MHD - 1

Her trembling fingers slowly slid over the keyboard.

‘Seo Hee-soo.’

It only takes a few seconds to type those three characters. But the hesitant fingers moved sluggishly.

Hee-soo managed to type just the character ‘Seo’ into the search bar and repeated her name in her head several times. It felt as if it were someone else’s name, as if it were a completely unfamiliar name.

She had already imagined typing it out dozens of times in her mind, but her fingers continued to shake for a long time.

Seo Hee-soo, get it together. You can’t keep avoiding this forever. You have to leave this room.

She had already encouraged herself thousands of times.

Closing her eyes tightly before opening them again, Hee-soo curled her lips, took a deep breath, and cast her gaze to the wall across from her desk. The familiar scenery filled her eyes.

“Newcomer of the Year”

“Best Actress at the Baegak Film Festival”

“BBS Acting Awards”

“Cheongjo Arts Awards Best Acting”

The wall was covered with various posters from movies and dramas. Below them, rows of trophies were neatly lined up.

These were the traces of the time when the world praised her.

But now...

After exhaling deeply, Hee-soo finally finished typing her name.

“Seo Hee-soo”

And pressed enter.

As she slowly opened her eyes, which had been tightly shut, her profile appeared on the search page.

The confident gaze of Seo Hee-soo from her prime felt unfamiliar.

Staring at the monitor with a complicated heart, Hee-soo moved her fingers again and clicked on the entertainment news section.

“Seo Hee-soo, consecutive no-shows at filming sites. Production team, no longer able to cover for her”

“It’s said to be caused by severe panic disorder... Fans are furious”

“Unprecedented event, lead actress replaced in a drama that was airing with high ratings”

Most of the articles were from three years ago. Most were negative, and there hadn’t been any recent articles, as if time had stopped.

There was a time when nothing could be discussed without mentioning Seo Hee-soo.

What Seo Hee-soo wore, what makeup she used, where she lived.

Everything about her was a product, and she was always in the spotlight. And it seemed as though it would last forever.

With her eyes half open and a cloudy gaze, Hee-soo skimmed through the list, and after confirming there were no new updates, she closed her eyes again.

For the past three years, she had been hiding from the public, burying her existence.

As much as the time had passed locked in this room, the people of South Korea had begun to forget Seo Hee-soo.

“Get a grip. Are you really just going to sit around wasting money like this?”

The reprimands from her agency’s CEO, Cha Joo-won, echoed in her mind, tightening her chest. Suddenly, her breath became shallow, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest, as if she had a collapsed lung.

Hee-soo gripped her chest, gasping for air as she tried to steady her breathing.

Today was the ‘promised day’ that Cha Joo-won had spoken of. She had declined it dozens of times, using her illness as an excuse.

For a long time, CEO Cha had been coaxing and persuading her, but he no longer beat around the bush.

“What are you doing now? You don’t want to act? Then at least sell your smile.”

The last time he visited, his words were no longer persuasive, but a threat.

Zing─ Zing─

The phone next to the laptop vibrated. Hee-soo didn’t even need to look at it to know who it was, so she just scowled and didn’t check the caller.

“You’ve got an offer to appear. It’s not confirmed yet, but since you’ve been on a long break, they want you to audition. You have to do it. I can’t cover for your panic disorder anymore.”

A few weeks ago, Cha Joo-won had brought Hee-soo an opportunity.

However, the offer was strange.

It wasn’t for a lead role, but a supporting role, which wasn’t important.

She accepted it with gratitude, but the production company said the audition would be held at a villa in Namyangju.

They told her to dress well, as the role she’d be playing had a sexy concept.

An audition late at night. A villa in Namyangju. And the production company, KY Entertainment.

It turned out that KY Entertainment had a bad reputation. Cha Joo-won, knowing this, still insisted that Hee-soo go without question.

“This audition being at a drinking party, something’s wrong. This is not a normal audition!”

“What do you know? A big player from the movie production company specifically requested you. You should consider yourself lucky. Do you think you have a choice right now?”

How much time passed? The caller didn’t give up. The person calling and the person receiving the call were both stubborn, and the vibrating sound filled the room.

Zing.

The vibrating phone loudly thudded against the wooden table. The noise from the phone seemed like an oppressive sound, suffocating her.

But avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything.

Hee-soo sighed and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

[Seo Hee-soo!]

The moment the call connected, Cha Joo-won shouted at her. It was hard to tell if he was calling her name or yelling at her. She could already picture his face even without seeing it.

He was definitely frowning deeply. After the call, he’d probably throw the phone again.

Hee-soo absentmindedly held the phone, lost in thought, when another loud voice came through the receiver.

[Are you listening?]

“Yes, I’m listening.”

Hee-soo wasn’t really listening, but she said she was.

She knew very well that, regardless of her reaction, Cha Joo-won would come to pick her up, and he’d force her out of the house if necessary.

