EMTM 05

Chapter 05

“……I’m screwed.”

Su-i muttered under her breath, making sure she couldn’t be heard.

She had basically been demanding that the Executive Director of Hwa-ja Entertainment, of all people, show her the figurehead CEO, Choi Hwa-ja.

The memory of how she’d acted so arrogantly toward this man in front of the vending machine flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern.

When she had seen the secretaries respectfully greeting him as they entered this room, she had simply thought, So Kang Tae-hyung really is that important, and let it slide.

But then—why would an executive director buy a 500-won vending-machine coffee for an entertainer downstairs?

And if he was an executive director, why didn’t he just say so?! Why had he been teasing her with that sly attitude, testing her the whole time?

“I-I think I got confused. With Kang Tae-hyung. Y-You look exactly the same.”

“Confused?”

Despite Su-i’s lightning-fast change in attitude, Tae-hoon glared intensely at her.

Feeling even more intimidated by that look, Su-i realized she had to say the one thing she had forgotten.

“…I’m sorry.”

When she lowered her tail and apologized, Tae-hoon finally let out a small chuckle and leaned back against the sofa.

But he didn’t take away that threatening gaze.

Jeong Su-i, who used to rule the 007 King Club in Itaewon, has actually bowed her head before power.

Su-i found her current situation bitterly ironic.

“If you want to join my company, show me everything you have, Ms. Im Yu-na. I’ll decide whether you’re worth investing in.”

“……”

“Not CEO Choi.”

“……”

“Me.”

“But isn’t Ms. Im Yu-na’s talent already well known?”

At his words, Su-i frowned and looked at Tae-hoon.

That was clearly a remark intended to hit Im Yu-na’s pride.

Su-i didn’t know exactly how lacking Im Yu-na’s skills were, but if she were talking about Jeong Su-i, the story was completely different.

Back in her day, when people talked about singing, they talked about her.

Although she had died as an unknown singer, she had also been known for having a heavenly voice and being a musical genius.

A strange competitive spirit was sparked inside Su-i.

Tae-hoon, on the other hand, merely looked down at her with a languid expression devoid of expectation.

His gaze was filled with prejudice, as though it were saying, What could you possibly do?

“Do you really like spring rain?”

“……”

“I’ll sing this song for you.”

“What song is that?”

Does he seriously not know this masterpiece?

What a baby.

Su-i cleared her throat.

It had been twenty-five years, so she didn’t know whether she could properly demonstrate her abilities, but she decided to sing anyway because that dismissive gaze irritated her.

It was a male-female duet, and the female part required a delicate, clear voice and resonance, almost like singing a children’s song.

Without even announcing that she was starting, she immediately began reciting the lyrics.

As Su-i sang the first syllable, she was a little surprised.

Yu-na’s voice was much clearer than she’d expected.

If Jeong Su-i’s tone had been slightly thick and low, Yu-na’s was high and refreshing.

The resonance and tone were beautiful, but Yu-na had probably been worked to the bone by her agency without any proper training.

So she likely never learned how to use her vocal cords properly.

Su-i closed her eyes and began to immerse herself in the emotions of the song.

She sang with the feeling of longing for someone she loved while standing by a window where a soft rain was falling.

Almost carelessly, as though tapping a dining table with chopsticks and singing along to a melody—yet allowing the emotions of the song to seep into every note.

Whenever she sang this song, she always felt so sad.

Whether it was a lover, family, or someone whose form she couldn’t even remember, the unbearable longing that welled up inside her seemed to intensify through the song.

She became completely calm.

And somewhere deep inside her chest, she felt an unfamiliar ache.

What is this pain?

Who am I longing for so desperately right now?

What was I wandering through this world for?

After finishing the entire song, including the second verse, Su-i firmly closed her lips.

She had become so immersed in the song that she had nearly burst into tears.

She looked at Tae-hoon with eyes full of tears.

He remained in exactly the same position, staring at her with an expressionless, puzzled face.

She was amazed that he could maintain such an expression after she’d just sung such a sad song.

But… something was strange.

He seemed unnaturally stiff, almost as if he’d frozen.

Su-i slightly lifted herself and waved her hand back and forth in front of his eyes.

Only then did Tae-hoon blink once.

“The song is over.”

“……”

At Su-i’s words, he shifted his gaze toward her.

Looking closely, Su-i noticed that Tae-hoon’s eyes were sambaekan—three-white eyes.

When expressionless, they looked endlessly cold and sharp, making it impossible to read his thoughts.

I didn’t know eyes like these could look so mysterious.

Perhaps those eyes were why she’d felt so intimidated by him.

“I haven’t sung in front of anyone in a long time. I should’ve warmed up my voice before singing.”

Since it had been so long since Su-i had sung in front of another person, she became awkward and started rambling for no particular reason.

But Tae-hoon merely stared at her without saying anything.

