On the Drama Set
In an editing suite at MBS, Minseok hovered behind his junior and spent the entire session breathing out little sighs of admiration.
"Senior, how long are you planning to stand there?"
"Just through this scene. Though having too many shots worth using is a problem of its own."
"You really think this is going to land?"
The new approach clearly made the younger editor nervous.
"That's because you weren't on set. And tell me—have you ever seen something flop when Writer Shin and I got the same feeling at the same time?"
"Fine, I'll give you that. But there are weekday shoots too, and I heard the kid, Yujin, is only supposed to film on weekends."
"That's the problem. We had no choice but to lock the initial terms in that way. I was planning to read her mother's reaction and then push for an addendum."
"Then what about this? We sweet-talk her mom into a set visit, and on weekdays we take Yujin along on each half of the couple's schedule. From what I hear, her mother's busy running the restaurant. If we promise we'll look after the kid properly, don't you think she'd say yes?"
The junior offered it up as an idea, and with good reason. Yujin occupied so much of the cut that whether she appeared in the weekday shoots actually mattered.
"You think that'll work?"
"Ow! Why'd you hit me? And the only reason you're standing there is so you can go do exactly that."
The junior's nerve made Minseok waver all over again.
Well, that was part of his job, wasn't it? He had meant to start the persuasion only after the first episode aired, but once the first shoot wrapped, the conviction that Yujin would be the key to the show's success had only grown sharper, and impatience had crept in with it.
"I'm heading out, so make the edit sing, all right?"
He snatched up his coat and went straight to the gimbap shop across from the broadcast station.
"Oh my, Producer, what brings you here?"
"Hello. I wanted to ask how the shoot felt, two days ago."
The lunch rush had just ended and Hyejin was on a break, so the two of them sat down across an empty table and began to talk.
Yujin watched them both from her perch at the counter.
"The truth is, looking back after the last shoot, it seems Yujin's role may turn out to be quite large. So I'd like to propose some additional filming. Would weekdays be possible at all?"
"Ah... the thing is, it's hard for me to free up time on weekdays as well."
"Of course, I know that. That's why I was hoping—if we take the very best care of Yujin, would it be all right for us to bring her to the shoots ourselves?"
Unease crossed Hyejin's face.
"That's... a little difficult. She's still so young, and I wouldn't feel easy leaving her alone somewhere unfamiliar."
"I understand completely. That's why I came with a few proposals. First, we'll assign one of our staff to look after Yujin full-time. And every hour we'll text you a report, photos included."
"Hmm..."
Hyejin hesitated. Minseok quietly took the measure of that pause, then sweetened the offer.
"We'll also pay an extra two hundred dollars for every additional weekday shoot. And as you know, it's good for a child to have all kinds of experiences while they're young. If she only ever stays cooped up in the restaurant, I think Yujin would get restless too.... Watching her have so much fun at the amusement park, even I felt glad."
He dangled money in front of Hyejin, whose household was stretched thin, and nudged at the guilt she carried over Yujin. He had seen her at the amusement park the other day, secretly wiping away tears.
Sure enough, that practiced tongue left Hyejin—still young herself—with little choice but to fold.
"In return, you have to look after her properly."
"Yes, of course. This whole season really does depend on Yujin."
Minseok agreed to draw up an additional contract and stepped out of the restaurant.
The moment he was outside, he placed a call.
"Writer Shin, it's me. Yujin can film on weekdays. Think you can revise the script?"
"Really? Perfect timing—I had something in mind already. I'll rough out a draft and show you."
Minseok hung up wearing a thoroughly satisfied smile.
Wednesday, three days after the amusement park shoot, Lee Yongjun woke to find a camera crew that had let itself in with the door code his manager had handed over.
"Aaaagh! How did you even get in here?"
Every bit of that unfiltered reaction went straight through the lens: the swollen eyes cracking open, the shout at the sight of the crew, all of it caught whole.
Only then did he remember that today was a mid-schedule filming day. He had never imagined they would start it like this. He stared blankly for a moment, then gave up and went to wash.
While Yongjun was shut in the bathroom, the crew slipped something into his bed.
"Call him Dad. You can do it like Sunday, right?"
The youngest-looking member of the crew murmured it toward the blankets.
A little later the water shut off, and Yongjun came out shaking the wet from his hair.
That was when his phone rang.
"Huh?"
He checked it and found a single message waiting.
"Check the bed...?"
Wearing a baffled look, he drifted slowly toward the bedside. With a towel slung around his neck, he lifted the covers, and whatever had been hidden underneath came into view.
"Yujin?"
"Mmm. Good morning, Dad."
It was Yujin. Just as the crew had instructed beforehand, she put on the performance of a child who had only just woken, and Yongjun's face went slack with sheer disbelief.
