A black sedan pulled into the Seoyeondae University dormitory parking lot. The sun had already dipped low, casting a dim twilight. Students in light clothing gathered in small groups in the open lot, wrapping up their day.
Tap tap. Han Da-kyeong drummed her wristwatch, glancing around anxiously. He'd definitely said he'd be there in thirty minutes, but he was late.
Then, far off, a familiar man emerged with a hood pulled over his head.
"Ah! Ha Moo-young, by any chance?"
His steps were unsteady, like he might collapse any second, but Da-kyeong didn't care. She rushed over and confirmed his face. Yep, that high schooler from Hanbam Pochah!
"Haaam— Hello. You actually came?"
Moo-young mumbled sleepily. His eyes barely open, he grumbled incoherently. He'd showered and passed out the moment he hit the dorm. His cheek barely touched the pillow before he was out cold. His roommates had tried to keep quiet out of consideration, but...
—Moo-young. Wake up. Your phone keeps ringing?
—Not important?
The relentless calls forced them to shake him awake. Moo-young answered in his sleep-mumbled voice.
—...Yeah. This is Ha Moo-young. Me? The dorm. I was sleeping... Do whatever. But who is this? ...They hung up?
Da-kyeong smiled brightly and handed him her business card. Sleek and urban style. She exuded the vibe of a successful young entrepreneur. A relaxed poise that stood out among the youthful crowd. Same age, but worlds apart.
"I had something urgent, so I called the company. Thanks for coming out."
"Haaaam—"
"You must be exhausted."
"Shooting was tough today."
Moo-young kept his eyes closed even standing. He hadn't even noticed the card she'd offered. She slipped a paper into his hand and cut straight to it.
"You look tired, so I'll get to the point. The actress who had a reaction to our product on set—is it Hyeo-jeong?"
"Huh? How'd you know?"
"We got a complaint at the company. And you mentioned a colleague with issues. The only project you're both on is Plague, right?"
Only then did Moo-young half-open his eyes. Everything blurred hazily, the surroundings bright and fuzzy. The dorm lights everywhere? Why was it all so dreamy? He rubbed his eyes and replied.
"Yeah, so?"
"I have a few questions. This is important to me—no, to the company—so please be honest. Hyeo-jeong used our basic skincare, right? And you did too?"
"Yeah. I found out later. A staff noona told me. Everyone getting makeup used the same stuff."
"Did Hyeo-jeong have a reaction right from the first day she used it?"
"Not sure."
And then another massive yawn.
Da-kyeong just smiled nervously. She'd come for one reason: to gather as much info as possible before facing Hyeo-jeong and her agency.
A colleague would've noticed something, right?
Was the victim's claim pure truth, without a shred of lie? Or was there any wiggle room? More angles meant better defense. Like a tree with many branches—even if some snapped, the trunk stood firm.
"Really?"
She raised an eyebrow. Was he even coherent right now?
Moo-young added in a weary voice.
"I heard suddenly today, so I covered for Hyeo-jeong sunbae... It was exhausting... Seriously."
He grumbled, glaring at her with his heavy-lidded, double-eyelidded eyes wide—or trying to, anyway.
"How's Hyeo-jeong sunbae? Really sick?"
"Sick? I heard skin trouble."
"She's hospitalized."
"Oh. That."
Da-kyeong chuckled. When they'd discussed meeting spots, it was Ace Clinic in Cheongdam-dong. Famous for plastic surgery and skincare. So, "hospitalized" meant hunkered down in a treatment room for intensive care.
"No need to worry. Anything else you can tell me? This is really important to me. You might not know, but the company's just solidifying its position. One shake could hurt bad."
"Nothing to say."
Smooth but firm, cutting her off.
Her insides burned. Damn it.
Habitually, she rummaged in her bag for a cigarette.
"Sorry, mind if I smoke? When I'm stressed..."
"Sure. Go ahead."
"Want one?"
"Nah. Just brushed my teeth."
"You don't smoke?"
Moo-young smiled sweetly, refusing. As sleep faded, her face sharpened into focus. He'd thought it was dorm lights, but her skin glowed. Like glitter—sparkling.
"Nah. I should head in and crash. Sorry for waking you. Thanks for talking."
She extended her hand for a goodbye, urging him to rest.
But Moo-young stood still, staring.
"What's up?"
Hard to smoke with him watching like that.
Moo-young tilted his head.
Cosmetics? Or flower pollen? Touching would tell, but no...
"Doing anything besides this business?"
Did she have a backup if Doctor Matel tanked? It sounded dire for her, like company survival. So why the sparkle?
Innocent question, but Da-kyeong's face hardened.
"...Do I know you?"
"Huh? How would I know the CEO?"
