TRGCF 22🔐

Chapter 22

Seeing that look on Kwon Doo-il’s face made the decision easy.

“If you go, hyung, I’m coming with you.”
“What?”
“You have to take me, right? You’ll never find a manager who works as well as I do!”
“Go where, exactly…?”
“You still haven’t renewed your contract, have you?”

Originally, they were supposed to renew his contract and announce it to the press before the end of this short-drama shoot. But then Doo-il suddenly said he needed time to think. The company president had been pestering him nonstop, demanding to know what the problem was.

Knowing that, Doo-il avoided his eyes.

“I can see it too, you know. That Soo-ah kid—she’s going to be a big deal someday.”
“She already is.”
“Ha! No matter how talented someone is, it means nothing if the public doesn’t notice. In this business, even genius gets buried without luck. But you— you want to be that kid’s luck, don’t you?”

Doo-il stayed silent.

“And, well… I figured I might as well hitch my spoon onto that luck, too. Oh, and Ye-seon and Min-joon said they’re in as well.”
“What, those two?”

At the mention of his stylist and the road manager who sometimes drove in Won-seok’s place, Doo-il blinked in surprise.

Won-seok made a peace sign and struck a silly pose with it under his chin.

“I gave them a little heads-up, and they said they’d join right away. You’re just that lucky, hyung. Though, of course, your number-one piece of luck is me.”
“That’s—”
“Wait, correction! Number one is your wife! I’m number two!”

They clinked a soju glass and a soda cup together. Won-seok was all grins, and even Doo-il couldn’t help laughing. The whole thing was absurd, but somehow, his heart felt lighter.

These were people who trusted him enough to follow him. He didn’t want to let them down.

“Alright then… shall we do it?”
“Let’s. But you know the most important thing is what Soo-ah wants, right?”
“Of course. Persuasion is my specialty.”

Seeing Doo-il grinning with a tipsy flush, Won-seok looked away, smirking.

Yeah right. ‘Persuasion’? More like intimidation…

Manager Lee Won-seok had called my mom. He wanted to know if we could come meet Kwon Doo-il for a bit.

So Mom and I ended up visiting Doo-il’s home.

“Wow, he really lives in a nice apartment…”

The place Won-seok dropped us off at was a luxury high-rise complex.

Pretending not to hear Mom’s murmured comment, Won-seok politely escorted us all the way to Doo-il’s door.

“Hyung, hyung-soo-nim! Your guests are here!”

When we stepped through the front door, three large figures were waiting for us in the entryway.

“Welcome! Thanks for coming, Soo-ah.”

One was the ever-cheerful Doo-il. The other two were…

“Honey! You didn’t tell me she was this tiny and adorable!”
“She’s really my age?!”

It was his wife, Ji Soo-bin, and their son, Kwon Jin-ho—both frozen in shock, just like Doo-il had been the first time he met me.

Their reaction brought back the exact same thought I’d had when I first saw this family in my previous life:

Are we even the same species?

Back then, I’d been twelve—two years older than now—and only just average height for my age. But standing before Doo-il, who was over 190 cm tall, Ji Soo-bin at 178 cm, and their son Jin-ho—well, I felt like a speck of dust.

The funny part was, they were clearly thinking the same thing.

“Are you… sick or something?”

While Soo-bin fled to the kitchen saying she’d start on dinner, Doo-il followed to help.
Left at the table, Jin-ho stared at me seriously.

“So… is that why you can’t eat?”
“No, I eat just fine.”
“Then why are you so small?”
“Do you ask that to all your shorter classmates?”
“Yeah. But they never answer me…”

Well, of course they didn’t. Even with his innocent expression, Jin-ho looked exactly like his father—people probably thought he was picking a fight. It was a miracle he wasn’t misunderstood as a bully.

I turned to Won-seok, who was watching nervously.

“Is he really ten years old? Not fourteen?”
“Hey! I am ten!”

Jin-ho’s face turned red as he snapped back. Ah yes, the kid’s complex about his grown-up looks—still there, even now.

“Really? You’re just so big, I wasn’t sure. No one’s ever told you that before?”
“Some adults have… wait, do I really look old?”
“Not old—mature. That’s a good thing.”
“Really?”

His eyes lit up. The sight brought back the memory of that same boy crying in despair after the accident in my past life.