She had already exhausted all her excuses, and even if she died tonight, Cha Joo-won wouldn’t bat an eye.

So, she had reached a state of resignation.

That’s why, for the first time in three years, she searched her own name.

Before being dragged out of the house, she needed to acknowledge the reality. She had to realize that she wasn’t the Seo Hee-soo from three years ago anymore.

[I’m leaving now. I have a hair appointment at 6, so be ready.]

“CEO, I’m…”

[Cut it out.]

His sharp response cut her off like a knife. The harsh tone of his voice made it hard for her to say anything in return.

Click.

Without even giving her a chance to react to his cold words, the call was abruptly ended.

The silent cabin filled with the sound of the aircraft cutting through the atmosphere. A man quietly raised his hand.

One of the few passengers in first class signaled, and the attendant quickly approached the man.

“Sir.”

When the flight attendant softly greeted him, the man smiled gently. Then, in a deep, resonant tone, his voice flowed from his firm lips as though it was soaking the air around him.

“I’d like another glass of wine. Is that possible?”

“It should still be possible.”

The foreign flight attendant’s face reddened slightly. Although it was a short sentence, his fluent, polite British accent captured her attention.

The man had a captivating face, one that drew people in with just a glance. His sharp nose and well-defined jawline made it hard to look away.

“How much longer until we land?”

“….”

The flight attendant, momentarily distracted, finally snapped back to attention when the man gave a subtle glance.

“About an hour and a half.”

“Thank you.”

The man sipped the wine poured by the attendant and gazed out the window.

Nearly ten years of traveling abroad. He had visited Korea often during that time, but this trip was different. It was the final return home after a long period abroad.

When he thought of Korea, one name always came to mind. Seo Hee-soo.

When was the last time he saw her name in the entertainment section?

For a long time—no, for quite some time—just thinking about the name Seo Hee-soo was enough to tear at his heart with painful memories.

“I hope she’s doing well. Seo Hee-soo.”

As he retraced his faint memories, the man closed his eyes as the aircraft began its descent.

“Executive Director Lee Jae-hyuk!”

As soon as he entered the arrivals hall, a familiar face waved at him. It was Oh Byung-wook, his secretary, who had arrived in Korea a few days earlier.

Jae-hyuk handed him the travel-sized suitcase he was carrying and followed him.

His luggage was surprisingly light for the length of his stay.

“You’re still the same. I never thought you’d really come with just one bag.”

“Always the same.”

Jae-hyuk, sitting in the backseat of the car, casually replied and turned on his phone. The most recent messages were from just a few minutes ago.

“Jae-hyuk, when you arrive, come straight to the Namyangju villa. We’ve prepared a welcome party.”

A welcome party? He knew I hated those kinds of things.

The message was from Baek Dong-hwan, a friend Jae-hyuk had known since childhood.

“Are you going home?”

Just as he was about to answer “yes,” another message from Baek Dong-hwan came through.

“You need to manage your connections. Okay?”

The accompanying photo showed Dong-hwan and some long-time friends.

“Let’s go to Namyangju.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“How could I be tired?”

It had already been three years since Jae-hyuk’s father, Lee Jeong-cheol, the chairman of the Kanglim Group, passed away.

His mother, who had quickly taken charge of the group after his father’s death, had urged Jae-hyuk to return. It was a request to help strengthen her position in the corporate power struggle that had begun after his father’s death.

Jae-hyuk was now set to take charge of the Kanglim Group alongside his mother, the current chairwoman, Yeon Ji-sun. Naturally, a tight schedule awaited him.

Many of the executives at the group had known Jae-hyuk since he was a child.

He was given the significant responsibility of leading the large ship that was Kanglim, and he would have to navigate the older, more experienced members who saw him as nothing more than a young upstart. Rest would only come on the day of his return to Korea.

“I prefer to get the tasks I don’t want to do out of the way first,” he thought.

After all, he would have to face those friends sooner or later, and this event, with the third-generation heirs of the top 10 chaebols, was one he couldn’t avoid. Fortunately, the time difference provided a good excuse. As long as he made a brief appearance, he didn’t have to stay long.

‘Namyangju villa…’

Baek Dong-hwan’s Namyangju villa was a well-known spot among those in the know. The secret space beneath the villa, which doubled as a wine cellar, was a place where all sorts of shady activities took place—rumors that only journalists had heard. It was Dong-hwan’s hidden hideaway.

Given Dong-hwan’s personality, Jae-hyuk doubted that this would be a typical welcome party, and he wasn’t thrilled about it. His gut feeling proved to be right.

As he arrived at the villa and descended the stairs to the basement, he could hear the sounds of a man and a woman arguing.

Slap.

It was unmistakably the sound of a slap—a sharp, echoing sound that could only come from a slap across the cheek.

Finally, as he entered the basement, he saw Baek Dong-hwan holding his cheek, with his back turned to a woman who stood there.