Unexpected Deviation (5)
Finally, he stood side by side with Oh Tae-woo in front of the camera for the first time.
They'd been filming scenes centered on Yoo Jeong-ah, so this was the first chance to sync their timing.
Yoo Jeong-ah hadn't left the set. Still in her Choi Ye-ju costume, she watched from beside Director Choi Hong-rae.
"Detective, we're finally standing together properly in front of the camera."
"Should I just channel the vibe from that fan meeting?"
"That works, or you could let yourself go with a different feel."
"Go easy on me, yeah? Jeong Seo-hoon's a veteran newbie, and I'm just a total rookie here for a quick gig."
"I'll take good care of you."
"That stance makes you even scarier."
The subtle tension between them echoed the petty resentment of a brother irked by the guy his precious little sister had a crush on.
"Standby—cue!"
The camera rolled.
The scenery around Jeong Seo-hoon shifted.
Unnecessary onlookers faded away, replaced by a grand, flashy office as the backdrop.
—Oh Manager.
In that fleeting instant, he sensed Oh Tae-woo floundering in an unfamiliar sensation.
The lens power was undoubtedly exerting its influence on him right now.
I wonder how he sees me... and this space.
'Others described it as their vision narrowing intensely, hyper-focused on me.'
They couldn't perceive the landscape forged by his lens power.
But its existence bred a disorienting incongruity, often manifesting as a visually cramped sense of suffocation.
—Did you get Ye-ju home safe?
Oh Tae-woo's eyes, thrashing in that swamp of unease, suddenly sharpened.
In a split-second too brief for the director to catch, Jeong Seo-hoon caught the feral scent lurking in his pupils.
Instead of words, Oh Tae-woo gave a curt nod.
The narrow, static motion fused with his stoicism, radiating unshakeable trust.
—She's struggling, huh? But you're the only one I can entrust her to besides myself, Manager Oh. Hang in there.
—Not hard.
A short, gruff reply punched out from his stone-faced expression. The timbre evoked an emotionless human weapon.
—Let's go.
Jeong Seo-hoon took the lead, Oh Tae-woo shadowing him silently while instinctively scanning left and right.
"Cut!"
The director's signal rang out, and the power coiling around Jeong Seo-hoon dissipated.
How had this hulking detective processed the abrupt vanishing of that eerie disquiet?
"Uh..."
An uncharacteristically hesitant voice called out from Oh Tae-woo.
"Good work. Short scene, but damn impressive."
"Any weird lights or reflectors on set messing with things?"
"Weird how?"
"When the camera started, felt like a mild hypnosis kicked in outta nowhere. Hard to put into words."
Even Oh Tae-woo seemed frustrated, groping for the right phrasing.
"Probably just camera nerves."
"Nerves... nah, wasn't that."
He cocked his head repeatedly in confusion, then fixed Jeong Seo-hoon with a straight stare.
"You do hypnosis or somethin'?"
Jeong Seo-hoon flashed a sociable smile.
"Me? No way."
'First day was good, that's it.'
Heading to set again today, Oh Tae-woo grumbled inwardly.
'Damn it, regretting the hell outta this. Why'd I bite on that offer and go through all this crap...'
Where stars go, fans follow.
That fanboy impulse had snagged the role, and day one had been solid.
Matched blocking with Yoo Jeong-ah up close, watched her act from inches away, even shyly showed off his own scene.
Yeah, only day one.
From day two, no Yoo Jeong-ah.
'Makes sense, thinking about it.'
She had a packed schedule, no reason to stick around post-wrap.
Without her, the whole set turned drab.
Clinging to this below-minimum-wage grind on his own vacation time? He felt like a total idiot.
'Today's the last one, though.'
His scenes wrapped today.
Jeong Seo-hoon had more filming, but nothing with him.
He parked his massive SUV in the lot and sauntered in with his signature swagger.
His scowl flipped to a grin at an unexpected face.
"Ah, Yoo Jeong-ah?"
"Just dropping by. Last day shooting, right?"
"Yeah, spot on."
"Glad I came. Hope you didn't hold a grudge. Neglecting a fan tailing a star for too long."
"Nah. Few days, tops."
Forgetting his earlier doubts, he inwardly chuckled—good call taking the gig.
"Filming tough?"
Her beaming concern melted his heart like snow.
"Nah, what's tough for me? Just loiter around, glare hard. Lines piled up lately, though—that's the real drag."
Oh Manager was originally a silent extra. Director Choi Hong-rae had tossed in simple lines as a "favor."
Yes. Got it. As you say. Easy stuff, but any line was a noose for an extra.
For Oh Tae-woo? Pure hassle.
"Director's raving about your diction, though. Says you could handle a meatier supporting role next time."
