The Sound of Something Snapping
Granted, it was a bit unsettling to see three grown men jockeying for position like concubines squabbling over the empty seat beside the king.
Still, when it came to dealing with a man like Woo Jun-seo, the most important thing was breaking apart the crew that held him up.
Back in my loan shark days, I'd used the exact same playbook on men who'd been introduced to me through their own flunkies.
With a man who lived off his own inflated ego, who never had to watch anyone's face, who condescended as a matter of habit — the first rule was simple: you crawled, unconditionally. You groveled on all fours right out of the gate.
Of course, if you came off as too easy a mark, you risked becoming prey instead, so the trick was to stay somewhere unoffensive while steadily broadcasting a single message: I'm good for you.
Working yourself up from there, inch by inch, until you stood on level ground with him — that was the most critical part of the whole operation.
And I've already delivered value to Woo Jun-seo.
Thanks to my ad-libs, his beloved male lead character had been rewritten into something that actually pleased him.
Unlike Park Sang-in, who'd recommended me as his plaything and walked away with nothing to show for it.
The one who's useful to you right now isn't Park Sang-in. It's me.
It wasn't as if Woo Jun-seo couldn't see that.
But there was no reason to kick his own lackey to the curb in front of me, so he simply said it with a neutral face.
"Sang-in, give us a minute, would you? I've got something to go over with Seul-ho. I'll call you when we're done."
"...Sure. Call me."
Park Sang-in's pride had clearly taken a dent, but he brushed it off with a hearty, unbothered laugh. Even in that moment, he never once glanced my way — spoke only to Woo Jun-seo, then turned and walked off. That alone told you exactly how raw his ego was.
That won't cut the cord between them just yet.
But if this kept happening, a crack was inevitable.
I'd watched it play out a dozen times back when I ran money.
A man who started out far closer to his lackey would grow closer and closer to the "businessman friend" — the loan shark who listened attentively to every word, never acted out of line, and even lent money without a flicker of hesitation.
Unable to go crawling back to the lackey he'd shoved aside himself, he'd find himself in a jam, and the loan shark would rescue him yet again.
And just like that, the power flipped. Miss none of those moments, and the man becomes a customer for life.
Whether I'll end up in that kind of relationship with Woo Jun-seo, who knows.
But one thing was certain: the tighter Park Sang-in and Woo Jun-seo stayed stitched together, the worse it was for Yoo Seul-ho.
After Park Sang-in left, I aimed my final shot at Woo Jun-seo, who was wearing a faintly troubled expression.
"Sorry. Sang-in kind of makes me uncomfortable."
"Huh?"
"You know how bad I am at acting. Sang-in's told me a bunch of times to take lessons from him instead."
I had never once had a private conversation with Park Sang-in in my life. I lied anyway, brazenly.
"It's just... if I'm going to learn acting, I'd rather learn it from you than from him. But Sang-in seemed upset about it — no, uncomfortable, I guess. And to be fair, I get it. From his side, it's obvious. He offers to teach me himself, and then I turn around and go asking you for acting advice. That had to sting."
"Ah..."
Woo Jun-seo scratched at his eyebrow, visibly thrown by a possibility that had never crossed his mind. He didn't look displeased, though. Well — why would he be?
And on some level, he probably thought it was only natural.
"Sang-in's not a bad guy or anything. He was probably just trying to look out for you. It's just, he does... overestimate his own skills a little."
He was ostensibly taking Park Sang-in's side while quietly carving him up, and I nodded along like we were of one mind.
"Right? Honestly, when he first told me to learn acting from him, I figured he'd back off after once or twice. But he kept pushing it — kept saying he was the better actor, so I should take lessons from him specifically."
"Seriously?"
No. Fabricated.
Woo Jun-seo's brow furrowed at my naively delivered lie.
Grown men rarely bother fact-checking each other with things like Hey! Did you seriously tell Yoo Seul-ho that? And even if someone did go digging, by the time that conversation happened, the trust between us would already be in pieces — so it didn't matter either way.
That's enough now.
Pile it on any thicker and I'd start drawing suspicion. When you're inventing stories out of thin air, restraint was everything.
"Ah, forget it."
I put on the face of a man regretting that he'd talked too much without meaning to.
"Somehow I ended up trash-talking Sang-in. Just pretend you didn't hear any of that. Right now, the thing I want most in the world is to get better at acting, and the fact that he can't understand me accepting your help — it honestly hurt a little. Whew. Okay. Back to the script."
"Y-yeah. Right."
After that, I focused on the script like nothing had happened. Woo Jun-seo seemed absorbed in what I'd said too, but every time he spotted Park Sang-in loitering somewhere nearby, a strange expression crossed his face.
I couldn't fully decode the look in his eyes, but the gist of it was unmistakable: You? How dare you?
Unless I was imagining it, I could've sworn I heard something snap.
"Cut!"
PD Jang reviewed the footage we'd just shot and gave it an approving nod.
"Let's grab the close-up before the insert shots. Ah — but Jun-seo's outfit needs a re-iron. It's way too wrinkled."
"Yes, of course! Jun-seo-ssi, over here for a moment, please."
While Woo Jun-seo and the stylist stepped away, I checked the scene we'd just filmed.
Not bad.
Getting that absorbed in a take meant every shoot drained a chunk of my HP, which was a distinctly unpleasant feeling — but the results were tolerable enough that I couldn't complain. I was satisfied.
