First CF (1)
Seong-sik held his phone out so Yeon-woo could see the headlines too.
“Hmm. The reporters’ information network is seriously impressive.”
“Hey, you’re talking like this is someone else’s business.”
Seong-sik stared at him, dumbfounded by how casually Yeon-woo spoke, as if none of it concerned him. Watching Yeon-woo’s reaction, Jun-su soon nodded.
“It’s not a bad thing. It’s actually great, so what’s the problem?”
“Yeah, true.”
Seong-sik agreed with Jun-su.
“But there’s got to be a spy among the teachers. How did they get the scores this fast?”
Inside the Summer’s Closet team it was already common knowledge that Yeon-woo was a strong student, yet no one had realized his grades were this high, and the story had never been written up or gone viral before.
After his surprise debut in Summer’s Closet turned him into a rising star, Ryu Yeon-woo had spent roughly half a year in a quiet stretch with nothing but a few variety appearances. The sudden flood of articles was more than enough to set both his fan café and the entire internet ablaze.
“Whew. It’s chaos out there. Absolute chaos.”
Jun-su shook his head as he scrolled through the reactions.
“It’s wild. That this kind of person is my friend.”
They had already been hanging out for two years, yet Seong-sik’s sudden remark made Yeon-woo snort with laughter.
“You’re going back to work now, right? You’ll be moving to Seoul.”
“Yeah. You two are going to college in Seoul anyway.”
Jun-su and Seong-sik both nodded.
“Of course. First we’ll apply to Yonhadae in the Ga group, and even if that doesn’t work out we’ll still go to another in-Seoul school.”
“You’ll make it. Don’t worry.”
Yeon-woo clapped both of them on the back.
“For a while I’ll probably stay in the officetel the agency provides. Come hang out a lot once college starts.”
“Oh! Obviously!”
And so Yeon-woo attended school for one more week before heading back up to Seoul.
He went through the backlog of commercial offers and storyboards, consulted with the company, and accepted a few that fit his image, then began preparing for the shoots.
The short-lived popularity from Summer’s Closet had brought in a wave of ads that later drifted to other talent as his name value cooled. The CSAT controversy had just rocketed “Ryu Yeon-woo” back to the top of the industry’s radar.
An MZ-generation figure who handled every responsibility while still boldly chasing his dreams—exactly the image the market currently craved.
“Hmm. Looking at the terms and the image fit, these two seem like the best choices, right?”
Team Leader Jeong’s words drew nods from every marketing staffer in the meeting—and from Ryu Yeon-woo himself.
“I’m already with that telecom company, and the outdoor brand is one my whole family likes to wear.”
“Oh-ho, then it couldn’t be more perfect.”
Team Leader Jeong smiled at Yeon-woo’s reply.
After careful deliberation, Yeon-woo and the company settled on two commercials: one for a telecom carrier and one for an outdoor brand.
With no other schedule on the books, Yeon-woo simply took the dates the agencies proposed and received the storyboards.
First up was the telecom shoot—a joint campaign for ST Telecom and the main model of their newly released smartphone.
Everything would be filmed on set and against blue screen. Even from the storyboard it had looked like a trendy image piece; once he saw the actual conté, Yeon-woo could feel how deliberately it had been tailored to him.
The van door slid open in the officetel parking garage and Yeon-woo climbed in.
“Min-su hyung! This is our first real schedule.”
“Hahaha. I’m already excited.”
The other managers envied him for “coasting” with a minor actor, but Min-su loved nothing more than heading out to set. Next month the actor he managed would become an adult, and the actor himself was overflowing with drive.
Min-su’s car headed for a studio in Pangyo and pulled up in front of a massive soundstage.
“Welcome. I’ll show you in.”
“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you.”
A staffer in a pressed-down cap, clutching a rolled-up sheaf of papers, hurried over to greet them. Yeon-woo and Min-su followed him onto the set.
From farther back, a man who had been directing the floor spotted Yeon-woo entering and walked over.
He was solidly built, with rough stubble that connected cleanly into his sideburns—Director Lee Yong-su.
Yeon-woo didn’t know much about the commercial world, but on the ride over Min-su had explained that this was a director with decades of bone-deep experience.
“Nice to meet you, Ryu Yeon-woo-ssi. I’m Lee Yong-su.”
He offered a somewhat dry handshake. Yeon-woo brightened, clasped the director’s hand in both of his, and bowed.
“Hello, Director. Looking forward to working with you today. I’m Ryu Yeon-woo.”
The clear smile and cheerful greeting earned a small nod from Director Lee.
