Episode 185. The Woes of an Office Worker (1)
“Yeonghwan, do you think you could scrape up all the recent news on ZA Company for me? Even if it’s just about the Chairman’s wife changing her Ferrari from yellow to red. Anything.”
“Yes, understood.”
After assigning the ZA Company research to Do Yeonghwan, Seon Guan checked the monitor again. The graph was trending upward.
‘Until Team Leader Ji checked, there definitely wasn’t anything that seemed like a defect.’
Ever since Ji Seongin had acknowledged him, the two had worked together quite well and risen through the ranks. Hadn’t they even received an incentive bonus recently thanks to their collaboration?
But now.
A red flag had been discovered in a product that he and Ji Seongin had joined forces to design, one that My Asset Management was heavily pushing and preparing to launch in earnest.
To others, ZA Company’s graph probably looked red, but to Seon Guan’s eyes, this graph was unmistakably black.
The names of companies whose stock prices would rise were red.
The names of companies whose stock prices would fall were blue.
And a black graph meant…….
“……It’s going to be suspended from trading.”
“Huh?”
“ZA Company might become a scrap of toilet paper. Due to capital issues!”
……It meant delisting.
* * *
‘Ha Seomyeong, you really are a good actor.’
I try not to judge others, but Ha Seomyeong’s acting draws admiration.
The flustered expression of falling in love, the flustered expression of making a mistake, and the flustered expression when facing a big problem—they were all different. It just goes to show that experience makes all the difference.
‘Come to think of it, Choe Jeho and Gang Giyeon were also incredibly good with facial expressions, too.’
All I could manage was a “smile brimming with joy before clocking out” or a “smile filled with happiness from getting my paycheck,” but those guys had a much broader spectrum of laughter.
Was the mission to appear on ‘In My Office’ given so that I could study these things and raise my dance proficiency? Since I couldn’t fathom the system’s intentions, I couldn’t help but speculate.
‘I thought I was already pouring my soul into my acting, even if it has fallen into a rut.’
In truth, no one had ever pointed out that my expressions were awkward. It was probably because expectations for me weren’t high, but at least it meant I wasn’t an eyesore on screen.
That meant I was doing a decent job of fending for myself, so I needed to find ways to improve further.
For example, studying the acting of my seniors to find what I lacked, or paying more attention to my chemistry with others…….
“I Wol, could you throw this away for me?”
……Or pandering to a senior’s mood.
* * *
To Jang Junhu, UA was his own front yard. That was why Jang Junhu’s unruliness was simple.
As long as his family didn’t find out, that was enough. That was Jang Junhu’s mindset.
On the other hand, Gu Jahan had a tendency to justify his own actions.
He was someone with the ideology that this is a filming set, that the main workers on a set are the actors, and that the site revolves around the actors.
Picking fights unnecessarily with cast or staff who weren’t actors by birth was in the same vein.
It was probably also due to the pride of having devoted over ten years to acting since becoming an adult, even though this was his first leading role.
‘He thinks he has to discipline those who taint the holy waters of the filming set.’
The actor opposite Gu Jahan in this was Ha Seomyeong, an idol-turned-actor. Though their starting points had differed, their actual years of experience weren’t that far apart.
Even though Gu Jahan revealed his displeasure without any filter, Ha Seomyeong didn’t respond. In other words, Gu Jahan’s attempt to establish the pecking order had failed.
That type of person could only feel secure when they had someone beneath their feet. To show off.
‘Watch him closely. If you mess up, you might be treated like him.’ Showing that was Gu Jahan’s goal.
I was the one caught in that pecking-order game. How wonderful. I’m an active idol with only a few lines, yet my screen time keeps increasing because a fellow idol-turned-senior is looking out for me, not to mention the directors adore me.
“I Wol, work hard. There are more than one or two people who’d risk their lives to be in this spot.”
“I really think…… we need to stop idols from crossing over to acting. It degrades the quality of the work. Can’t you feel that yourself when you deliver your lines, I Wol?”
Whenever we happened to be waiting together, Gu Jahan whispered incessantly. Anyone watching might have mistaken us for being incredibly close.
Not that anyone would, since Gu Jahan was so busy calling me a cheap entertainer.
But does he have no sense of his own place, saying things like that? Ha Seomyeong is a better actor than him.
If he’s so jealous of a dual career, he should just debut as an idol himself, all flashy and everything.
Since he kept being a nuisance, I only pretended to listen, and Gu Jahan gradually started making me do errands.
Things like, “Since you’re throwing that away—by the way, I had nothing in my hands—throw mine away too,” or, “If you’re going to the waiting room, could you take my bag?”
There was even a time he ran into Ha Seomyeong and the two of them clashed spectacularly. It just had to be on a day when Gu Jahan had to confess to Ha Seomyeong, saying, “Yes, I’m worried about Seon Guan. Is that enough?!” You have no idea how worried I was that filming would be ruined that day.