Best of all, the thawing relationship with Woo Jun-seo was undeniably elevating the scenes. With my scene partner no longer treating me like an invisible man, our rhythm fed off each other, and a newfound steadiness settled over my acting.
PD Jang, who'd clocked all of this faster than anyone, was beaming from ear to ear.
"Seul-ho-ssi, you and Jun-seo have gotten close, huh? Compared to when you first met, you two are basically besties now. Besties!"
He sidled up beside me, whispering, and I gave a light laugh.
"Well, I only got cast thanks to Jun-seo in the first place. The least I can do is treat him well."
"I owe Jun-seo for that one myself. Who would've guessed you could act like this? I've been doing some soul-searching too. Thinking maybe I was looking at you through a pretty narrow lens."
"Can't blame you, PD-nim. You watched it with your own eyes back then. I genuinely lacked the skills — that's where it all came from."
"Seul-ho-ssi, you've... changed a lot, you know that?"
"Sorry?"
The comment came out of nowhere, and I turned my head.
"No, no — even back on that other production, you were quiet and well-behaved. But you were never this humble. It's late to be saying this, but I cursed you out so hard back then. You'd botch a take, not offer a single word of apology to the crew — okay, maybe you weren't a good actor, but that part? That stung. I figured you'd caught a nasty case of celebrity entitlement."
"I probably would've thought the same thing, in your shoes."
"But now... how do I put this."
PD Jang scratched the back of his head.
"It feels like I'm dealing with a grown man."
"Sorry?"
"Back then you were like a kid. Sure, you smiled nicely on cue, but there was something locked up in you. Stiff. The second the camera stopped, I half expected you to burst into tears."
PD Jang's eyes rolled back through some distant memory.
"That pretty boy who's only good for smiling? That's the vibe you gave off."
"Ah..."
"It's not like you're picking a fight, so why am I even saying all this, right? I'm embarrassed, honestly. That's exactly why I wanted to apologize. I clearly have a terrible eye for people."
PD Jang quietly extended his hand.
I grabbed it without missing a beat, and it swayed gently up and down between us.
"Looking forward to working with you, Actor Seul-ho."
"..."
I blanked for a beat at the sudden shift in how he addressed me, then recovered with a quick smile.
"Likewise. I look forward to it."
"We shoot again tomorrow, right? It's a scene that wasn't in the original script, so you won't get much rehearsal time. But your role's grown now, so go easy on us — don't curse us out too hard. Think kindly of us."
"How could I ever curse you out, PD-nim?"
"Those little brats curse me out behind my back plenty — what makes you different? Still, I appreciate you saying it. Those punks do it right to my face, every single day. The little devils. Hmph."
"Excuse me, PD-nim? Did you just call us punks?"
Down the set, the assistant directors turned toward us, eyes narrowed into flat fish glares.
When PD Jang grumbled that the devils had ears all the way up to their skulls, the assistants charged over without a moment's hesitation and walloped him across the back.
They seem close.
For all the sniping, they clearly leaned on each other a great deal. Watching them, the kids back home crossed my mind before I could stop it.
I wonder if they're all doing okay.
The reports from the Heungsinso confirmed the kids were still sharp at their jobs. But a report can't tell you how someone's actually living their life.
Don't get me wrong — I wasn't about to get all gross and sentimental, spouting things like I miss them or I'm worried. It's just... they crossed my mind. That's all.
Live well.
I'm about to make a fortune in this Yoo Seul-ho body, so you bastards better do the same.
I was in the middle of thinking exactly that when—
"Yoo Seul-ho."
"...?"
I turned to find Park Sang-in standing there, his expression stiff around the edges.
The role he'd been cast in this time was a same-age friend who worked part-time jobs alongside the male lead, Kang Min-jun. On paper they even attended the same university, but the lines assigned to him were few and far between.
In today's scene, while Kang Min-jun and I chattered away at each other in high spirits, his entire contribution had been a single line: Um... if you do that here, it's kind of a problem.
I deliberately didn't answer, just stared at him, and his face twisted another notch.
"Let's have a talk. Real quick."
"About what?"
"What do you think? I've got things to say to you."
"We can talk right here."
"That's exactly why we can't talk here."
Park Sang-in scowled like I was being deliberately obtuse, but I answered with perfect calm.
"What could you possibly not say here? Something about Jun-seo?"
"Excuse me?"
"I told you already. I want to learn acting from Jun-seo. I get that you can't bring yourself to respect the guy. But what does that have to do with me? I think Jun-seo is a genuinely great actor. How many more times am I supposed to tell you — I want to learn from him, not from you?"
"...Are you insane? What the hell are you—"
Park Sang-in stared at me like I'd lost my mind.
But before he could finish the sentence, someone cut into the conversation.
"Park Sang-in."
It was Woo Jun-seo, freshly emerged in a sharp designer suit.
I widened my eyes in a picture-perfect show of surprise.
I'd known Woo Jun-seo was approaching behind Park Sang-in — that's precisely why I'd said what I said. But I played ignorant to the very last second.
"Jun-seo! Hey, he just suddenly—"
Woo Jun-seo answered the still-clueless Park Sang-in with a voice like a blade sliding out of its sheath.
"Are you kidding me right now?"
This time, it was no illusion.
Thud.
The sound of a relationship snapping clean in two — I heard it, loud and clear.