Big Life-Chapter 179. Let’s Meet At Home (10)

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on 𝘧𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝑏𝑛𝑜𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝘮

“Jae-Gun hyung? What’s that?”

“...It’s nothing. Let’s head to the car.”

Ha Jae-Gun sat in the back seat and looked at the box on his lap. When he had met Seo Sang-Do the day before, they left each other at the drunk session without talking much. What was in this parcel?

‘What's going on with him?’ Lee Yeon-Woo glanced at Ha Jae-Gun strangely as he started the engine. He got worried upon seeing Ha Jae-Gun’s serious expression. Although he was curious, he held himself back and stepped on the accelerator.

As the box was tightly sealed with tape, Ha Jae-Gun had a hard time opening it as he didn’t have a cutter on hand. Soon, he managed to open the box and found that it contained a thick notebook along with a small envelope.

Compared to the old notebook, the envelope looked quite new. Ha Jae-Gun thought it was penned by Seo Sang-Do and opened it first.

As expected, the letter contained heartfelt words from Seo Sang-Do.

- To Mr. Ha Jae-Gun,

This is Seo Sang-Do.

It feels awkward to be holding a ballpen after so long. Please forgive my bad handwriting. My head still hurts from the hangover. I also hope that you’ll burn this letter after you're done reading it.

Looking back, we have quite a strange relationship. I still can't believe we got to meet like this because of my father's keepsakes that I had thrown out. The more I think about it, the funnier it becomes. It is such a ridiculous turn of events.

Your question that day hit the nail on the head.

It is extremely difficult for me to come clean on why I wasn't on good terms with my father. No one else in this world knows why I hate my father, but I'm willing to share it with you. However, I didn't have the courage to share it with you in person, and I'm not even sure why I'm telling you this painful story either.

I just thought that I should share it with you.

I think it might be a form of repayment for taking care of my father's grave and his keepsakes, though it's not really that great of a repayment.

A long time ago... I plagiarized a work before.

You might have guessed this at some point because you have a copy of my work, Finding My Way, in your study.

Of course, it received compliments from the literary world. I had rejected a certain award because, as I said, it was a plagiarized piece of work.

And... I had plagiarized my father's work.

I plagiarized his incomplete novel. I copied the draft of his novel that he had been revising hundreds and thousands of times across a decade.

I didn't subconsciously defend myself for what I had done, unlike other writers who had done so. I had decided to plagiarize his work right from the start.

I respect my father's talent in writing, and I grew up with that respect in my heart.

Like father like son, I had inherited his temperament, and I started writing at a young age. As I grew and wrote more, the more I got overwhelmed.

I had been writing for around twenty hours each day, but I still couldn't keep up with my father's shadow. I would always get left behind despite my hard work.

The young boy stood out in various school events during middle school had realized upon becoming a college student that his innate talent was different from his father's talent.

You may regard this as a ridiculous and subjective belief, but in my world, I couldn't find anyone else in this world who held the same talent as he did.

It’s thanks to the privilege that I am my father’s son and that I could read many of his works. The ones he had made after I was born were all masterpieces. However, none of them saw the light of the world.

They were such great works that made me feel that my works were inferior, but those works couldn't meet his standards. I would often cry alone as I felt sorry for his works that were hidden in the attic and couldn't meet the eyes of a single reader.

My father would always praise me, saying that I write well and that my work would become much better if I refined it a bit more. One day, however, he suddenly stopped complimenting my work. Had it been a form of pity from him, thinking that I did well for someone of my standard?

I was enraged and sad. I didn’t understand why my father, who was such a great writer, didn't want to show his works to the world.

The mixed feelings led me to the decision to plagiarize his work. I even rationalized with myself, saying that doing this would at least get my father’s works out into the world. However, I was more restless than resolute.

I wanted to get my name out there in the literary circle while I was still young. That’s why I needed my father’s help. I also believed that he would forgive me for plagiarizing his work because I was his only son.

However, the result is who I am today.

On the day he discovered that I had plagiarized his work, my father packed up and left the house. He burned all his works in the attic. He must have been enraged, but he only left me a phrase—You're still my son, but you’re no longer a writer. freewebn(o)vel

I rarely saw my father since then.

We couldn't even bump into each other at home or say hello to each other. My father would occasionally drop by the house to pick up some stuff that he needed, and he would continue on his long travels again afterward.