She flinched. Even company staff didn't know her identity. A twenty-something rookie actor she'd never met? No way.
"This business is it. It's my everything."
The illegitimate daughter of C.L.O.'s chairman Han Min-chun, Korea's top cosmetics brand. That was Da-kyeong's origin. Three older brothers at home— as the youngest bastard child, this was her only path.
"Anyway, thanks. Sorry I came empty-handed. Want me to grab snacks from the vending machine?"
But the more she looked, the more he seemed puppy-like. Milky skin made him look innocently childlike.
Moo-young pondered at "snacks." Should he mention what he'd thought of in Go Seung-min's car?
"Oh. Wait."
Yeah. Might as well. No harm if it helped. If it was an allergy, Hyeo-jeong sunbae needed to know fast.
"...?"
"Tell Hyeo-jeong sunbae to get an allergy test. Not sure what snack Yu-na gave her... But she ate that one, even though she usually skips snacks."
"Snack? What kind?"
"Dunno. Still team guy photographed it, but I can't remember. Bitter and nutty... Some new product."
Da-kyeong snapped the unlit cigarette in half. Tell me more.
"She ate it that day?"
"If it was Doctor Matel's first use, yeah."
"Where's the still team? What company?"
"Huh. No idea. Ask the production company."
Asking everything. On set, everyone's family. No need to know or care where they came from.
She crossed her arms thoughtfully, pulling out her phone.
"Thanks so much today."
She dialed hurriedly and dashed to her car. The sedan glided smoothly out of the narrow dorm lot.
"Bye—!"
Moo-young yawned and waved. Oops. Should've just taken the snacks. Could eat them later.
"Whatever..."
Lips smacking, he headed back to the dorm. Head hit pillow—straight to dreamland. This time, phone off completely.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇"Ugh, seriously..."
Soft lighting bathed the room. Hyeo-jeong, in a gown, made a sour face at the mirror. Pimples, redness, hives—all mixed in a hideous mess.
Grotesque!
"Aaaah! Damn it! What am I gonna dooo?!"
She hurled a towel, throwing a tantrum. Gone was her usual calm; now she bounced like a ping-pong bomb.
Her manager busied himself tidying products, repeating the same line.
"They said watch progress with meds."
"No way. How much have I spent here already? Laser or whatever—fix it fast!"
"There's a process..."
"I'll kill them all! That maknae too, and fuck, you called the company? Ruin them. Selling crap like that."
Hyeo-jeong bellowed in fury.
"Sue for damages. Got it? Or I'll blast it on SNS. Make real headlines—! Aaaah! Pisses me off!"
Two hundred already spent in a day on treatments. Money aside—her skin! She'd boasted flawless perfection on ultra-HD TV.
But this?!
Manager checked his phone.
"Uh... Hyeo-jeong. You're allergy-free, right?"
"Yes! How many times?"
Already noted at the dermatologist. No common dust allergies—picture of health. Doc knew her well.
"They suggest testing just in case?"
"Who?"
"CEO. Doctor Matel called. Test for allergies first, then negotiate. See if it's the product or allergy."
"Ridiculous. They compensating?"
Manager nodded.
"Sounds like it. For you? They should. Look at this face!"
Flattering to soothe, she sighed and flopped down, peering at the mirror.
"How long for results?"
"Three, four days?"
"Do it. And when they come... I'll show how healthy I've lived."
Hyeo-jeong muttered, swallowing irritation. About to erupt again—
"Massage prep."
Whirr. Staff wheeled in the machine; she stopped, waving manager out.
"Grab snacks on the way."
"Again? You'll gain weight."
"Stressed! Go!"
She glared lasers. Fine, lose it later. Handling her temper would kill him first.
He grabbed his wallet.
"The usual?"
"Yeah. Bean chips."
"Hooked since one taste."
"And coffee."
Nutty cookie chips packed with beans. Yu-na had shared once; now she craved them when bored.
Screech—
While manager ran errands, Doctor Matel's office buzzed with tension. Emergency meeting: CEO Da-kyeong and ten staff.
"Legal advisors reply?"
"Reviewing. Details tomorrow. No big legal liability, but..."
"What matters is what hits Hyeo-jeong's SNS. Followers?"
"3.2 million."
"Whoa. Insanely high. Really?"
"Dramas blew up overseas."
Tap tap tap! Da-kyeong's fingers flew.
Her agency would demand big settlement (call it consolation).
"Could be trouble. Allergy. Or bad luck both hit same time."
She muttered, eyes squeezed shut.
"But our path's one: allergy. No hesitation. Period."
Otherwise, payout or SNS backlash. No way. Absolutely not.
"Contact Mongnett for still team number. Reach that Yu-na too. Find out what she ate that day."
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