Han Minyeong (5)
I decided to leave the song I'd impulsively created entirely in Ahyun's hands. If this track helped her make her full debut as a composer, I couldn't think of anything more worthwhile.
"Let's make up a separate stage name for your composing. Using your real name wouldn't work. If an idol's out there acting and suddenly drops a composition, it'll draw weird looks."
"What're you thinking? Got any ideas?"
"Hmm... gotta brainstorm now?"
There was the hassle of my name getting out there, but more importantly, it could steal the spotlight she deserved. Better to keep mine under wraps and let her shine with a pseudonym. Ahyun seemed intrigued by the idea too.
We mulled it over for ages before settling on something fresh and zesty: Blue & Berry.
With the stage name sorted, the last hurdle was convincing her for co-composer credit.
"What'd I even do to deserve co-composer?"
"You turned the scribbles on that sheet music into a proper track."
"Anyone could do that! Just hand it to someone who knows MIDI software."
"Honestly, who knows when I'll get hit with inspiration like that again. My main gig keeps me too busy for full-time composing. But if it strikes like today, letting those melodies rot would be a waste, right?"
My plan: jot down inspiration-fueled melodies on sheet music, and have Ahyun refine them with music programs.
"Just do it as a favor. No need for co-credit."
But against my wishes, she insisted on doing it for free.
"Once I'm more comfortable with MIDI, it won't take long."
"You'd do this for nothing? We're lovers and all, but favors like that turn into grudges eventually. You think I'll keep dumping songs on you just 'cause you're offering? Let's do co-composer—no pressure on either side."
I flat-out rejected her no-strings offer. The melody on paper mattered, but layering instruments and polish was huge too. Neither of us budged easily, both caring too much about the other.
After a heated back-and-forth, she finally caved.
'Had to threaten to trash all my inspired tracks before she'd accept. Man, what a stubborn one.'
She couldn't hide her guilt and embarrassment.
"I might not be great, but I'll give it my all. So your song doesn't flop."
"Thanks. Who else could I trust like you? Smart move."
From now on, she'd elevate my raw ideas with instruments into something epic.
'Without her, it'd just be scribbles gathering dust. No room in my schedule for composing.'
Plus, it wasn't even Airplane material. It'd have faded into memory quick.
We made a perfect team—mutual support all the way.
'Finally convinced her, so for her sake, inspiration better hustle. But who knows when it'll strike next.'
It hit post-sex, so maybe repeating that'd kickstart it.
Ultimately... 'Sex as the opener, huh.'
Was it just my imagination that my abilities tied so heavily to sex?
Ahyun dove in like her slump never happened, tinkering with my track. No round two for us—I killed time alone before heading back to the dorm.
She pouted in total focus; couldn't bring myself to interrupt. Watching her passion eased any worries about future tracks. She'd nail them for sure.
"This the prop, right?"
"Yeah. Looks close up, but you can tell it's fake."
Today's shoot: me, Kang Jun, and Minyeong noona. My character, student council president Yoo Euntak, gets spotted by Hwang Sangho (Kang Jun) and Kim Jihye (Minyeong) doing something shady.
The perfect 'perfect son' facade cracks—kind, popular guy hides a dark side.
If I'd flubbed the acting, this scene wouldn't exist.
'Nailed it, so my screentime exploded.'
Script tweaks from episode 4? Seemed legit—schedule packed tight.
More shoot days than planned threw me off, but the revised script was way better. Thrills and chills from Euntak's secrets beat plain 'prince hunting' for web drama hype.
'Actors love the changes too.'
Figured screentime grabs would spark drama, but rookies didn't complain to writer or director.
As Euntak, I welcomed the depth.
'Boring playing straight-laced perfect guy.'
Stumbled into villain role, but damn if it didn't excite me. Acting out stuff no normal guy could? Mask of performance made it tempting. No wonder actors get hooked.
"Even up close, it's spot-on. Creepy—can't stare long."
I shook my head at the cat corpse prop and stepped back. Nasty shape, fake blood, glassy dead eyes—knew it was fake, still gave chills.
"Must've cost a fortune."
"You bet."
Staff didn't spill numbers, but reactions said big bucks. Web drama with solid budget? Details like this showed it well-spent.
"Hyung! Fake cat corpse? Eww, gross!"
"Looks real, huh?"
Kang Jun, prepped and screaming at the prop.
"Totally. Close up, fake-ish, but I'd swear real otherwise."
Expected cheap blood bag workaround, but pro prop? High hopes for my role.
'Gotta deliver.'
Maxed acting stat plus theory books—my skills rivaled pros now. Jun's growth spooked me from cheating early, but real shoots killed complacency.
He stepped up instead of jealous—freed me to cheat guilt-free.
'Landed this chance because of it.'
Wait time flew; action.
I smirked watching the cat prop bag-sealed. Hide quality work for censorship.
'Black bag blood smear could've worked.'
Crew obsessed details—needed acting to match.
Lights dim, camera rolls.
Pitch black night, all-black me clutching black bag, street-walking tense, eyes darting, ducking alley.
Rain would've helped; moon lit too bright.
Euntak halts at dim wall—unaware it's by someone who knows him.
"Huh? What's that noise?"
Shunk! Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!
Kim Jihye (Minyeong), sprawled on yard bench in muggy heat, snaps awake at weird sounds. 2 a.m.—enough to fray sleepless nerves.
"Drunk uncle pissing on the wall again?"
Common drunk pee spots. Eyes fierce, she creeps quiet—catch 'em red-handed.
But at the source...
Shunk! Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!
'W-what the hell?'
Hand over mouth, she gapes: black-clad, masked, hatted man hunched over ground. Buried something already.
Normally yell, but instinct screamed don't.
'C-call cops?'
Then—
'Gasp!!'
Slipped hat reveals face—eyes bulge. Breath held, she sneaks home.
'What did I just see?'
Chilling aura, but face too familiar. No mistaking.
'Yoo Euntak. Student council president.'
That peerless pretty boy face—uncopyable. Kind, smart, handsome perfect guy burying secret at midnight? How to process?
Jihye skips cops, sleepless night.
'Just check what he buried. Might be nothing.'
Too scary for night; morning dig at wall.
"Hah, scary as shit. Call cops to dig?"
"Whatcha doing?"
"MOMMY!!!"
"Whoa! Scared me."
Heart dropping, Jihye glares at crouched Hwang Sangho behind her.
"You nearly killed me!!!"
"Steaming mad morning brew? And what kid?"
"Argh! Scram! Not in the mood."
"You're sus. Digging weekend morning?"
Sweatsuit Sangho (post-run?) won't budge. Jihye hands trowel.
"Don't wanna? Dig yourself."
"...Me?"
"Hate it? Bye."
"Fine, digging. What's buried?"
Grumbling, he squats and digs. Black bag emerges—both pinch noses.