How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor — Episode 16
After that, they scrapped the original script and reshot the scene using the lines from my ad-lib.
I'd already noticed it when I came to watch the previous shoot, but drama filming took far longer than I'd expected. Even when everything was perfect and got an okay on the first take, they still had to shoot the same scene again from different angles, which meant multiple takes were inevitable.
Wouldn't it be more efficient to just film with several cameras rolling at once?
I'd been thinking that the whole time, but once I was actually the one on camera, I understood. Actors and camera lines couldn't cross paths — that much was a given — and finding the best angle simply demanded repeated takes.
The problem was that the process drained an absurd amount of stamina.
Probably because I'm not a real actor.
Maybe it was because I dropped myself into full immersion the moment the camera rolled, but after take after take, I felt like I was about to collapse. The second we wrapped that day and I got back to the hotel, insomnia or not, I slept like a maniac.
Got ahead of myself and paid for it.
Getting worn down by something I'd assumed was nothing stung my pride a little. Then again, it was unavoidable. Anyone knows that facing one problem customer and facing ten in a row takes a wildly different toll on the body.
One solid take would honestly be easier…
Turns out there's a whole craft built around exactly that — the theater. Granted, I'd never properly seen a stage play in my years as a loan shark, but I could still make the call: the way I wanted to act suited the stage better than a drama set.
I brought this brilliant idea to Choi Ran and was met with a look that said, what kind of garbage is that?
"What are you even saying? Theater is way harder."
"It is?"
"On camera, one 'sorry, my bad' fixes any mistake, right? Way lower risk. You're the first person I've ever met who thinks theater is the easier option."
Choi Ran shook her head like I was hopeless.
"Even veteran actors who've spent years in front of a camera lose their minds the moment they step onto a stage. It's not your usual crew patting you on the back no matter what you screw up — it's strangers who paid good money for a ticket, all of them there for this one moment, right now. That pressure drives people crazy."
"Huh. I guess that's true. So if a stage actor shoots on camera, people call them a genius?"
"Not necessarily."
Choi Ran narrowed her eyes as if recalling someone.
"I once filmed with someone known as an authority in theater. Why? You know this too, Oppa. Act like you're on stage in front of a camera and it reads as fake. Projection's way too big. It's like… nothing fits together. No harmony."
"Complicated."
"I get what you're driving at, though. You're saying a single long take suits you better than cutting line by line, right? But our drama is a rom-com, so what can you do? Nobody shoots rom-coms in one take."
"Then what genres use them?"
"Stuff with a lot of tension. Thrillers, genre pieces, that sort of— wait. Oppa, why are you acting like such a rookie? Sure, you couldn't act to save your life before, but you have more experience than I do."
Her suspicious stare made me flinch inside. But I didn't let a thing show. I answered with a perfectly straight face.
"I told you. The Yoo Seul-ho from before this drama is dead. I'm going to work hard thinking of it as a fresh start. Even the things I used to know — don't trust them."
"So I can trust you?"
"If I don't trust you, who am I supposed to?"
"……"
Choi Ran pushed out her lips. A look I'd been seeing an awful lot of lately.
Feels bad, bugging a kid like this all the time.
Still, I had no option other than talking to her. My manager, Hyun Jin-gae, knew his fair share, but the knowledge and advice of someone actually out there working sets as an actress were on another level entirely. Compared to the intel I'd beaten out of Hyun Jin-gae over those few days, the tips Choi Ran handed me were pure gold — which is why I had no choice but to trail after her like a duckling.
If I'm a bother, I just make it up to her. Easy.
Choi Ran was the type whose insides showed right through her. Anyone could see how serious she was about acting. And I figured as long as I took the craft just as seriously, she wouldn't hate me.
If you want to make big money, you use every resource you've got.
And sure enough, she came through with useful information again.
"Just watching the way you act right now, Oppa, theater isn't for you. On stage you have to go bigger, exaggerate, before the audience gets sucked in. But your acting is so natural it doesn't even feel like acting."
"Yeah. PD Jang did say he liked that about me."
"Because staying understated in front of a camera is genuinely hard. Whether it's stage or drama, hard is hard. Oh, right — and the pay is different."
"What? The pay's different?"
"A play has a fixed number of seats, but anyone with a TV can watch a drama. On top of that, dramas come with serious secondary income — variety shows, commercials, stuff like that — on top of the appearance fee you get upfront."
That settled it. Okay. Drama it is, for me.
I was busily organizing Choi Ran's words in my head when an uninvited guest butted in.
"Seul-ho, come talk script with me for a bit."
Woo Jun-seo.
"Ran, I'm just going to borrow Seul-ho for a second, okay?"
"No, you may not."
"……"
Woo Jun-seo's pride apparently took a hit at being called senior by Choi Ran — a year younger than me, two years younger than him — because after the last shoot he'd requested that everyone start speaking casually with each other. I had no reason to refuse, but Choi Ran stood her ground: You can drop the honorifics, I'll keep mine.
