Aren't You Going to Ask If I'm Still Alive? (1)
There was a saying about waking up to find the world had changed.
The moment Jeong Seo-hoon opened his eyes in the morning, Jeong Su-ryeon boldly shoved a tablet screen in his face.
"Here, open your eyes wide and look. This is the pitiful masses losing their minds over the Private Jeong syndrome."
"Private Jeong? My character's Lee Jin-wook."
"They couldn't go with just Private Lee since that didn't have the ring, so they slapped your real name on it—Private Jeong. Women's forums and men's boards are going nuts right now."
"Why the men's boards?"
"'Why the men's boards?' You really don't get it? Middle-aged guys have more delicate sensibilities than teenage girls. Of course you wouldn't know. Uncle fans don't just cheer for girl groups. Isn't Dad's favorite group a boy band?"
"For real?"
"It's a secret from strict Dad. Anyway."
Jeong Su-ryeon, buzzing with excitement, gave a briefing-style rundown, scrolling through SNS, communities, and message boards.
"Viewer reactions are off the charts. Everyone's freaking out over who that actor playing Lee Jin-wook is. 'Where'd they dig up that mask?'"
"Guess my acting was decent."
"Eh, it wasn't unwatchable. You nailed the emotions without any major flubs."
That was sibling love—never a straight compliment to your face.
Jeong Seo-hoon was forced to scroll through screenshots of reactions hyping him up.
‘……’
It felt strange.
Strangers who didn't know his face, name, or gender were all singing his praises in unison.
He didn't feel like he'd done anything that impressive, so the excessive acclaim felt awkward.
All he'd done was slake a thirst on camera that others couldn't reach.
Yet people were busy lionizing that dark excretion as a god-given talent.
To mask the disconnect, he grumbled on purpose.
"Guess my acting wasn't half bad."
"Yeah, if you squint past those eyes, it was tolerable."
"No hate? Usually when your name gets out, the trolls follow."
"Oh, there's plenty. I saved it in a separate PDF. If you wanna sue later, let me know. But hold off for now—save that for when you're a top star and the fans, no, the public rallies behind you."
"Fans and the public are different?"
"Duh."
Jeong Su-ryeon let out a mocking chuckle, like how do you not know this?
"The public is everyone. Fans are just a slice. You can be worshipped in fandoms all you want, but without public buy-in, you're no megastar. Look at Senior Lee Min-soo. His fan cafe's dead, but everyone knows him."
"Got it, leave it there. I'll check later."
"Just in case—SNS blackout for now. Switch your Insta to private, stat."
"What's Insta?"
"……."
"Kidding. Like I'd miss that. I don't even have an account."
"Damn, you scared me. Facebook? Twitter? YouTube?"
"Nada. Clean slate."
"Handy. Less to manage."
"Oh, I do have a blog."
"What? Pull it up. Gotta scan it."
Jeong Seo-hoon connected to his blog on the tablet.
Jeong Su-ryeon's face twisted like a ship torpedoed at the sight of the complex electromagnetic equation plastered on the front page.
She barely skimmed it for three minutes before her expression sank completely.
Classic engineering major's academic blog.
"This can just sit."
***
Mom had taken the car out today.
Jeong Seo-hoon took a taxi to the studio and immediately sensed the subtle stares pouring from the street as he stepped out.
A far cry from before.
Isn't that the guy?
Looks like him. Uncanny.
Should I say hi? Ask for an autograph?
What if it's not him?
Screw it.
His hypersensitive soldier's instincts picked up the college girls whispering.
The moment they hesitated and edged closer, Jeong Seo-hoon smoothly turned away.
"Um, excuse me…!"
Ignoring the timid voice, he briskly headed the opposite way.
He ducked into the first flashy clothing store that caught his eye.
"Welcome… huh?"
The saleswoman's greeting froze, her eyes widening, pupils dilating.
Before she could clap a hand over her mouth, Jeong Seo-hoon grabbed some sunglasses and a cap, thrusting them forward.
"In a rush. Ring me up."
"Aren't you…?"
"I'm in a hurry. Please hurry."
