Autumn Festival (4)
"Looks good. Let's wrap it up here."
"Phew... finally done."
The long, grueling shoot was over. I took the phone off the tripod and stretched my arms wide with a satisfying groan. Crack. A dull pop echoed from my joints, like bones grinding back into place. I'd held awkward poses for perfect angles, and now every muscle and joint in my body was screaming in protest.
It was just a one-minute short-form video, but to get the best take possible, we'd reshot it dozens of times over nearly an hour. I was drained, on the verge of collapse. The booze had made the early takes clunky, wasting time—that was the real regret.
"Hmm... yeah, this should work."
"Good. Can't do any more."
Kim Ye-eun nodded in satisfaction. As a pro influencer, her standards were razor-sharp. What looked fine to me got picked apart as awkward, and we'd shuffled positions multiple times hunting for the ideal backdrop. We'd done about three different dances, but without music, it was hard to tell what short-form style she was going for.
I'll figure it out when I see the edit later...
After reviewing the footage a couple more times, her eyes lit up as she made me an offer.
"Seriously, no interest in collabing on videos? Min-jun barely helps anymore. This footage is too good to waste. I'll pay you well."
"Nah, too much hassle. And you know I don't need the cash."
"Ugh... that sounded so smug."
She shot me a sour look, but it was just the truth. Most of my expenses were food and booze—no lavish spending. Tutoring covered me fine. Helping her out had been a whim, pure curiosity. But repeating the same moves for shots? Not my thing. Photos, maybe.
"Sent the money."
"Thanks."
Of course, I wasn't turning down cash. It matched a full two-hour session twice a week— for just one hour's work.
Hmm...
I'd told myself no, but seeing the number pop up made me waver for a second. Then I shook my head and locked the screen. Not my calling, and I didn't want extra gigs.
"Tch..."
She clicked her tongue at my reaction. Sending the money upfront? Classic Ye-eun ploy to hook me. That woman was terrifying. A chill ran down my spine, and to escape faster, I cut to the chase.
"No more shooting?"
"Nope. That's it."
"How you heading back?"
"Hmm... crash at your place? Haven't hung there in ages."
She grinned mischievously. I always felt drained around her and usually said no—but tonight, my place was overrun with zombies already.
"Can't. Got guests. Barely snuck out as it is."
"Fine, whatever. Playing hard to get. Just kidding anyway."
She puffed her cheeks in mock sulk. I led her to the taxi stand. Last bus was gone; taxis only. Lucky—a lone one waited amid the post-festival exodus.
"Get home safe."
"Will do. Thanks."
She waved lightly, hopped in, and shut the door. I snapped a quick pic of the plate, then headed home.
Monday morning lecture, heralding the week's start. The class still lingered in festival heat and weekend haze, barely focusing. Even the prof snapped a few times.
"You there—pay attention."
"Sorry."
I ducked my head at the callout. Guilty as charged, but not for festival vibes.
"......"
Unlike usual, Kim Seo-yeon sat apart, shooting icy glares mid-lecture. Her eyes brimmed with resentment and hurt.
My classmate in the seat next to hers whispered cautiously.
"Dude, you two fight last week? Her eyes are lasering you."
"...Don't ask. I'm tired."
I knew the cause etched in my brain, but explaining to an outsider? Impossible. Instead, I slipped him a wrapped homemade chocolate cookie.
"Cool. I'll focus now."
He pocketed it quick, zipping his lips with a sly smirk. Obvious what he thought—me and Seo-yeon? Nah. No need to correct; truth hurts less unspoken.
Kim Seo-yeon was the main heroine for the novel's protagonist, Kang Min-jun. Our tie? Just university friends via him. Nothing more. She had a slight crush on him per canon, and I'd never eyed her romantically.
She's a novel character from the start...
I glanced sideways.
If not for this cursed red status window blinking in my vision's corner. If not shackled by the deadline. I wouldn't have bothered aiming for Min-jun's university, forcing into the plot, mingling with characters. Just quiet breaths, peaceful second life.
All futile thoughts...
Digging into this unfair reality yielded no answers, just sinking mood. I shut down the daydreams, focusing on the immediate fix.
I tilted my head, peeking at Seo-yeon diagonally. Our eyes met; she flinched, then whipped a frosty glare to the board.
No positive spin made reconciliation easy. Stifling tension choked me, chest heavy as stone.
The cause of our cold war? Undeniably mine.
Festival's last night. Helping Ye-eun shoot outside, heading home buzzed. Sentimental mood hit—glancing at novel folks, tightening lifeline. My desperate flailing felt pathetic.
Reached home, opened door—and hit with horror.
A vile stench assaulted—vomit mixed with stomach acid, indescribable rot. Fluorescent puke splattered floor, my precious bedding everywhere. And there, half-sober, gloved up with tissues and wipes: Kim Seo-yeon scrubbing.
The gruesome scene plus lingering buzz snapped my reason. No assessment—I yelled.
Why clean alone if disaster? Call me outside! What were you doing?!
- I called. Over and over.
- What?
- I called you to hurry! Texts, calls—you didn't pick up...
Tears plopped from her eyes. Panicking, I checked my silenced phone—dozens of missed calls, urgent texts. Ye-eun's shoot needed quiet mode.
- Sorry... phone was on silent for work...
- Save it. No excuses.
Before I could apologize properly, she flung gloves, grabbed bags, stormed out.
From that suffocating moment, through weekend to now: unilateral cold war.
I'd hoped her temper cooled post-weekend.
"......"
But stabbing the pen at the board? No natural thaw.
Can't let this drag.
Beyond friendship, for my cursed system's life extension—key character like her? Urgent repair needed.
Dodging prof's eyes, I opened my dense file: novel plot, character details. Scanned for ice-melters—sweet dessert? Pretty spot for mood boost? Any means to sit one-on-one, sincere apology.
Ah, there it is.
Finally, a perfect line.
Kim Ye-eun Taking the Challenge (Image)
