Chapter 131
Chapter 131
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Once Again, Writer
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# 131
Once Again, Writer Chapter 131
No sooner had they wrapped the opening shots than the staff piled into vehicles and headed out.
They had prep work to do ahead of time at the next filming location.
The trainees, meanwhile, began shooting their individual close-ups.
The plan was to introduce the trainees at the start of each episode, so these were the shots for that.
Even with just five of them, it took quite a while.
Touch-ups to makeup, tweaks to angles, retakes—an endless loop.
“Impressive.”
“Yeah. Holding that smile the whole time can’t be easy.”
“They must be debut-ready. They look totally pro to me.”
“Thank God they’re not changing outfits.”
Woo Ji-hyun spoke with evident relief.
If they’d had to swap clothes, it would’ve taken at least twice as long.
“But isn’t it fun to watch? Look at the kids. Jaws on the floor, totally awestruck.”
“Definitely not your everyday faces.”
Woo Ji-hyun chuckled at Lee Jang-hu’s glance.
Just as he said, the three younger guys were gaping like they might drool any second, mesmerized by the trainees’ shoots.
“Not just everyday—hard to find looks like that even in Seoul. I go there all the time, but I’ve never seen girls like this. Hongdae, Sinchon, Gangnam, Gangdae entrance—all checked out. Same in Busan.”
“But you know the leader’s the only adult? The rest are minors.”
“Huh?!”
“Seriously?”
Woo Ji-hyun’s words snapped the three out of their daze.
Even the youngest, Kim Seon-woo at twenty-five, hastily schooled his expression.
“So aim for the leader, then? We’re no slouches ourselves!”
“They debut next month—think dating’s on the table? Big agencies ban it for five years, right?”
Woo Ji-hyun tilted his head at Lee Jang-hu.
But the replies came from the juniors.
“Curve’s not quite big-league yet, so maybe it’s allowed?”
“We can play oppa-dongsaeng until the ban lifts. Five years and they’re adults anyway.”
“I’d be happy just getting to know her. I could buy the drinks and meals.”
The juniors jumped in with uncharacteristic fervor.
No trace of their usual reserve.
Woo Ji-hyun could only let out a chuckle.
“You guys are all fired up, huh.”
“Dieted hard for a day like this.”
“I replaced my whole wardrobe. Hit up so many department stores.”
“Watch and wallet for me. Broke the bank on these.”
The conversation was spiraling, and Woo Ji-hyun’s amusement faded.
Still, he got where they were coming from.
Prime of their twenties, blood pumping, now respected writers in their field.
Income-wise, no comparison to peers.
But chances to meet women? Slim to none.
Always solo writing or huddled in team sessions—introductions had their limits.
‘Even I’m holed up at home pounding keys.’
Without Lee Woo-hyung and Elder, he’d probably react the same.
Maybe worse.
Less as potential dates, more as an uncle fan.
“Go for it, then. You never know till it’s over. And hey, nothing says we can’t date a girl group.”
“Hyung, you’re not trying?”
“Hey, the maknae line’s eleven years younger than me. Basically a generation gap. And minors? Try? Try what?”
“Ahahaha! My bad, hyungnim!”
Lee Jang-hu backpedaled fast.
Eleven years was a chasm.
Thirty-nine and twenty-eight? Manageable.
But twenty-nine and eighteen? Serious.
Even the oldest, leader Hye-jeong, was eight years younger than Woo Ji-hyun.
“Youth is your asset. Enjoy it.”
“Got it!”
“Leave it to us!”
“Of course, they hold the final say.”
The four faces fell in unison.
No need for Woo Ji-hyun to spell it out—they knew.
“But I’m rooting for you.”
“You’re not gonna stab us in the back after saying that, right?”
Led by Lee Jang-hu, three pairs of eyes fixed on Woo Ji-hyun.
Truth be told, he had the highest profile of the five.
Plus ties to Elder, a direct line to the trainees.
Lee Jang-hu narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“No worries from me. They’re all little sisters in my book.”
“Then push for me!”
“No, me!”
“Voice down.”
Smack!
Sensing glances from nearby staff, the four clamped hands over their mouths.
Shrimp-eyed, they scanned the surroundings.
“I’m the oldest. There’s hierarchy even in cold water—obviously me first.”
