Chapter 3
2022 – Independence
A small company with 7 actors and 5 staff members.
Leader Actors.
In 2025, Leader Actors was in crisis.
Their leading actor, Jang Chungwon, the company’s lifeline, had finished two consecutive dramas with ratings stuck in the 1% range and had lost all motivation, now showing up daily at fishing spots instead of sets. The staff could no longer handle the steady supply of fish arriving every week in ice boxes.
President Gong Seongbeom sighed.
“Suhan, don’t tell me it’s spicy stew again?”
“Just eat it, hyung.”
“Fuck, is this a management company or a fish market?”
Then Do Jaeyeon, who had started as a part-time worker and now handled all sorts of odd jobs at the company while endlessly monitoring dramas, unable to believe how ratings could repeatedly hit 1%, spoke up.
“Just eat it.”
“Hey, there’s a limit. Fish for dinner, stew for lunch—do you know how many meals this is? Guys, let’s order out. I’ll pay!”
As President Gong looked like he was about to explode, Do Jaeyeon fired back.
“Then what about the poor fish?!”
“Have some pity on me instead!”
As the two started fighting again, Vice President Gam Suhan, who was boiling the stew, spoke calmly.
“Jaeyeon, who’s twenty-six and eats whatever he’s given, is fine with it. And you’re almost forty and complaining about food?”
They kept fighting over the same thing every day until the doorbell rang. All three froze and stared at the intercom in panic.
Gong Seongbeom said to Do Jaeyeon:
“Hey, Jang Chungwon was here yesterday. Why is the bell ringing again… I can’t handle fish anymore. My wife thinks I’ve become a fish shop worker after the company collapsed.”
“I swear fish are showing up in my dreams now. Seriously, live fish…”
As the two men trembled, Gam Suhan checked the intercom while clicking his tongue.
“Eh?”
He tilted his head and opened the door.
Only after the door opened did Gong ask:
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Why did you open it then?”
“Because he looked handsome. I figured someone must’ve cast him already.”
“Damn it, that sounds way too realistic.”
“Hyung, don’t say ‘damn it,’ it might hurt the guy’s feelings.”
While the soft-hearted Gam Suhan was slowly untying his apron, footsteps echoed beyond the frosted glass door.
The fact that he was “handsome” had raised expectations. Gong rushed toward the automatic door.
When it opened, a young actor in worn clothes stood outside.
Both sides went silent.
Then the door closed on its own.
After it shut, all three turned to each other at once.
“Who was that? Who cast him?”
“Not me.”
“I was just a part-timer until recently.”
After all three denied it, Gam Suhan spoke calmly.
“Hyung, do you really think someone like that would come here if we didn’t cast him? That face gets handed hundreds of business cards a day.”
“Then why would someone that beautiful come here if nobody cast him?”
While they murmured in confusion, the young actor—unable to enter because facial recognition failed—knocked on the glass door.
“Hello?”
Only then did Gong rush over and open it again.
“Oh, sorry, sorry! Come in! Why are you all wet?”
“It suddenly started raining.”
“Right… that must be why…”
Lee Heeyoon had a face that could only be described as clean. Even soaked from the rain, he looked like he carried the scent of fabric softener.
A face that didn’t exist anywhere in the world, despite having a thousand variations.
That was the first impression all three founders of Leader Actors shared.
Since they couldn’t just leave him standing there, they gave him dry clothes lying around the office and sent him to shower first.
Afterward, they gathered and seriously tried to figure out why he had come.
Gong Seongbeom said solemnly:
“This is it. A destined connection from a past life.”
“Stop saying nonsense like you’re certain.”
Do Jaeyeon clicked his tongue, while Gam Suhan clapped.
“Is he your son, hyung?”
“Oh, maybe? He does kind of look like me.”
“He doesn’t look anything like you. Anyway, I told you to date more seriously.”
As the two spouted nonsense, Do Jaeyeon pressed his throbbing forehead.
Even he understood—there was no logical reason for this uncast “super rookie” to appear in a company this small except something absurd like fate.