I haven’t done anything during that time period. I had been living on my father’s savings up until now while living like a maggot. I thought living like this was my revenge on my father.

It's pathetic, right?

How can I bring that up to you during our drinking session?

Anyway, I digress... The enclosed notebook is my father’s work that I had plagiarized.

It was the only copy I had hidden to get out of trouble. I don’t deserve to keep this, and I can't throw it out as well, so I’d love it if you could take care of it like what you had done for his other keepsakes.

I will soon be going on a long journey as well. Probably a journey chasing after the traces of my father. I will contact you again when I return, so please do not go and look for me.

Thank you for reading this long miscellany letter.

“...” Ha Jae-Gun didn't fold the letter after he was done reading it. For some reason, Ha Jae-Gun's heart felt as if it had gone through their decades of paternal bond.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Lee Yeon-Woo asked while looking through the rearview mirror. The car had come to a standstill before a red light. “I’m getting worried. Did something bad happen?”

“No, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Ha Jae-Gun reassured Lee Yeon-Woo and put the letter back into its envelope. He then reached out for the thick notebook. The notebook contained the last remaining draft of Seo Gun-Woo's novel.

Seo Gun-Woo’s somber spirit seemed to influence Ha Jae-Gun as he held the notebook in his hands. Flipping open the notebook, he saw the title of the novel—Great Life.

***

“Oh, Eun-Ha.”

— I just finished watching Gyeoja Bathhouse with the other writers and am on the way back. Wow, as expected of Yoon Tae-Sung. You did a great job. Getting five million viewers should be easy for you.

“We’ll have to wait and see, but thank you for the kind words.”

Yoon Tae-Sung put down the scenario that he was reading and stretched his head side to side and backward. He rubbed his tired eyes and asked, “How’s Market Place?”

— It’s just the first broadcast today; we’ll just have to pray that the viewership rating is good.

Market Place was a three-part drama series based on the script that Ha Jae-Gun had made. The Market and Its People was rejected for being an old-fashioned title. Ha Jae-Gun had no qualms over them changing the title.

Lee Eun-Ha continued speaking.

— You still can’t rest, then? You still have Storm and Gale to work on, right?

“I was just reading the scenario Mr. Ha sent over. I’m really going to rest for a year after I'm done with this.”

— Do you think Hong Ye-Seul will pass the auditions?

“Teencent Pictures seemed to think of her positively in the first round of tests, and they said that her looks would be popular in China. But we’ll have to see whether those are empty words or not. There are also a few promising actors in the auditions.”

— I hope the movie does well. There are already keywords related to female high school student in Gyeoja Bathhouse trending on the internet.

“It’d be nice if Ms. Ye-Seul’s popularity increases,” Yoon Tae-Sung said.

He recalled meeting Hong Ye-Seul a couple of days back. Hong Ye-Seul didn’t expect Yoon Tae-Sung to appear while she was fervently practicing the script of Storm and Gale, even though she knew that it was extremely unlikely for her to be chosen as the female lead.

— It’ll work out. You’re the director, after all.

“Forget it. Anyway, are you free later? How about having dinner and watching the live broadcast of Market Place together?”

— Sure. I’ll be earning a lot anyway, so it’s my treat. Where shall we meet?

“I’ll pick you up at the office by seven in the evening.”

— Okay, see you later then.

Yoon Tae-Sung looked around after hanging up the call. Verifying that no one else was around, he chuckled to himself. He was happy to hear how bright and cheery Lee Eun-Ha sounded today.

Yoon Tae-Sung didn't dare to skim even the most mundane parts of the script. It was his way to repay Ha Jae-Gun because he had helped Lee Eun-Ha recover her laughter and cheery demeanor.

***

Late evening had descended upon the city. Won Ji-Yeon was in a daze as she sat down in a cafe. The woman opposite her cast a curious gaze upon her, wondering what had happened to her.

“L-Local Culture TV?”

“Why are you so surprised? Did you not hear from Writer Ko? You’re Ms. Won Ji-Yeon, right?”

“Yes, yes... I am. But...” Won Ji-Yeon murmured while nodding.

Bo-Ra had scheduled this meeting for her.

