Chapter 14: The Echo of 1999
What are you doing? Sunghoon scolded himself, his internal voice sounding sharper than usual as he surveyed the modest office.
He let out a quiet sigh. The woman he had met outside_Alice _had her head buried in a filing cabinet, mumbling to herself as she flipped through folders.
The office was a large, open-plan space divided by simple partitions. In the far-right corner was a section marked CEO, where Alice was currently hunting for a specific script. Ha-ru's eyes drifted to a small framed photo on the desk. It was a little girl, her smile bright and infectious.
Does Mae-rin have a child? he wondered. Beside it was another photo: Mae-rin, the child, and an older woman whose face sent a pang of longing through his chest. It was his mother.
Aside from those two pictures, the office was devoid of personal touches. It was functional,a conference table, four desks cluttered with files, and a tiny kitchenette tucked into the corner with a worn sofa.
Ha-ru knew he could still leave. He could stand up, walk out the door, and Alice would have no way to find him. Но turning his back now meant severing the only real link to his sister. He missed her with an ache that was becoming harder to ignore. He wanted to see the woman she had become.
"Found it!" Alice's voice cut through his thoughts.
She marched over, brandishing a few sheets of paper. "Read this. I'm going to record you," she commanded. She had a naturally imposing aura, the kind of woman who didn't take 'no' for an answer.
Ha-ru looked down at the page. His breath hitched.
He recognized the dialogue instantly. It was from his very first lead role.
A lump formed in his throat as the memories of that set flooded back,the electric, hopeful energy of a young man who thought he was invincible. He remembered his mother cooking his favorite meal to celebrate his first major nomination. Even though he hadn't won that night, the emotions of that film remained some of his most cherished treasures. And now, they were staring back at him from a cheap laser-printed sheet.
The film followed a rebellious high schooler struggling with a fractured family and the brutal reality of the streets. The character eventually joined a gang, only to be betrayed by the very people he called brothers. It was a story of disappointment and misery.
Ha-ru swallowed hard and stood up. He skimmed the lines, the words replaying in his mind like a perfectly preserved recording.
"I'm ready," he said.
Alice paused, the camera half-set. Most actors begged for at least ten minutes to "find the character." She looked impressed, nodding as she hit the record button.
"Whenever you're ready."
The scene was the emotional peak of the film.
As Ha-ru began to speak, Alice felt the air in the room shift. Her heart felt as though it were being pulled from her chest. The young man in front of her moved with a terrifying precision, his eyes holding a depth of grief and betrayal that no twenty-three-year-old should be able to simulate.
She knew, before he was even halfway through the scene, that she had found a gem. He didn't just play the role; he was the boy in the script.
When he finished, Alice sat in stunned silence for a moment before giving a small, dramatic clap, wiping a stray tear from her eye.
"That was... very good," she praised, her professional mask slipping for a second.
She checked the footage, ensuring the focus was sharp. "Leave your contact info here."
She handed him her phone. Ha-ru stared at it like it was an ancient artifact for a second before manually typing in his number. Alice looked at him as if he were a fossil - no QR code? No social media link? - but she didn't comment.
After a short conversation about where he lived, Ha-ru made his exit. The moment he reached the sidewalk, the tension in his shoulders finally snapped.
He checked his phone.
A message from Se-hee: Did you get there okay? Don't get lost!
I'm fine. Arrived without a hassle, he replied.
It was almost noon. He had time before his shift at the restaurant began, and there was one more place he needed to see.
The building was even larger than he had imagined. A bittersweet smile touched his lips as he read the sign: TRace Entertainment.
Sunghoon remembered the night that name was born. He and his best friend,and business partner,Dong-gun, had been half-drunk when they came up with it. It was meant to symbolize the "trace" they would leave on the world.
He stood across the street, watching the tide of people moving in and out. It pained him to see how much it had grown. The company had gone from a two-man dream to an empire with thousands of employees and a roster of the country's biggest stars,including Re-draft.
But a question tugged at his mind. If Trace was this successful, why wasn't Mae-rin part of it? She had always been hot-headed and fiercely independent. He could almost hear her arguing with Dong-gun over some creative choice and storming out to start her own agency. It would be just like her.
His phone alarm buzzed. Shift time.
He gave the glass tower one last look and hailed a taxi.
As his cab pulled away, a black van slowed to a stop in front of the Trace entrance. Inside, Raiven looked out the tinted window. His brow furrowed as he caught a glimpse of a familiar ponytail disappearing into a taxi.
"Is something wrong?" his assistant manager, Li, asked.
Raiven watched the taxi merge into traffic, a strange feeling settling in his gut. "No," he murmured, shrugging it off. "It's nothing."