Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: First Shoot Today
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We were facing each other and smiling again when a staff member's voice rang out.
“Again!”
Filming started over. It was the same as before, but this time it felt different. The hand caressing my cheek was more assertive. With my eyes closed, unable to see a thing, I could tell just from the touch.
“Cut! Good! Yumi! Check it out!”
Yumi beamed as she dashed over to the screen. I let out a quiet breath. My manager approached before I knew it.
“Good work.”
“It’s only just starting.”
“You’re an odd one.”
My manager patted my shoulder.
“You act like someone who’s done tons of shoots. So natural.”
I chuckled. I had done plenty of filming, after all.
‘As an extra or stuntman.’
Just my back in frame, or only my body—countless times like that. I’d never made a proper appearance on screen.
‘But not anymore.’
My face. My body. Properly captured on camera.
My fingertips tingled once more. I clenched my fist, then relaxed it as Yumi returned. The next scene had her fixing the ribbon on my shirt.
I recalled the sketch from the storyboard and got into position. Yumi flashed me a bright smile.
***
The shoot went off without a hitch. Yumi—who’d complained of feeling off—powered through her scenes like it was nothing.
I watched the monitor from beside her. It was the moment where she hugged me on the sofa like I was a teddy bear.
‘Should I tilt my head a bit more?’
It was decent enough, but that might look even better. Plus, when Yumi rested her hand near my chest, parting her lips just a touch could work nicely.
I spoke up right away.
“Can I part my lips a little?”
The director looked my way.
I demonstrated with a slight parting of my lips.
“Like this.”
“That works.”
“What if I angle my head more? Camera’s coming in from above.”
I glanced at Yumi. She swept her hair back.
“Sure.”
“Got it.”
I rolled my shoulders and headed back to the set. The director grinned.
“Told you to watch—and damn, you deliver.”
Nice director. Hadn’t even started acting proper, and already handing out praise.
I reset my position. Yumi’s hand soon made contact. I tilted my head to match the angle and parted my lips slightly.
“Okay! Perfect!”
Hearing “perfect” never got old. I chuckled, and Yumi said,
“You’re a natural. Child actor or something?”
I shook my head.
“First shoot today.”
“No way. Can’t buy it.”
“Swear.”
Yumi cocked her head.
“Heard you’re a trainee. Kids these days are unreal.”
“Plenty more where that came from.”
Yumi burst into bright laughter and patted my shoulder.
“Making me crack up! Junior knows how to butter up his senior, huh?”
I tilted my head.
“Didn’t butter you up.”
I grinned and whispered,
“Haven’t said a word to please you from start to now.”
Just a joke, of course.
Yumi clapped a hand over her mouth and laughed even harder. I shrugged. No downside to charming a senior.
‘Truth doesn’t matter much.’
What counted was Yumi feeling better.
“Rain had me in a funk, but you turned it around, junior.”
I dipped my head slightly, then lifted it.
“An honor.”
“You got a sister, right?”
That caught me off guard.
“How’d you know?”
“Bet she lays into you plenty.”
No way—had Cha Yeonhwa, the toughest instructor in Seongnam, Gyeonggi-do, possessed Korea’s top female singer Yumi?
“Figured. She’s a tough one?”
I nodded.
‘Kickboxing’s her hobby.’
She hit the gym to blow off study stress. Any hint of rebellion, and she’d break bones—in every sense.
‘Then she became a nurse and withered away from her own stress.’
Guilt lingered bitter on my tongue.
Yumi, oblivious to my mood, kept on laughing like it was the funniest thing.
‘So bright.’
On TV, she came off aloof and charismatic—almost unfamiliar.
“Know the next scene?”
“Yeah. The one where I lie on your lap.”
Yumi smiled brightly and patted her knee. I shook my head, and she said,
“It’s raining.”
I scanned the room for a window. No luck—it was a closed set.
“I really hate rainy days.”
How could she tell it was raining in here? I almost asked but held my tongue. Instinct said she wouldn’t answer.
“Filming restarts!”
I sighed softly and lay back on Yumi’s lap. The stylist approached, fussing with my hair as I closed my eyes.
At standby, Yumi’s hand stroked my face. I’d noticed it before filming, but man...
‘It hurts.’
Vampire concept meant long nails, I guessed. My skin stung sharply.
That’s when it happened.
A sudden flash—then every light snuffed out in an instant. Pitch dark, and murmurs rose around us.
Not total black, though. Smartphone screens flickered on one by one.
‘Lightning?’
I asked Yumi,
“You okay?”
“Huh? I-I... um.”
I took her hand.
“Power outage, looks like. Whoa?”
Something yanked me hard all of a sudden. No time to resist. I opened my eyes to find myself enveloped in something warm and sweetly scented.
‘Damn it.’
Situation dawned on me. Yumi hated the dark—must’ve hugged me tight. Panic attack or whatever. That part was fine.
‘Ow!’
The problem was her suddenly clawing at my back. Why? I sucked in a breath and barely held back the pain. Couldn’t yell at someone in a panic.
