I’m Not That Obsessive

Chapter 5

The place I was in was a particularly exclusive neighborhood even within LA’s wealthy area. In other words, it wasn’t a place for tourists. Not if they didn’t want to face discrimination.

At first, I too experienced various forms of disrespect and discrimination, including racist remarks. I can’t say it doesn’t happen now, but it was especially severe back then when I hadn’t even become familiar with the neighbors.

I often thought that all the terrible racists seemed to have gathered in this place.

Of course, I didn’t mind. I had deliberately chosen a neighborhood where Asians were unlikely to be, so their rejection was welcome. Fortunately, as I had hoped, I hadn’t met any Asians in this small neighborhood, nor anyone who recognized me.

It was the first time in about a year that I heard Korean. And they recognized me.

I couldn’t open my eyes. I just couldn’t lower my head that had been casually looking up at the sky.

Ah, why did I have to sit in the outdoor terrace of the cafe? Why did it have to be on the first floor?

Seriously considering whether to pretend not to notice and run away, I raised my immobile hand and put on my sunglasses.

I calmly took a sip of coffee and picked up my phone. Pretending to be busy tapping on the phone screen, I turned and walked away in the opposite direction from where the voices were coming.

“Hello. I’m a fan.”

The woman who followed me to the end, ignoring my efforts, said she was my fan. ‘Was’ a fan, I automatically added the unspoken word in my head.

“Excuse me? I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

The moment Korean slipped out, I realized my mistake. I should have just spoken in English. Pretending not to be Korean might have been forced but it would have been the best option. I must have been moved by hearing Korean after so long. My mother tongue came out without me realizing.

“It is you. Mr. Bae Geon-woo. I was a real fan.”

The woman used the past tense on her second try. Does that mean you’re not a fan now? I wanted to ask, but her companion raised his phone towards me, interrupting my thoughts.

“Don’t take pictures.”

I raised my hand to cover my face, but I still heard the click of a camera. The damn man just apologized with a grin, but calmly captured my face in his photo gallery.

“I really loved the movies you were in. One was on TV just yesterday, you know?”

The couple, as I assumed they were, kept talking about being fans, stirring up my thoughts. It seems my face appeared on Korean broadcasts even yesterday. It’s understandable since all the movies I starred in surpassed ten million viewers.

Anyway, I didn’t want to leave any traces anywhere, so I spoke politely to the man.

“I’m sorry, but please delete the photo.”

“I didn’t take any. You covered your face, so you can’t even tell who it is.”

“Then, show it to me.”

“No. I checked earlier. Your face isn’t visible. Really, I promise.”

His smiling face seemed to hold mockery. Of course, that could just be my perception. In my state of extreme paranoia, even good things looked bad, and bad things looked worse.

“Just show me. Let me see your phone.”

I lowered my voice, not wanting to fight, but that seemed to make me look angrier. The man’s expression gradually distorted.

“Look, I didn’t take anything…”

Just as the situation was about to get serious, someone suddenly appeared and took the phone from the man’s hand.

The man looked up at this someone with a dumbfounded expression, even though his phone had been taken. I was the same.

Why are you showing up here?

Someone a million times more famous than me suddenly appeared.

“You’re in a difficult situation, aren’t you?”

“…Huh?”

“If I’m being rude, tell me right now.”

Mitchell said, handing me the man’s phone. I was surprised, but quickly grabbed the phone, thinking I needed to delete my picture from the man’s gallery immediately. Ridiculously, it was in the middle of video recording. Everything, including my argument with the man, had been recorded.

I deleted the video and went into the photo gallery to delete all the pictures. While I was erasing all traces, even checking the deleted items, Mitchell quietly watched what I was doing.

The man who had claimed to be a fan received his phone back with a bewildered look. He must have recognized Mitchell too.

