Chapter 27: A Beauty Session in Cheongdam-dong

Two days later.

The sound of a calico cat scratching at the door echoed through the hallway, and Kim Dae-won’s phone call jolted Kang Jae-hoon awake.

"You’ve been cast as Yoon Chan-young."

Kang Jae-hoon pulled the phone half an inch from his ear, squinting to check the time: 07:47.

It took a long moment for him to shake off the dizzying fog of sleep, but he suddenly jolted upright, bolting into a sitting position.

"Really?!"

"The script and contract will be at the office this afternoon," Kim Dae-won said, munching audibly on a gimbap. "There’s a script reading next week."

"Wow~~~"

"Oh, and your appointment at the beauty clinic is at ten," Kim added. "Get it dyed chestnut brown while you're at it."

"…A beauty clinic? Mr. Hwang Jung-min once said—"

"He said actors must serve their roles!"

The crisp crunch of pickled radish and cucumber was accompanied by Kim Dae-won’s muffled threat:

"If you talk back again, I’ll sign you up for a toothpaste commercial."

"Does it come with an endorsement fee?"

"..."

The busy signal at the end of the call blended with the splashing sound of water from the bathroom.

Kang Jae-hoon opened KakaoTalk and found he had been added to a group chat without his knowledge.

[Audition Survivors Alliance (3)]

Park Hyung-sik 07:12
[Screenshot]
[Even though I didn't get the role of Choi Young-do, I landed Jo Myung-soo!]

Kang Ha-neul 07:30
[Congratulations, I got Lee Hyo-shin.]

Park Hyung-sik 07:31
[@Kang Jae-hoon, what about you?]

Kang Jae-hoon grinned and typed back:
[Yoon Chan-young.]

No sooner had he sent the message than the Kakao notification sounds began to chime in succession.

Park Hyung-sik 07:50
[Daebak! Want to grab dinner tonight?]

Kang Ha-neul 07:50
[I’m in.]

Park Hyung-sik 07:50
[@Kang Jae-hoon?]

Kang Jae-hoon 07:51
[I have to go to the beauty clinic in a bit, not sure how long it will take.]

Park Hyung-sik 07:52
[Location Pin]
[Let’s do nine o'clock then.]

Kang Ha-neul 07:54
[Route Map]

...

When Kang Jae-hoon pushed open his bedroom door, Lee Sung-kyung was on her tiptoes, reaching for a box of oatmeal on the top shelf.

Her fair insteps were arched like a ballerina's, her toes grinding softly against the floorboards with a faint creak.

"You look really pretty today, Sung-kyung."

Lee Sung-kyung’s wrist suddenly slipped, and the bag of oatmeal spilled, half its contents tumbling out.

Light brown grains rolled across the countertop, and three of them bounced onto the edge of Kang Jae-hoon’s slippers.

"What’s gotten into you so early in the morning?"

She crouched down to pick up the oats, the stray hairs at the nape of her neck brushing against her collarbone as she moved.

As Kang Jae-hoon crouched down beside her, his knee knocked against the cabinet door with a dull thud.

"I mean..."

Kang Jae-hoon picked up an oat from the counter and dropped it back into the bowl. "The new yoga pants you bought really make your legs look long."

"Did you pass the audition?"

"How did you know?" Kang Jae-hoon asked, surprised.

"Your eye boogers are smiling."

"Huh?"

Kang Jae-hoon reflexively wiped the corner of his eye.

"On the right side, you didn't wipe it off."

Kang Jae-hoon leaned in toward the stainless steel basin; in the distorted reflection, a tiny bit of discharge was indeed stuck in the corner of his right eye.

He turned on the faucet and splashed his face.

The moment he lowered his head, the reflection on the rim of the stainless steel basin caught a glimpse of Lee Sung-kyung’s slightly upturned lips.

Ten in the morning.

Kang Jae-hoon arrived on time at the beauty clinic on the B1 floor in Cheongdam-dong.

The establishment was affectionately known as the "Back Garden of the Cheongdam-dong Matriarchs."

As one of the items most deserving of being designated a world heritage site in South Korea, the number of registered medical aesthetics clinics in Seoul exceeded two thousand.

Nearly sixty percent of those were located in Gangnam District.

When Kang Jae-hoon pushed open the glass door, the chill of the marble floor crept up the soles of his feet and along his spine.

The receptionist caught sight of the black card from Kim Mi-hye in his hand and instantly switched to a ninety-degree bow.

"Your personal consultant is already waiting in the VIP room."

The associate director gripped his chin, turning his head from side to side as an LED magnifying lamp cast orange spots onto his sunburned skin.

"Level four damage to the stratum corneum, melanin deposition in the dermis. I suggest three sessions of photorejuvenation before moving on to cold light therapy."

Kang Jae-hoon stared at the price list at the bottom: [Single session: 1.2 million won]. His Adam's apple bobbed three times before he managed to choke out:

"I’ll leave it to your arrangement."

"..."

The aroma diffuser filled the room with the scent of lemongrass.

When the cold light instrument beeped to signal the end of the procedure, the sunburn marks on Kang Jae-hoon’s face had faded.

Six hours later.

Kang Jae-hoon carefully examined the unfamiliar yet refined face in the mirror.

