Chapter 34: Don't Be Nervous, Mr. Gru

August 15th.

The production of "The Heirs," which had been in preparation for months, was about to commence. The first leg of location shooting was set for the West Coast of the United States, and the production team had chartered a passenger jet for the commute.

Originally, only the actors involved in the early location shoots were scheduled to fly to Los Angeles. Later, the supporting cast whose scenes were centered in Seoul were also required to join—the producers dubbed it "an opportunity to soak up the crew's atmosphere in advance," but in reality, it was because they harbored doubts about the acting skills of the newcomers.

Inside the cabin, the air conditioning blew cold enough to chill one’s knees.

As Krystal Jung glanced toward the empty 24C seat to her rear-diagonal for the third time, the seat in front of her suddenly reclined.

Kim Ji-won tilted her head, peering through the gap:

"What are you looking for? Your neck is about to swivel like a searchlight."

"A charging port."

"He’s not coming."

Krystal’s hand, in the process of plugging her cable into the side of the armrest, paused: "Who?"

"Would you like a blanket?" A flight attendant pushed a trolley and stopped in the aisle.

"Never mind if you don't want to know."

Kim Ji-won took a blanket and adjusted her seat back.

Not far away, Park Hyung-sik was messaging Kang Jae-hoon on Kakao:

[Are you really not coming to LA? We're short a referee for the beach volleyball match!]

Kang Jae-hoon’s reply popped up quickly:

[Schedule conflict. Eat two extra airplane meals for me.]

[And take a few extra looks at the bikini babes for me too!]

Park Hyung-sik smirked as he hit send, but when he turned around, he caught Krystal’s expression of hesitation.

Just as she was debating whether to ask Kim Ji-won, the seat in front reclined again, and Kim Ji-won held up her phone, shaking it at her.

On the screen was their Kakao chat interface—

Under a profile picture of a calico cat were two messages:

[Kim Ji-won: You aren't going to LA?]

[Kang Jae-hoon: It clashes with the promotional schedule for the dubbed film.]

[Kim Ji-won: I understand. Good luck with the event.]

"How do you have him on your friends list?!"

"Added him after last week's script reading," Kim Ji-won said, slowly lowering her phone. "Just seeking advice on pronunciation techniques."

"You need to use Kakao for that?"

"Should I be like someone else, secretly photographing scripts? Or swapping seats?"

The tips of Krystal’s ears flooded with crimson. She snatched a blanket and pulled it over her face: "I'm sleeping."

Kim Ji-won poked the knees protruding under the blanket:

"I took a screenshot of someone’s annotations. He said they were excellent and that I could use them as a reference."

The blanket was yanked down halfway: "You shared my notes?!"

"I told him they were 'Actor Jung’s exclusive secrets'."

"..."

***

As the flight streaked over the clouds of the Pacific, Kang Jae-hoon was stuck at an intersection in the Gangnam District.

Kim Dae-won slammed the steering wheel, cursing the red light, while the "Despicable Me 2" promotional flyer on the passenger seat rattled in the air conditioning breeze.

The total population of South Korea had just surpassed fifty million, with one-fifth of the nation squeezed into the Seoul Metropolitan Area along the Han River.

Every morning at six, while the skyscrapers of Gangnam were still glinting in the cold light, over three million vehicles would surge into the highway network like an ant colony.

These iron torrents crawled at an average speed of less than twenty kilometers per hour, stretching a trip that should have taken an hour into a desperate test of endurance.

Kang Jae-hoon was currently in the same predicament.

"How many times have you memorized it?"

Kim Dae-won gave up on cursing the traffic and glanced at the rearview mirror.

"Three times."

"When reporters ask about your first dubbing experience, answer 'Mr. Hwang Jung-min taught me well.' When they ask about your co-stars, answer 'I learned a lot.' When they ask about future plans..."

"Focus on the present and strive to become an actor that Chungmuro needs."

Kang Jae-hoon recited mechanically.