So I’m grateful yet sorry to Ha Seomyeong, but I’m putting up with Gu Jahan’s nonsense as discreetly as possible to avoid causing harm to the production company and Ha Seomyeong.
It was the same on Gu Jahan’s end. Having judged that there was nothing to gain from picking on Ha Seomyeong, the lead, he now only tormented me when Ha Seomyeong was filming.
“I Wol, that coffee I told you to throw away. Did you already toss it?”
“Yes, I just threw it away.”
“Ah, you already threw it away?”
Gu Jahan furrowed his brow as if troubled.
You told me to throw it away quickly, fuck. Pissing me off. And here I’d been living so meekly since UA became peaceful.
“Come to think of it, I think I had my personal cup holder on that cup.”
After saying this, Gu Jahan closed his mouth. Silence fell.
It was obvious what Gu Jahan wanted to say.
“Is it important?”
“Yeah, I got it from a fan. I have to find it.”
Something you got from your fan, and I’m supposed to…
I thought I’d never have to rummage through a trash can again after leaving Hanpyeong Industries. I’d been arrogant.
“I’ll look for it, sunbae-nim!”
I answered with a bright smile.
What workplace doesn’t have its petty tyrants? Everyone lives like this.
* * *
It probably differs from set to set, but on ‘In My Office,’ they use large plastic bags in place of trash cans.
Even with recycling, the amount of trash produced by dozens of people was always tremendous.
And here I am, searching for a disposable takeout cup that Gu Jahan likely used inside that garbage bag. Fuck.
If there had been any unusual cup holder to begin with, there’s no way I would have missed it and just thrown it out. He probably just spouted whatever to make me do pointless busywork.
Yet there’s only one reason I have to go through with this.
Because I can’t tarnish the group’s name in someone else’s workplace.
Unfortunately, one celebrity’s actions inevitably become representative of all celebrities. If I talk back to Gu Jahan, tomorrow’s entertainment news would run with: “Out-of-line idol’s insubordination, spreading beyond his main job to the acting industry……” Having appeared in the news a lot against my will, I know how it works.
‘I have to air safely until episode 12 to gain proficiency, so I can’t kick someone out midway like some people.’
While fuming, I was swamped trying to redo the messy recycling on top of everything.
System, I’m upholding ethics and morals so well—can’t you give me something? Even though my pants are soaked with coffee, I’m not getting annoyed and I’m diligently picking out paper cup holders.
But the system didn’t appear. Fucker. Motherfucker.
Instead of the system, something else showed up.
“I Wol, you haven’t found it yet?”
It’s this bastard, Gu Jahan.
What, gonna give me a reward if I find it, punk?
“Not yet, sunbae-nim. I don’t see anything special.”
“Ah, then I guess I was mistaken.”
Even so, Gu Jahan didn’t say a word of apology or acknowledgment of my efforts.
I’m genuinely curious. What do people like this gain from such behavior?
The simple joy of tormenting others? Shouldn’t you have graduated from that in elementary school?
Many thoughts crossed my mind, but you have to get on with society. I answered while trying my best to smile brightly without showing any sign of it.
“That’s a relief. I was afraid you’d lost something important.”
Whether it was the opposite effect, Gu Jahan’s expression grew even worse.
“I Wol, I guess you don’t have any pride or anything like that?”
“Huh?”
“Is it because you’re an idol? Because you have to manage your expressions? You really can’t show when you dislike something.”
What does that have to do with being an idol? Does he think there are only one or two people in the workplace who have to hide their true feelings?
There are probably about fifty million working adults in South Korea alone who carry the sorrow of hiding their true thoughts. If you’re going to pick a fight, at least come up with a better excuse.
‘What a load of crap.’ I tried sending a telepathic message, but it didn’t reach Gu Jahan. Gu Jahan’s mouth ran nonstop.
“No matter what you’re told, you just giggle, and whenever someone calls, you scurry right over. Like a desperate attention-seeker, you stick your nose everywhere and touch everything. You think that’s doing a good job, I Wol?”
= The way you laugh and get along with everyone and jump into everything even at a tough filming site is a real thorn in my eye!
……Isn’t that what he means? That’s what it sounds like to me. If it bothers you that much, go grab some cable ties and bundle up LAN cables.
I’ve already told those Spark guys that an idol not smiling is a sin, so I have no intention of slacking on expression management. Not going when called is just having no social skills.
I silently pulled my foot out of the garbage bag.
Gu Jahan, who had been watching me, spoke.
“Pretty soon you’ll be rolling over and showing your belly in front of the director. That’s exactly what my dog does.”
Gu Jahan had long since crossed the line as a colleague doing the same job; now he was trampling the line of human decency.
“I Wol, do you happen to know? If a few more lines might get dropped.”
That’s what I’m saying; I really don’t get it.
What does he want to gain by insulting others in such a low-class way?
Assistant Manager Kim hates idols