Not long after, Lee So-yeon's door opened.
She had changed into comfortable loungewear and was holding an eco-tote bag printed with a K-pop girl group logo.
She bead at Cassius enthusiastically.
"Oppa! To celebrate my moving in, let treat you to dinner! I know a really good Korean fried chicken place nearby!"
Cassius wanted to refuse, but his stomach gave a traitorous growl.
After days of plain spaghetti and discount groceries, fried chicken sounded like heaven on earth.
"Alright," he said, standing up. "Consider it your welco party."
The "really good Korean fried chicken place" was just a small, greasy spoon two blocks away. The kind that stays open 24 hours.
The shop wasn't big, everything was slightly sticky with grease, but the sll was undeniably seductive.
Even at this hour, the place was lively, filled with a chaotic mix of Korean, English, and Spanish chatter.
The TV in the corner was playing a Korean variety show that no one was watching, with Spanish subtitles running underneath.
Lee So-yeon clearly knew her way around a fried chicken nu. She expertly ordered a half-and-half combo, a side of cheese balls, and two cans of Coke.
While waiting, she looked at Cassius with sparkling eyes.
"Oppa, so you are an actor in Hollywood? Are you famous?"
Cassius took a sip of the complintary iced barley tea and gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"If I was famous, I wouldn't be living in that dump of an apartnt. I just finished a gig playing a paranormal investigator's assistant. Had three lines."
"Wow! Three lines!"
Lee So-yeon was incredibly supportive, clasping her hands to her chest. "That is amazing! Was it a horror movie?"
"Insidious. Directed by Jas Wan."
Cassius tried to keep his tone casual, but he couldn't help feeling a little smug inside.
In the bottom-tier circles he ran in, landing a speaking role on a Jas Wan set was definitely sothing worth bragging about.
"Mwo? Director Jas Wan?!"
Lee So-yeon's eyes went wide, and her voice jumped an octave, causing a table of Korean ajusshis (middle-aged n) next to them to look over.
"He is super famous! The Saw series is legendary! Oppa, you actually worked on his set!"
Cassius felt a bit embarrassed by her enthusiasm and quickly changed the subject.
"What about you? How do you plan to achieve this director dream?"
At the ntion of this, Lee So-yeon got even more excited. Gesturing wildly, she laid out her "Five-Year Plan":
Start with student films at USC, build a portfolio, hit the film festival circuit, win awards, get scouted by a major studio, and finally direct an Oscar-worthy masterpiece...
Cassius listened silently while gnawing on the steaming hot fried chicken that had just arrived.
Crispy skin, juicy at, the perfect kick from the sweet and spicy sauce...
He had to admit, when it ca to curing exhaustion and providing cheap happiness, fried chicken beat Budweiser every ti.
Looking at Lee So-yeon across the table, chatting away with light in her eyes, he felt like he was seeing another version of Shen Man.
Or really, a reflection of everyone who first arrives here carrying a dream.
He just wondered how long it would take for the reality of Los Angeles to stomp out that fire in her eyes.
"Oppa, next ti you go to an audition, can I co learn? I can carry your stuff! Be your temporary assistant!"
Lee So-yeon mumbled through a mouthful of cheese ball.
"Maybe later," Cassius said, dumping a bucket of cold water on her idea. "Most of the ti, I'm just playing a background board or a corpse."
"Corpses have thods too!"
Lee So-yeon looked serious, quoting so line from a film textbook he didn't recognize. "Every shot is important!"
Cassius laughed.
He used to believe that crap too.
Until he realized most directors only cared if the back of his head was round enough.
Walking back to the apartnt after the al, the night breeze carried the lingering scent of fried chicken.
The chirping new roommate beside him brought a noisy vitality to the ho that had felt cold and empty since Shen Man left.
Maybe having a roommate wasn't so bad.
Cassius fished out his keys, opened the stubborn door, and calculated in his head which casting spot he should hit up tomorrow.
The SAG card.
He had to get it.
---
Early the next morning, before the sky was fully light.
Cassius was woken up by rustling sounds outside his door.
He opened the door, hair a ss and eyes barely open.
He saw Lee So-yeon fully dressed, wearing a small backpack, her face practically screaming "Ready for Action."
She looked like an elentary schooler going on a field trip.
"Oppa! Good morning! Can we go now?"
Her English was full of kimchi-flavored energy.
Cassius rubbed his eyes, confused. "Go? Go where?"
"To the set!"
Lee So-yeon looked at him like it was obvious.
"I said I would be your assistant! Help you carry water, hold scripts, talk to the foren... I looked up all the guides online!"
Cassius sighed, feeling a hangover headache coming on even though he hadn't been drinking.
"Listen, So-yeon."
He tried to sound like a rational adult and not a grumpy guy who just woke up.
"First, I didn't get a sweet gig from Rob today. I'm going to Santa Monica to squat on the street and wait for scraps."
"Second, I don't have a script to hold, because I'm probably going to be playing 'Walking Pedestrian Z' or 'Cafe Patron C'."
"Third, and most importantly..."
He paused, pointing at her expensive streetwear hoodie and limited-edition sneakers.
"You go to a place like that dressed like that, you don't look like an assistant. You look like a K-pop idol who got lost. You stick out too much."
"The foren will think you're soft and that you'll lt in the LA sun in five minutes."
Lee So-yeon looked down at her outfit, hesitating, but her eyes remained stubborn.
"I can change clothes! I'm not afraid of the sun! Oppa, just take to see. I promise to be good and quiet. I'll treat it like observing life, gathering material for my art!"
Cassius looked at her big, pleading eyes, then rembered the delicious fried chicken from last night.
Soft.
Fine.
If he was going to drag a burden along, so be it.
Let her see the gritty bottom of the Hollywood dream. Maybe it would sober her up faster.
"Fine," he compromised. "Go change into the plainest, most boring clothes you have. Jeans, solid color T-shirt. Look like a local broke youth."
"And wipe off that makeup. It reflects too much in the sun. It'll blind the picky eyes of the foren."
Thirty minutes later.
The two of them were sitting on a beat-up bus heading to Santa Monica.
Lee So-yeon had indeed changed into a nondescript grey T-shirt and faded jeans.
No makeup, hair in a ponytail.
She finally looked less like an alien.
She hugged her backpack tight. Inside, she had packed water, sunscreen, energy bars, and a thick notebook for recording her "observations of humanity."
"Listen up."
Cassius used the swaying bus ride to give her a crash course: Survival Guide to the Santa Monica Labor Market.
"When we get there, rember these keywords: Low profile. Be sharp. Don't block the way."
"When a foreman or casting assistant shows up, the crowd will swarm them like zombies seeing fresh at. Don't squeeze in with them. You'll get hurt, and you'll piss off the crew. Find a spot on the edge, but make sure they can see your face."
"If—and I an if—there's a gig for Asian faces, I'll raise my hand. Do not shout or try to 'sell' . It looks amateur."
"Most importantly, watch your bag and your phone. That place is a mix of dragons and snakes. If your stuff gets swiped, crying won't bring it back."
"And put away the 'Oppa, Fighting!' K-drama talk. Around here, everyone is 'Hey man' or 'Bro'."
Cassius figured since he ate her chicken and she was paying rent, he might as well dump all his basic knowledge on her.
It wasn't a secret anyway. Anyone who stayed here for a week figured this stuff out.
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