"Hurry up."
At Ha Moo-young's urging, she slowly rose to her feet. Blood still stained the corners of her mouth, but he didn't mind much. It was only visible to his eyes anyway.
"For now, I'll just call you Ghost Lady, okay? Truth is, when I was a kid, I lost my parents and had a really tough time scraping by. I know the saying that everyone has their hardships, and I get that you had real reasons for ending up like this. But under the assumption that the living have to keep living, can I ask you a favor?"
Blink-blink. The ghost just sat there limply, listening to Moo-young's words. Living or dead—this was a first. Not only did he look straight at her, but he wasn't scared at all.
"Will you help me sell this place?"
Moo-young placed his hands over hers, which were resting on the floor. Like smoke scattering, her form wavered.
"First off, there's an interview shoot here today. Starting with that, I'll promote the place on SNS and wherever else I can. At the same time, I'll pitch it to Bu-yong too. You know Bu-yong, right? The owner of this place. He's been tearing his hair out because of you."
In exchange for helping promote and sell the house, he'd demand an incentive fee. Jun-ho would handle the calculations. It was a multi-billion-won officetel, after all—probably worth a few hundred million at least? Heh heh heh.
"If you refuse, you can stick around here forever, no problem. But if you're okay with it, please leave."
Shhh! At Moo-young's words, the ghost bristled. A chill swept through the room in an instant. It was the ghost's frost, said to bring rime even in the fifth lunar month. Get out—just like that? No way in hell.
Moo-young wagged his finger and clicked his tongue. "You gotta hear people out. Did being a ghost make you forget everything so quick?"
In return for helping him, what the ghost would get was...
"I'll set up a proper ancestral rite for you. There's a monk I know well up on Amwang Mountain. I met him a few times as a kid over my weird spiritual issues—he's kind and compassionate. With the incentive money, I'll build you a shrine there..."
Kyaaah! Now she was screeching like metal scraping metal in protest. Ding? That's not the reaction he expected. Moo-young's eyes widened as he stared down at her.
"Don't like food?"
Most stray ghosts went nuts for ancestral rites. They usually had no family left to offer them anything, making them lonely souls.
"Well, what then? What do I do?"
He hadn't seen this coming. Tilting his head, he examined the ghost closely. Her red eyes still held sorrow.
"Food's the best thing out there, after all."
...That's just your opinion.
"Whoa! You can talk?"
A clear voice rang out. Moo-young jumped in shock and fell flat on his butt.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the entryway.
"Ha Moo-young. What're you doing? Taking a shit?"
Jun-ho had arrived, arms loaded with bags. He peeked his head into the hallway. Moo-young whipped out his phone, pretending to be on a call, and waved him off.
"Yeah. No. Stay there, I'm on the phone."
"Why're you sitting on the floor instead of the sofa?"
"This is comfier. You go sit down."
And with a shoo-shoo like chasing pigeons, he sent him away.
Moo-young slipped into the master bedroom and beckoned the ghost over. "If you can talk, why didn't you say so earlier!"
...
"Clamming up again? Come on, what do you want? Money's no good, I bet?"
The two huddled together in the master bedroom. It was bright midday sunlight, yet darkness cloaked her.
She...
You're an actor, right? She gazed at Moo-young softly and asked. Her eyes were different now. With her form flickering and long hair draping over, it was hard to see clearly.
"Yeah."
Moo-young brushed her hair aside as he answered. Her face held a hint of tears. Ah, got it. This was envy and jealousy. Blood dripped from her tightly bitten lip.
"Why, what's wrong? Did I do something bad?"
You really lack the basics, kid. Shouldn't you start with names and how we got here? Look at me like this!
"I heard you killed yourself. Why ask for the gory details? It just happened, right?"
Yeah. He wasn't dying to know. From experience, the deeper you dug, the more headaches piled up. Better to keep it simple—exchange what each needed and move on.
"Tell me what you want. I'll make it happen if I can. No food, so... what?"
She bobbed her head, hair hanging down, clearly pondering. Moo-young waited patiently in front of her.
Tick-tock. How much time passed?
There's a Hado Theater on Daehak-ro 45th Street.
"Hado Theater?"
The play Tiger Thorn Tree there was my first lead role.
Yeah. Honestly, it was a blessed life. Born to wealthy parents, she'd chased her acting dreams without real hardship. Even dipping into the poorest corners of art, her life stayed polished.
"And?"
But life needed some grit. Once she slipped, she kept sliding, unable to get up. Straight into depression's pit, she reached death without grasping anything. In a heartbeat. Just a tiny release of effort.
I never got to do it. I prepared so much.
"Sorry, but no possessing my body or anything."
...Take your body after I get it?
"Huh? It's pretty useful, you know."
Moo-young chopped the air firmly, and the ghost retorted in disbelief.
I want to perform there. Play the other lead for me.
