Just Take It - Episode 8

The VIP personal shopper suite at the department store was hushed and elegant, and Yun-seul still had no idea why Yi-geon had brought her here.

"Why did you want to come here, exactly?"

"To take proper care of my writer."

"Care?"

"Ms. Min Yun-seul, you're attending the Hansan Media Awards this week, aren't you? It's the first occasion where your name will be made known to the world. If that's the case, you ought to arrive looking your absolute best."

"Ah..."

Only then did Yun-seul grasp the depth of his consideration, and she nodded.

In truth, she had been worrying about exactly this.

This awards ceremony was not simply a place to receive a prize. It was the moment she would face Chairman Jung—her biological father—once again. And it was also the day the photographs would be taken that the media would cite most often when, sometime in the future, the truth of her parentage came to light.

The story of a father and daughter, separated without either knowing the other existed, reuniting so dramatically at an awards ceremony—it had every dramatic element the press could possibly crave.

In her past life, Jung-hee's gaslighting had convinced her that if her existence were revealed, accusations of unfairness would be thrown at the contest and the Chairman would suffer for it. So she had attended the ceremony, then thrown away her award.

But this time, she had not the slightest intention of moving to Jung-hee's tune.

That was why the ceremony mattered so much. Yet she spent all her days holed up in her studio writing scripts, with no real idea how to dress herself up properly—and that had been gnawing at her. Now Yi-geon had stepped in to solve the problem for her.

Before long, the personal shopper appeared carrying a rack crowded with gowns of graceful silhouettes and impeccably modern suits. Among the sea of garments, Yi-geon reached out without a moment's hesitation, like a man who already knew the right answer. Reject or accept—the decision was made at his fingertips in an instant.

"No. This one clashes with Ms. Min Yun-seul's skin tone. And this one makes you look too young—it undercuts the gravity of a writer."

There was not a flicker of doubt in his eye as he chose. This was an era when the concept of personal color analysis hadn't even reached the mainstream, yet he seemed to know with perfect certainty which shades suited her best. It was an aesthetic eye cultivated naturally, from growing up surrounded by beautiful works of art since childhood.

The dressy two-piece suit he finally selected fit her as though it had been tailored for her body. A color that was neither excessive nor fussy—calm yet quietly luxurious—made Yun-seul's clear skin look even more luminous and lifted her whole presence into something quietly intellectual.

When Yun-seul stepped out of the fitting room, she stopped in front of the enormous full-length mirror.

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. The woman in the mirror was so utterly unfamiliar. It was unmistakably her own face, and yet it glowed as if it belonged to someone else.

"Well? I like it on you."

At the satisfaction in Yi-geon's voice, Yun-seul looked back at the mirror. Without meaning to, the corners of her mouth curved upward into a soft line.

"I like it too. I really do."

The instant she beamed, something in Yi-geon's eyes wavered, just barely. It was almost as if he were seeing the ghost of a younger Yun-seul—her bright, unclouded smile from her rookie days—laid over the present.

After driving her home, Yi-geon handed her a single business card before she could step out of the car.

"I've booked the shop for three hours before the ceremony. Stop by. That way you can get your makeup done on the way."

"Diflix's writer care really is the best in the world."

When Yun-seul held up her thumb with a playful grin, Yi-geon let out a low, quiet laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"You're cute."

Thrown by the casual, skin-prickling remark, Yun-seul lost her words entirely.

"Thank you for everything today. Goodbye, CEO Do."

She climbed hurriedly out of the passenger seat, gave a brisk bow, and disappeared.

"Pretending she didn't hear that."

As his hand settled on the wheel, the corner of Yi-geon's mouth slid smoothly upward.

As the car pulled out onto the road, he found himself thinking of her. In his mind's eye, a vivid image took shape: Yun-seul standing in the spotlight at the awards ceremony, radiant.

"...She was mine alone to know."

His fingers tightened quietly around the steering wheel. He could sense it—the pearl buried deep in the mud that only he had ever noticed was about to emerge into the world and blaze blindingly bright. A small part of him regretted it, and at the same time, he could hardly wait.