Just as the “past life connection” theory was gaining traction, Lee Heeyoon came out after drying off.
Gong Seongbeom, shielding his eyes from the blinding presence, said:
“Alright, he’s definitely not my son. I still have dignity.”
Then he lowered his hand, thinking he must’ve seen wrong.
Under Heeyoon’s thin shirt—clearly not expensive—were visible signs of abuse.
“Hey… what happened to you?”
For the first time, Gong’s usually careless expression hardened.
Seeing the dead again wasn’t exactly comforting.
I looked between Gam Suhan and Do Jaeyeon, both of whom had already died in the timeline I came from.
Even if they had lived, we probably would never have met again anyway.
…That was a lie.
The moment the automatic door opened and those three idiots huddled together trying to figure out why I was here, I felt relieved.
I had never cried for anything in my life except acting. Not even at their funerals.
But now I felt like I might cry.
Maybe it was because this was a teenage body that couldn’t control emotions properly.
Even the familiar smell of fish felt nostalgic.
“Hey, what happened to your arm?”
As I drifted in nostalgia and didn’t respond, Gong raised his voice. I instinctively took a step back.
Gam Suhan immediately rushed over.
“No, no, we’re not angry. Heeyoon, right?”
I was shorter than Do Jaeyeon, who was 170 cm even now. He was staring at me like he’d been struck.
I was just as shocked.
The twenty-six-year-old version of Do Jaeyeon—ten years younger than I last saw him—looked like a kid now.
This kid had once stood in front of my abusive uncle’s family for me.
And the last thing I remembered him saying to me was:
“You’re an equality-loving bastard with no manners.”
…Honestly, I can’t even argue.
Who taught me that attitude? My uncle? The soft-hearted producer? No.
All of it came from this idiot Do Jaeyeon.
Annoying.
My uncle was the one who told me to swear if I was ever threatened.
Anyway, I had been equally disrespectful to everyone in this company.
So I guess I should just shut up.
Except when acting.
Gong Seongbeom said:
“Let’s go to the police right now.”
“I went already. My uncle is a cop. It’s pointless.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?! You’re beaten this badly!”
“I didn’t come here asking for help with that.”
I was getting irritated now.
“I came here for the agency.”
“Now isn’t the time for work—”
“I’m really good at acting.”
…Fuck.
Shut up, Heeyoon.
The three of them stared at me.
Gong and Do Jaeyeon frowned, while Gam Suhan looked away, opening a window to get rid of the fish smell.
I knew Gam Suhan. He was definitely holding back tears.
He was like an emotional barometer.
That’s why reading scripts with him was useful.
When I couldn’t tell what was sad, he would cry, and I could calibrate the emotional tone.
Do Jaeyeon liked that sensitivity.
I had tried to forget, but apparently the only good memories I had were with these three.
From the smallest trivial moments to successes and failures—I remembered everything.
That was the curse of being an actor.
Too many lives, too many scripts, too many memories.
None of it faded easily.
Gong Seongbeom forced himself to stay calm.
“Alright. You’re the victim, so you’re not thinking straight. We’ll handle it. First, let’s go to a shelter or—”
“Hyung.”
Gam Suhan, eyes already watery as expected, turned around.
“He said he came here looking for an agency.”
“Look at his body! This isn’t the time to work!”
“Do you really think he doesn’t know what he needs better than us? Let’s sit him down and see his acting first. He says he’s good.”
Being kind is hard.
Being kind in the entertainment industry is even harder.
Gam Suhan was that kind of person.
That’s why he immediately understood what I needed.
I wondered why someone like him died so early.
Now that I think about it, something doesn’t add up.
A company can fail, sure.
But how did two founders die and one go missing?
And not just them—Jang Chungwon, one of the original members, also died shortly after I left.
…This is getting strange.
While I was lost in thought, I heard Gong Seongbeom say:
“…Alright. But let’s take a picture of this. We need evidence.”
“Yes.”
That was actually a good idea.
Evidence for the future.
