APCA 05

Chapter 5

“Hello?”

— Are you outside? Can you talk right now?

Haerin pulled the phone from her ear to check the time.
<Serenade> Café would’ve just closed for the night.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m on my way home. You done for the day?”

— Hey. I swear our café was cursed today.

Haerin’s steps froze.

“…Why?”

— Two drunk guys came in, right? Practically at closing, asking for two coffees. I’d already cleaned the machine.

Minjoo’s voice came through hot with frustration.

— Still, a customer’s a customer, so I made them. Then one of the drunks spilled it the moment he got the cup.

“Wow.”

— Yeah, but I let that go. People make mistakes when they’re drunk, right? But then the guy next to him goes, ‘let’s just leave, this girl will clean it up.’

“…Wow.”

— And you know what else he said?

On the other end, Minjoo let out an exasperated sigh.

— He wanted a refund. Said he couldn’t drink the coffee.

“Please tell me that’s a lie. Please tell me you’re lying.”

— Feels like everyone’s gone insane. I can’t run this business. I thought maybe we could ride some luck off Shin Ihyun showing up, but nope.

The name dropped like a stone. Haerin narrowed her eyes.

“…What luck?”

— I mean, he was kind of rude, but still… someone like that walking into our café? It’s something. Or maybe today’s just a magnet for jerks.

“Yeah, sounds like it. That’s what I think too…”

— Hey. Something happened to you, didn’t it.

“What?”

Haerin blinked, caught off guard.

— Your voice has no strength. You’re out of breath, too. You ran after something, didn’t you?

Haerin stalled, then forced a laugh.

She had tried her best to steady her breathing before answering, but apparently it hadn’t worked.

“No, really, it’s nothing. I’ll be home soon. I’ll call you when I get in.”

— You’re sure? Fine. Hurry back, it’s freezing out there.

The line clicked off. Haerin sighed in relief.

Normally, she and Minjoo would have gone on a rant together—bad customers, dumb situations, maybe even that screenplay drama.
But given the particular someone involved tonight… she just didn’t feel like it.

It’s not like what he said was wrong. And it’s not like I don’t understand, either.

By the time she’d run along the riverside near her apartment, her frustration had simmered down, if only slightly.
Running when upset—it was her long-time coping habit, just like Minjoo said.

I guess things won’t be the same with Youngseo for a while.

Haerin sighed, tying up her hair that had come loose from running.

“…What else can I do.”

Just like failing auditions one after another, this was just another thing to add to the pile.

Maybe I should work at the café more. Minjoo’s struggling to find extra help anyway.

And if even Youngseo, of all people, couldn’t bring herself to work with her…
Maybe it really was time to let go of this side of things.

“…Guess I’ll just go home.”

She was trudging along the riverbank when her phone buzzed, vibrating insistently in her pocket.

‘Maybe Minjoo again?’

But the screen showed an unknown number.

“……”

Should she pick up?

On a day like this, the last thing she wanted was some random call from a stranger.

After a moment of hesitation, Haerin answered.

“Hello?”

— Is this Yoo Haerin?

“…Who’s calling?”

— Ah, hello. Sorry to bother you so late. I’m Kim Sungjae, a PD with STB.

“…What?”

Haerin stifled a laugh.

A PD? Yeah, right.

Clearly a prank call. Honestly, it was the perfect ridiculous ending to a truly miserable day.

I’m going to tell Minjoo the second I get home. Today has been absolutely cursed.

Haerin was about to hang up without another word—then paused.

Three disasters already tonight. If she counted, that was like ordering chicken and only getting pickled radish, three times over.
She couldn’t resist saying at least something back.

“…You’re a PD, huh?”

— Yes, that’s right. Is this a bad time to talk?

“Wow, you must have a lot of free time.”

— …Sorry?

“Don’t waste it making prank calls. If it were me, I’d be brushing my teeth and going to bed instead of harassing strangers.”

Normally, during the peak of the scandal days, she would’ve ignored calls like this entirely.
Even responding could become gossip fodder.

But now… I’m already halfway to giving up. What does it matter if I snap back a little?

She was about to hang up when the voice on the line turned desperate.

— No, no! Yoo Haerin, wait! I really am a PD!

“…?”

— I startled you calling out of the blue, didn’t I? I’m sorry. Please, just hold on—I’ll send proof by text right now.

A notification buzzed. Haerin glanced at her phone.

It was a photo of an STB entry pass.
Her face reflected faintly in the smooth surface of the ID badge.

“…This… is real?”

Haerin froze.

Definitely not a fake.

But why would a broadcast PD be calling her? She wasn’t in any position to get such a call anymore.

“…I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t believe you were real.”

— No worries. I should’ve explained properly in a message first, but it was urgent, and I rushed. I’m just glad we cleared the misunderstanding.

“…How did you even get my number?”

— Remember when you worked with Kim Youngsun? I did a program with her. I asked her, hoping it wouldn’t be too much trouble.

Then Sungjae added gently:

— There was no other way to reach you. No agency, no management now.

“…Right. That’s true.”

Haerin gave a small, awkward laugh.

“So… why are you calling me?”

Of all people, why would this famous PD—whose variety shows went viral, even overseas—want anything with her?

There was a pause, then:

— Haerin, would you be interested in doing variety shows?

“…Excuse me?”

— We’re preparing a new program at STB. A 12-episode series called Self-Made Cooking King. And I’d like you to be part of it.

Not long ago, one of Sungjae’s shows had blown up online.

— Hey! The lunchbox… where’s the gold? The lunchbox is empty!
— Sorry, hyung. I sold it all.

A golden lunchbox chase. Whoever held onto the box won—except when they finally opened it, the gold was gone.

The clip had gone viral, impossible to script, hilarious chaos.
From Sungjae’s Chase the Lunchbox series.

He’d combined cooking competition with chase game mechanics—and Haerin remembered watching it herself.

The show had been a hit overseas, too. Everyone expected Sungjae’s next project to be massive.

…So why me?

It didn’t make sense.

Even during her active years, she’d barely touched variety shows.
A couple guest appearances, maybe. Never as a main cast.

“…I really appreciate the offer, but… why me?”

— Because you’re exactly the character we need. I heard you’re pretty into cooking, too.

“…Character?”

There was a pause. Sungjae cleared his throat.

— Please take this the right way. It’s meant positively. We’re looking for someone bold, witty, someone who speaks her mind. A character who feels like she could really succeed from the ground up.

Haerin’s brows arched.

Bold. Witty. Speaks her mind.

“…PD-nim, you do know about my scandal, right?”

— Yes, yes. And that’s why I’m asking if you’d still consider it. For us, it’s not a problem. That’s why I called. What about a meeting first?

Haerin opened and closed her fists, heart hammering.

Doubt aside, this was the first casting offer she’d had in two years.

“…Could I give you an answer after the meeting?”

Sungjae’s worried tone brightened immediately.

— Of course! Absolutely! Tomorrow’s Saturday—would you be free in the afternoon? Say, 2 PM?

“Yes. That works… I’ll see you then.”

— Thank you! Come to STB headquarters, I’ll text you the details. See you tomorrow!

The whirlwind offer ended as suddenly as it began. Haerin lowered her phone, stunned.

If today’s horoscope was right about finding a diamond after falling flat on her face… this must have been it.

“…What is happening.”

Unexpected, absurd, but undeniably good news.

Too good, almost.