Uncle's Affection (4)
After changing into his costume and stepping out, Yoon Jin-won waved cheerfully from the hallway.
"Ah, I just came out too. Looks like we changed at the same time, sunbae."
He was lying.
He'd changed early and been pacing the hallway waiting, pretending he'd only just emerged.
Jeong Seo-hoon briefly debated whether to let it slide or call him out.
"But why are you calling me sunbae? I haven't even been debuting for a full year yet."
"Ah."
His flustered reaction suggested he'd never seriously checked the hierarchy.
Maybe it was the whirlwind buzz around Jeong Seo-hoon's name lately—the string of massive hits and his young age—that had led him to assume seniority subconsciously.
"W-Wait, you debuted less than a year ago?"
"No kidding. You didn't know?"
"Ahh! I-I think I've heard that!"
Suddenly, Jeong Seo-hoon recalled a senior grad student who'd been chewed out by Professor Lee Se-jong before his enlistment for slacking on a research project.
Lee Se-jong's parting words, delivered calmly, had plunged the student into deeper panic.
'You have no interest in getting your PhD.'
"Actor Yoon Jin-won, you have no interest in me."
"No! That's not it at all! I'm sorry, hoobae!"
"Hoobae? Can actors throw around 'hoobae' with the crew once they've got some experience? Man, the child actor world is something else."
"S-Slip of the tongue! I didn't mean to!"
His visibly squirming reaction was oddly amusing.
The fact that it wasn't feigned made it even more intriguing.
"Nephew, if you're this flustered already, how do you plan to handle your uncle's true affection on camera?"
"Ah......"
Only then did Yoon Jin-won realize Jeong Seo-hoon had been lightly teasing him, and he deflated.
With his unusually mature demeanor and weighty speech for his age, it hadn't even crossed his mind that it was playful.
"Um, can I call you hyung?"
"If it's more comfortable, go ahead."
"Can hyung drop the formal speech with me too?"
"This is comfortable for me. We'll sort it out naturally once we're closer."
"Ah, okay."
He's not an easy guy, Yoon Jin-won muttered inwardly before speaking again.
"How do you act so well, hyung?"
"You're doing plenty well yourself, Actor Yoon Jin-won."
"But comparing myself to you keeps killing my confidence."
"It's just this scene that's weighing on you, right? Because you're scared. And that's from trauma too. I have trauma of my own, even if it's different from yours."
"Even someone like you has trauma? Can I ask what it is?"
At that, Jeong Seo-hoon paused and turned to face him.
Yoon Jin-won, intimidated by their nearly 23cm height difference, barely met his gaze.
"Don't rush it. I'll show you soon enough."
***
Yoon Jin-won donned the crimson dragon robe, while Jeong Seo-hoon wore the standard court attire of a grand prince.
The deposed nephew and reigning uncle king had swapped outfits, but it wasn't a mistake—it was deliberate.
Jang Seung-won scanned Jeong Seo-hoon up and down as he approached, silently marveling.
"Wow. The visuals are perfect. Posture too. You look exactly like the rebel king—the rebel king."
The grand prince's robes underscored his traitorous hue to the very end.
Yoon Jin-won's slightly cowed expression matched the image of a perpetually brooding deposed king.
"Good call changing costumes. The composition pops more now. Feels like we'll get something special this time. But don't stress too much, Actor Yoon Jin-won."
Any other historical drama PD would have spoken down to the underage Yoon Jin-won, treating him like a kid.
But Jang Seung-won always used polite honorifics, showing respect.
That respect only added to Yoon Jin-won's burden.
It signaled a thorough, businesslike detachment focused solely on the work.
"Alright, back to positions. Since it's practice, no rehearsal—straight into it."
Jang Seung-won felt a thrilling buzz.
The anticipation that something explosively impactful might emerge anew.
Jeong Seo-hoon fixed his gaze on Yoon Jin-won, who couldn't shake his tension.
The invisible air twisted, the massive lens surging as if eager to pour out the audience's anticipation.
Until now, Yoon Jin-won hadn't shown any special reaction to the lens's power.
Would something change this time?
"Standby—cue!"
The grand prince stepped toward his young nephew with murderous intent.
-Nephew.
Yoon Jin-won suddenly felt his vision darken.
A sticky isolation wrapped around him unpleasantly.
He instinctively tried to glance at the PD, but his body wouldn't obey.
It was a distant sensation etched into his body.
From childhood, waking in a mountain grave—how terrified he'd been.
Too scared of ghosts to look back or sideways, he'd sprinted straight ahead to his rural home.
That memory resurfaced now.
-H-How...... c-could this...... u-uncle...... be...... so...... cruel?
The sudden isolation dredged up that terror in place of his darkened sight.
A mumbling voice—indecipherable, human or ghostly?—continued droning in his ears alone.
Nerves slackened from his body, strength draining from his limbs like sand.
[Snap out of it! Get up!]
Forgotten memories bubbled up relentlessly.
He now recalled: waking in that grave hadn't been from the cold, but from an old man's bellow in his ear.
[Hey! Get up already!]
A gentle pressure on his throat felt oddly soothing.
A cozy urge to drift off forever pierced through by the old man's roar once more.
Where had he heard that voice?
'Teacher Lee Do-geun! The young king's grandfather!'
This bellow was different—from veteran actor Lee Do-geun, playing the young king's grandfather.
Realizing that, Yoon Jin-won shattered the childish king's shell confining him and regained his senses.
His vision snapped clear; the PD's relieved face came into focus first.
"D-Did I...... stay like that the whole time? Is this an NG?"
