Just Like Old Times
"How about it? Just like old times, right?"
"S-Sujin?!"
How are you here? Her name burst out in a mix of shock and confusion, and Sujin let out a little snort of laughter.
"What, is this some place I can't be? I can tag along with Mom to the set, you know."
"W-Well, yeah, that's true."
It was just surreal that she'd never shown up before and now here she was. I swallowed the rest of that thought. Actually, it got swallowed for me—too stunned to get the words out.
"It's been forever. Last time I saw you was when we were kids, so like ten years?"
"Yeah."
"You're still so handsome. Even more than back then."
Sujin beamed, lifting the hem of her skirt just a bit.
"I'm pretty too, right? Even prettier than before?"
Kim Sujin, with her baby fat starting to melt away, was definitely beautiful. Her face screamed strong genes from her mom—radiant and captivating, drawing the eye without trying. Those deep eyes, bathed in the red sunset glow, looked almost vampiric.
But why the hell was she dressed like that?
"Yeah, prettier than back then. But your outfit's kinda... unique?"
"Oh, this? It's... menhera fashion. I'm, like, kinda famous for it."
Come to think of it, was this around when that trend started blowing up?
It should be a bit later.
Guess being in the industry gave her a head start on that info. But still, why wear it here? The question popped up—and vanished just as fast.
Oh.
I got it. Kim Sujin was fourteen.
Of course.
Prime time for full-blown middle school syndrome.
Thump-thump.
My heart was racing.
-Mom, is today Donghu's final shoot?
-Yeah, why? Curious? Wanna go?
-Wha—?!
The casual question I'd tossed out last night had landed me this golden opportunity.
-Yes! I wanna go!
That evening, Kim Sujin flung open her closet.
She didn't want to throw on just anything. Sure, they'd video-called once, but that was just a screen. This was the real deal, face-to-face for the first time in forever.
So she picked the most special outfit from her wardrobe. To make this long-awaited reunion unforgettable.
How many girls are gonna swarm him from now on?
Kim Donghu's looks were insane—unbelievably handsome. But his personality was just as special. Guys that hot are usually jerks, right? Not him. There was this subtle warmth, no arrogance. Even when his words seemed teasing, they hid a maddening sweetness.
Other people tasting that? No way they'd resist falling for him.
I'm the one who first realized how handsome Kim Donghu is!
And she'd been the first to hold his hand! That's why she'd schemed so much—begging her mom to get them alone, turning on the heater, killing the classroom lights, waiting for him.
But then.
The second he flipped on the light and their eyes met, every plan evaporated. She just burst out laughing. Seeing him after so long made her too happy.
Thump-thump.
Her heart went wild.
"You know we're grabbing dinner together on Christmas, right?"
"Yeah, of course!"
Sujin nodded vigorously at my words. As if she wouldn't know—she'd thrown a full tantrum to her mom to make it happen.
"Perfect timing. I'll be by myself that day."
She knew that too.
Donghu's mom is doing way better, so his dad's heading to the US for her return prep.
All this intel came courtesy of her mom, Kim Yuryeon—connected to my mom, Lee Yuhyun. Sujin was fully briefed.
"What, nervous 'cause it's been so long? You were smiling fine earlier—now you can't even talk."
I grinned playfully and stepped closer. One step, two. That unreal handsome face closing in.
"Y'know, back in the day, you used to beg me to hold your hand. Remember?"
"..."
Sujin's face turned beet red. She couldn't utter a word. All the convo topics she'd rehearsed last night—her being a fast birthday so technically older, teasing him to call her noona, suggesting arts high together—gone from her head. She couldn't say a damn thing.
My hand approached softly, slowly descending. Fingertips three centimeters from touching. All her nerves zeroed in there as I continued.
"We used to hold hands all the time back then. Good memories."
Smoothly.
One centimeter left. The hand she'd begged for as a crying kid, the one she'd pinky-sworn never to let go.
Guys' hands are this big, huh.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
Her heart pounded steeper. A fierce whirring spun in her head.
Tap.
Fingertips touched—and hands intertwined. Gently locking pinkies, me smiling like always.
They'd felt similar size back then. Now her hand fit perfectly in mine. Less interlocking, more enveloped.
Smoothly, our linked hands rose between our faces.
"How about it? Just like old times, right?"
"H-Hic!"
At my words—
Boom!
Sujin's emotions exploded in a blush of pure embarrassment.
After my break, filming resumed. Around the third take of Lee Jay's performance—
"Caaaat! That's a wrap!"
Under director Ji Jangmin's call, the day's shoot ended.
"Great work!"
"Actor Kim Donghu! You killed it!"
"Last shoot already? Gonna miss this!"
Hide Dream—Lee Jay role final shoot complete.
The staff, knowing full well what that meant, thanked me in unison. This freezing winter day? They'd reminded us why we grind like this.
"That performance was insane."
"Hot fish cakes and classical music on a cold winter day? Nobody else gets this."
"Right? Can't buy this experience."
Hearing a master's playing here? Pure blessing.
Everyone celebrated my wrap with heartfelt cheers—but three people couldn't join in fully.
"Send the edit ASAP. Gotta revise the script for sure."
"Writer, who do you think I am? It'll be flawless. The footage is gold."
"Can't argue there. How many shoots in my life felt this smooth?"
Writer Lee Minha, PD Kim Youngmo, director Ji Jangmin.
Lee Jay's arc was done— no more screen time needed. The rest would fill with Hide Dream's fluffy rom-com vibes.
But does life ever go to plan?
Maybe glimpsing the near future made her bitter. Lee Minah stared at her dust-caked script.
Kim Donghu.
Next time, you're my lead. No matter what.
Her resolve burned bright as the set wrapped for the day.
Mid-December. Christmas trees lined streets, bakeries hustled Christmas party cakes.
Ignoring the romance, in Cheorwon, Gangwon-do, staff sweated buckets.
"Not there—the other side! I said over there! How many times?!"
"Sorry!"
"Get it right! In a war flick, slack on realism or historical accuracy? Dead on arrival. You wanna tank this movie?!"
"No, sir!"
Art director's sharp orders sent them scrambling. Spot on, every word.
Endless Frontline—late Korean War. Final pre-armistice bloodbath over a hill, right before ceasefire.
Historical war epic demanded top-tier prep. Especially guns—fans nitpick.
Watching it all smugly: director Kang Sanghun, with his Guan Yu beard.
Solid groundwork makes the film shine.
Securing this location took serious hustle.
Cast's all here.
Han Taekon, Korea's top actor, plus flavor vets like Ko Changsik, Seo Myungwoo. Near-perfect lineup, if I do say.
And finally—
Smoothly, his gaze slid to a boy in the corner.
Kim Donghu.
The rookie who'd nailed the student soldier at table read. His acting was chilling—beyond newbie level.
Unreal looks.
Staff might not get it, but Kang knew why others greeted him warmly once then backed off. Avoid two-shots. Stand next to that face? You'd look like calamari.
With looks like that, he could coast—but he's grinding hard.
Chaos around, yet glued to his script. Commendable.
Felt it at the read: probably up all night studying lines. Kids that age setting the example.
Misunderstood like that, Kim Donghu was currently—
Immersion.
Click.
Deep in the script.