His chestnut-colored, short-layered bangs were trimmed into the most popular short side-part of 2013. His jawline still held a faint pink hue from the laser treatment, and his sunspots had been covered by foundation, appearing only as faint little moles.

Kang Jae-hoon opened the front-facing camera, his finger hovering over the shutter button for three seconds, before finally snapping a photo with his left side at a 45-degree angle, wearing what he considered his most "Yoon Chan-young-like" expression.

The moment the photo automatically saved to his gallery, Lee Sung-kyung’s KakaoTalk chat box popped up at the top of his screen.

As his fingertip swiped across the screen, the preview image he had just taken accidentally brushed against the [Send] icon.

The upload progress bar ran faster than a calico cat darting down a flight of stairs.

Kang Jae-hoon frantically pressed the Home button in vain—the 2013 version of KakaoTalk did not have an "unsend" feature.

"Aish..."

He clutched his burning-hot phone and spun around in place. The scent of the clinic’s aromatherapy mixed with the cold sweat trickling down his back, swirling into a strange, anxious aroma in his nasal cavity.

Reflected in the mirror, the nurse was busy cleaning up the laser equipment.

Kang Jae-hoon stared at the "Read" status in the chat box, tucking his phone into his pocket as if he were hiding evidence of a crime.

Kim Dae-won pushed the door open, jingling his car keys. "Why is your face even redder than before the light therapy?"

"It’s, it’s too hot."

Kim Dae-won glanced at the air conditioner, which was set to 20 degrees, and looked at him with a face full of question marks.

...

The neon signs of the barbecue restaurant lit up in the twilight.

Kang Jae-hoon stuffed his *The Heirs* script into his canvas bag and stepped out of the car.

Park Hyung-sik waved through the glass window, his face contorted into an exaggerated expression of amazement.

Kang Ha-neul set down his lemonade, his gaze lingering on the chestnut tips of Kang Jae-hoon’s hair for three seconds.

"Did you go to the beauty clinic or the ‘head-swapping’ department?"

"That trip cost me two months' salary."

Kang Jae-hoon grinned, the skin behind his ears still stinging from the laser treatment.

"It was definitely worth it." Park Hyung-sik studied his hair. "I almost asked, ‘Sir, did you walk to the wrong table?’ just now."

The waiter handed them the menu and stood to the side, waiting for their order.

"Do you want to drink?" Park Hyung-sik flipped to the beverage page.

"Are you even twenty yet?" Kang Jae-hoon handed the menu back to the waiter.

"Me?" Park Hyung-sik suddenly cupped his face in his hands. "Can I take that as a compliment that I have a baby face?"

"…How old are you?"

"Born in '91."

"If you're born in '91—" Kang Ha-neul pulled out a wet wipe to clean his chopsticks. "By Korean age, shouldn't Hyung-sik be using honorifics with us?"

Park Hyung-sik froze. "You guys…?"

"February of '90."

"September of '90."

Kang Jae-hoon added, "Call us 'hyung' and let us hear it."

After a moment of silence, Park Hyung-sik suddenly straightened his back.

"How about we go by debut year? I debuted in 2010..."

"I debuted in 2006 through a stage play."

Having said that, the two turned their heads in unison to look at Kang Jae-hoon.

Kang Jae-hoon: "..."

"Let's just use plain speech. We already saw each other rolling our eyes during the auditions anyway."

"That works..."

A moment later, a table full of diverse dishes was served.

As Kang Ha-neul stuffed a second piece of pork belly into a lettuce wrap, he suddenly turned to Kang Jae-hoon.

"I heard your partner for Yoon Chan-young’s CP is going to be Krystal Jung."

"How do you know?" Kang Jae-hoon’s tongs nearly pierced a rice cake.

"Park Shin-hye and I are in the same year." Kang Ha-neul popped the lettuce wrap into his mouth and spoke while chewing. "She told me on Kakao today."

"Oh..."

Kang Jae-hoon fished his phone out of his pocket. He had just typed "Jung Soo" into the search bar when it froze.

The loading icon on the screen spun five times before popping up a screenshot from a stage performance—

The girl was wearing a red crop top paired with high-waisted jeans, her mermaid line catching the stage lights and reflecting a marble-like texture.

Suddenly, a snippet of conversation about "Bangbae-dong down payments" drifted over from the table next to them.

Kang Jae-hoon’s ear twitched, and his body turned toward the right even before his brain could process it.

"The actual floor area ratio of that new apartment complex is 0.2% higher than the brochure, and the sunlight in the southern-facing units during winter..."

The middle-aged couple discussing house purchases froze, holding their soju glasses.

Park Hyung-sik’s piece of grilled meat plopped into his sauce dish.

Kang Ha-neul silently pushed a glass of ice water toward him.

"It’s off-the-clock time now."

"Ah, sorry." Kang Jae-hoon scratched his freshly dyed chestnut hair. "…Muscle memory."

...

The kimchi on the grill began to emit a burnt smell. Kang Jae-hoon was staring blankly at the search page for Krystal Jung.

Below her bare-faced photo, where she was wearing a baseball cap, her birth year was written: 1994.

His partner, four years his junior, was winking at him through the screen of his phone, amidst the background noise of the couple at the next table arguing over a "jeonse" lease.