Reasons This Has to Be a Blockbuster
Moo-young answered like that, then turned around. Ghosts drooling greedily, not at him but at the snacks clutched in his hand.
Aigoo. How pitiful.
So why not move on to the afterlife? Why stick around this world watching all this misery?
Moo-young shook the snack bag and flashed a bright smile. “Shall I offer some up?”
A simple offering—snacks and a can of beer—but hey, something was better than nothing. The ghosts swarmed in, gesturing wildly in excitement.
“Then help us out a bit. There’s gotta be give and take, right?”
He whispered it, hand over his mouth, nice and quiet. The set was noisy as hell anyway, and no one was paying him any mind.
The ghosts froze at his proposal, exchanging baffled glances. What’s this guy on about?
“Come on, check it out.”
Moo-young gathered them in the corner and squatted down, explaining in detail: the director’s desired wind path, intensity, how to maneuver it, everything.
“Moo-young-ssi!”
“Yes?”
“One more take—if it’s no good, we’ll shoot the interior scene!”
“Got it!”
The assistant director calling him. Moo-young traced a circle in the air with his finger and sprang up. The ghosts surged with him.
“Kinda feels like a breeze, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, a bit chilly, right?”
“I don’t feel anything.”
The actors huddled, rubbing their arms for no reason and muttering.
The rooftop was half people, half ghosts, crawling with them. Lying there, Moo-young winked at the ghosts.
“Beef jerky—”
“Huh? What’s that out of nowhere?”
“I’m craving it. Haha.”
If they nailed it, jerky on top of snacks! At Moo-young’s secret signal, the ghosts got hyped, shuffling nonexistent feet and hovering near the bag.
“Alright, here we go.”
“Fan a little harder.”
“Ready! Action!”
On the director’s cue, Bora recited her lines again. The banter flowed smoothly without a hitch. Midway, the director waved for wind again.
Wind!
Staff fanning furiously—and whoooosh—ghosts herding the snack bag with eerie groans. They clustered around it, kicking up all kinds of chaos to nudge it along.
Thanks to them, the bag drifted perfectly naturally—past Bora’s shoulder, circling the actors once.
“……!”
What the hell? Just now? The watching staff—and even the fanners—froze in shock.
Wind blowing? Nah. No wind. Where’s it coming from?
“Pfft—!”
Then Moo-young cracked up.
This was killing him. A ghost horde clumsily soccer-kicking the bag around!
The director called NG with real regret at Moo-young’s laugh.
“Aigoo! Moo-young-ssi!”
“Ahh, sorry.”
“The wind was perfect—just hold it together!”
“Really sorry.”
He never NG’d usually, so the other actors eyed him curiously. Moo-young swallowed his laughter, calming himself.
But… They just can’t see it. Living or dead, they’re all the same damn way.
“Ahem. Truly sorry.”
“Let’s go again before the wind dies?”
“But is it really blowing? I don’t feel it.”
“Only hitting that side?”
Everyone chimed in about the weird phenomenon. Moo-young wanted to spill it, but NG was perfect cover.
The director hushed the staff and grabbed the camera again.
“Director.”
“Yeah?”
“How was the trajectory? Good?”
“……Yeah. Perfect. That’s why it’s a shame.”
Check. Moo-young nodded and shot the ghosts a look. Some unspoken signal passed between them.
“Going again! Ready! Action!”
“The sky’s clear today.”
Last one for real! Everyone focused, and the ghosts clutched their empty bellies, herding the bag once more. Perfect control again!
Ooh! What’s this?
Jackpot!
It rolled full-frame, then whoosh—flew out of shot.
Lines on point, framing spot-on, timing flawless!
“Okay! Cut!”
“You see that? Haha, wild.”
“Yeah, like ghosts helped or something.”
“Trajectory nailed. Damn, looks like CG.”
“Whew, tough scene crushed. What about the wind machine?”
“Sell it on Oi Market?”
High-fives all around, everyone buzzing from the perfect take. That was the magic of filmmaking—nailing your vision dead-on, coincidence or not!
“Quick reset, then next scene.”
“Multipurpose room next building?”
“Yep! Fourth floor, passageway over—let’s move!”
Now the club scene inside. Insomniacs in a circle of chairs, chatting. Flashbacks via edits later, of course.
“Hyung, hold up.”
“Yeah? What?”
Moo-young handed his wallet to Kyung-min, who was packing Tae-seok’s clothes. “Hit the convenience store—grab some booze and jerky.”
“Booze? For what?”
“……Too tense. Need a shot before going in.”
Kyung-min freaked at the joke, face holes wide open—quite the sight.
“Haha, kidding.”
“Jesus, nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Anyway, need it. Please?”
Whatever it was, if asked, he’d do it. Kyung-min tilted his head but fetched a bottle of soju and jerky.
Moo-young stuffed the black bag inside his own and headed down the hall.
“Where you off to, Moo-young-ssi?”
“Bathroom quick.”