His urgency leaked a hint of soldier's edge without him realizing.
The saleswoman paled instantly, and Jeong Seo-hoon suddenly recalled Su-ryeon's words.
—Manage your image from now on. One slip early, and it'll haunt you forever.
He flashed the sociable smile he'd practiced in the mirror since returning from the front lines.
"You okay? You look pale."
"Oh! No, I'm fine! Totally fine!"
The cowering woman's face bloomed back to normal in seconds.
Her eyes lost focus slightly, lips parting slackly.
"U-um, are you Private Jeong—no, Private Lee Jin-wook? From Illegal! The new drama!"
"Yes, that's me. Had business nearby. Could you ring these up?"
"Oh gosh, brain fart! Right away!"
Her hands trembled faintly as she fumbled to bag them.
"Just the payment—I'll wear 'em."
"Ah! Got it!"
After paying, Jeong Seo-hoon donned the sunglasses and baseball cap. The saleswoman mustered shy courage.
"S-sorry, but could I get an autograph…?"
"Got a pen?"
"Here! Here!"
Autograph and proof shot done, he left the store—remembering the PD and writer's teasing at the dinner two nights ago.
—Today felt like your last carefree meal out in public. You'll realize it someday.
***
Jeong Seo-hoon reappeared on set, and actors and staff buzzed in surprise.
"Isn't that the Lee Jin-wook actor? What's his name…?"
"Jeong Seo-hoon."
"Right. But didn't he die in episode 2 per the script? Why's he back?"
Veteran staff explained proudly.
"Why? Episode 1 reactions were killer. They're rushing flashback scenes to bump his screen time. Flesh out the character."
"Milking a dead role with flashbacks? That's…."
Some actors' faces soured.
Runtime's fixed.
More lines for one meant fewer for others.
Reviving a corpse via flashbacks? Overkill.
Non-leads naturally eyed Jeong Seo-hoon warily.
Writer Kim Sang-hee isn't the type to resurrect dead characters just for buzz….
Nah, ratings fever might push her.
Damn, what a mess.
***
"Extra shoot for episode 4 tomorrow. Eyes only."
After wrap, Cha Do-jin skimmed the single-page addendum script from staff and smirked.
A scene absent from others' scripts.
"Do-jin, why the grin?"
"See? Told you. Lee Jin-wook won't go down easy. Check it—not a flashback. He's back in 4."
"Wait, they're really resurrecting him? Too far."
His manager scowled too.
Post-episode 1, he'd seen the reactions.
Cha Do-jin's were mostly "Exceeded expectations"—solid for his rep. 100 to 110.
But Jeong Seo-hoon punched way above his no-name weight.
The manager sneered dismissively.
"New mask novelty. Long haul, he'll burn out, acting'll crumble. Writer risking that?"
"So? Protest?"
"Dude, mid-drama derail hits us too. Your problem, our problem."
Cha Do-jin chuckled.
"Derail?"
He recalled syncing with Jeong Seo-hoon.
First read-through, on-set clash—he'd lorded over him.
But once cameras rolled, his view shifted.
Grudgingly, that Lee Jin-wook embodiment matched or topped his own skill.
Even as Lee Jin-wook, I couldn't match that.
Acting pulled him into ragged sync with the guy's rhythm.
Yet results satisfied, breeding complex feelings.
He already acknowledged Jeong Seo-hoon's talent and prowess.
Like him as a person?
Too soon to say.
The root? Probably….
Jealousy?
Galling even to think.
Cha Do-jin eyed the script, spotting Jeong Seo-hoon in makeup.
No script in sight.
Come to think—he'd never seen the guy clutching one.
Confidence it'd all memorized?
If he'd been Gu Je-man, would he outshine me?
Ominous hunch.
Might haunt him till finale.
***
Episode 2 aired, peaking at 14.2% ratings. Lee Jin-wook died.
Viewer reactions burned as hot as the surge—fierce.
Viewers flooded boards, sprawling in despair.
Song Jeong-woo's grin was eviler than ever.
"Aggro pulled."
Aren't You Going to Ask If I'm Still Alive? (2)