Wind
"Great work, everyone!"
Ha Moo-young shook out his hair as he bowed to the staff. He'd wondered why they had to come all the way to Suwon for the shoot, but now it made sense. There weren't many spots this spacious with showers on-site.
"Moo-young, you did great."
"You too, camera director. Thanks for making it look so beautiful. Oh—need help moving that?"
"Aigoo, no need."
"I'm all done here anyway—plenty of time."
With the ink washed off, Moo-young's face was so clear it was hard to believe he'd been a vampire just moments ago. Warm water had brought a healthy glow to his radiant skin.
"Moo-young. Over here a sec."
Go Kyung-min called him over. It was time to schedule the shoot with the assistant director. They flipped through their planners, marking dates.
"All five actors are free from next week through the following one. The teachers have theater rehearsals after that, so it'll be bi-weekly shoots from then on."
"Tae-seok and Moo-young are with our agency, no issues there. Bora's still iffy, though."
"No word on the second audition date yet."
They'd have to film as many group scenes as possible next week. Moo-young leafed through the script.
"Then we can go from scene 7 straight through."
Just knock out all the group talks. The assistant director turned to Moo-young.
"Heard you have school. That okay?"
"Yep. Just schedule afternoons."
"Got it. We'll do that."
"Thanks!"
"Oh, right—Moo-young might have location scouting next month. I'll let you know once details firm up."
"Hyung? What scouting?"
Go Kyung-min chuckled, as if Moo-young had forgotten.
"Youth Footsteps—Ro Min's team is considering you, but you're in, right?"
"Whoa. Totally slipped my mind."
The travel spot wouldn't be set until the cast was finalized. The assistant director jotted something down hurriedly.
"Alright. Next shoot the day after tomorrow. Rain forecast after Thursday, so outdoor scenes first. We need some wind, too."
"Won't it pick up before the rain?"
"Who knows. Even the weather service can't say for sure."
It was the scene where the insomnia club lay on the rooftop, chatting. They wished they could just fall asleep like this, cracking open beers—but no dice, of course.
"Better prep a small wind machine just in case."
"Won't it pick up on mic?"
"Small one might be fine. Or we fan it ourselves. Haha."
The assistant director closed his notebook with a good-natured laugh. The staff were still wrangling the last of the black ink cleanup. Moo-young rolled up his sleeves and pitched in.
"Moo-young?"
"No more schedule today. I'll help a bit before I go."
"Sigh. If you do, what am I supposed to do?"
Go Kyung-min had no choice but to join, helping tidy the studio. And so the first shoot wrapped on a warm, feel-good note.
Meanwhile, director Bae Cheol-min, sleepless with excitement, watched the footage and flailed in joy.
……This start is too good.
The day after tomorrow, outskirts of Seoul—an old, rundown building. Moo-young stood at the entrance, craning his neck up. It looked straight out of a Hong Kong flick: peeling paint, exposed concrete.
"Where'd they find this place?"
"Right? Fits the vibe perfect."
"Long as it doesn't crumble."
Tae-seok, who'd come with him, grinned easygoingly as they headed in. Go Kyung-min hit the elevator button, and the doors slid open with a ding.
……!
"What?"
Moo-young froze mid-step. In the corner stood a woman's back—motionless. Oof, damn. No reflection in the mirror meant ghost.
"Nothing."
He slipped inside casually. The ghost stood like a stone statue. Old building vibes? The energy felt off. Ding—the elevator reached the 12th floor. The hallway was crammed with staff and gear.
"Hello!"
"Moo-young, Tae-seok. Hey."
"Teachers! Good to see you."
Jin Lim and Kang Seong-bae were already there, along with Bora. All the actors for the shoot had arrived, but the set wasn't ready yet.
"Everyone's busy today, huh?"
"Camera one's flickering on and off."
"Did a prelim scout, but stuff piled up since— no room for cams. They're clearing now."
"Ah, got it."
Moo-young nodded as he got makeup done. Actors could just wait, running lines or touching up.
Jin Lim sat across from him.
"Moo-young."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Saw the footage Director Bae showed. Impressive. How do you act like that?"
Her tone was gentle. Too young for grandma—more like a kind aunt. Like a warm family elder chatting.
Moo-young smiled shyly at the praise.
"Just followed the director's instructions."
"Only two years in, right?"
"Yeah, by year's end."
"Impressive."
She rummaged in her pocket, pulling out a neatly folded paper. Moo-young took it, puzzled.
"Wrote my thoughts while watching—impressions. Even after a lifetime acting, stuff popped up. Hope it's helpful."
"Whoa, ma'am! Thank you!"
"Acko."
Moo-young bowed deeply in gratitude. The stylist jumped, brush pausing. Jin Lim smiled and stood.
