Unexpected Deviation (2)
“What? Choi Hak-soon’s getting surgery?”
“Yes, we just got word. He sent a selfie in a patient gown with the ID band, even photos of his emergency treatment records.”
A struggling extra actor scraping by on bit parts.
No matter that it was an accident, dropping out right before shooting would leave a bad impression. The anxiety gnawing at him was plain to see in his desperate bid to prove it was true.
Choi Hong-rae rubbed his temples with a heavy sigh.
“Tell him not to worry, focus on recovering. We’ll work together again next time.”
“Got it. So, what about a replacement?”
At assistant director Kim Dae-gil’s question, Choi Hong-rae furrowed his brow even deeper.
“Choi Hak-soon had that big build, that overwhelming presence—perfect for the bodyguard captain. Where am I gonna find another face like that on short notice?”
“We can find extras with a similar vibe easy enough.”
“But none of them have the size. Jeong Seo-hoon’s standing right next to him in two-shots—if they’re shorter, it won’t feel solid at all.”
The bodyguard captain wasn’t a major role. Barely any lines, just set dressing.
His one impactful moment was at the end, collapsing while shielding Jeong Seo-hoon from Oh Jun-ho’s gang— that was the hook for viewers.
“Seo-hoon’s 183 cm, so to look imposing beside him, you need more than average build.”
“C-couldn’t insoles cover the height?”
“No big, mean-looking muscle pig around...?”
Frustrated, Choi Hong-rae muttered to himself, then shot Kim Dae-gil a wry, self-mocking glance.
“It’s a non-speaking part anyway—want me to fill in quick? What do you think?”
“The director? Your face fits perfect, but aren’t you under 180 cm?”
“Insoles.”
“And that gut?”
“Tighten it with a binder—might look ripped?”
“……”
“Hey, I was joking. Don’t look at me like that. I’m desperate here.”
“Sounded way too serious.”
Choi Hong-rae waved his hand dismissively at the air, grumbling, when he spotted a young female staffer glued to the monitor, lost in a video.
“Wasn’t Yoon-jin a B-lister fan?”
“Huh, really?”
“That’s Seo-hoon’s fan meeting recording, right? Paid stream, looks bootlegged... hold up.”
Choi Hong-rae’s eyes sharpened like a predator locking on prey.
He brushed past Kim Dae-gil, striding over to tap staffer Yang Yoon-jin’s shoulder.
“Eek! D-director?”
“Crank the volume, rewind ten seconds. No, back to the start.”
“Pardon?”
“Never mind, just step aside. Quick.”
Like a fox shooed away for a bear eyeing grapes, he nudged her out. Yang Yoon-jin yielded her spot, flustered but compliant.
Choi Hong-rae rewound, then hit play. Volume up.
Kim Dae-gil and Yang Yoon-jin stood silently on either side, watching without a word.
His eyes grew sharper.
That low, sticky timbre—clipped and deliberate—carried an emotion even seasoned actors struggled to nail.
Crappy recording quality, yet Jeong Seo-hoon’s acting pulled you in with magnetic force.
But Choi Hong-rae was holding his breath for the response on the other side.
His media-honed nerves were already primed for the thrill to come.
—Felt so good. That’s all I’ve got left.
Choi Hong-rae’s shoulders trembled.
As if he alone had slipped into a season that wasn’t summer.
He looped the scene over and over, then fixed his fierce gaze on Yang Yoon-jin.
“Yoon-jin. Who’s that guy? Which troupe?”
“Uh, that one just now?”
Her brain stuttered in the unexpected turn before spitting out an answer.
“Huge Yoo Jeong-ah stan.”
“Joking? Don’t care who he fans—troupe? Name?”
“D-detective.”
“Detective’s his name?”
“No no, real detective. Not theater actor.”
Choi Hong-rae’s face blanched yellow, then normalized.
“So he’s a cop by trade?”
“Yes.”
“What’s with the Yoo Jeong-ah fan thing? Why’s a fan of hers at Jeong Seo-hoon’s meet?”
“Came for guest Yoo Jeong-ah. But dug up all Seo-hoon’s dramas too.”
Yang Yoon-jin gave a quick, slightly indignant rundown on Oh Tae-woo.
Choi Hong-rae shook his head wildly, like manic-depressive, then asked again.
“How do I reach him?”
“No clue.”
‘Felt so good. That’s all I’ve got left.’
‘Heh, hee hee... hee hee hee! Huh, ha ha!’
Those eyes, starved for murder to the last—swallowed whole by them, Oh Tae-woo snapped his eyes open.
“……”
The office held only him, dozing in his chair.
