Chapter 12
This year, I turned thirty.
Honestly, I was past the age where I’d go chasing after celebrities just because I was curious or wanted to see them up close.
I didn’t have a favorite idol, and I wasn’t especially interested in the entertainment industry to begin with.
Besides, the nature of my job in advertising meant that, sooner or later, I’d naturally end up crossing paths with celebrities anyway.
So it wasn’t that I felt any particular awe or mystery about the entertainment world.
It was more a simple curiosity about what drama and film sets were like, compared to the commercial shoots I always did in studios.
To be blunt, the decisive reason I’d decided to try a part-time extra job was this.
"I figured it would be fun."
Even when our company filmed ads, more than ninety percent of the work happened inside a studio.
So this was really just a chance to see what it was like to work outdoors, on an actual location shoot.
“Hello, I saw the posting and called. My height? 183 centimeters, average build. Yes, I have a full-time job, and this is a side gig. Tomorrow? That works. Then I’ll be there by that time...”
Saturday, 3:00 p.m.
A small office in Mapo.
The sign out front proudly read HFS Entertainment, but inside it felt basically like a labor agency.
Brings back memories of construction work.
Back when I was in the thick of job hunting and running on fumes, I’d once done gongbang work at a construction site.
My back had felt like it was about to snap every time I went out there, but the hourly pay was better than most other part-time jobs, so I hadn’t had much choice.
In fact, even showing up didn’t guarantee you work.
You had to arrive before dawn, sit on a sofa shivering while drinking two or three cups of instant mix coffee, and get picked by the foremen before you could go out.
Now that I think about it, it’d be nice if I could awaken some talent for that line of work too.
These days, I’d heard a day’s gongbang pay was around 200,000 to 250,000 won.
If I got even a talent for strength or stamina, I might even be able to do yarikiiri and go home early.
If that were possible, it would be a level of income that even most large conglomerate employees would envy, at least as far as salary alone went.
Still, compared to the hard times, this is a whole lot better.
I wasn’t doing this because I desperately needed cash right this second, and if I didn’t get work today, I wasn’t about to starve.
Besides, this wasn’t a place where you had to be chosen and rejected like that; if you showed up, you could be put to work right away.
“Could all the first-timers raise a hand?”
Of the eleven people gathered in the office, seven raised their hands.
“There are quite a few beginners today. I’ll start with the basic explanation. I had you all gather by three for orientation. First, there are a few things you need to keep in mind on set...”
The team leader, who looked like a foreman, went over the instructions and a few cautions.
The shoot would be at the Korean Folk Village, and the women would play village women while the men would play constables.
There wasn’t really any dialogue to memorize; they said they’d explain it on set, so it didn’t seem difficult.
We weren’t allowed to take photos on location, and naturally, no selfies either.
“And especially no asking celebrities to take pictures with you. If you get caught sneaking one, you won’t even get today’s pay.”
We even had to sign a confidentiality agreement saying we wouldn’t talk about anything we saw during filming outside the set.
It was a drama, after all, so they had to keep security tight.
Fair enough.
Honestly, while I was working in corporate life, these were the kinds of things that were perfectly obvious.
The younger guys, though, looked like they’d come here mostly hoping to snag a photo.
Still, what could they do?
I doubted there was a single idiot among them willing to risk their day’s wages just for a selfie.
“...So your pay will be transferred directly to your account once we’re done today. Any questions?”
One MZ-age guy beside me cautiously raised his hand.
“We were told to gather by three. Does that count as paid time?”
“Sorry, but no. The actual work starts at four.”
“Ah...”
He looked pretty dissatisfied.
That’s just how labor agencies are.
I let it slide.
I’d seen this more than once or twice.
Even so, the hourly rate isn’t bad.
“All right, let’s move out. There’s a minibus downstairs, so please get on board there.”
Our destination was the Korean Folk Village in Yongin.
It was open to the general public too, but when filming, they limited access to certain areas and controlled the set while they shot.
“It’ll take a while, so feel free to take a nap.”
“Yes.”
On the minibus, a man who looked to be in his late twenties sat beside me.
“Hello.”
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
He was smiling the whole time, which made it obvious he was the full-on extrovert type.
