The Dog Picks a Side
What pounced on me was an enormous dog.
“……Hello there.”
Woof!
To be precise, it was an animal actor cast as the female lead's dog.
Do regular people actually call this thing a puppy?
No. This wasn't a puppy. This was a dog. Okay, fine, I know dog and puppy mean the same thing—but this was not a puppy.
This guy should be paying taxes.
I was completely overwhelmed by its sheer size and presence.
Was I worried that Woo Jun-seo, who would be getting tackled by this thing multiple times during the shoot later, might get hurt? Like hell. I was terrified—terrified with anticipation. Hey, buddy. When the shoot starts, you give it everything you've got and flatten that Woo Jun-seo guy for me, got it?
So soft.
Apparently oblivious to whatever was going through my head, the dog earnestly licked my face with its slobbery tongue.
The tongue against my skin was softer than I'd expected.
“Wooju!!!”
After a few seconds of lying there taking it, a man who looked like the trainer came sprinting over in a panic.
He grabbed the dog by the leash and tried to drag it away, but the animal let out a mournful little whimper.
Whine.
“Quiet! I'm so sorry, Actor-nim. I'm so sorry. Wooju has never done this before. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No, thankfully. But you might want to keep a firm grip on that leash. He's strong.”
Kyeeing, whine.
“I really am so sorry. He's a large breed—that could have been a serious accident just now. He's never once done this. Really, I sincerely apologize.”
The man apologized over and over, practically in a state of panic.
His apology was far more intense than I'd anticipated, which threw me off at first—but when I noticed the PD and the staff all watching us, I understood exactly how he felt.
If word gets out that the animal actor can't control himself, they'll be cautious about using him.
I'd scraped my palm when I fell, but it only stung a little, so I hid it in my sleeve and did my best to look perfectly fine.
After I insisted a few more times that I was okay, the man finally calmed down and moved to lead the dog away. Or rather, he tried to.
“Wooju, we need to wait over there.”
Kyeeing, whine.
“Jeon Wooju! Are you not listening?!”
Even at the trainer's stern tone, the dog paid him no mind, whimpering as it kept its eyes locked on me.
He really is huge.
Back in the day, some of my guys had asked if they could keep a dog at the office. Hwang Tae-jun had gotten all excited, showing me photos of this dog and that dog, but none of them had been anywhere near this size.
And don't dogs usually listen to their owners?
Contrary to my shallow knowledge on the subject, the dog in front of me let the trainer's words go in one ear and out the other, its gaze fixed squarely on me.
Since it kept whining, I figured I'd just play with it for a bit.
“Looks like waiting was hard on him. We haven't started filming yet, so it's fine.”
“Ha… I'm truly sorry. I know it's hard to believe, but Wooju really is a disciplined boy. He's never once acted like this.”
Well, even a hedgehog thinks its own babies are adorable, as they say.
I didn't want to embarrass the man desperately defending his own child, so I simply nodded and called the dog over.
“Come here.”
Woof!
The dog came bounding back to me with an ecstatic look on its face.
Its whole body vibrated from the insanely fast wagging of its tail. Watching this, the trainer murmured under his breath.
“Wooju really likes you, Actor-nim. I've never seen him like this….”
“Mind if I pet him?”
“Of course! He's had proper bite-inhibition training, so don't worry at all!”
At that, I slowly raised my hand and stroked the dog's back.
The fur was so much softer than I'd expected that it caught me off guard. It felt like some kind of premium towel.
“A border collie with the coat of a golden retriever, huh. I heard they're supposed to be crazy smart.”
Choi Ran, crouched down beside me, marveled at the dog.
So that's what this breed was—broccoli or border collie or whatever.
“Yeah. He's really cute.”
“Seems like he likes you, Oppa.”
While chatting with Choi Ran, my hand had unconsciously stopped moving, and the dog gave a small whine and tapped my arm with its front paw.
I could feel it deliberately holding back its strength so it wouldn't hurt me—which genuinely surprised me. You really are smart, aren't you.