The Hansan Media Awards were held in lavish splendor in the grand ballroom of one of Seoul's most famous hotels. When Yun-seul reached the entrance, a staff member stepped forward to greet her and ask her name.

"Writer Min Yun-seul. Allow me to show you to your seat."

At the round table the staff member escorted her to, a place card written in elegant calligraphy awaited her. Her seat—for the recipient of the Grand Prize—was at the main table, closest to the stage. The winners of the other categories, already seated, were exchanging stiff, awkward greetings.

"Hello, I'm Min Yun-seul."

With a calm smile, she offered the greeting and took her seat.

Before long, dazzling lights blazed to life, and with the emcee's polished opening remarks, the ceremony began in earnest. Announcements related to the contest rolled on as the course dinner was served. The dishes laid before her were exquisite, but Yun-seul couldn't summon the slightest appetite. Her throat felt firmly sealed shut, tension rising up through it in waves.

She could see Chairman Jung Yoon-joon seated at the head table.

Dad...

The urge to run straight into his arms surged up through her. Beneath the table, Yun-seul clutched the fabric of her skirt and forced the boiling emotion back down. Mercifully, when she stole a sidelong glance at her father, his complexion looked healthy, and a breath of relief escaped her. He had four more years before pancreatic cancer took him from the world.

This time, I'll save you, Dad. I swear it.

She was straining to hold back the tears that welled up with that vow when a familiar face caught her eye, sitting directly beside the Chairman. It was Do Lee-gun. He was chatting with Chairman Jung in easy, natural tones.

Gladness welled up in her, and before she knew it she was staring openly. Sensing her gaze, Yi-geon turned his head and looked back at her. It was far too late to pretend she hadn't been looking, so Yun-seul dipped her head in a small, polite nod. In response, the deep line of Yi-geon's mouth curved gently upward as he gazed steadily back at her.

In that instant, it felt as though the space around him brightened all at once. And she wasn't the only one—throughout the ballroom, dozens of gazes swung toward Yi-geon in unison, as if bound by some unspoken agreement. Yun-seul hastily fixed her eyes straight ahead.

Once the meal ended, the ceremony moved on to its highlight: the presentation of the awards. The encouragement prize, then the excellence prize, then the top excellence prize followed one after another, until only the final order remained—the one that would close the evening.

Thunderous applause crashed down. At the emcee's call, Yun-seul stepped onto the stage and accepted the weighty trophy along with a large panel that announced the prize money in crisp figures: fifty million won.

Click. Click. Click.

The press corps erupted in a furious storm of shutters.

And at that very moment—a brief commotion stirred at the head table.

Chairman Jung had been staring blankly up at Yun-seul on stage when he lost his grip on the wine glass in his hand. Red wine spilled across the pristine white tablecloth.

His posture was identical to her past life down to the smallest detail, and Yun-seul's eyes trembled violently. His gaze—something she had failed to see back then—was now painfully, perfectly clear.

Choking back the tears that threatened to spill over, Yun-seul dropped her eyes to the floor.

Dad recognized me at first sight, didn't he.

The storm of emotions in the Chairman's eyes told her so much. Why hadn't she understood back then? He had been looking at her with an expression so achingly tender it seemed he might burst into tears at any moment.

It was a lie—that your father abandoned you and your mother. He never even knew you'd been born. So when you reach the other side, don't resent him. Hold him close for me, at least once.

Deceived by Jung-hee, she had brushed away her father's every attempt to approach her and sent him off into nothing. If only she had looked a little longer, a little closer into his eyes that day, she would have caught the desperate sincerity swimming in them. The past, in which she had turned away from his heart and offered nothing but resentment, felt so guilty, so unforgivable, that her chest seemed about to tear open.

But thankfully, she had a chance to set everything right.

Beneath the cascade of spotlights, Yun-seul sent Chairman Jung a wordless greeting, filled with every ounce of longing she possessed.

Dad, please wait just a little longer... This time, I'll be the one to hold you, warm and safe.

Her grip tightened hard around the trophy.