Not this time, I promised silently. This time, things will be different.

I kept chatting lightly, and soon Doo-il and Soo-bin came out carrying dishes.
The huge table filled up fast—and Mom’s eyes went wide.

“Um, Mr. Kwon? Isn’t this… a bit too much food?”
“Hahaha! There are six of us—this much is nothing!”

As Doo-il proudly insisted it was fine, Won-seok leaned in to whisper with a saintly expression.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. He does know how normal portions work. He’s just happy you came, so he went overboard. And with those two around, nothing ever goes to waste anyway.”

But then he had to rush over and stop Soo-bin from piling a mountain of rice into my bowl.

“Why! The poor child’s all skin and bones—she needs to eat!”
“Ma’am, you’ll pop the kid’s stomach! Your serving size is an adult’s soup bowl! Let me handle it.”

“Won-seok… that’s actually a side-dish bowl.”
“Eh? No way! Look at that adorable design and tiny size—it’s clearly a kid’s rice bowl!”
“That’s the baby bowl we used for Jin-ho’s baby food. We use it for banchan now.”

Won-seok frowned at the bowl that was clearly meant for a seven-year-old, then sighed and gave up.

No, don’t give up, I thought. You can do this.

It’s fine to leave leftovers, but it’s nicer to finish what’s served—so just serve a little.

Thankfully, he didn’t give up. He snatched the rice paddle from Soo-bin’s hand, scooped two-thirds of the rice back into the cooker, and triumphantly carried the smaller bowls back to the table.

Relieved, I gave him a discreet thumbs-up.

“I wanted to make even more, but Won-seok stopped me. I hope you enjoy the food.”
“Thank you—it already looks amazing. We’ll eat well.”
“Thank you for the meal!”
“Let’s eat!”

The mothers smiled shyly at each other, and dinner began.

There were more than ten side dishes, plus braised short ribs, japchae, and beef soup.
Each bite brought back a wave of nostalgia.

This moment, this warmth—it all felt so familiar.

In my previous life, we’d only had dinners like this twice.
Once, when I first signed with Doo-il’s agency.
And again, after Mom’s funeral.

“Soo-ah, try this—it’s delicious.”
“What kind of side dish do you like best? I’ll pack some for you to take home.”

Mom added japchae to my bowl, and Soo-bin smiled kindly beside her.

“Everything’s so good, I want to take it all! But if I did, you wouldn’t have anything left, so it’s okay.”

This time, I thought, we should have dinners like this more often.

“This is rigged!”

Oh Na-yoon collapsed to the ground, smacking the floor as raw egg dripped down her hair.
Her castmates stood around her, laughing hysterically.

It was obvious who’d lost the penalty game.

“Today’s your day, Na-yoon! The Variety Gods have blessed you!”
“Three raw eggs in a row? That’s not bad luck, that’s destiny!”
“Lucky girl!”
“LUCKY?!”

She protested tearfully, but deep down, Na-yoon knew they were right.

Out of a full carton of boiled eggs with only one raw egg hidden inside—she’d picked it three times in a row!
And the third round? She’d even gone first.
That’s a one-in-thirty chance—almost divine misfortune.

Still, the punishment was not something to laugh about.

“I said I don’t want to bungee jump!”

She hated the idea of jumping off anything, but what she hated more was having to clear her schedule just to drive all the way to Gangwon Province to do it.

Her cruel castmates and evil producers, however, ignored her cries completely.

“Come on, Na-yoon, just accept your fate.”
“Yeah, it’s destiny~ The Variety Gods have spoken!”

Pouting, Na-yoon dragged herself up. Fine. Enough footage for laughs—time to move on.

But of course, the world’s most annoying PD just had to speak up.

“Today’s concept is ‘The Game of Luck,’ right? Well, three penalties in a row could be seen as extreme luck, don’t you think?”
“Yes!!”

“Heh, look how desperate she sounds.”

“So, we prepared a special mission just for this situation!”

In short, if she drew a mission slip and completed the task written on it, she’d be exempted from the penalty.

The other members teased her, calling it favoritism, but Na-yoon jumped at the offer.
Her hands trembled as she pulled a slip of paper from the mission box.

“‘Call the youngest person in your contacts and do a phone quiz’…?”