“Pretty.”
Woof!
“Yeah, you're pretty.”
Woof!
Was this… an actual conversation happening right now?
As I kept petting it, the dog spun in happy circles in place for a good while before finally resting its chin on my knee.
Some staff member off in the distance made a huge fuss and started snapping photos, and honestly, it was a lot to take in all at once.
For a long moment, everyone's attention was glued to the adorable dog. And at least one person was not happy about it.
“……What are you doing here, sunbae-nim?”
Woo Jun-seo, who looked like he'd just come back from the makeup chair, stared down at me with obvious displeasure.
Having to look up at that bastard from this position did a number on my pride, I'll admit. But with a dog sleeping on my knee, there was no way I was getting up.
“I came to watch the shoot. I wanted to see you and Ran act in person.”
“Ah, I see.”
Apparently Woo Jun-seo couldn't quite bring himself to bare his teeth at me in front of a crowd, because he just made a sour face and turned away.
As the start of the shoot drew near, the clustered staff began drifting back to their positions one by one. Just as Choi Ran and I were the only ones left happily petting the dog, Woo Jun-seo came back around.
“Ran-ssi, shall we have an actor-to-actor talk?”
“Sorry?”
“People who act should talk among themselves. It's not exactly light conversation….”
Woo Jun-seo shot me a glance, then fixed his eyes back on Choi Ran.
The message was clear: he had no intention of including me among his “people who act.”
There's no way he's picking a fight just to piss me off, right?
Honestly, getting tackled by the dog earlier had more impact than that. If that was his idea of a jab, it wasn't worth my time.
I didn't so much as acknowledge it, just kept my head down.
“By the way, why is your name Wooju?”
Woof!
“You can't talk to humans, can you?”
I kept petting the dog as it panted and flashed what looked like a grin up at me.
When I made it clear I was ignoring him, a little force crept into Woo Jun-seo's voice.
“Ran-ssi. Let's hurry—.”
“Funny how you don't call me sunbae-nim.”
That was when Choi Ran, silent this whole time, finally let the words slip out.
“I'm sorry?”
“You were perfectly happy calling Seul-ho Oppa'sunbae' earlier. Why are you calling me by my name? I've been in this industry a long time too.”
“Ah….”
Woo Jun-seo quickly rearranged his expression and apologized, but after that loaded silence, it didn't exactly land as a sincere one.
“It won't happen again.”
“Forget it. So what did you want to talk about? Just say it here.”
The curtness of her tone seemed to sting his pride a little, because Woo Jun-seo frowned as he spoke.
“Ran-ssi—no, sunbae-nim, you've done plenty of romance, so you know how crucial the chemistry between leads is. It's not just about nailing the takes. Fans these days watch every single behind-the-scenes clip.”
Woo Jun-seo tilted his head toward a camera quietly recording from the corner.
“If the leads chat and bond even when the cameras aren't officially rolling, wouldn't the audience buy into it more? We barely have time to build chemistry with each other, and here you are wasting it gossiping with a supporting actor.”
“Um, I'm right here.”
“……Ha.”
Choi Ran's retort seemed to deflate him. He let out a short sigh and simply turned his back.
He'd retreated on instinct. He knew better than to try winning a war of words against Choi Ran.
Watching Woo Jun-seo's back disappear quickly, Choi Ran said, completely unbothered, “Weird guy. But I got the gist,” in a low whisper.
I'd bet ten thousand won that she'd whispered not out of any consideration for Woo Jun-seo, but purely to avoid getting smacked upside the head by her manager.
“You okay?”
“With what?”
“You have to do romance scenes with that guy. Is it really fine to be that openly at each other's throats?”
“It's acting anyway. What does it matter? It's not like I'm actually going to fall in love with him.”
Choi Ran stroked the dog sleeping on my knee, looking utterly indifferent about the whole thing.
Then, after petting the dog in silence for a long while, her face turned serious.