Woo Jun-seo pressed — Come on, use banmal with me. It'll look awkward to everyone else otherwise — and our unyielding Choi Ran replied, I like awkward.
Those two are going to play lovers on screen? Amazing.
Anyway, somewhere in that whole exchange, Woo Jun-seo seemed to have decided I was the easier one to be around. He started talking to me way more often, and we ran lines together with the revised script more and more.
The same guy who'd initially looked at me like this bastard is way too full of himself now seemed pretty satisfied, since the enlarged role of Kang Min-woo had reshaped the male lead into something closer to his own taste. These days he treated me with an easy, whatever, the lead role is mine anyway kind of attitude.
Works for me.
It still burned that he'd made Yoo Seul-ho his prey, but at the end of the day, Woo Jun-seo was the male lead I had to sync up with. If he acted well, the drama wouldn't get torn apart in the comments, and that was how I'd get a shot at my next casting. Honestly, at this point, even if Woo Jun-seo slapped me out of nowhere, I was confident I could smile and smooth it over.
And once the business is done, I'm the one holding the cards.
Same as when I was a loan shark. As long as a customer had only borrowed a little from me and there was no certainty he'd keep coming back, the customer was the boss. But the moment the power flips — and it always does — I could do as I pleased. Woo Jun-seo was no different.
Until then, holding my tongue is the play.
Luckily, Woo Jun-seo only ever threw cute little punches I didn't even need to swallow. At worst he picked fights with words — honestly, getting smacked by a cat walking past would hit harder.
"Ran, I'm gonna talk things over with Jun-seo for a bit."
"Whatever… do as you like."
After placating a visibly sulky Choi Ran, I got up. I led Woo Jun-seo off to a corner of the set, and he — barely keeping his expression in check — furrowed his brow.
"What is her problem, seriously? Was she like that as a kid too?"
"Beats me."
"Ugh, how am I supposed to play lovers with a girl like that? This is legitimately stressful. Zero cooperation, zero professionalism. Ha. I'm worried."
I tossed it back at him lightly.
"You act well enough. What's there to worry about?"
"What good is me acting well when she's like that?"
"Which is exactly why you'll be fine. Stop whining and let's just practice."
"……You sound exactly as bratty as she does."
Woo Jun-seo pouted his lips as he went on.
"I'm the male lead, but Choi Ran trails after you like a puppy, and you're all sweet and cozy with her — then you look at me like I'm a piece of garbage. You're basically ostracizing me."
God, he whines.
A grown man. No way I could coddle him the way Choi Ran did. In my heart of hearts I wanted to smash the back of his head, but this was my season to endure, so I quietly fed him the answer he wanted.
"Hey, am I you? I can't act — what am I supposed to do about that? I have to live like Kang Min-woo even between takes just to pass. I can't flip my expressions on and off in front of the camera the way you do. I have to stay in character as the brother who hates his little brother, or I won't hold up against you on screen."
"Fine, fine. All talk, that's you. This is how you buttered up Choi Ran too, isn't it?"
Woo Jun-seo snorted and spread open his script. Thankfully, from there the whining gave way to actual constructive talk. The way he listened to my suggestions seriously instead of cutting them down with sarcasm genuinely impressed me.
Friendly to a startling degree.
My ad-lib had nudged the male lead's character toward his own preferences — that had to be it. If my growing screen time had started threatening his position, or if I'd become nothing but an obstacle in his scenes, Woo Jun-seo would've dragged his whole crew in that instant and thrown everything he had into taking me down.
Honestly, this change suits me fine.
From a position where I couldn't afford to treat him as a pure enemy, his goodwill was something to be grateful for. It was also simply true that filming got easier once the male lead took a friendly stance toward me.
That was when it happened.
"Oh, what's this? You two were talking over here?"
That unmistakably exaggerated voice shattered our concentration in an instant. I turned my head and saw a man wearing a sly, oily grin.
Park Sang-in.
The bastard who'd recommended Yoo Seul-ho as easy prey.
The moment Woo Jun-seo spotted Park Sang-in, he loosened the posture that had brought him close to me and took a single step back.
I watched that for a moment, weighed it briefly — then moved at once.
"I was just looking for you two any—"
"Sang-in."
"Huh?"
"Sorry, but could you give us some space?"
"Uh…?"
Park Sang-in stared at me with a dopey look, but I didn't smile.
"I've got some acting advice to get from Jun-seo. Give us the room."
I was the one who'd spoken, yet Park Sang-in looked to Woo Jun-seo. Caught in the middle, Woo Jun-seo looked flustered.
Let's see.
Even if I couldn't do a thing about anyone else — Park Sang-in, you were never off the list.
Operation dismantle Woo Jun-seo's crew. Commencing.