Essentially, every conversation an artist had in front of a lens was the result of precise calculation and deduction—like the "triple denial of scandals" or the "award acceptance speech templates."

Even in the improvised Q&A segments, those seemingly candid responses might have been rehearsed in twenty different versions at the manager’s conference table.

The media preview for "Despicable Me 2" was held at the CGV cinema in Myeong-dong.

The registration desk was piled high with Minion dolls.

When Kang Jae-hoon arrived at the underground parking garage, he bumped into Im Yoona and Kim Taeyeon, who were attending the event together.

When Im Yoona saw Kang Jae-hoon, her eyes curved into crescents:

"The tie you chose today suits an actor’s identity quite well."

At these words, the memory of her teasing him about his "IU" printed tie during his internship at a real estate agency instantly flooded back.

"Thank you. I swiped this tie from my mentor."

As he spoke, his gaze swept over Im Yoona’s outfit—the lantern sleeves of her pearl-gray silk shirt made her wrists look exceptionally slender.

Her beige, high-waisted wide-leg trousers bunched into soft folds at her ankles, and together with a silver-buckled thin belt, they outlined her curves perfectly.

This attire, which struck a balance between office-wear and a date outfit, managed to perfectly harmonize an actor’s intellectual aura with an idol’s vibrancy.

"I heard Jae-hoon-xi is holding classes on set?"

Kim Taeyeon leaned in, waving a promotional brochure.

Kang Jae-hoon turned and bowed slightly to Kim Taeyeon: "I’m just sharing some basic techniques."

"How is our Krystal doing?"

"She's quite the diligent learner."

Im Yoona’s hand, which had been adjusting her cuff, paused slightly. Her eyes flashed:

"Teacher Kang seems to really enjoy preaching and teaching. Last time it was dubbing techniques, this time it’s line rhythm; next time, will you be teaching improvised choreography?"

"Uh... I wouldn't dare claim the title of 'teacher.' I just figured that the more skilled Krystal Jung is, the fewer NGs we’ll have during our scenes together."

"Unnie."

Im Yoona suddenly turned to Kim Taeyeon: "Didn't the director say we needed photos of the actors interacting for promotional material?"

Kim Taeyeon blinked: "Did he...?"

"So—"

Im Yoona moved to Kang Jae-hoon’s side: "Let’s take a photo."

The scent of citrus drifted to Kang Jae-hoon’s nose as she drew near. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he rubbed the sweat from his palm against the seam of his trousers.

Im Yoona scanned his taut shoulders from the corner of her eye, a faint, imperceptible curve tugging at her lips:

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Gru."

"I, I'm not nervous."

Kim Taeyeon, three meters away, held up her phone:

"Look here—1, 2, 3!"

The moment the flash went off, Im Yoona tilted her head, as if listening intently.

"Click—"

Kim Taeyeon stared at the screen and clicked her tongue: "Your composition looks like an ad for a matchmaking agency."

In the photo, Kang Jae-hoon’s right hand was suspended at his side, halfway to being raised, while Im Yoona’s profile was bathed in a soft glow from the lights.

"Unnie could debut as a photographer."

Im Yoona handed the photo to Kang Jae-hoon for his inspection: "What do you think?"

Kang Jae-hoon was just about to say something, but he was suddenly interrupted by a wave of screams from not far away—

Over twenty fans were blocking the entrance holding "Girls' Generation" banners, the sound of camera shutters mixing with their shrieks:

"Yoona! Look here!"

"Taeyeon Unnie, I love you!"

Im Yoona tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear by reflex, her lips curling into the perfect, thousand-times-practiced curve.

Kang Jae-hoon stepped back half a pace, watching them expertly pose in heart shapes for their fans.

Kim Dae-won tugged at his arm:

"Don't just stand there like a bodyguard. Go wait by the entrance."

"Wouldn't that be a bit impolite?"

"They’ll be at this for at least five minutes."

Kang Jae-hoon took one last look at the center of the crowd—Im Yoona was bending over to sign an autograph for a young student.