A Sad Premonition
With that first take as our starting gun, we tore through the rest of the day's shoot with barely a handful of retakes.
Fortunately, Ahn Soo-jin pulled herself together halfway through and threw herself into the role, and we managed to wrap on something like a high note.
"Um... Ahn Soo-jin sunbae! Please wait!"
The moment filming ended she tried to bolt, and I chased after her. I reached for her shoulder, then stopped short and called her name instead.
Even if I'd gotten used to living as a woman, something leftover from the life I'd spent as a man still made me hesitate to put my hands on another woman's body.
"W-what is it?"
Ahn Soo-jin, who had been about to climb into her car, gave a violent start and turned around.
Her face wasn't merely pale. It had gone white.
"I..."
The look on her face told me I'd made a serious mistake by sinking too deep into character today.
Even if my trait had made me do it without thinking—I was the one who'd activated it. I was the one who couldn't explain it. And even if I did explain it, I'd be the one they called a lunatic.
Three strikes. I bowed deeply at the waist and apologized.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to... that is... your trauma, sunbae..."
"Wait! Let's talk about that inside."
"But..."
I glanced at the man in the driver's seat—her manager, from the look of him.
"Oppa. I need to talk with my junior for a minute. Give us a little time."
"We've got another schedule. If we don't leave now, we'll be late."
"It'll only take a second. Please."
"Aigoo... fine. I'll tell them filming ran a little over."
"Thank you."
A door thunked shut. Once Ahn Soo-jin's manager stepped out, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the car.
Unlike the van I usually rode in, this was an SUV, so we sat side by side.
Silence filled the interior.
I waited for her to say something, but she didn't open her mouth, so I snuck a glance sideways.
She just kept working her lips, opening and closing them without a sound—wanting to speak and unable to get a single word out.
"Is there something you wanted to say to me?"
I spoke first.
"Ah... y-yes. There is. First..."
Ahn Soo-jin pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen, then thrust it in front of my face.
What is this? An autograph?
I looked at the phone she'd held out.
The screen showed a bank account and, laid out in naked numbers, every won she had accumulated from her work so far.
"Why are you showing me..."
Before I could finish asking, she beat me to it.
"This money! I'll give you all of it! Just please keep the fact that I was bullied a secret! I'm begging you! If that past comes out, people will tear me apart!"
How many people would even trash a bullying victim instead of the ones who'd done it? And even if they did, that wouldn't be Ahn Soo-jin's fault.
I couldn't understand why she was so desperate to bury it.
"Why do you want to keep it a secret? Wouldn't it feel so much better to just get it off your chest?"
"Th-that's... you don't get it... I never want to be pointed at again. I never want people laughing at me again."
Ahn Soo-jin squeezed her eyes shut. Even remembering the past was too much.
Now I really wanted to know why.
"If you were carrying that kind of pain, why did you take this drama?"
The lead of The Days We Had—Kang Mirae, the role Ahn Soo-jin was playing—was a girl who endured every kind of harassment and threat from Lee Bohyun, the role I was playing, and still stood her ground, even offering Lee Bohyun forgiveness at the end with a generosity that wide.
A character a hundred and eighty degrees from the woman sitting next to me.
"That's... I wanted to find some courage of my own by taking this role. But then..."
Ahn Soo-jin remembered the performance one actress had given on set. No—it had been so real that cold sweat had poured down her whole body. A genuine delinquent, standing right in front of her.
"Ah—I'm sorry about that. I got too absorbed in the acting. I called you over because I wanted to apologize for it. I'm sorry."
I bowed my head again.
"O-oh. I see. I'll forgive you. But... can you keep what you heard today a secret?"
"A secret...?"
"Yeah. That I was bullied, and that I was trying to find my courage."
"Ah... all right..."
Keeping the bullying a secret I could understand. But even the part about trying to find courage? Something about that smelled like there was a bigger secret buried underneath.
"I understand. Then..."
Right then, the door clicked open.
"Um... Lee Jiwoo-ssi. I'm sorry. We're out of time."
"Ah... yes, we just finished talking. Well then... Ahn Soo-jin-ssi, thank you for the lesson today."
"Ah... yeah. You worked hard too, Jiwoo-ssi."
I watched the SUV start up and pull away, and made a promise to myself.
I'll keep your secret. But... I honestly don't know how long that secret is going to last.
The reason was simple.
"That rumor seems like it's true, right?"
"Thinking about how she looked during today's shoot... yeah, probably."
"The bullying rumor seems legit."
The rumor that Ahn Soo-jin had been a bullying victim was already spreading through the set like it was nothing.
A few days later, the article that took the front page of the entertainment news was Ahn Soo-jin's bullying scandal.
It wasn't a rumor anymore. It had been confirmed as fact, and her three-syllable name was on everyone's lips.
"Is she going to be okay?"
"Jiwoo? Okay about what?"
"No... Ahn Soo-jin sunbae."
