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Episode 4
In the end, she failed to achieve her original goal and ended up seeing wasting my time..
And as expected, she couldn’t sleep a wink that night.
Dasom realized something anew.
She had thought she’d forgotten him, but that first love—like a childhood fever—was still stubbornly stuck somewhere in a corner of her heart.
And the moment she saw him again, that scar screamed out. I’m right here.
“Then why did you have to become even better looking?”
She’d seen photos of him here and there in articles from time to time, but seeing him in person was different.
In fact, Han-gyeol was the type that didn’t photograph well at all. His physique, too—the kind that only made your heart flutter when seen in person.
And what about those sweet words that would casually slip out, then suddenly strike deep when least expected? Isn’t it more thrilling when someone who doesn’t seem caring suddenly shows consideration…?
“That guy, he was like that in college too.”
Han-gyeol would act as if he were the human embodiment of sandpaper—all rough and prickly—then suddenly show unexpected kindness or thoughtfulness, leaving people completely disoriented.
Back then, Dasom felt like a racehorse. Humiliated and resentful under the unrelenting lash, yet addicted to the occasional sugar cube, ultimately running endlessly.
And it seemed that race still hadn’t ended.
“Ugh, you guilty man.”
Blaming Han-gyeol for no good reason, Dasom shook her head.
So what? Was she trying to do something about Han-gyeol now, after all this time? A gloomy sense of futility welled up inside her.
[ ‘Busan → Venice → Toronto’ Next is Cannes? Why Film Director Han-gyeol Shines ]
An article with that headline was displayed on Dasom’s laptop. It was about the successes Han-gyeol had achieved so far.
Including a near-certain prediction that his next film, currently in post-production, Behind, would make it to Cannes.
Everyone unanimously spoke of it as a foregone success.
Those who had been so harsh with Dasom were all kind to Han-gyeol. That kept making her feel diminished.
See, Han-gyeol and I are completely different people. And in the meantime, we’ve only grown further apart.
“So, to someone like that, there’s no way I could ever—”
Back in university, they were both students with similar status, so she could at least envy him. Now, she felt she wouldn’t even dare to do that.
Dasom glanced at the article, then bitterly closed the window.
It was time to stop uselessly dwelling and focus on what she needed to do.
Dasom opened the Word program she had minimized. The screen still showed not a single word written.
“I got praised yesterday, so I thought maybe today I could write at least one letter…”
But as if mocking her, she was still stuck in place. Dasom sighed and tapped the table restlessly.
How many months has it been now?
Dasom slowly traced back her memories.
After graduating college, Dasom happened to submit a script to a drama competition, and luckily, it was selected, leading to her debut.
And that drama achieved what was, for a rookie writer’s debut, an unprecedented success—what you’d call a massive hit.
[Chae Da-som is a born storyteller. How will her sparkling ideas captivate us next?]
She had always wanted to write, but subconsciously believed she would never receive praise for her writing.
But the success and acclaim she gained back then intoxicated Dasom completely.
I can do it too. And I want to receive praise again, soon.
Buoyed by such thoughts, she released her next work.
Her follow-up didn’t achieve the same explosive success as her debut, but it still garnered respectable results.
It was a work occasionally praised as a ‘well-made drama.’
But for Dasom, who had already tasted the thrill of a massive hit, it felt insufficient. More, I can receive more praise.
I’ll do better next time.
Driven by impatience, Dasom immediately began writing her third work.
By then, the title “Trustworthy Chae Dasom” had become quite well-known, and she even had production companies that believed in her.
With their support, she secured substantial investment and cast famous actors.
Dasom considered this work her ambitious masterpiece. She expected it to be as huge a hit as her debut.
But contrary to her expectations, Da-som’s third drama was a complete and utter failure.
Ratings lingered in single digits, and harsh criticism poured in from all sides. To the point where she simply couldn’t bear it.
To the point where it completely drained Dasom of any will to write.
That was how her long, brutal slump began.
“Pathetic.”
Mocking her own unimpressive past with a single word, Dasom closed her laptop and stood up.
To think that a single compliment from a senior from university would be enough to pull her out of this months-long slump—even she found it laughable.
She felt she needed to cool her excited heart a little. Dasom gathered her clothes and put them on.
“Autumn’s almost over, huh.”
Just a while ago, the leaves had been tinged with yellow, but now they had all fallen, preparing for winter.
Dasom bought a pack of soju from the convenience store and sat at an outdoor table.
It was already close to 10 PM, and with the cold wind blowing fiercely, there was hardly anyone around.
“It is a bit cold.”
Grumbling to herself, she pulled up her jacket zipper and pop, stuck the straw into the soju pack. And just as she was blankly sipping at it—
A sleek car stopped in front of Dasom.
Dasom blinked. A Ben X Class, no less… That car looked strangely familiar—
“Oh! This car!”
It was Han-gyeol’s imported car—the one their classmates and seniors used to sing about, wishing they could ride in just once, back in college.
The specific model might be different, but seeing that emblem again after so long was, in its own way, nostalgic.
“Chae Da-som, what are you doing there?”
The window whirred down, revealing the face of the owner, as sleek as the car itself. Dasom, who had been shifting excitedly in her seat, held up the soju pack toward him.
“I’ll make a toast to your car, Senior. Ben X, yeah!”
“Ha…”
Han-gyeol let out a short sigh and rolled up the window. As his face disappeared behind the dark glass, Dasom felt a strange pang of regret and straightened her leaning posture.
But shortly after, Han-gyeol, having parked the car somewhere, sat down across from her. Dasom’s eyes went round.
His attire—a coat that looked expensive—seemed almost too fancy for a mere plastic chair, yet at the same time, it oddly suited him.
Dasom stole glances at him and spoke.
“Looks like you went somewhere fancy to eat, Senior.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, your outfit… Did you perhaps come back from Cannes?”
As if she found her own joke absolutely hilarious, Dasom burst into laughter. Han-gyeol, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow.
He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. Dasom, pretending not to notice his gaze, just kept sipping her soju from across the table.
“They say when your next film comes out, you’re definitely going to Cannes.”
Dasom said, taking her mouth off the straw. Han-gyeol, who had been almost glaring at her moist lips, finally snapped back to reality.
So that’s why she suddenly brought up Cannes.
“Does the article say that?”
“It was practically a dragon’s ode to your prowess. Or maybe a praise-ode…”
Dasom chuckled softly and swept back her stray hair.
“Senior… this must be your true calling. You never fail.”
“Is that so.”
“I’m so jealous. Ah, I can’t even say that anymore. Actually, I feel like I can’t even speak to you anymore.”
At Da-som’s words, Han-gyeol abruptly lifted his head. He kept his mouth shut for a long time, as if contemplating his response, then finally muttered.
“It just… turned out this way.”
“Come on, Cannes isn’t somewhere you just happen to end up.”
Han-gyeol let out a low sigh at Da-som’s remark. Unfazed, Dasom raised her soju pack.
“Well then, a toast to your award wins, Senior!”
“I haven’t won yet.”
“But you’ve won awards before, haven’t you? It’s belated, but a celebration drink!”
Beaming, Dasom pushed the straw-poked soju pack toward his lips. It was the very straw she had been vigorously sipping from just moments ago.
Han-gyeol briefly glanced down at the straw. Then raised his eyes back to Dasom.
When he didn’t take the straw, Da-som’s face fell with disappointment.
“Right. Senior never eats or drinks after someone else.”
Muttering sullenly with a pout, Da-som tried to pull her hand back.
But at that moment—
Han-gyeol’s hand caught her wrist.