Lee Yong-su had seen more than enough rude or arrogant young performers and flash-in-the-pan stars; he generally disliked them. Today’s talent, at least, made a good first impression.
“Nice and spirited. My daughter’s a fan, you know.”
“Is that so? This is my first commercial shoot, so I’ll be learning a lot from you today.”
Wanting to keep the good first meeting rolling all the way through the shoot, Director Lee casually sold out his daughter. In truth she had never said she was a fan, but the kid was a rising star—surely she liked him.
“All right, everyone, attention! Today’s lead is Actor Ryu Yeon-woo. Give him a hand!”
The director’s booming introduction set off a burst of applause from the surrounding crew.
Whoosh—
Waaaah!
A seasoned director pumping up the set and a veteran crew matching his energy—exactly the flexible atmosphere they wanted.
“Hello, everyone. Thank you.”
Yeon-woo bowed toward the whole floor.
“You’ve seen the conté, but our schedule’s pretty tight today. If we want to wrap before we spill into tomorrow, we should start right away…”
“Of course.”
Lee Yong-su called a staffer over and had Yeon-woo shown to the dressing room.
After makeup, Yeon-woo changed into white cotton pants, a clean blue shirt, and a dandy freshman look, then stepped back onto set.
Director Lee flipped through the conté while explaining.
“You’ll be sitting over there studying, then stretch once and grab the smartphone—we’ll hoist you up on wires. After that…”
Yeon-woo listened to the full briefing, mapped the movements in his head, and nodded.
“I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”
He exchanged brief bows with the waiting extras, then took his place at the prepared desk.
“All right, Actor, let’s hook you up.”
Crew members approached and attached wires all over his body.
This scene was set in a university lecture hall: Yeon-woo studying, then grabbing the phone so his body lifts into the air and lies horizontal—right up to the moment CG would transform the surroundings.
“Tight and close-ups later. First we go full shot. When you rise, watch your legs on the desk. Ready—cue!”
Yeon-woo scribbled in a problem book with the prepared mechanical pencil, set it down, and stretched in one natural motion.
“Cut! Yeon-woo-ssi, face a little more toward camera. Okay. Continuing!”
Following the note, Yeon-woo stretched again, turning his face smoothly toward the lens, then picked up the smartphone on the desk.
“Legs first!”
Crew pulled the ropes linked to the ceiling rig.
Yeon-woo’s body rose slowly.
“Extras, look shocked and watch him. Looking good right now.”
Exactly as he had planned, he floated about two meters up, settled into a horizontal pose as if weightless, knees slightly bent, holding himself steady with his core.
“Ohhh, nice! Hold it just a little longer.”
Seeing Yeon-woo defy gravity in a pose that looked completely natural, the director lit up.
“Okay, cut! Lower the wires slowly. Easy, easy!”
Yeon-woo descended; rushing crew carefully caught him.
The director walked over.
“Wow, Yeon-woo-ssi. You’ve got serious strength. That looked completely natural. The posture was perfect.”
“Ah, thank you.”
A body tempered by daily training handled this with ease. After the high-level physical conditioning of his agent days, free control of his body was second nature.
“We still need one more tight shot. Can you do it just like that again?”
“Of course.”
At Yeon-woo’s answer the director called “Okay!” and they rolled again.
Yeon-woo rose into the same pose; a pole cam came in over him and framed his upper body.
Holding the position with only his torso muscles, Yeon-woo smiled with easy composure.
“Looking great. Okay, cut!”
The director clapped and called the okay as Yeon-woo was lowered once more.
“Good. Straight into the next scene. Yeon-woo-ssi and extras, wardrobe change.”
“Yes.”
Staff unhooked the wires; Yeon-woo followed them to wardrobe and changed into the prepared look.
This concept was the complete opposite of the previous scene: black jeans and a leather jacket. The makeup team darkened his eyeliner, turning him into a sharp, intense cold-handsome type.
When he stepped back onto set, the crew murmured in admiration.
“Whoa, now I get why he blew up.”
“He was already handsome earlier, but this vibe fits him perfectly too.”
Through the buzz the director approached and explained the next shot.
“This continues right after the CG transition. You land, hand the phone to an extra, and we follow that hand-off path…”
Yeon-woo had already studied the conté, so he understood at once and nodded.
“Yes, Director.”
They checked the blocking with the extras one more time; a staffer ran a quick rehearsal.
“All right, we’re rolling.”
Like a camera on an idol stage, the DP shouldered a gimbal-mounted camera and waited in front of Yeon-woo.
“High, cue.”