anything about Yoon Haean.”
CEO Im clicked his tongue bitterly and scratched the back of his head with the hand that had been holding Choi Hongseo’s shoulders.
“Well, that can happen. You must’ve already heard from your doctor, right? It’s not that rare. They said you could regain your memory anytime if you return to your previous life and don’t stress out.”
“Yes, I believe it’ll gradually come back.”
Am I really Yoon Haean, going insane? Or am I Choi Hongseo, experiencing an incident that no one would believe?
To clarify the situation, Choi Hongseo thought he needed to leave this hospital room and go out into the outside world. It wasn’t something anyone could solve by appealing to them. Who would believe such a story?
While stuffing his few belongings on the bed into his bag, Choi Hongseo bent back up and looked at CEO Im as if remembering something.
“And I’ll start working now.”
“……”
CEO Im just blinked his eyes. Yun Haean, who used to be quick to reject jobs by saying this or that didn’t suit him, now looking so firmly determined to work, was astonishing.
“But wouldn’t it be better to take a break for a while?”
Seemingly Yoon Haean, but actually Choi Hongseo, tossed his phone into the bag and replied firmly.
“I have an audition I really want to see.”
The sound of cicadas pierced through the open window, almost painfully loud, as if the dizzying heat of summer started from there, a surreal cry.
@
Yoon Haean lived in an officetel in Gangnam. It was a building similar to a residential-commercial apartment complex built by a major construction company. Yoon Haean’s home was about 85 square meters in exclusive area, not grandiose but the largest unit in the building.
Gangnam’s center, close to the stations, a major company’s officetel along the main street.
Yoon Haean’s idol group ‘Titan’ had certainly been popular once. However, they had just managed to repay their investments and started making profits. Like ‘Layered’, which Choi Hongseo had belonged to, ‘Titan’ had a long period of obscurity, and the investments to be recovered were not small.
Moreover, when the team was starting to rise, Yoon Haean suddenly declared his withdrawal, saying he was going to focus on acting.
He didn’t leave the agency ENA even after the withdrawal announcement. All ‘Titan’ members attended the press conference, supporting Yoon Haean’s future, creating an impression of an amicable withdrawal.
However, Yoon Haean’s acting career did not go as expected.
According to Choi Hongseo’s memory, Yoon Haean took the lead role in a terrestrial miniseries immediately after withdrawing. Casting him as the main actor, with only a few experiences in supporting roles, triggered controversy regarding his qualifications, but the broadcasting station proceeded as planned.
Ultimately, the drama ended with the lowest ratings, alongside criticism of Yoon Haean’s acting skills.
A few months later, Yoon Haean again took the lead in another project, with interviews expressing his determination to show a changed self, having put a lot of effort into practicing acting.
However, the public response was cold, showing no sign of improvement.
Consequently, articles criticizing the casting of some idol-turned-actors without acting skills were published multiple times.
Due to even lower ratings than his previous work, the drama had to end early.
That was the last thing involving Yoon Haean’s entertainment activities that Choi Hongseo remembered.
It didn’t seem like Yoon Haean had enough financial power to live in such a high-end officetel.
As Choi Hongseo stepped into an unfamiliar living room with an unfamiliar structure, he slowly looked around.
“Is this rented?”
“……”
Yongjae, who had followed in and put down some stuff on the dining table, paused and looked over. He seemed like he wanted to say, ‘Does he really remember nothing?’
“Yes, it’s rented.”
“Did the company keep paying for it?”
“Initially, President Jo paid for it… then it was taken as an advance. He insisted it had to be this house. Your brother.”
“President Jo?”
“……”
Yongjae suddenly shut his mouth, looking like he had made a slip of the tongue.
“That was a long time ago. The rent for this place was taken as an advance for about a year, but after the accident, the hospital bills and rent were deducted from your brother’s account.”
Switching the subject, Yongjae busied himself in the kitchen with nothing much to tidy up, muttering about needing to buy groceries since there was nothing in the fridge.
Based on a few days of observation, CEO Im of ENA seemed like an ordinary person. He wasn’t a tyrannical boss, but neither was he a saintly philanthropist. Basically, a decent non-harsh person who wouldn’t harm himself to benefit others—a typical person.
He wouldn’t ignore a life hanging by a thread, but he also wouldn’t wait paying the hospital bills and rent out of his own pocket for a comatose patient…
But in the entertainment industry, being that decent made him a recognized person.
Or maybe Choi Hongseo was so unlucky that he had only dealt with those trying to exploit him. Bitterly smiling, Choi Hongseo walked to the window.
Yoon Haean’s house, located on the corner of the building, had windows on both sides of the living room walls. Looking down at Nonhyeon-dong from the south-facing window, Choi Hongseo savored the warm sun heating his exposed skin, feeling that alive sensation.
“How much have I taken as an advance?”
“Sorry?”
Turning to the baffled Yongjae, Choi Hongseo rephrased.
“The money I borrowed from the company.”
“Ah, right… let me check with the finance team now.”
Yongjae, looking like he was expecting a scolding if he didn’t answer fast, hunched his large frame and grabbed his phone.
“You don’t need to do it right away. Do you roughly know?”
“Maybe… at least 50 to 60 million won…”
Even though they weren’t wealthy, some idols or actors insisted on living in Gangnam, in branded apartments or officetels. The more they had experienced star treatment, the stronger their insistence. Having tasted it, it becomes irreplaceable.
During his pre-debut time at the host bar, sometimes recognizable entertainers would show up as workers. They were washed-up celebrities who ended up there because they couldn’t repay the debt to their companies. Even then, they treated other workers like insects, behaving as if they were fundamentally different from them.
Most customers, even VIPs, hired them out of curiosity a few times at most. Unable to break their pride, many were complained about by customers and kicked out without settling the bill.
All of them believed, without exception, that their heyday would soon return. Where would they all be now, what would they be doing?
In a year, Yoon Haean might end up holding the card of a host bar madam.
A bitter smile spread across Choi Hongseo—or rather, Yoon Haean’s—face, reflected faintly in the glass window.
“Were you close with me, Yongjae?”
Yongjae looked at him with suspicion, as if wary that he might be pretending his memory loss.
“Rather than close, I just knew a lot about you.”
