MHD - 57

Chapter 57: Explosion

“What?”

“So you used me? You have some weird fetish for getting hit?”

“…Don’t jump to strange conclusions.”

Hee-soo turned her attention back to the script, hoping to end the conversation. But Jin Yuna wasn’t ready to let it go and pressed further.

“Do you still have panic attacks?”

It was a rude question delivered in an even ruder tone.

Hee-soo’s brow furrowed involuntarily. Instead of answering, she let out a short sigh and tried to walk away. However, Yuna grabbed her shoulder and aggressively demanded again.

“Hey! When someone asks you something, shouldn’t you at least answer?”

Looking at Yuna raising her voice, Hee-soo told herself to stay calm—but as usual, she couldn’t hold back.

“…No. And why are you speaking to me so casually?”

Her icy retort only fueled Yuna’s defiance.

“Well, I am your senior, so doesn’t that give me the right to speak informally first?”

“Senior? I only consider people I respect as seniors. I’ve never thought of you that way, so show some manners.”

“You little—!”

As Yuna raised her hand, Hee-soo closed her eyes, thinking, What’s one more slap? But just then, Yoon-seok rushed over, calling out to her.

“Nuna! Did you see what just popped up online?”

At Yoon-seok’s words, Hee-soo quickly picked up her phone.

The moment she accessed the portal site, headlines related to her filled the screen.

“Your mom is going on TV! Have you heard anything about this?”

Hee-soo could only shake her head silently, unable to respond. Yoon-seok handed her the phone, showing her the article.

“Seo Hee-soo’s Mother Makes First TV Appearance! Revealing Everything Unknown About Seo Hee-soo.”

Reading the headline, Hee-soo let out a hollow laugh.

“So this is why it’s been quiet lately.”

Though there had been minor news about her comeback, it hadn’t gained much traction—largely because Kang Jaemin had worked hard to keep the film production out of the spotlight. He didn’t want unnecessary scandals or distractions and saw no benefit in exposing the set to the public.

The set was completely off-limits to the press, and all staff phones were collected before filming began.

Yet somehow, her family had found out about her return. It felt like her mother—or rather, her uncle and aunt—were frantically signaling for money to silence them once again.

“Ha…”

Her hand holding the phone trembled uncontrollably. Though they hadn’t given birth to her, she had once believed they cared for her in their own way. Even though she’d grown up being pushed aside, she had clung to the idea of family.

Why does everyone seem desperate to exploit me?

“Nuna.”

Yoon-seok, who had just finished a call, cautiously spoke up.

“The office called. They said they’ll try to stop it from spreading further and lodge a complaint with the broadcasting station. Since it’s just a preview, the agency will review the content and footage before it airs.”

“Really?”

This swift response from the agency was unusual. Sensing Hee-soo’s confusion, Yoon-seok added,

“Remember the dedicated team assigned to you after we secured the investment? They’re handling this quickly. They said to focus on filming for now… Nuna?”

Before Yoon-seok could finish, Hee-soo picked up her phone. If there was such a thing as a breaking point in life, this was it.

Frustration, anger, and helplessness swirled together, making her want to lash out at someone—anyone—with whatever came to mind. She couldn’t suppress the churning in her chest any longer.

Biting her lip and forcing down her emotions, she muttered,

“I’ll make the call myself.”

“Nuna, are you sure? Shouldn’t we just let the team handle it…?”

Hee-soo’s parents had caused trouble countless times before. Yoon-seok, who had been her road manager since her debut, knew her situation well.

Even when the agency intervened, it often ended with money being paid to silence them—and that debt would inevitably circle back to Hee-soo, creating yet another unfair clause in her contract.

Ignoring Yoon-seok’s concerned gaze and Jin Yuna’s prying curiosity, Hee-soo walked to a secluded corner and dialed her aunt’s number.

Riiing.

[Hello? Hee-soo?]

Her aunt answered almost immediately. Once, Hee-soo had forced herself to call her “Mom,” but now, not an ounce of that sentiment remained.

“Aunt. What do you think you’re doing?”

[Ah, Hee-soo, dear. Why do you sound so scary?]

Hee-soo let out a dry laugh as her aunt continued.

[The broadcasting station suddenly called me. They said since you’re filming a movie and making a comeback, appearing on TV would generate buzz and be good for you. I just thought it would help you, so I agreed.]

Her aunt’s words went in one ear and out the other.

This was the same old routine. The woman who called herself her mother had always threatened—without outright saying it—to expose Hee-soo’s impoverished and miserable childhood whenever she needed something.

Hee-soo hated the label that clung to her name: “Seo Hee-soo, from Kangrim Cultural Foundation.”

She despised the rumors that revealed she had once been an orphan. She couldn’t stand how her past—being beaten daily by her uncle and aunt before she entered the Jae-hyuk household—was romanticized as if it were some beautiful memory.

She had buried all of it because it was simply unbearable.

