Chapter 9: The Noblewoman's Brother

On the night the premiere of "Macbeth" concluded, the Sunrise Theater’s official website crashed for two hours.

The ticketing system showed that all 2,400 tickets for the three-night run had sold out a week before opening, yet spectators were still huddled in blankets on the theater steps, holding cardboard signs reading "Tickets Wanted" until three in the morning.

Three days later.

The whiteboard in the SEM company conference room was covered in scarlet handwriting:

[Data Statistics for 4.27-4.29 Performances]
Attendance: 100%/100%/100%
Media Coverage: 18 outlets (including an SBS feature)
Online Discussion: Naver Real-time Search Top 3 for a cumulative 9 hours

Kim Mi-hye tapped the whiteboard heavily with her pen.
"We added four rows of folding chairs, and it still wasn't enough. People from the Ministry of Culture were squeezed into the fire exit to watch the whole thing."

Hwang Jung-min sat with his legs crossed, gnawing on an apple.
"Those old stubborn mules didn't actually fall asleep?"
"Only your son fell asleep."

The *Ode to My Father* film crew had finished shooting on location in Thailand and everyone had returned to Busan to continue filming. Hwang Jung-min had rushed back during the director's one-day break.

"As for the extension requests we've received—" Kim Mi-hye looked down at the application forms. "The Chung-Ang University Drama Club is applying for a charity show, the Busan Cultural Center is inviting us for a tour..."

Hwang Jung-min suddenly scoffed.
"Wow, who was it that said a localized 'Macbeth' would flop?"
"It was you," Kim Mi-hye replied without looking up.
"..."

Kang Jae-hoon, huddled at the end of the conference table, suppressed a laugh, but was forced to straighten his expression under Hwang Jung-min's death glare.

"Um, President..." Kim Dae-won suddenly raised his hand. "I request that we schedule the encore performances after June!"
Kim Mi-hye raised an eyebrow. "Reason?"
"The media is currently digging up Kang Jae-hoon's photos in drag. We need to strike while the iron is hot to pivot his career."

Kim Dae-won held up his tablet and read out the industry invitations brought in by the traffic:
"MBC sitcoms are inviting him to play a cross-dressing bartender, and an SBS morning drama has a gender-bent serial killer role."
"KBS’s 'Acting Salon' wants him to discuss his experience with cross-dressing; Olive TV wants him to demonstrate a 'noblewoman's gait'."
"There's even a late-night variety show called 'Cross-Dressing Dating Show'—the appearance fee for that one is seven figures."

"Turn them all down."
Hwang Jung-min frowned and tossed the apple core, missing the trash can. "If you want to transition, find respectable work. Don't engage in these gimmicks."
"You're right." Kim Dae-won suddenly threw an arm around Kang Jae-hoon's shoulders. "I'll take him out to eat something good to nourish his brain."
"...?"

"Jae-hoon-xi, there's fan mail!"
As they passed the front desk, the receptionist called out to him.
"Oh?" Kang Jae-hoon took the cardboard box.
It was stuffed with handwritten letters and gifts. On top sat a crumpled bag of instant coffee, with a sticky note written in crooked handwriting:
[Jae-hoon Oppa, your noblewoman's crying scene made me give up on getting plastic surgery. It turns out single eyelids are beautiful too T_T]

Kang Jae-hoon dangled the bag of instant coffee the fan had sent, acting cocky.
"Looks like my single eyelids are about to set a trend."
Kim Dae-won suddenly snatched the coffee bag away.
"Wake up. The last time the whole Korean internet raved about single eyelids was Rain, and that was back in 2004."
"At least the audience remembers my character..."

"They remember the drag!"
"Hyung—"
"Shut up and get in the car."

Kim Dae-won shoved Kang Jae-hoon into the backseat of the second-hand Kia, the box of fan gifts getting jammed in the car door.
Kang Jae-hoon pawed at the window, shouting: "The box is going to get crushed!"
"Being crushed is perfect. It’ll save you from treating high school girls' gifts like medals."

The range hood at Seong-ho’s Fried Chicken was roaring.
Park Seong-ho saw the two of them through the glass window, grabbed a strainer, and banged it against the counter.
"Yo, the noblewoman has arrived—"

Kang Jae-hoon didn't mind the teasing and greeted him with a smile.
"Hyung, you didn't use my promotional standee today?"
"A drunk guy cracked it yesterday, I'm having it redone."

Kim Dae-won kicked open a squeaky plastic chair and sat down, tapping the table with his fingers.
"Get him a bowl of Samgyetang (ginseng chicken soup)."
Park Seong-ho’s eyes went wide, and he pointed at the sign with his strainer.
"My sign says fried chicken! Fried! Chicken! There isn't even a clay pot in the kitchen!"
"Then go buy one now."
"Aish... so a noblewoman needs to drink ginseng chicken soup to recover, huh!"

Park Seong-ho grumbled as he turned back to lift the kitchen curtain.
Kang Jae-hoon leaned over the counter and shouted after him:
"Add extra bean sprouts, hyung!"
"Add your head! I have to go to the market next door to pick fresh ones!"

