The CEO Forced Me to Be a Movie Queen! (GL) - Chapter 4

The streets of Seoul at night were slightly less boisterous than usual, the rain soaking the city and bringing a biting chill. Jin-yeon leaned against the car window, her head throbbing. Her memory was a graveyard of several unhappy romances, though tonight was far from the most painful of them. She wondered what kind of look Moon-young would give her if she knew just how dissolute and defeated she felt.

Moon-young… in the end, she had chosen to leave. As the eldest daughter of a family with long-standing ties to the Chois, she had married the heir to the house—Jin-yeon’s half-brother.

*****

The brightly lit streets were a sensory overload, plastered with either campaign posters or massive idol endorsements. Could a country of only fifty million really accommodate this many entertainers?

To the north, a missile had been launched just days ago. The President had issued a stern condemnation and was busy preparing joint military drills with the United States. Nearby, China was already protesting the maneuvers.

Yet, amidst the wind and rain, the entertainment industry ensured this city remained polished, glamorous, and drunk on its own decadence.

*****

When she stepped out of the car and entered the modest agency, she held up a hand to stop the agitated Papa Ahn. She was exhausted—acutely aware that she was only doing this to distract herself from her breakup.

Papa Ahn led the way, his voice a blur of introductions that she barely registered. But then she stepped into the practice studio. Amidst the heavy beat of pop music, a tall, slender girl stopped dancing. In that cramped, mirrored room, she turned to look at her.

How much she looks like Moon-young, Jin-yeon thought, her heart skipping. Those eyes, those brows…

For a reason she couldn’t fathom, a single look from the girl named Seol-soo made the music seem to fade into silence. Driven by the lingering sting of the alcohol and a sudden, jagged shift in her mood, Jin-yeon nearly felt tears prick her eyes at the sight of that face.

Papa Ahn prompted the girls to introduce themselves. Jin-yeon shook the girl’s hand and offered a small smile. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re working hard practicing this late.”

“Hello… Thank you for your concern, President Choi. I’m sorry you had to come all this way so late,” Park Seol-soo replied. She bowed alongside Ji-hyo, the second eldest, though her clear eyes held a trace of confusion as she glanced toward her producer, wondering what was happening.

Jin-yeon barely remembered whatever Papa Ahn said next. She stole a few more glances at the girl before looking down at her watch. “I believe I should head out. I have a flight to catch.”

“You won’t stay a bit longer to chat?” Papa Ahn asked tentatively.

Jin-yeon shook her head and gave her brief assessment. “She has great potential—strong dance skills and exceptional visuals. I can see her value.” She paused, then delivered the verdict: “I’ll have Representative Han handle the investment and acquisition details. It won’t be a massive injection of capital, but it will be enough to stabilize your situation.”

Her words sent the man into a state of near-ecstasy. He showered her with praise, and the entire SPE staff began bowing in gratitude. Ailee, the tall, thin manager, chirped “thank you” repeatedly, nudging the girls to show their appreciation.

When the slender Park Seol-soo thanked her again, a stray strand of hair from her practice was stuck to her sweaty forehead. Her gaze was just as it had been in the photo—clear and stubborn. Though she was only nineteen, she exuded a rich, layered beauty that transcended her age.

As Jin-yeon stepped out of SPE, the late-night rain began to drizzle again. Papa Ahn walked her to the car. She took one last look at Seol-soo standing on the curb to see her off, gave her a slight smile, and let out a sigh.

The alcohol must have finally gone to her head. Her brain felt dizzy. She leaned in and whispered something into Papa Ahn’s ear.

For a second, the producer’s expression was one of pure shock. She simply patted his shoulder, knowing that while he had a decent reputation, he wasn’t exactly a saint in this business. To survive in such a small, crowded country, certain things were unavoidable.

She climbed into the car, and Secretary Kim draped a thin blanket over her. With the air conditioning humming, she finally felt the pull of sleep. She wanted to call Moon-young, but it was too late, and there was nothing left to say.

She felt a flash of self-loathing for her own fickleness, and yet, the longing for the woman she lost finally forced a rare tear from her eye.

*****

After the Mercedes S-Class pulled away, the SPE staff remained in a state of euphoric shock. Kim Jeong-seo, the President’s young assistant, slapped Papa Ahn on the back. “I told you we’d pull through, Papa! We should celebrate. How about some barbecue?”

He was an eternal optimist. “We’ve got the favor of the capitalists now! We’re basically under the NT Group umbrella. NEWONE is the company of Choi Jae-jung’s daughter—the legendary Choi Jae-jung! Things are looking up, Papa!”

His excitement was infectious. Ailee nodded, watching the two young idols who were actually wiping away tears. “Finally, we don’t have to worry about disbanding… Ah, I shouldn’t say that; we weren’t going to anyway. Seol-soo, Ji-hyo—you’ll have to practice twice as hard from now on.”

Seol-soo nodded with a smile. “Understood. I will.”

Beside her, Ji-hyo—whose features were quite refined but carried a certain boyish charm—ran a hand through her pale blue hair. She looked skeptical. “Can Seol-soo wait until the money actually hits the account before doubling the workload? If the investment falls through, we’re still done for.” The current practice schedule was already at max capacity; besides, Seol-soo’s left leg hadn’t fully healed after an injury on a variety show.