“The problem is the kiss scene.”
“Is he going to be the one kissing you?”
“Well, yeah, but that part's fine. I close my eyes and I don't have to see his face. The problem is my sister. She is not going to close her eyes.”
It seemed Choi Ran was wrestling with the fact that this would be the first time her sister—who'd become her manager—watched her act, and of all things, in a romance drama.
Her concern was so far out of left field that a laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
“Fair point. That'd bother me too. So how did Yoon end up becoming your manager, anyway?”
Even as I asked, I braced myself for a why would you ask that, we're not even close kind of answer.
But Choi Ran answered without a moment's hesitation, the words pouring out in a stream.
How she'd started as a child actress at eight, living in Seoul without her family because of her parents' greed. How the money she earned had paid her sister's tuition—twelve years her senior—and put her through school.
Her sister Choi Yoon, she said, had been grinding away at grad school, buried in her studies, when she belatedly discovered just how badly her family's neglect had broken her little sister.
The parents still couldn't have cared less about her. And Choi Yoon, stricken with guilt, had said she wanted to make up for all the lost time, dropped everything, and appointed herself Choi Ran's manager.
Apparently their parents had thrown a massive fight over it—you think we sent you to grad school for this?—which had me thinking, so this family's as much of a mess as mine was.
“I told her she didn't have to do it. But she said she'd already learned everything she wanted to thanks to me, and that jobs are hard to come by these days anyway, so what did she have to lose, right?”
“Is that so?”
“But I know she's lying. One of her papers got published somewhere reputable, apparently. So why would someone like that be sitting next to me? She'll stick it out a year, maybe two, then quit.”
“I see.”
“I'm just going to wait and see. She won't last long anyway. How hard can managing be for someone who's only ever sat at a desk studying? Especially a female manager. Do you have any idea how much they get brushed aside?”
“True enough.”
“……And what makes you talk like you know? You don't know anything.”
Choi Ran, who'd been chattering nonstop, finally shot me a glare.
“I've held down a job in the real world too, you know.”
“Barely—you're only two years older than me.”
“There's a lot you don't know, kid.”
“Wow. You sounded like a middle-aged uncle just now.”
That's because I actually am one, kid.
Choi Ran snorted a light laugh, and I petted a different part of the dog—the section she hadn't been stroking.
The dog shivered contentedly.
“But why do you think your sister won't last? Not everyone ends up using their degree to make money, you know.”
I glanced over at Choi Yoon, bustling busily in the distance.
Choi Ran's gaze followed mine and landed on her sister.
“You think she gave up everything just to keep you company. But are you so sure that's how she sees it? The way I look at it, she's having the time of her life. And she's good at it, too.”
“…….”
“Look at her. Running around like that. Look how hardworking she is. That's a talent too, you know.”
She gives as good as her sister does.
At my quiet addendum, Choi Ran pushed her lips out into a pout.
Then, after stroking the dog in silence for a long stretch, she blurted, “I should get going,” and darted off.
Right up until that moment, everything had been perfect.
The puppy on my knee was warm, and the conversation with Choi Ran had been pleasant.
Then, just as I was settling in to enjoy the spectacle of everyone else's acting acrobatics, a problem arose.
“Cut! Ha… let's go again.”
At PD Jang's sigh-laden words, the man holding the leash fidgeted anxiously.
“Wooju, please stop staring at Actor-nim and focus on the scene….”
Even the trainer's voice cracking with emotion had no effect. The dog just kept looking at me.
The scene of the dog walking in step with Choi Ran's heel had been shot flawlessly. But the moment came to the take where he was supposed to spot Woo Jun-seo and pounce, and suddenly he refused to cooperate.
In those big eyes staring straight at me instead of Woo Jun-seo, I could have sworn I read the words I don't like that guy. Or was I imagining it?
Thanks to all this, the glare Woo Jun-seo was leveling at me grew considerably more murderous.
Hm. Now what do I do about this?