“If you want to return safely to your homeland, you’d better behave. There are plenty of people here who die without anyone knowing, and foreigners from other countries don’t get much attention. Who’s to say that couldn’t be you? Money can make anything happen.”

Mitchell, who had been speaking to the man, looked at me at the end.

“Translate.”

You might think this is a bland threat only seen in media, but it’s different when the person saying it is Mitchell Cronenwirth. It had far more impact than words from some unknown nobody.

While I had been careful not to treat the man roughly out of concern for my image, Mitchell didn’t care at all. I felt ashamed for trying to maintain what was left of my tattered image.

“This person wants me to tell you…”

I pointed at Mitchell and continued speaking.

“He says he knows plenty of lawyers. Something about image rights in America… Anyway, he says there are countless ways to hit you with massive fines, so it’s better to back off now. Even if not fines, he could harass you with lawsuits.”

I conveyed what I wanted to say, not what Mitchell had said. The man might have understood Mitchell’s English, but who cares? Mitchell’s actions had given me courage.

Fortunately, it seemed he didn’t understand English. The man’s expression darkened right after hearing my words.

“Get lost.”

The short English phrase from Mitchell’s mouth seemed to be understood. The couple, who had hesitated for a moment, turned and left the way they came.

Only after they had completely disappeared did Mitchell’s gaze return to me.

“Why were those people taking pictures of you?”

“…I don’t know. They’re strangers.”

“Do you perhaps enjoy being photographed by strangers?”

“What?”

“Does it excite you when your picture is taken?”

“What the hell are you saying?”

Mitchell shrugged. Then he raised his hand, pointing to his car.

“Those people might be photographing you somewhere else. Get in.”

He wasn’t wrong. Although I wasn’t keen on getting into Mitchell’s car, climbing the hill to get home seemed bothersome, and I was also worried that the couple might be secretly filming from behind.

Reluctantly, I took a step, and I heard the beep of the car unlocking. I got into Mitchell’s car.

***

The long and boring walk became a quick ride in the car.

“But those people from earlier might badmouth you on the internet. They might write in detail about what an unpleasant person you are. They could even make up stories.”

“What does that matter?”

“…”

“I’m asking, what does it matter to me if those bastards talk or not?”

Mitchell turned his body slightly towards me, resting his arm on the steering wheel. I tilted my head, acting arrogant.

“Celebrities and movie actors trade on their image. I’m saying your image might get tarnished.”

“That’s the thinking of the public who like to worry about others, like you. Not me. It’s more efficient to read another script than to deal with each of those people.”

“…”

“You, what kind of mess did you make to run away here? Fraud? Assault?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!”

“Then why are strangers taking your picture?”

“…How should I know?”

“If you don’t know, who would?”

“Maybe… maybe they took it because my face is handsome!”

Mitchell smirked. He wore a sarcastic expression and snorted.

In Korea, saying such things would often be met with praise for honesty, but Mitchell just mocked me. I knew the beauty standards in Korea and America were different, but I had always thought I was above average, so my pride was hurt.

Even by Korean standards, Mitchell is good-looking. Blonde hair, a distinctly masculine jawline typical of foreigners, a high nose bridge below a well-defined T-zone, deep-set eyes. A broad forehead and lips that curl up even when not smiling… Looking closely, his face is perfect without a single flaw. Even his skin is good.

Observing up close the face I had only seen on screens or glanced at casually, while sitting side by side in the car, suddenly made me feel intimidated.

Mitchell had a face so striking it would make even Choi Soo-hyun, known as Korea’s sculpture-like handsome man, cry.

In front of such a man, I had said nonsense about my face being handsome… Ah. I want to hide in a mouse hole!

“Your face isn’t as handsome as down there.”

“…What?”

Mitchell said something out of the blue. Even though I understood what he said immediately, it was something I couldn’t help but question.

A fact I had momentarily forgotten, overshadowed by Mitchell Cronenwirth’s aura, came back to me. That bastard Mitchell is into men…