Sure enough, before he’d even fastened his seat belt, he was already striking up a conversation.
“How old are you, by any chance?”
“I’m thirty.”
“Ah, I’m twenty-nine. Can I call you Hyung?”
“Sure.”
He was like that kid from the network station who’d once shown up carrying a slave document.
Young people sure did talk to others casually.
Did I have some kind of friendly older-brother vibe?
Come to think of it, even in the army, the juniors somehow always followed me around.
I hadn’t exactly done anything special, either, yet I’d somehow ended up with a pile of commendation leave.
“My name’s Oh Gwang-bae.”
“I’m Kang Seo-jun.”
“Nice to meet you, Hyung. I could tell earlier this was your first time doing extra work.”
“That’s right. I’ve got a lot to learn.”
“Oh, no, not at all. I’ve only done a few bit parts myself.”
“You’ve done bit parts too?”
“Yeah. Only image extras, but I’ve done a few productions.”
“Oh, that’s impressive.”
“Haha, if you need anything, I’ll help out.”
He spoke as he fastened his seat belt.
“Don’t call me that. Just talk comfortably. Looks like we’ll be stuck together all day.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. But why did you come out here, Hyung?”
“I just thought I’d try a side job for once.”
“Ah. Then you can keep it light. I’m aiming to become an actor, so I have to work hard. Bit-part roles aren’t always available, so for a living I do extra work, but if I can make an impression, they might call me back...”
The guy started chattering away.
It looked like quiet wasn’t going to happen.
"This is cramped."
My role today was Constable 16.
When I first arrived, they’d told us to come dressed in a suit and dress shoes, but the moment we got there, they handed us ragged old clothes that looked like they were falling apart and told us to change.
I’d thought they’d be comfortable to wear, but they didn’t breathe at all and were far more uncomfortable than I expected.
“Gwang-bae, we’re wearing this until filming wraps today, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
That sounded rough.
“Right, I heard today’s shoot is going to be brutal.”
“Really?”
“The schedule looked insanely tight. Apparently today’s footage is airing next Wednesday.”
“That is brutal.”
Even for a fifteen-second commercial, they didn’t usually cram the schedule that hard.
They must have been badly behind.
The producers and editors were probably going to be suffering.
“Oh, there’s the actor.”
Following the direction of Oh Gwang-bae’s finger, I spotted Choi Kang-san standing there, the lead actor in this production.
Yeah, he really is a top star.
He was the very symbol of a handsome leading man these days.
Even from a distance, he seemed to glow.
According to his profile, he was my height, but in terms of proportions, he looked like he had two extra heads on me.
If even another man could look at him and feel impressed, there wasn’t much else to say.
No wonder he ranked number one in brand power.
“All right, everyone standby. We’ll roll in fifteen minutes. Extra actors, gather over here, please.”
Our role was simple.
When we got the signal, we were supposed to shout and run in.
“All right, rolling. Ready, action!”
At the director’s shout, the red light came on on the camera.
“You villain! Do you know your crime?”
“What? How dare you speak to me like that, you so-called officer? Do you think you’re someone special?”
“And who, exactly, am I?”
Actor Choi Kang-san reached into his robes and pulled out a royal seal as he shouted.
“The Royal Inspector is here!”
The moment he said it, the signal came to us.
“Waaaaaah!”
The extra actors beside me surged forward as if they’d been waiting for it.
I hefted my club and ran after them.
“Let’s gooo!”
"Cut, okay!"
They got the okay sign on the fourth take.
“Please wait until the next scene. Don’t go too far, and stay within this line over here. You can use the restroom freely, but if anything comes up, please tell me before you move.”
And so, just fifteen minutes after filming started, we were back to waiting.
Not only the people from HFS Entertainment, but apparently from several other places as well, because there were dozens of extra actors there.
“How’s it feel?”
Oh Gwang-bae sat down beside me, his eyes shining.
“This is doable, right, Hyung?”
“This is fun.”
I wasn’t just being polite. I meant it.
At first, I’d even felt embarrassed holding a club in my hand.
Having my acting filmed by a camera was stressful, and so was the thought of it airing on nationwide television.
But once we started, I adapted almost immediately.
After a few NGs and repeated takes, the feeling changed completely.