"Aigoo, made good memories with you—I'm good. Silkworm's gotta munch mulberry leaves."
"Even if it's the same drama as me?"
"Sigh, why tempt me like that."
Yoo Jeong-ah burst into merry laughter.
"Last day—fight through it. I'll treat, so dinner with the three of us after."
"To snag a meal on your tab, I'll squeeze every ounce of trigger-pull strength into my acting."
"What kinda line is that? Way too old-school."
The lens power's grip on other actors varied by their capacity and mindset.
Veteran Lee Min-soo had taken the strongest hit so far.
Likely from decades of craft and raw passion for the art.
Juniors or extras with less experience? Barely any reaction.
Oh Tae-woo struck Jeong Seo-hoon as... different.
'He's not acting.'
Just baring his true self like always—no real performance.
Reminded him too much of his own first time as Lee Jin-wook.
Back then, he hadn't acted; he'd simply revealed the self others didn't know.
'If that's his true face... what kinda past did this detective live?'
The more they synced, the more it gnawed at him.
Too keen an edge for a mere long-haul detective against heavy hitters.
Unable to resist, he casually ad-libbed to draw out that pent-up impulse.
—Oh Manager, how many people you killed?
Pure ad-lib, nowhere in the script—but the director held his "cut," watching breath-bated.
Oh Tae-woo's reaction would decide: NG or keeper.
—Why ask that?
A faint crack fissured his emotionless mask.
Peering at the monitor, the director clenched a triumphant fist. This one's a keeper.
—One or two? Useless scrap. Ten-plus? Well-honed blade. Which are you, Oh Manager?
The lens vision laid it bare.
Oh Tae-woo wasn't acting—just unveiling his core, like Jeong Seo-hoon's past self.
Staff mistook it for raw, vivid brilliance. But having walked that path, Jeong Seo-hoon pierced the truth.
—Finest blade there is.
—Good. Means I can keep trusting and wielding you.
—Yes.
A veiled thrill hid in that curt grunt.
The sheer relief of airing a buried secret freely—only one who could indulge without fear would savor it.
Jeong Seo-hoon knew; he'd been there.
—Oh Manager.
Not Yoon Se-hyun's gaze—Jeong Seo-hoon's bored mercilessly into Oh Tae-woo's retinas.
He pictured the man glimpsing his own stripped-bare reflection in those eyes. That'd be fun.
No drive to act earnestly here.
Just basking in the OK to flaunt his hidden self.
That petty satisfaction irked him.
A guy who could soar higher—why settle?
—Keep it up. Just like now. Always.
He hoped the mocking irony, laced subtly, landed.
That faint eyebrow twitch? Riddle decoded, loud and clear.
Oh Tae-woo dipped his head wordlessly again.
"Cut."
The director chatted briefly with the DP, then beckoned the actors over.
"One-second car interior move, and you nailed a razor-edge vibe with ad-libs. Too good to scrap— we're keeping it. But how'd you dream up those lines?"
"Got deep into Yoon Se-hyun; suddenly wondered how many his trusted hound's killed."
"'One or two's a dud tool'—what's that mean exactly?"
"One or two kills? Small-time killer or thug. Can't trust 'em with protection. But ten-plus..."
"Guy with baggage?"
"Yeah."
Jeong Seo-hoon turned calmly to Oh Tae-woo.
"That's the Oh Manager I saw. What about you, detective?"
His eyebrow quivered ever so slightly.
Jeong Seo-hoon could guess the memory flashing through his mind, no peek required.
'Detective's killed too, huh?'
'Knew from the jump.'
'Heh heh... finally owning up?'
Vivid as instant playback storming Oh Tae-woo's skull.
"Ah, well... hopped in as a no-line extra, didn't overthink. But hearing you? Kinda fits."
Even spotting Yoo Jeong-ah approach, his face stayed dim.
"Anyway, my shoots wrapped today. Let's grab chow. Pumped for the drama—gonna watch."
He pivoted to greet her, bright smile blooming.
Pity—it screamed acting.
Three days later, Jeong Seo-hoon's footage wrapped too.
Thanks to the director prioritizing his schedule.
Scenes without him in eps 5-6 flew by swiftly, and soon he got the wrap-party invite.
Oh Tae-woo, glimpsed again after ages, kept stealing covert glances his way.
No jealous fanboy edge from that old scandal.
"NetPrime pre-prod—no real upside even if it blows up, but wishing you a smash! Gotta for big hauls next time! Hahaha!"
Amid the director and cast's cheer, Jeong Seo-hoon deliberately crashed into another of Oh Tae-woo's peeks.
A sly grin her way—he averted smoothly, feigning a casual scan.
Party wrapped; the director dove into pre-air editing.
And at last, the NetPrime premiere date locked in.