“I’m a lifelong singleton. Wanna make history with my first love being an idol.”
“…Why ask me? Figure it out yourselves. Dating’s between the two involved, got it?”
“We need your help, hyungnim!”
“Me too!”
At some point, they’d latched onto him, and Woo Ji-hyun’s sigh deepened.
Undeterred, the four clung with desperate faces.
The morning shoot marched on relentlessly.
The girl trainees roamed Ganghwa Island’s nooks, hunting hints to solve puzzles—a treasure hunt vibe.
Hints hidden everywhere, all had to be found.
PDs and assistant directors offered voice tips midway, but just bare-bones advice.
“So we gotta collect as many hints as possible?”
“Right. Helps clear the evening missions. And score a hearty dinner.”
“Huh? So no lunch?”
Leader Hye-jeong pointed at the midday sun.
Lunchtime loomed.
Heo Kwang-su just smirked enigmatically.
“Come on, no way. Staff gotta eat too—wouldn’t starve us alone?”
“Nah. That look on the director’s face screams hunger games. Makes for fun footage.”
“It’s not a variety show. Strict promo vid—gotta feed us to shoot.”
Blue Suryeon and Red A-jin, same age, bickered.
Each insisting her take was right.
Sadly, Heo Kwang-su held all the cards.
“Well said. This is Q&D Management’s platform promo. But nonstop ads won’t fly. No fun, no views.”
“No way…”
“That’s why we’ve got a game. Luck of the draw. You know it? Name says it all. Every Korean does. We’ll use it to decide: lunch or bust.”
“Team or solo?”
Black Jeong-in, one of the maknaes, shot her hand up boldly.
Lunch on the line—huge stakes for her.
“Solo’d breed grudges, so no.”
“I’m fine with solo.”
“Traitor! Do-or-die eating!”
“Gotta survive solo! Keeps the shoot going!”
Pink Si-ha wailed, and Black Jeong-in fired back undaunted.
Before food, no sisters, no friends.
Just eaters and non-eaters.
“No loyalty?!”
“Food’s black-and-white: winners and losers!”
The eighteen-year-olds squabbled, drawing chuckles from Heo Kwang-su and the assistant director.
Surprisingly cinematic.
Snappy energy.
Kang Taek-jin and Yeo Woo-jin, watching quietly, grinned like proud dads.
“You choose. Team or solo—doesn’t matter much for this game.”
“Then as leader, I say team battle for Tiramisu!”
“Argh, why!”
Green Hye-jeong boomed.
Black Jeong-in, solo advocate, exploded.
Considering the unnies’ luck, solo was the way.
“No need to worry. Our game lets all five play. Know this toy?”
“Pirate roulette!”
“Yep. Alternate turns with us crew. Pirate pops—you lose.”
Tiramisu’s five eyes gleamed.
Better than quizzes—pure luck.
Black Jeong-in’s shone fiercest.
“Crew first?”
“Nah, unfair. Luck’s about fairness. 5v5 rock-paper-scissors. Losers stab first.”
“Me first!”
Black Jeong-in—fiercest, hungriest for food—stepped up unbidden.
Crew side: assistant director and three others, stone-faced for cameras.
For the laughs, they needed to win—geared up.
“Let’s go.”
“Rock, paper, scissors!”
A hearty shout rang out.
Winners and losers swift; toy knives plunged into the pirate barrel, colors flashing.
Clang!
Moments later, the one-eyed pirate shot skyward.
Tiramisu froze in shock.
Black Jeong-in, who’d launched it herself, collapsed in despair.
“Aaaah…”
“He’s gone. Truly gone…”
World-lost faces, they murmured.
Eyes misty like phantom food beckoned, arms outstretched—starved for real.
“No breakfast…”
“Not even juice. Sniff!”
Idol trainees, but acting chops too—five streamed fat tears.
“Not over yet. Lucky for you, you’ve got a reversal weapon.”
“Huh?”
“That small bag from shoot start?”
“Yeah!”
“Open it.”
Green Hye-jeong, bag rep, tore it open on Heo Kwang-su’s cue.
Three colorful silk pouches tumbled out.
“Th-this! No way!”
“Spot on. Chance bags. We chase fun, but not cruelty. Minors too. Three chances total. Use or not? Your call. We just offer options.”