"Wow. This is actually insane."
His phone chimed again.
He hurried to check, and the new message stood out plain on the screen.
No one had told him a word of this. Flustered, he called his manager.
"The number cannot be reached. After the tone..."
Forget the manager—nothing but a mechanical voice rang in his ear.
Only then did a single thought surface.
I've been had.
The absurdity of it left him at a loss. A few days ago Sung Areum had at least been there with him. Today he was on his own with Yujin, and he still had to get himself to a drama set.
"Dad, I'm hungry."
"Huh? Y-yeah. Dad'll make you something."
Even in the middle of all this, Yujin appealed to his stomach. With no other choice, Yongjun scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen.
He usually replaced breakfast with a little fruit and yogurt, so he stood there wondering what on earth he was supposed to feed a child. Fortunately he found cereal in the cupboard, drowned it in milk, and set the bowl on the table.
Yujin's tiny hands closed around the spoon, and she shoveled a whole mouthful of cereal past her lips.
"Is it good?"
Watching her chew, Yongjun bit into his own apple and asked.
"Uh-huh."
It wasn't as good as her mom's cooking, but it was edible enough, so Yujin nodded.
"After we eat, you're coming with Dad to the drama set. Got it?"
Only when she nodded did Yongjun finally relax enough to stand.
"All right. Time to brush our teeth."
"Eww! It stings!"
Once the meal was done, Yujin was towed along by the hand through tooth-brushing and the rest of getting ready to go out. There was no children's toothpaste, so she put up a fight partway through, but they managed to finish the job.
Down in the underground garage, the schedule van was already waiting.
The driver's seat, where his manager ought to have been, was empty, and a child's car seat had been installed in the back.
Working from the memory of a few days prior, Yongjun settled Yujin into the seat and buckled her in. Then the van pulled out with one staffer tucked into the blind spot of the interior camera, Yujin in the back, and Yongjun himself behind the wheel.
He stole glances at her in the rearview as he drove toward the drama location.
The new project he was stepping into was MBS's historical romance Clouds Embracing the Moon, and Yongjun was a lead. There were three leads in all: one heroine, and two heroes competing over her. Of the two, Yongjun had been cast as the crown prince who, come of marriageable age, meets the heroine among the candidates in the selection of the crown princess.
As they entered the set, the standing scenery began to come into view. People were already moving about in a busy rush.
Yongjun climbed out with no idea how he was supposed to look after Yujin in a place like this.
"Whoa.... It's old-timey people."
Cradled in his arms, Yujin took in the set.
Just then someone recognized him and called a greeting.
"Yongjun, you're here? Oh my, and who is this?"
The woman greeting him was Jang Yonghye, writer of the drama.
"Hello, Writer Jang. You heard we're filming Yes, We're a Couple today, right? The concept this time is parenting. Yujin here is playing my daughter."
"Oh my goodness. How did you end up looking like a little doll? Wait—you were a princess? Aigoo, you're beautiful."
Writer Jang put an auntie's easy warmth to work and gave Yujin's round cheek a light poke.
At the touch of a stranger, Yujin turned shy and buried her face deep in Yongjun's chest.
"She really sticks to you, doesn't she?"
"We went to the amusement park together over the weekend. That's when we got close."
"Still... tsk. Looking at her, I'm getting a little greedy."
"Sorry? Greedy for what?"
Jang Yonghye clicked her tongue softly and studied Yujin.
Ever since filming had begun, one thought had kept circling in her head: on the page, the second male lead's story felt thin, and because of it the drama itself seemed to lack tension. She had been turning over how to fill that gap and give him more weight when Yongjun walked onto the set with Yujin in tow.
And the moment she saw the child, inspiration struck. A way to thicken the second male lead's story rose up clear in her mind. If the narrative was lacking, then she simply had to add more narrative. Among the countless clichés she knew, one in particular came floating to the surface.
"Hold on. I just had a good idea."
With that, Writer Jang turned on her heel and vanished.
"Haa. Yujin, let's just go."
Faced with behavior he couldn't begin to parse, Yongjun decided the dressing room was the safer destination and started walking.
The moment they arrived, the expected barrage of questions came down on him. What was the child doing here, could they hold her just once, was it all right to give her a snack—every scrap of attention in the room swung toward Yujin.
A dressing room staffed mostly by women could hardly help itself. A child as cute as Yujin was bound to become the center of it. The other actors who came through for makeup each paused to stroke her hair on the way past.
While his own makeup was being done, Yongjun watched her in the mirror.
The flood of attention was unfamiliar, but she didn't seem to dislike it. She smiled, shy, from her seat on a woman stylist's lap.
Thanks to that, Yongjun finally caught his breath. When the cameras actually started rolling, he thought, he might be able to leave her with the rest of the staff after all.