Lights flickered back on soon enough. Yumi’s personal manager shouted right away.
“Yumi!”
She’d been scratching away for a while before blinking. I whispered,
“Lights are back.”
Yumi’s eyes shook. Awareness crept in slowly. Then—in one motion—she let go.
“Eek! Sorry!”
Thank goodness. She was back. I exhaled in relief. My back burned like fire.
“Sorry, really sorry! Dark spots trigger my panic attacks! Never grabbed anyone like this—what do I do!”
“It’s fine. Th-thought it was... nope, not fine.”
I clicked my tongue at the sight of my costume, shredded by her nails. Bloodstains on the white shirt.
“Oh god! Blood! I’m so sorry!”
Yumi was genuinely at a loss. Looked like another panic could hit any second.
People rushed over soon.
“Yumi, you okay?”
“I’m fine—but I shredded his back!”
“Oh no!”
Yumi’s manager checked my back and clicked her tongue. My manager arrived next.
“Ambition boy. No, Dowon. You good? Huh?”
Kimchi breath wafted strong.
“Your back’s all scratched up?”
I furrowed my brow.
“Sorry! What now!”
A sigh escaped me. I glanced around. Every staffer stared our way.
I asked the director,
“What about the take?”
“Huh? Everyone! How’s it look?”
A staffer replied.
“Gotta swap out a few lights!”
“Shit!”
I called out immediately.
“Then I’ll take a break.”
The director doffed his cap.
“Yeah. You and Yumi, rest up. Hey, assistant director! Which lights blew?”
I shook my head. Yumi still looked jittery, hands twitching nonstop.
Poor thing.
“Let’s rest for now.”
Yumi nodded.
“Ambition—no, Dowon. You alright?”
How long till he settled on a name?
“I’m good. But how do we fix the costume?”
“Stylist first. Yeah, it’s ripped.”
I stood. Yumi whispered to her manager, glanced my way, mouthed “sorry” once more.
I smiled like it was nothing, and her expression eased a bit.
‘Pain’s no big deal.’
Scars, though—that’d be trouble.
‘Cheat fix it? Wonder if that works.’
Another sigh slipped out. The costumer screamed at my shirt and yanked it off. Hadn’t realized on my back, but it was torn to hell and bloody.
My manager slathered ointment on roughly.
“Didn’t hurt?”
“It did.”
“Didn’t hear you yell?”
The wound stung under his touch. I hunched, but his hands stayed rough.
“Panicking person right there—how could I make a scene?”
“Sudden blackout? Fair reaction.”
“You know why?”
“Huh? It’s famous. Back in her group days, rainy-day car crash. No life risk, but scars stuck. One member quit over it.”
Right.
Yumi’s group had been huge—till the accident killed their peak.
‘Forgot how masterfully she bounced back.’
Aftereffects lingered, huh.
“While we’re at it, grub time.”
My manager handed me a lunchbox and water. I eyed the box, then sneaked a peek at Yumi.
“She’s not eating.”
“Dowon, you wouldn’t get it. Comeback girl singers? Can’t eat jack. Few almonds is a win.”
Weight management.
‘Living like that? Respect.’
I turned to the stylist. She worked silently at the bloodstains.
“How’s it looking?”
“I’ve got twelve glue guns and tape on hand.”
“Shirt scenes are all wrapped, actually.”
Her face lit up.
“For real?”
“Yeah. Gotta change for the next one.”
“How’d you know? Memorized the board?”
I smiled and nodded. She blew me a kiss and hopped up for the next outfit.
My manager watched and shook his head.
“Girls love you, huh?”
“Naturally.”
I passed him my untouched lunchbox.
“I’m handsome.”
“Piss off.”
I grinned wide. We both knew it was a joke.
“Gonna check on Senior Yumi.”
“Why?”
“She’ll still feel bad. Better tell her I’m changing costumes.”
“Yumi’s all image aloof, but she’s a klutz. Sweet and thoughtful.”
“Figured.”
I rose and headed her way. Her head manager tried blocking me midway, but Yumi waved me over.
“Oppa, just five minutes.”
“Yumi. He’s a guy, too. Who knows what he’ll pull.”
Yumi covered her mouth and laughed.
“How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
Yumi tossed her hair back and laughed brightly.
“I’m eight years older.”
Her head manager eyed me dubiously, then stepped aside. I sat beside Yumi. She apologized again.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. You’ve done plenty.”
“You get why, right?”
Yumi lifted the knee blanket draped over her lap. The colorful fabric was riddled with holes.
“Panic hits, I grab something and claw at it. From the crash—got trapped back then.”
She tapped the holes with the back of her hand.
“Once it’s busted, guess it never comes back.”
I shook my head.
“Want me to borrow the stylist noona’s twelve glue guns and tape? Could patch it up.”
Yumi clapped a hand over her mouth and laughed brightly.
“You’ve got a real talent for cheering people up.”
“An honor.”
“Wish I had a little brother like you. I’d spoil you with treats.”
Yumi tugged the holey knee blanket higher.