Whenever they demanded money, she sent it, hoping to bury the memories along with their existence. Even the fact that they lingered in her life felt suffocating.

[If you don’t like it, I won’t go on TV. And stop calling me ‘aunt.’ Hee-soo, no matter how much you know I’m not your biological mother, the time we spent together doesn’t just disappear, does it? It hurts my feelings. Just call me ‘Mom,’ Hee-soo.]

“Mom?”

A real mother wouldn’t do this to her own child.

Suddenly, anger surged uncontrollably. Hee-soo confronted her aunt sharply.

“How much did you get for this?”

[What do you mean?]

“The appearance fee. How much did they offer you to sell my past this time?”

[Oh, honestly, Hee-soo. Don’t talk like that. I’m not some broker selling off my daughter. Yes, the offer was tempting since we’re struggling financially right now, but we wouldn’t do anything you didn’t approve of.]

It was always the same. By this point in the conversation, Hee-soo would usually transfer them more money than they’d initially agreed upon. But this time, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m not sending any money, so stop dreaming. I’m prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

[What? You… what are you saying?]

“I’m speaking clearly enough for even a human to understand. Stop acting like animals.”

[Oh my goodness, Hee-soo! How can you say such things? We fed you, clothed you…]

“Do you feel wronged? So do I. If you have anything to say from now on, do it through a lawyer. If this broadcast airs, you’ll see me in court.”

[Hey! Hey!]

Her aunt’s frantic cries echoed through the phone, but Hee-soo ended the call without hesitation.

After blocking all numbers associated with her aunt and relatives, Hee-soo crouched down and buried her head between her knees.

“Haah…”

She felt like no one around her would leave her alone. Not Jae-hyuk, not her mother—and now, not even Jin Yuna. She felt suffocated, as if the air itself was cutting off her breath.

“…Um.”

At the sound of someone calling her, Hee-soo lifted her head slightly to see Choi Han-young squatting in front of her, watching her with concern.

The moment she realized it was him, Hee-soo dropped her head back between her knees and muttered,

“Sorry, but could you please leave me alone for a bit?”

“Oh, well…”

Despite her request, Han-young didn’t move.

“I overheard your call unintentionally.”

“…”

“I couldn’t just stay quiet after hearing that.”

“…And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Though she expected her sharp reply might offend him, Hee-soo didn’t lift her head from her knees. She wanted to be alone.

“I don’t trust myself to choose my words carefully right now. I’m sorry, so please just leave me alone.”

But instead of leaving, Han-young plopped down onto the floor beside her.

“In that case, I should apologize too. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave you here alone.”

At his words, Hee-soo abruptly raised her head, glaring at him resentfully. However, Choi Han-young simply smiled gently and met her gaze.

“Your cheeks are still quite red. Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

Hee-soo stared at him blankly, silently willing him to mind his own business. But Han-young, unfazed by her icy glare, continued with the same warm expression.

“This might be overstepping, but I actually know someone who could help you. Someone capable of resolving matters both legally and otherwise. I’d like to introduce you.”

“…What do you mean by ‘that side’?”

“Family matters.”

You’re definitely overstepping.

Hee-soo shot him a look that conveyed her thoughts loud and clear.

Ah, please just leave me alone.

Han-young showed no sign of leaving, even after clearly reading Hee-soo’s blatant refusal. Instead, he began scrolling through his phone and held up an article for her to see.

“You probably don’t know much about my story, right? I went through something similar to you—exhausting family issues and all that.”

“…And?”

“Don’t misunderstand me. I feel sorry for you. This lawyer is highly skilled, and they’re also great at handling smaller matters. Give them a call.”

The film’s shooting schedule was expected to last nearly a year, and they had only just begun filming. Choi Han-young didn’t seem like the type to approach her with malicious intent.

Still, there had to be something he wanted.

After weighing her thoughts carefully, Hee-soo cautiously asked him,

“…Is there something you want from me?”

When she bluntly posed the question, Han-young responded with a bright smile.

“We’re co-stars in this project, so your peace of mind is my peace of mind.”

“Are you sure that’s all?”

Hee-soo’s expressionless face prompted him to answer again, this time in a softer tone.

“Let’s have a meal together sometime. Just the two of us.”

“…I don’t usually meet up separately with co-stars…”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like that. Don’t be suspicious. I just thought it’d be nice to get to know each other better.”

Han-young nodded knowingly, as if he anticipated what she was about to say, and flashed a charming, mischievous grin.

After going this far, rejecting him outright felt awkward. Besides, they had only just started the first day of filming.

Hee-soo confirmed one last time, reiterating their earlier conversation.

“Are you really sure it’s just that?”

“Yes, just that.”

Han-young stood up and extended his hand toward Hee-soo.

“Come on, let’s go. I think the director will call us soon.”

“…”

Hee-soo stared at him silently for a moment before finally taking his outstretched hand and rising to her feet.