When someone was standing there feeling awkward like this, it might actually be better if they said something—even a harsh criticism.

His oppressive gaze was making it difficult for her to breathe.

Although Jeong Su-i had once been known for having a heavenly voice, her one weakness had been her thick vocal tone.

That was why her high notes could sometimes sound strained.

But Yu-na’s clear voice made the high notes sound soft instead.

They were refreshing, like glass beads rolling over one another, and even exhilarating.

It felt as though Yu-na made up for nearly every weakness Jeong Su-i had.

It even felt as though Yu-na were the missing half that perfectly filled something Su-i lacked.

Then why is Tae-hoon looking at me like that without saying anything?

Ah, I don’t know.

That wasn’t what mattered to Su-i.

Just as she was about to shout out of frustration, Tae-hoon finally opened his mouth.

“…That expression.”

There was something strangely loose about his face, making it impossible for Su-i to read him at all.

Su-i swallowed nervously and waited for what he would say next.

“What were you thinking about when you sang?”

“…I-I was thinking about someone I missed.”

“Who do you miss?”

“…I-I don’t know.”

Su-i had been waiting for his evaluation, whether it was praise or criticism, so the question was anticlimactic enough to leave her deflated.

Who do I miss?

Su-i didn’t know either.

Honestly, she didn’t even know whether this emotion belonged to her or to Yu-na.

“Don’t sing this song.”

That was what Tae-hoon said after a long silence.

“Why?”

“I’ll be the only one who listens to it.”

“……”

“Sing this song only for me.”

Recently, Tae-hoon had received reports about a strange woman loitering around the headquarters.

It was common for fans to linger around the company building hoping to see its entertainers, but after his younger brother Tae-hyung had acquired a rather persistent stalker, security had been tightened considerably.

Tae-hoon and Tae-hyung were brothers with a seven-year age gap.

Aside from Tae-hoon being taller, they looked almost identical. If someone saw them with blurry vision, they might not be able to tell whether it was Tae-hyung or Tae-hoon.

Even CEO Choi Hwa-ja still occasionally mistook Tae-hoon for Tae-hyung and slapped him on the shoulder.

Perhaps because of that, sasaeng fans and stalkers sometimes confused Tae-hyung and Tae-hoon as well.

The current stalker wasn’t causing any major trouble, but she was persistent.

Even after adding more security than before, they couldn’t seem to catch her, and Tae-hoon was getting tired of it too.

He hadn’t expected things to become this troublesome after Hwa-ja Entertainment had gone through major upheaval and he had begun directly participating in its management.

After checking the CCTV footage in real time, it wasn’t difficult to realize that the woman wandering around the company building wasn’t a stalker at all.

She was Im Yu-na.

And Tae-hoon knew Im Yu-na quite well.

She was an actress the same age as his younger brother Tae-hyung, and she had appeared alongside him in the drama that had been Tae-hyung’s debut work—the one that had promptly flopped.

She had also worked as an exclusive model for JC Planning, an affiliate of the JC Group, and because of that, Tae-hoon had crossed paths with Im Yu-na several times.

However, they had never actually spoken to each other.

As time passed, Im Yu-na failed to show the public any particular appeal, so her exclusive contract didn’t even last two full years.

Without either the skills or the appeal to attract the public, her image had gradually declined.

Then why was that Im Yu-na lingering in front of Hwa-ja’s headquarters?

For several days, no less.

She was supposedly disguising herself with a mask and sunglasses, but all she actually did was stand in front of the coffee vending machine and count her coins.

No matter how much of a B-list celebrity she was, Im Yu-na was still an entertainer.

If someone like her kept hanging around, it was obvious that rumors and scandals involving Hwa-ja’s entertainers would eventually spread.

Tae-hoon wondered whether he should contact Im Yu-na’s agency and have them come take her away, or simply call security and have her removed.

In the end, he went downstairs himself.

Partly because he was curious about why she was behaving like that.

And partly because, that day, he happened to want a sweet vending-machine coffee.

But something was strange.

The Im Yu-na Tae-hoon knew had been exactly the image she’d shown on television.

Dull. Frustrating. Lacking both motivation and quick thinking.

But was that really her?

He hadn’t expected that small, mumbling voice to be so powerful.

Nor had he known that her previously awkward pronunciation could be this clear.

Her distinctive manner of speaking and behavior should have come across as arrogant, yet this version of her was confident and full of vitality.

How should I describe it?

As though she had eyes capable of bending everything to her will.

With eyes like that, Tae-hoon suddenly felt an intense desire to recruit her immediately and see how far he could develop her.

“I need to check something, so excuse me for a moment.”

That tacky black pair of sunglasses had never seemed so inconvenient.

It was also the first time Tae-hoon had actively asked someone’s permission because he wanted to look them directly in the eyes.

But he was curious.

What kind of eyes could possibly belong to a woman with such an arrogant voice?

When he gently lowered the sunglasses, his eyes met