Won Ji-Yeon had been told that she couldn't immediately join ICU Entertainment and that she had to wait until the time was right because preparations were still ongoing.

She was looking forward to it when Bo-Ra said that she had gotten her a relatively good position, but it was completely different than she had expected.

“You just have to work for me from now on.” The lady threw a stack of papers down on the table. It was a detailed manual of the cultural travel program she was handling. “Read it carefully, and gather every information necessary about visiting a temple in Gangwon-do by next weekend.”

“Um, excuse me...”

“Your monthly salary will start from 750,000 won. You don’t have any complaints, right?” The lady continued speaking without waiting for Won Ji-Yeon's reply.

Won Ji-Yeon was speechless. 750,000 won was an amount lower than her salary in her previous work as an assistant writer.

“I’m busy, so I’m going now. If you have a question, ask now.”

“Um, 750,000 won per month is—”

“Too low? But I'm already being considerate of you...”

“But there’s still my career experience...”

The lady sneered. She turned away and snorted before asking, “Aren’t you a rookie writer?”

“What...?”

“Why are you even asking questions? How dare you mention your experience here? Have you done any real work?”

Won Ji-Yeon looked down and held back the tears that threatened to come out. She was angry, and she felt that it was unfair. She was convinced that she simply needed a chance and that she would be able to create great works if given that chance.

“Look here, Ms. Ji-Yeon. I’ve been around in this industry for years so I think I know what you’re thinking. You feel like it's unfair, right? You must be angry, wondering why no one has recognized someone like you who is sooo talented, right?”

Won Ji-Yeon could only clench her jaws in silence at the sarcastic words. Just then, she finally realized that Bo-Ra had deceived her.

The day when she would join ICU Entertainment to work on a web drama script would never arrive. She would have to spend each and every single day in pain, suffering, and guilt while working a job with a lower salary than her previous job.

“I won’t say anything else. You should think things through and give me a call by tomorrow morning. If you aren’t going to do it, I’ll find someone else.”

The lady then stood up and left the table. Before she walked too far away, she turned around and added, “You have nowhere else to go, right? All's well that ends well, so let’s work together from tomorrow on, okay?”

With that, the lady finally stepped out of the cafe.

The TV hanging on the wall was playing the opening theme song of the three-part drama series Market Place. Won Ji-Yeon covered both her ears in distress as tears rolled down her face.

***

Meanwhile, Ha Jae-Gun’s family had gathered in front of the large TV in the living room. Myung-Ja couldn't stop talking while slicing the apples into bite-size pieces.

“Wow, I can finally see my son at home now. But Jae-In, why are there only three parts? Shouldn’t it be a thirty-episode-long drama series since it’s my son’s work?”

“Mom, seriously. Not all one-act plays are bad. And Ha Jae-Gun doesn’t have any experience writing TV dramas yet, so doing a three-part drama series is a good start for him to get some experience.”

“You guys are so noisy...!” Ha Suk-Jae stood up with an annoyed look.

He thought it would be better for him to watch the show in peace alone on the second floor. Myung-Ja and Ha Jae-In both grabbed him and pulled him down to sit with them.

“Alright, alright. I won’t say anything from now on, so focus on your drama.”

“Mom, you should understand Dad. As long as it’s Ha Jae-Gun’s work, he just goes—”

“I should really just go up.”

“No, Dad! We won’t say a word from now on!”

“I don’t believe you.”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Ha Jae-In was surprised the moment she took a look at the intercom.

“Jae-Gun! Why are you here when you’re so busy?”

“It hasn't started, right? I should join you guys to watch the live broadcast.” Ha Jae-Gun grinned as he crossed the garden and entered the house. As he sat down on the living room floor, his mom pulled him into a delightful hug.

“I like seeing you on TV, but it’s so much better seeing you in person like this. Our son is doing so well. Have you eaten yet?”

“Of course, look at the time now. Ah, it’s starting.”

The logo of Market Place appeared on TV.

Ha Jae-Gun's heart was suddenly filled with a huge sense of accomplishment upon realizing that he was watching his own show with his entire family.

‘Thank you, Elder.’

Ha Jae-Gun bowed slightly and conveyed his appreciation silently. His hands were caressing the thick, old notebook on his legs while reflecting on the meaning of the Great Life that Seo Gun-Woo had been hoping to achieve.