Chapter 15.2

Chapter 15.2

The bathroom door opened with a loud creak from the hinges. André wiped the expression from his face and looked up. Miran, with a flushed face, carefully closed the bathroom door and approached him. Having changed her clothes in the meantime, she hesitantly sat down across from him with the table between them.

André reluctantly acknowledged that she was quite beautiful. Even the dim lighting couldn’t hide that fact.

Although the standards of beauty in the West and the East were different, André’s opinion was different. A person considered beautiful in Korea was also beautiful by Western standards. However, since the spectrum of beauty standards in the West was broader, even if someone didn’t meet the universal standards of beauty, the mere fact that they were different or new was considered beautiful.

In Miran’s case, she fell into the former category. She was the type who would be called a universal beauty regardless of where she stood. Her relatively tall height, voluptuous figure, well-defined and graceful features, and flawless skin certainly drew attention.

Despite her awkward demeanor and lack of coquettishness, she exuded a strangely sensual atmosphere that appealed to primal instincts. This made it understandable that her profession was acting.

‘Is this a clichéd seduction, or does she really need a practice partner for the script?’

If André had been in New York, and if she had known his last name, he would have probably stormed out of this place. The purpose of her approach would have been obvious.

But this was Korea. Miran didn’t know who he was. Even if he told her his last name, it would mean nothing to her. So, it must be true that she needed a practice partner for the script.

However, he hadn’t yet decided to play along with this charade.

“An adult film. So, you’re a pornography actress?”

Miran’s jaw dropped, and her fingers intertwined in a nervous gesture. Her face contorted in indignation.

“What did you say? P, pornography? Are you crazy?”

André’s eyes narrowed, and he fixed her with a sharp gaze. Under his unblinking stare, Miran’s face turned red like a ripe fruit, and her mouth seemed to dry up. It was as if the juice was about to burst out, and the sweetness was palpable.

‘Is she angry or embarrassed?’

Either way, it was quite a sight to behold.

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course not! I’m not that kind of actress!”

Miran shouted. Then, in a subdued voice, she muttered as if making an excuse.

“Well… I admit that just reading the script might give that impression. But it’s really not that kind of film. It’s a ‘Korean noir’ movie with a gangster as the protagonist, and it’s the new work of Director Jung Byungjin, who won an award at the San Sebastián Film Festival two years ago.”

Miran let out a deep sigh, poured soju into an empty glass, and downed it in one gulp. André also picked up his glass from the table and slowly let the strong soju slide down his throat.

“It’s a minor role, but it’s the first audition I’ve passed since graduating from college. The director said it’s a necessary scene for the film. He promised to shoot it artistically…”

Miran’s voice trailed off, lacking confidence. Then she looked at him with desperate eyes.

“So, please help me.”

After her whispered plea, a tense silence filled the space between them. The ticking of the wall clock’s second hand sounded unusually loud.

André, who had been watching Miran for a while, picked up the soju bottle and filled the empty glasses in front of them. The light blue soju bottle was now completely empty.

André confirmed that what Miran wanted was simply to practice the script. But why had she chosen a complete stranger, a foreigner, as her practice partner? He tapped his fingers on the wooden table.

‘Does she not have a suitable partner to practice such a scene with? Like a boyfriend, perhaps?’

If that were the case, the fact that he was someone she would see only once and the low likelihood of any gossip arising would have worked conveniently for her.

The problem was himself.

‘Is that really all she wants from me?’

André downed the tasteless soju in one gulp. The strong liquor burned its way down his throat. He was wavering.

The foreign woman looked at him with clear eyes, seemingly unaware of how dangerous it was to make such a request to a man she had just met. Facing such a woman, André felt the temptation of selfish pleasure, almost within his grasp if he just reached out.