Slipping into the locked emergency stairs! He cracked open the jerky and booze, squatted, and clasped his hands.
“Alright, thanks a ton. Eat up and move on.”
Whoooosh—every ghost in the building swarmed. So thick he couldn’t see.
Creeeak.
“Moo-young-ah, you really okay?”
The emergency door swung open. Worried Kyung-min, come to fetch him.
Moo-young grinned and yanked his arm. “Yeah, totally fine. Let’s go.”
“Weird though……”
Kyung-min glanced at the door, ajar by a handspan. But he shook it off and rejoined the staff.
Figured another long wait, but nope?
“Huh? Jumping right in?”
“Yeah, gear’s running smooth here for some reason.”
“Was glitching out before.”
“Luck’s real, huh?”
Staff laughed, prepping happily. Moo-young scanned—no ghost shadows anywhere. All off next building for jerky and soju, looks like.
That’s why?
No ghosts, no weird vibes messing with equipment. Oho. Nice. Perfect for haunted dumps—bait and they’re gone.
“Rolling in!”
“Yes!”
Moo-young shouted, fist up. No interference, everyone hyped like fish in water.
Feeling characters breathe through banter, the film shaping up—pure thrill. Till…
“Pulled an all-nighter somehow.”
“Sun’s rising.”
Light leaked through dusty curtains. Time to wrap. Staff tired, but actors wrecked from nonstop talking and moving.
“Sorry, all beat—but gather up?”
Schedule shuffle unavoidable. Assistant director’s call, actors and managers huddled.
“You hauling all that? Jun-ho coming?”
The teachers’ managers packed clothes and gear for quick exit; Bora same.
“Jun-ho’s gotta work.”
“How you carrying that?”
“Bus.”
No car, no manager—Bora shrugged under her bundle. Came like that too, apparently. Rough trip home.
“Nah, ride with us.”
“……Wrong direction.”
“Still, bus is over an hour with transfers.”
Bora hesitated at Moo-young’s offer. Wanted to, but non-agency kid mooching felt off.
Tae-seok chimed in, grabbing his stuff. “Yeah, Kyung-min-hyung’s driving anyway.”
“Huh? Why? Schedules synced, right?”
Clueless Kyung-min jingled keys approaching.
“Dropping Bora. Cool?”
“Sure. I napped in the car while you worked.”
“Knew it—face all glowy.”
“We’re heading out first! Great work!”
“See you next time! Drive safe, sunbaenims!”
They bid farewell to teachers and staff, clocking out. Kyung-min loaded bags into the car. Bora smiled awkwardly.
“Thanks. Always imposing.”
“Nah, no biggie. Buckle up—heading out. Sleep well, all. Good job.”
“Yes!”
Moo-young and Bora side-by-side in back. Staring out opposite windows, lost in thoughts.
How long? Bora murmured.
“Moo-young-ah.”
“……Yeah?”
Moo-young mumbled, half-asleep.
Bora started to speak, then pivoted to the driver. “Hey, that thing you mentioned last time—still stand?”
“What? What’d I say?”
Lazy car vibe. Tae-seok mouth agape, out cold. Moo-young curled in corner, snoring softly.
“About recruiting me.”
“……?”
Kyung-min glanced back via mirror at her words.
Moo-young’s first pitch. Day Daryeong socked him, ranting at the store. Told her: rough times, no backup—come to Big Win.
“……Bora? Always welcome.”
Talent, passion—top-notch. Urban charm screamed star potential. Driven, sharp. From Moo-young’s stories, prime agency material.
“Then I’m in.”
Screeech—thunk!
“Argh! What the—?!”
“Whoa! Scared me!”
Sudden hard brake—Tae-seok and Moo-young headbutted seats. Tae-seok blinking drool, Moo-young scanning like crash?
“Solo preps are brutal, and more than that—”
Time watching via Moo-young convinced her. Solid company. Manager, boss—all good.
“R-Really?”
“Yeah. But you signed the film contract already.”
She’d keep this gig’s pay solo; splits after. Care starts on signing, though… agency might gripe a bit—
“Who cares! Aigoo, Bora-ya! Let’s crush it! I’ll do great!”
Big Win didn’t sweat it. Just joy at new family.
“Wh-What? What’s going on?”
“Ow…… head.”
Clueless Tae-seok and Moo-young stared puzzled. Bora beamed, sitting straight.
“Rush hour soon.”
Beat traffic. Kyung-min snapped to, gripping wheel. Car rocketed off.
Bora glanced sideways, grinning at Moo-young. “Family. Take care of me.”
“……No way. For real?”
She smiled reply, leaned on window, closed eyes—relieved.
Moo-young same. Jackpot.
Bora, same pot of rice! Finally!
Kyung-min muttered, eyes front. “This flick has to be a monster hit, right?”
Moo-young’s investment aside—five leads, three Big Win. Flop hurts all, Moo-young worst……
Hit?
Jackpot. Bye to the drafty old dump. New office with A-listers!