He wiped his mouth, then noticed his right hand still quivering.
The dream’s aftershocks lingered, bleeding into reality.
‘That strength...’
The impromptu acting at the fanmeet.
Jeong Seo-hoon had pantomimed shoving a knife into his hand, then slashing his own throat.
Two hands versus one, yet his arm had been dragged limp—that sensation wouldn’t fade.
Unbelievable power, even caught off-guard.
“Next time, arm-wrestle or something?”
He muttered, chuckling.
Rubbing his stiff shoulders, Oh Tae-woo replayed those giggling eyes.
“Acting, huh. What a guy. Not like some serial killer’s soul possessed him.”
Gauging quittin’ time, his phone buzzed.
Unknown number—his eyes sharpened. Clearing his throat, he answered.
‘Anonymous tip?’
“Violent Crimes Unit, Detective Oh Tae-woo.”
—Detective Oh Tae-woo?
Clear, bell-like voice laced with elegant poise. He knew her from the first syllable.
His mouth gaped, tone skyrocketing.
“Yoo Jeong-ah? You’re calling me right now?”
—Yes, it’s Yoo Jeong-ah. How’d you know right away?
“How could I not know your voice? ‘Oh’ from Oh Tae-woo, and bam—recognized.”
—Sudden call startled you? How I got your number...
“Doesn’t matter. You went out of your way for me—thrilled is all.”
—So sweet of you.
A few light exchanges, and twenty minutes vanished.
Oh Tae-woo gaped. Felt like twenty seconds.
—Actually, a director I know wants to meet you.
“Me? Some crime case?”
—No, could you spare time? I’ll buy dinner.
“I’ll make time. Right now works.”
—Really? Now?
“Yoo Jeong-ah calls, I run anywhere, anytime.”
—Texting after hang-up. Oh, the reason...
“See you there.”
—Pfft! Okay.
Oh Tae-woo hung up, clutching his phone anxiously.
Those few seconds waiting for the text dragged eternally.
It arrived—he grabbed his stuff and bolted.
Big.
First thought as the hulking man entered the room.
What beast fit best?
‘Brown bear?’
Tiger, lion, cheetah flashed by—brown bear nailed it.
“Nice to meet you. Choi Hong-rae, directing for meals.”
“Oh Tae-woo, Violent Crimes detective.”
Choi Hong-rae truly felt the line: cop and gangster, one letter apart.
Face wasn’t outright menacing, but the aura shrank you down.
Innate, not cultivated—like a male peacock’s tail.
Meanwhile, Oh Tae-woo inwardly puzzled at Jeong Seo-hoon’s presence.
Yoo Jeong-ah smoothly broke the ice.
“Surprised? Director Choi here had something to say. Meant to explain on the phone...”
“I skipped ahead. Fine by me—no call, no meeting you in person?”
“So thoughtful.”
“Fan heart.”
Choi Hong-rae pictured a massive brown bear rolling belly-up, coquettish before a pretty flamingo.
How different from facing him.
Explained her “Oh, that cute detective?” reaction.
“Uh, Detective Oh.”
“Something to say to me?”
Crescent eyes turned interrogation-room sharp. The temperature plunge nearly shattered the tension.
Choi Hong-rae braced against the pressure.
“Ever thought of acting in a drama?”
“Drama?”
> —I didn’t stab him, for real.
> —What, punk?
Eyes perfect for overlay on such lines—intense disbelief.
Face about to bore holes under that stare.
Probably leveled at criminals’ lame excuses.
Interrogation scene auto-played in his head. Occupational hazard.
“Public servants can’t moonlight.”
“Checked: temporary arts okay. Permit if worried.”
“Never acted. What makes you think? What’s the angle?”
“Saw your fanmeet improv with Seo-hoon.”
“……”
Oh Tae-woo’s gaze slid to Jeong Seo-hoon, who shrugged lightly.
“Director begged, so asked Jeong-ah.”
“My mistake?”
“No no! Not at all!”
Like the growl never happened—bear flops belly-up before flamingo.
Good call asking Yoo Jeong-ah.
“Let’s hear it. But I suck at acting.”
“Easy role. Few lines. Mostly loom intimidating.”
Choi Hong-rae quickly outlined the nameless chaebol bastard lawyer villain’s bodyguard captain.
“Needs to tower beside Seo-hoon, project menace—rare physique. Fanmeet clip hit me: this guy! Sparks flew.”
“Get the simple extra bit, but I’ve never...”
“I’ll cameo too—join me, Detective? Sounds fun.”
Oh Tae-woo bloomed a deep, sincere smile at Yoo Jeong-ah.
“Where stars go, fans follow.”