Not only the lead and supporting actors, but the other extra actors around us were throwing themselves into it with everything they had.
And the scenes they created became a story, which made me sink into it too.
On top of that, no one was making me feel self-conscious for acting; if anything, I was surrounded by people who were trying just as hard to stand out, and that drew me into the same rhythm.
Even the costume helped. Since I wasn’t wearing my usual clothes but a full Joseon-era outfit, I started feeling less like Kang Seo-jun and more like I’d stepped into a character from the drama, which made it easier to immerse myself.
The other actors were getting excited and immersed too, so my own energy kept rising along with them.
That was when I finally understood why actors said acting was fun.
“Is the wait until the next scene long...?”
Even if it was just shouting constables or being the one to strike with the paddle, I already wanted to do the next take.
But to my surprise, Oh Gwang-bae only chuckled and said, “Hyung, you can pretty much think of this as waiting all day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That’s basically what extra work is. The actual filming you do is tiny as hell. If you’re filming for six hours, five of those hours are waiting.”
“Ah...”
No wonder the more experienced extra actors had brought books to read or sketchpads to draw in.
Since phones weren’t allowed, everyone had brought something to kill time with.
“You didn’t bring anything?”
“I came to chat.”
He grinned and pointed at his mouth.
“Just talking to different people is experience for an actor. And if you want people to start calling you ‘actor’...”
A gentle breeze swept by.
Since it was early fall, the weather was pleasantly cool, which was a relief.
If we’d done this in summer, I probably would’ve died.
I found a spot in the shade and either stared blankly at the sky or looked around the Korean Folk Village.
This is nice too, just emptying my head without a phone.
And to think that out of six hours, five of them were basically spent spacing out, while the pay was 15,000 won an hour?
That’s actually not bad at all...
"Blink."
I had no idea how long I’d slept.
The sun was already setting.
Looking around, all the extra actors like me were nodding off one by one.
Even Oh Gwang-bae, who’d been sitting next to me, was half-sprawled out and fast asleep.
It feels like a couple of hours have passed.
I’d heard the wait would be long, but I hadn’t expected it to be this long.
Wondering if something had happened, I went over toward the set, and the mood was anything but normal.
“Why the hell isn’t that actor here yet?”
“We just checked. Apparently he got into a car accident on the way.”
“What...?”
“They say it was only a minor collision, but the guy who hit him is talking strangely. So they’re saying they need to call the police and wait for now...”
“Damn it!”
The director slapped his forehead and let out a groan.
“Can’t we replace him? Where’s the casting director?”
“Director, we can find a new bit actor, but it looks too tight to pull together a whole fresh list.”
“We absolutely have to shoot it today. We rented this place only until today. And this is a scene that has to be filmed in daylight. We can’t let the sun go down.”
“Then should we look among the extra actors? I saw a few with bit-part experience earlier.”
“Acting isn’t the issue. Can they speak Chinese well? He’s playing a Qing envoy. There’s even a solo scene, and if he’s awkward, it’ll show immediately.”
“...Should we at least try running it through a translator app?”
-I am a messenger from the Qing Empire. Move aside at once!
“Wu nai... chingguo syeon? Maybe we should start by teaching the actors...”
“No, that won’t work. The tones are completely off.”
As I edged closer, the Chinese line jumped out at me at a glance.
“Oh, wait. You can’t come in here.”
The assistant director tried to stop me, but I carefully tried reading the line aloud.
“Wu nai chingguo sseuchon susu rang lu!”
“!?”
“?!!”
All eyes turned to me at once.
“W-who are you?”
“Who just said that line?”
“I did...”
I raised my hand cautiously.
“Can you read this?”
The director hurried over and showed me the script.
“Yes. What I just said was the correct pronunciation, and it means, ‘I am a messenger from the Qing Empire, move aside at once!’”
“!!!”
As if he’d found a savior, the director grabbed my shoulders.
“What company are you with?”
“I’m just an extra.”
“A background actor?”
“Yes.”
The director turned his head, shot a glance at the casting director, and then...
Nodded.
The two of them nodded at the same time.
Then he looked back at me and asked, “Would you maybe want to try playing the Qing envoy?”
The answer left my mouth before I could think about it.
“No...”