He wasn't sure what she truly craved deep down. But if he had to pick what kept circling his mind, it was that. Delivering lines on the stage she'd never stood upon.
"Ah, that's it? Easy. But can't we do it here? Does it have to be there?"
There.
"Picky, huh."
But it wasn't as tough as he'd feared—no shrine expenses like some spirit house. Moo-young hooked his pinky out and pleaded.
"Promise then. We both keep our ends. This is a multi-billion-won officetel on the line. Might not mean much to you rich folk, but for me—"
Ignoring his tirade, she silently rose and phased through the wall. Shut up, it said.
"Why ignore peo—"
"Hey. Ha Moo-young."
He shot up in exasperation, only to meet Jun-ho's even more baffled stare. Silence hung between them.
Jun-ho grabbed Moo-young's shoulders with a grave look. Luckily, he held his phone in one hand—had to play it off as a call.
"Knew you'd pull something like this, you punk."
"W-what?"
How long had he been listening? Moo-young glanced away awkwardly as Jun-ho started shaking his shoulders, eyes welling up like he might bawl.
"Lending your body? Why there specifically and not here? Saw it coming from the start, you rascal! That Han Da-kyung lady—"
Smack!
"You psycho. Take this!"
"Then what was it? You said lend your body just now? With the officetel on the line, keep promises—sponsor maybe—"
Smack! Smack!
Moo-young smacked Jun-ho's head repeatedly with both hands. His brain was full of filthy nonsense! Perverted demon!
"Moo-young-ah. I'm here. Wow, this place is insane!"
Right on cue, Go Kyung-min arrived. Moo-young yanked Jun-ho's ear and bolted to the entryway.
Thud thud thud! Kyung-min startled, shoes still on amid the commotion.
"Hyung! Explain to Im Jun-ho for me!"
"Manager hyung! Moo-young's gone all dark and—"
Crunch crunch. The friends snarled at each other like they wanted to devour one another. Kyung-min set down his fruit basket, chuckling.
"...You two get along so well."
* * *
"Actress Hyo-jeong? Skin allergy?"
"Yeah, that's it. So Dr. Martel set up this case study. You said real estate beats cash, right?"
Moo-young mumbled around a mouthful of apple. Kyung-min's testimony cleared up the weirdo's misunderstanding quick. Lucky, but having a friend like that just drew a sigh.
"Then what was that earlier?"
"...Play request."
He whispered so the manager tidying the kitchen wouldn't hear. Jun-ho finally nodded like it all made sense.
"But can you even eat apples? You got lipstick on."
"Just in case, I grabbed some."
Moo-young shook a small transparent bag. Inside was a cotton swab with lipstick on it. Cheongdam-dong was too fancy; he'd dashed to the nearby salon for hair and makeup.
"When's the reporter coming?"
"Around three? Should be soon."
Ding-dong ding-dong! Speak of the devil. The doorbell rang right away. Kyung-min rushed from the kitchen to greet them.
Click.
"Hello. Reporter."
"Hi. Wow, what a place. Nice to meet you, Ha Moo-young-ssi."
"First time meeting. Ha Moo-young."
The reporter, camera slung over her shoulder, gawked around the apartment. Yes, exactly! Good vibes make for good photos.
"Have a seat here."
"Ah, thank you."
"Reporter-nim, coffee or tea?"
"Coffee for me. Lots of water."
The reporter unpacked her laptop, recorder, and paper files onto the table. Pro at actor interviews—smooth and efficient. She picked up her pen with a bright smile.
"Nice to meet you. I put even the little details in my interviews."
It's starting now—answer well, it meant. Moo-young shook her hand lightly and nodded.
"Yes. Please take care of me."
"Alright, formal intros first? I'm Lee Eun-a, entertainment reporter for Maeil Daily. Self-intro?"
Click. The recorder started with her words. Following Kyung-min's prep, Moo-young opened with the basics: age, student status, how he juggled Seoyeondae studies, veering into unrelated acting, and so on.
"Ah, right after CSAT?"
A bit embellished, but Moo-young answered honestly. The reporter's typing sped up.
"Left an impression with Hanbam Pochah, now shooting Plague, and recently an M-net miniseries too? Minor role, but you're on a roll."
"All thanks to the company pulling strings behind the scenes."
"Tell me about that time then. The hot incident recently."
Tap tap.
"Hm. How to put it? It's all out there already."
Moo-young tilted his head thoughtfully. Kyung-min watched tensely from behind. Lee Eun-a sipped her coffee and smiled.
"Haha, no need to tense up. Newbies misunderstand sometimes. Do we reporters eat celebrities for breakfast? Just curious about what went down."
Behind her words, thick black smog billowed up. Moo-young dropped his half-eaten apple with a clatter.
"Did you see it? The Oon Ta and Ha Moo-young looks comparison comments. What do you think? 'He's better in person' side?"
And like Moo-young, Kyung-min and Jun-ho clocked it as bait. The three exchanged silent glances.
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