"Ah..."
Kang Ho-yeon must have already read the news, because she let out a long sigh.
"More importantly, is today's shoot going to be okay?"
"Hmm... I think it should be fine?"
I wasn't that worried. Even if a problem came up, Ahn Soo-jin's agency would handle it.
A statement went up the moment I refreshed.
Of course. Unless it was a one-person shop, no functioning agency was going to just sit there and do nothing.
"See? Today's shoot shouldn't have any problems."
"Yeah. Still, I don't think we're filming today."
"What? What do you mean?"
A knock came from the van door.
I looked over and saw PD Oh Seok-ho standing there with an awkward expression on his face.
I opened the door, not sure what was going on.
"Ah, Jiwoo-ssi. So... today's shoot is probably going to be postponed."
"What? What do you mean..."
"Did Ahn Soo-jin not show up?"
Kang Ho-yeon's voice cut in.
I wanted to say that couldn't be—but looking at the news, it was possible.
"That's right. We just heard from Ahn Soo-jin's agency. She's not feeling well, so she won't be able to film today. They sent their apologies..."
"Ha... well, nothing we can do. We'll head back, then."
Kang Ho-yeon finished the greetings in my place, shut the door, and we headed for the dorm.
Even after the engine started and we pulled out of the set, I still couldn't wrap my head around what had happened.
"That's a lot of thinking on your face."
Kang Ho-yeon looked at me, her brow furrowed with worry.
"Ah..."
I'd let the worry show without realizing it, and hurriedly smoothed my brow.
"I thought she'd pull through."
I didn't have to say who I meant. Kang Ho-yeon already knew.
"Everyone's different. You're still young, so you might not get it yet, but..."
Kang Ho-yeon poured out life advice without holding back. The truth was, I already knew.
In my past life, I'd seen plenty of people who never overcame their trauma and just gave up. Because of the nature of my old job, I'd had to meet a lot of people and talk to them, and I'd fallen into the trap of thinking I could judge someone just by looking at the surface.
I should have been more careful.
Regretting it now is too late.
I stared out the window without a word.
Tap... tap-tap...
Raindrops started to fall, one by one.
"This is going to come down hard."
Choi Gayeong, the road manager, murmured as she watched the rain pick up.
Yeah... this was going to be a lot.
I could only hope this rain wouldn't become someone else's sadness.
"At this rate, today's shoot would've been called off anyway. It was an outdoor shoot, after all."
That was true. Today's scenes were outdoor ones—ones we could only shoot if the sun was out.
"This might actually be for the best. We're heading to the salon to get you set up again, and today's the last broadcast, right?"
"Yeah. It's already that time."
It was the third PUG game broadcast, and today the game streams would come to an end.
"I heard they posted on the PUG boards that there'd be a Q&A with viewers for today."
"Yeah, that's right. The company already pre-screened the questions. Nothing too sensitive is going to come up."
Sensitive questions? Like whether I had a boyfriend, or what my plans were going forward?
Honestly, I didn't care what they asked. I'd just answer every question as sincerely as I could.
"Just in case, though, show me the questions they sent over in advance."
I'd gotten up early, stopped by the salon to get ready, then arrived at the set and waited for a long time. A normal person would've been drained just from the waiting... but that didn't apply to me. Between the fun of reading the script and thinking about the direction I needed to go, I barely noticed the time passing.
Of course, the moment filming started, every ounce of energy would drain right out of my body.
Haven't you ever had that happen? Physically you're exhausted, but when you're focused on something you love, your stamina feels almost infinite.
"Jiwoo, we're here. Come on, let's get out."
After flying down the highway, we'd finally arrived at the salon. I'd been here this morning too, and coming back again felt strangely new.
"Unnie. I... I didn't even eat lunch because of all the waiting. Can we get food first?"
"Hmm... yeah, let's. We can't have you eating ninety pieces of sushi on stream again."
Meanwhile, at the PUG game broadcast set, staff were rushing around, prepping for the final broadcast.
On one side, people who didn't even look like they belonged there had come onto the floor and were watching something.
"So this is finally the last broadcast."
"I never thought it'd get this popular. If I'd known, we should've just used this actress instead of wasting money on some idol..."
"Ah... you're the ones with that DUI thing?"
"Ahem..."
The people occupying a corner of the set were from various game companies partnered with PUG, or from the HR departments of companies lining up the next collab.
The reason they'd bothered to come all the way here was to snatch up Jiwoo, who'd been a massive hit from the first broadcast all the way through this last one.
PUG's concurrent player count split cleanly into before the broadcast and after.
Before the broadcast, the daily peak had been a mere four to five hundred. After the broadcast, it had jumped to seventeen thousand—roughly a fortyfold increase.
It would've been weirder if other companies weren't drooling.
"Ah... and now even this kind of news is coming out."
Suddenly, one of the HR team leads let out a sigh as he looked at the entertainment news.