"Finish up strong. I'll run lines with Bora."
"Yes, ma'am!"
Moo-young clutched the paper, fidgeting. What'd she write? Gotta know! The stylist caught on and chuckled, setting down her brush.
"Hair first?"
"That okay?"
"Gotta do it anyway. Read while I work."
"Thanks!"
The stationery was crammed top to bottom in tiny script. Mostly impressions, as she said, but sprinkled with acting tips.
[-Your scream was great. But what if it sounded like a real child's cry, not metallic? Wondered about that. Too bad the ink hid your fingertip acting. One-take shoot, I get it. The whites-of-eyes bit was perfect. I can't even do that.-]
Third-person view opened new insights. Yeah—screaming like a tearing child's wail could've worked too.
"What'd she say?"
"Tips... She's on another level."
Talent plus decades of experience. Her analysis was sharp as a blade, considerate too.
"Okay, face now."
Moo-young closed his eyes, mulling her notes. He ran mental sims dozens of times for the next take. Then—
Swoosh—
"Hm?"
A sudden chill made him open his eyes. Just the stylist focused on makeup. Side glance: something squirmed at the dark hall's end.
"You okay?"
"...This building's ancient, huh."
"Was a nursing home once. Now offices, mostly shuttered."
"Ah."
Explained it. Stray ghosts everywhere—too many. The more he focused, the more he saw: will-o'-the-wisps without form, human shapes swarming.
Man. Distracting.
Ghosts sense those who see them. Ones clinging to staff drifted toward Moo-young.
"Done."
"Thanks."
He bolted up, heading to the actors' wait spot—a cramped stairwell corner. Bora shared snacks with the teachers.
"All set?"
"Yeah. What're you up to?"
"High school cram school stories."
"You two were friends? Nice. Working together too."
Line-running as small talk. Moo-young squeezed in, waiting standby. Personal rapport fueled acting chemistry, after all.
"Standby!"
"Finally."
"This way!"
Night rooftop lit up. Five lay heads together in a circle per staff cues, listening prone to the director.
"High angle first, then individuals in order. Lights might dazzle—watch it. This is scene 23."
"Got it."
"Trash needs to blow over from the side..."
The director grinned awkwardly, holding an empty snack bag—same as Bora's.
"You ate that earlier?"
"Needed the bag."
"Eating props brings three years bad luck."
"Quiet!"
Whispering like campers. "Quiet" or not, everyone heard. Staff laughed, sorting cables.
"Bought the quietest fan, but mic picks it up. We'll fan it."
"Think you can?"
"We'll try hard."
Director balled a fist at Tae-seok's concern. Shoot underway anyway. Shooing bugs from lights, he called standby.
"Shoot starts!"
"Standby!"
"Ready—action!"
Instant silence. Five on the mat gazed at Seoul's night sky.
"Sky's clear tonight."
Cloudy, but CG fix. Nurse's murmur got thief's agreement.
"Insomnia's a blessing sometimes. Wouldn't see this asleep."
"Stars sparkle prettier in dreams."
"Everyone got eyes closed?"
"Idiot? Good night or not, outdoor sleep twists your mouth."
Tone like their stairwell chat—no big difference. Mid-to-late scene, second take, but seamless blend eased the director's breath.
Wind! Give it!
Staff fanned gingerly at his signal. Trash didn't budge—NG.
"Again. Sorry."
"Nah, lying here's comfy."
Teachers joked. Director asked for stronger fans.
"Going. Ready—action!"
"Sky's clear tonight."
Smoother, more natural post-first run. But the issue persisted—
"NG!"
No wind, fans useless for natural trash drift. Five NGs in?
"Break?"
Jin Lim suggested; all nodded.
"Nature, huh. Haha. Can't control it."
"Next scene first?"
"Needs camera reposition. Few more tries."
Heads together brainstorming—Moo-young crunched a fresh snack pack. Sponsorship? Five identical bags stacked.
Swoosh—
Ghosts swarmed slyly, like pups eyeing food. Moo-young yanked it back firmly.
"Tsk! No!"
"...What?"
"Huh? No—these are too good. Haha."
Starved, no offerings. But Moo-young was hungry too. Ignoring, he munched—one ghost lunged.
Whoosh!
Irritated full-body flap! Bag on knee hit floor—quiet, effective.
Moo-young pouted. Come on. I'm eating—why butt in, ghosts?
"Huh? Just now?"
Staff gawked, palm up.
"Wind? Moo-young, what was that?"
"Huh? Wind?"
"Yeah. Made it fall?"
Moo-young picked up the bag calmly, grinning like a fun idea struck.
"Ohhh. Guess so. Wind's blowing."