“Don’t be such a jinx, Ji-hyo. What matters is having an indomitable spirit!” Ailee reached out and playfully pinched the rebellious girl’s ear.

“Ailee! Let go! It hurts!” the blue-haired girl squealed. Ailee was the type of manager who got physical whenever she got emotional.

Amidst the playful bickering, Papa Ahn clapped his hands. “Alright, alright, everyone worked hard. Now that there’s hope, let’s not be gloomy. I’ll treat everyone to a meal—the fried chicken place down the street is still open.”

“Papa, you’re so stingy. I thought a big win like this deserved at least some Hanwoo beef,” Jeong-seo grumbled.

Papa Ahn laughed and swatted his head. “The investment hasn’t even cleared yet. You want us to go bankrupt faster? Be happy there’s chicken.” He turned to the girls. “Tonight, Ailee won’t watch your diet. Let’s go eat something good.”

Seol-soo smiled, and she and Ji-hyo bowed their thanks. The group headed to the shop across the street.

Though they were between promotion cycles and the company had paused operations, Seol-soo usually maintained a strict regimen: milk and bread for breakfast, and boiled broccoli, fruit, and a small piece of chicken breast for lunch and dinner. She had eaten this way for four years, since her trainee days, unless it was a special occasion.

Ailee, who was not yet thirty and had moved from media into management three years ago, considered Seol-soo her pride and joy. She often claimed Seol-soo was the most disciplined artist she’d ever seen—which put a lot of pressure on Ji-hyo. Ji-hyo wasn’t a “fairy” who could live on air and dew. Back in their trainee days, she, Yoo-ri, and Moon-wol would often hide snacks, dodging managers to eat cup noodles and jerky in their dorm.

This was perhaps the most comfortable meal they had shared in months.

As they listened to Ailee and Papa Ahn swap stories about the old days of the industry—of seniors who had debuted before they were even born—Papa Ahn became sentimental. He mused that if he had kept better habits like his friend Senior Cha, he might still be on stage today.

“But Papa, if you were still a singer, DTJ wouldn’t have debuted. Myeong-yun wouldn’t be the main vocal, and we wouldn’t have debuted either,” Ji-hyo said, biting into a piece of chicken. Compared to others her age, she was a deep thinker. “As a producer, you’ve outdone Senior Cha.”

Mentioning DTJ made Papa Ahn both proud and sad. He downed a large gulp of beer. “Myeong-yun is a good kid. Finding him was my lucky break. If we get this investment, I’ll make sure Myeong-yun, Jeong-hap, and Seo-min make a comeback.” He was getting tipsy, a bit of tragic “hero in his twilight” energy clinging to him. He looked at the girls. “And of course, I’ll make sure the music is top-notch so THEME can finally make its mark. We’ll realize our musical dreams.”

His assistant, Jeong-seo, was even worse off; his face was flushed red, and his eyes were welling up. “To the future of SPE! Bottoms up!” He downed a bottle in one go.

Ailee, seeing him about to collapse onto her, frowned. “Aish, this guy… claiming he wants to celebrate when he just wants an excuse to drink. I’m not taking care of you, you brat! Don’t get so wasted, you still have to drive the kids home. Goodness sake.”

After the noisy supper, the habitually quiet Seol-soo carefully packed a portion of food and drinks for Yoo-ri and Moon-wol back at the dorm. Since Jeong-seo was too drunk to drive, Ailee called a taxi for the girls and paid the fare, reminding Ji-hyo to look after her older sister. “You’re the one who’s been practicing Taekwondo since you were a kid. Protect Seol-soo, got it?”

Ji-hyo rolled her eyes. “Ailee only knows how to protect Unnie. I’m a girl who needs protecting too, but Ailee always treats me like one of the boys.”

“Thank you for everything. We’ll be careful. I’ll look after them,” Seol-soo waved goodbye.

As the taxi pulled away, Ji-hyo and the group’s “Big Sister” huddled in the back. Seol-soo stared out at the rain-slicked scenery. Though she had lived in this city for four years since moving here at fifteen, it still felt foreign.

A soft English song played on the radio, making the atmosphere peaceful. Ji-hyo glanced at her friend. Seol-soo’s profile was a study in sharp, elegant lines—a straight bridge of the nose, long lashes that curled even without makeup, porcelain skin, and thin lips. In the night light, she looked like a marble statue.

“What did Papa say to you when he pulled you aside?” Ji-hyo nudged her with an elbow, like they were passing notes in a middle school classroom.

Seol-soo snapped out of her daze. She looked at her friend—Ji-hyo’s blue hair was strange yet beautiful, a perfect fit for her free-spirited personality. Seol-soo hesitated, then shook her head softly. “Nothing. Just some words of encouragement.”

But in truth, remembering Papa Ahn’s conflicted face as he relayed the investor’s “additional condition,” Seol-soo’s heart felt like the weather outside—gloomy, dark, and freezing.

That female President had made a truly preposterous request.

Support The CEO Forced Me to Be a Movie Queen! (GL)