Kang Jae-hoon returned to his seat and suddenly remembered the bank clerk, asking:
"Hyung, that person you went on a blind date with last week..."
"It tanked. That woman said I look like I'm collecting protection money when I chew on a toothpick."

Kang Jae-hoon snapped apart his disposable chopsticks and said:
"It can't be that bad, right?"
He knew why Kim Dae-won kept a toothpick in his mouth—he was imitating Chow Yun-fat.

"I told her I was a professional agent," Kim Dae-won suddenly pinched his voice to mimic a woman's tone. "'Oh my~ how many artists do you manage~'"
"What did you say, hyung?"
"Half."
Kang Jae-hoon’s chopsticks froze in mid-air. "I'm... half?"
"What else would you be?"

As they were talking, the glass door was pushed open with force, and a man in a plaid shirt rushed in, clutching a briefcase.
"Seong-ho hyung, thirty orders of soy-garlic fried chicken!"
Park Seong-ho poked his head through the curtain, grinning.
"Assistant Director Lee, here to feed the crew again?"
"Yeah, the foreigners have picky palates. They insist that fried chicken and beer is the only way to get a taste of Korea."

Park Seong-ho gave Kim Dae-won a wink as he turned back, gesturing with his chin toward the man in the plaid shirt.
Kim Dae-won understood instantly. He sauntered over with the toothpick still in his mouth and pulled out the chair opposite Assistant Director Lee.
"Brother, which unit are you with? Ordering thirty chickens is quite generous."
"The Korean dubbing unit for *Despicable Me 2*."
"Whoa, ordering a late-night snack for those big-shot voice actors?"
Kim Dae-won pulled out a pack of Dunhills and offered one. "Is it the original cast for the second one?"

"Big-shot my foot!" Assistant Director Lee took the cigarette and loosened his tie, grumbling.
"The budget was slashed in half. The original voice actors complained about the low pay and ran off. Now we're all being forced into it."

Kim Dae-won’s lighter hovered in mid-air.
Kang Jae-hoon’s chopsticks clattered onto the table.

Assistant Director Lee took a deep drag. "Those foreigners are cheapskates. The offer is less than half of a local TV drama dubbing job. The budget for Gru’s voice is only this much—"
He held up one finger.
"Ten million won?"
Assistant Director Lee sneered.
"One million! Big-name voice actors think the pay is too low, and newcomers think there's no exposure. The director is going crazy."

"Can newcomers audition too?"
"Of course." Assistant Director Lee lowered his voice. "Anyway, the animation audience recognizes the IP, not the person."
"What a coincidence!" Kim Dae-won slapped his thigh hard and pointed at Kang Jae-hoon. "What about my younger brother here? Cheap and easy to use."

Assistant Director Lee turned to look at Kang Jae-hoon, who had instinctively straightened his back.
"You look a bit familiar, are you...?"
"Hello, Assistant Director Lee, my name is Kang Jae-hoon, I am with SEM..."
"Ah! The Noblewoman Guy!"
Kang Jae-hoon: "..."
What kind of strange nickname is that!?
"...You can just call me by my name."

"Try a line of Gru yelling at the Minions?"
Assistant Director Lee opened his phone, pulled up a snippet, and handed it over.
Kang Jae-hoon read the lines silently for a moment, then took a gulp of ice water to clear his throat.

"You banana-brained idiots! If you mess this up again, I'll stuff you into a rocket and launch you to the moon!"
When he started, his voice was coarse and raspy, like sandpaper rubbing against rust.
"Banana-brained? That's a compliment! At least bananas can feed a dog—"
The tail of his voice rose sharply, his cracked voice splitting with a hint of madness:
"And you! You're not even worth as much as dog crap!!"

Half of Assistant Director Lee’s cigarette ash fell off.
Kang Jae-hoon abruptly stopped, scratched his head, and gave an awkward smile.
"Was that too aggressive?"
"No, no! It's perfect!"
Assistant Director Lee took back his phone and pulled up another set of lines. "Now, give me one coaxing your daughter!"

Kang Jae-hoon’s shoulders instantly relaxed. He used a breathy voice, like he was lulling Hwang Jae-woo to sleep, and murmured:
"Bananas are so expensive... eat them sparingly, Daddy still has to steal the moon tomorrow~"
His trailing voice was soft and sticky, sounding incredibly tender.

Assistant Director Lee stubbed out the cigarette and squinted at him.
"The Noblewoman Guy has some real skills."
He tore off a piece of the order slip and wrote down the address and his phone number. "Come to the Apgujeong recording studio for an audition the day after tomorrow."
Kang Jae-hoon immediately bowed ninety degrees.
"Thank you!"

The glass door chimed as Assistant Director Lee walked out with the chicken, then turned back to add:
"Noblewoman Guy, remember to bring throat lozenges the day after tomorrow."
Kang Jae-hoon almost choked. "My name is Kang Jae-hoon..."
"I know, I know, see you the day after tomorrow!"