Realizing he'd collapsed, Yoon Jin-won asked blankly.
"Why would it be NG? It's the scene where he thrashes, choking, until his last breath."
"Ah......"
"You nailed the realism. A stranger would've thought it was a real murder. Seo-hoon, you didn't actually choke him, right?"
"Of course it was just acting."
"Damn, Yoon Jin-won. That choking performance was no joke."
"......"
Yoon Jin-won blinked around at everyone.
The moment of death flickered hazily in his mind.
"Um, PD. Something feels off. It's like I just woke from a deep sleep. I can't remember well."
"Ah, uh. Can you stand?"
"Yes."
Yoon Jin-won sprang up instantly.
No wobbling, no staggering.
Jang Seung-won had him do simple movements, asked questions, checked responses.
"No issues so far. No shortness of breath or fever?"
"None. My head feels super clear."
"Good."
Mentally, at least, he seemed fine.
Jang Seung-won sighed in relief and turned to the manager mom.
"Ma'am, still, better get some counseling just in case. He's at that sensitive age."
"Yes, got it, PD."
"Shall we run the monitor?"
The two actors sat on either side of the PD, reviewing the take.
-I've heard you refuse the tonic this uncle prescribed to the end.
-Don't worry. It won't be that painful.
-I'll send you to your brother's side, so you won't be lonely.
-This uncle will personally see you off at the end.
Yoon Jin-won felt strangely detached.
His thrashing, choking self looked like someone else entirely.
On screen, he flailed until his last breath, then went limp, neck snapping weakly.
-Farewell, Your Majesty.
"......"
Yoon Jin-won stole a glance at Jeong Seo-hoon.
His face and attire matched the on-screen grand prince, but intently watching the monitor felt off-putting.
Their eyes met; Jeong Seo-hoon smiled oddly and spoke.
"Nephew. How was matching breaths with this uncle? To your liking?"
"......I'll never forget it, Uncle."
Yoon Jin-won answered as if entranced; Jang Seung-won clapped in satisfaction.
"See? You can do it anytime, Yoon Jin-won."
"PD, does that mean no more after-school tutoring?"
"Yeah, tutoring's over."
Hearing "over," Yoon Jin-won felt a pang of regret.
That darkened vision and sealed-senses feeling still lingered powerfully.
And today was the end?
'They say over-immersion can make you feel like you're not yourself. Did that happen to me?'
Would he never feel it again?
Until reshooting that scene with Jeong Seo-hoon?
Unable to suppress his regret, Yoon Jin-won kept glancing at him; noticing, Jang Seung-won chuckled silently to himself.
***
While driving the van, manager Ha Tae-soo glanced at Jeong Seo-hoon in the rearview.
His actor was resting his chin, staring out lost in thought.
"What're you thinking so hard about? Got worries?"
"Do I look worried?"
"Doesn't look like you're processing emotions. Feels more personal."
"Not grand enough to call worries."
"So there is something. Dating Yoo Jeong-ah?"
"Just friends and colleagues. Not that."
The comfort from Yoo Jeong-ah had naturally linked to the brigade general's civilian massacre memory.
No more dry-heaving, but the stiff click of the detonation button lingered on his fingertips.
"Hyung, what do you think about me going to grad school?"
"You should, sooner or later. Waste not to let your brains or studies go idle. A handsome actor with an engineering PhD? Boosts your brand value."
"Right after Haegeuk?"
"Grad school right after graduation?"
"Bad idea?"
"Nah...... It's your call, I won't say. I don't know how Korea University's engineering PhD track works."
"If I do it, it'd be an integrated master's-PhD."
"Can you juggle acting and grad school? You said you wanted to take acting more seriously than professoring. Changed your mind?"
Ha Tae-soo asked carefully.
An actor who professors as a hobby vs. a professor who acts as a hobby.
Seem similar, worlds apart.
Especially from his manager's standpoint.
"No. Acting as main gig is still the plan. No change."
The landscapes and sensations the lens power showed and conveyed on camera had become indispensable daily life.
"Phew, relieved. Thought you'd flipped since you brought it up out of nowhere. But you're young anyway—why rush?"
"Better to snag it while my brain's fresh, one year earlier than forget it all and start from scratch. PD said the same: PhD title won't hurt actor fame."
"Fans'll miss you. PhD's cool, but no screen time for a while."
They'd arrived home; parking, Ha Tae-soo searched his phone.
"Fastest track's four years to PhD? Minimize acting, focus on studies those four years?"
"Not rushing. Gotta pace it to not hinder acting. Had a sunbae who took ten years pre-enlistment. Married, parental leave, etc."
"That chill okay?"
"Yeah. Not becoming a prof anyway—just for acting cred. Prioritizing no acting disruption."
Ha Tae-soo figured Jeong Seo-hoon must really want that "PhD actor" title.
He couldn't imagine the true purpose.
'The comet, the link between me and Rashid. It's right next to our university.'
Digging issues persisted; a year on, barricades remained, security tightening.
Lee Se-jong was involved in comet fragment research as a scientist.
Grad school could grant access.
The civilian massacre mission as a soldier.
No choice then, but the weight lingered.
'Beyond experiencing that world as Rashid himself, I want to understand it other ways too. Approaching the comet might help.'
He yearned to see the crashed Gwanak Mountain comet with his own eyes.
To draw near what the lens's power truly yearned to show him.
As if instructing himself, like speaking to Ha Tae-soo, Jeong Seo-hoon said,
"Won't hurt acting long-term. Gotta play the long game."
"I get the mindset. So, no new projects second half this year? Take a break?"
"Why not? Jump on good ones right away."