Writing the Review
"Huh? It's Moo-young."
"Yeah, it's been ages since we've seen Ha Moo-young's face."
Ha Moo-young, shaking out his wet hair as he sat in a chair, grinned and greeted his hyungs warmly. He left before dawn every morning and didn't get back until sunset, so this kind of reaction was hardly a surprise.
"Hey, long time no see."
"You little punk, does being a semi-celeb make you that busy?"
"You at least going to classes properly, right?"
Park Mun-seong and Choi Hwan set down their bags and asked with genuine concern. He was attending, technically speaking. For now.
"But honestly, no clue about my grades. I study when I can, but..."
It wasn't a major he was passionate about anyway, and he didn't have time to hole up in the library like everyone else. Cramming between takes on set—would that even compete?
"Just keep it from tanking completely. You're not even gonna use the degree, right? Aim for on-time graduation, that's plenty."
"Yeah, if it were me, I'd take a leave and bounce. Things are going great for you—why stick around school?"
Moo-young just flashed a bright smile at their words. Dorm life, dorm life. How else was he supposed to score cheap digs in Seoul without it? Sure, Big Win Enter had an office now, but...
"Kinda worried, though. What if I don't get dorm for next semester?"
Dorm spots were half distance score, half campus grades. No home meant max distance points, but grades were the issue.
Choi Hwan answered while sorting his clothes. "You're working now—rent a place. That Jin Kyung-moon director gig, right? Pays decent, yeah?"
"Less than you'd think."
Still, he'd paid off more than half his student loans in one go. A breath of fresh air, that feeling. Just two ads so far, but at this rate, scraping out of the red into black was only a matter of time.
"Dummy, dramas rerun. Three, four times, money rolls in each airing. Moo-young, ditch movies—go drama route?"
"Any chance I get, I'm in."
Moo-young said that as he pulled out his Doctor Martel kit. He patted his plump, pudding-like cheeks, checking his skin.
"What's that?"
"Sponsorship. Use it, post a review on SNS."
"Whoa, Ha Moo-young's blowing up?"
Moo-young grinned and popped the lid. Pop! A cool, fresh scent wafted up. Pine needles?
He closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. Whatever it was, it screamed nature.
"Wanna eat it?"
"Natural ingredients. Smells amazing."
"Lemme try."
"Sure. Wash up first."
Moo-young dabbed some onto his palm—thin liquid with sparkles. Oh, gold flecks maybe?
"Huh?"
Swirling it between thumb and index, he realized something off. It wasn't cosmetic glitter—it was flower pollen.
"Hyung, check this out?"
"What? Your palm?"
"No, the sparkly stuff inside."
"...It's clear?"
"Whoa!"
Flower pollen skincare. Moo-young bounced with excitement. Choi Hwan eyed him weirdly, grabbing a towel. Whatever—he squeezed a generous glob into both palms.
"Hyungs! Come slap this on quick!"
Splash! He patted furiously, cheeks flushing red. Not a drop wasted—that determination rang out loud.
Moo-young checked the mirror and nodded, satisfied. "Mmm. Top-notch!"
Vroooom! A few days later, Moo-young focused on his script in the rattling car. Go Kyung-min glanced over—he seemed calmer than expected.
"No carsick?"
They were rushing more than usual, old junker shaking hard. Nothing for it.
"I'm good. Gotta hurry, right?"
"Sorry about this. Got the call out of nowhere."
"Not your fault—why apologize? How's senior Hyo-jeong?"
"Dunno. That's all I heard."
Peaceful dorm time shattered by a sudden flat tire on set. Hence the emergency call.
"She's hospitalized—results soon, probably."
"Skin flipping inside out gets you admitted?"
"You'd faint hearing what celebs spend on skin. Hospital's the least of it."
Million-won post-care was standard; blind faith in pseudoscience, too. Visible job—gotta be sensitive.
"Itched like hell for days, apparently."
Hyo-jeong's face had fully inverted. Pimples at first, but worsening overnight, canceling everything. Total mess, word was. Too bad for makeup cover.
"We're here."
No actress, no shoot. Freelance crew (lights, sound) showed up to nothing—pure agony.
"Sorry, can you come now? Wrap like this, we're screwed money-wise. Really sorry."
Assistant director desperately phoned around to fill the gap. Moo-young's name popped up.
"Park and head in. Makeup first—we're rushed."
"Got it."
Moo-young hopped out and dashed to set. Staff idled in clusters, smoking or chatting.
"Hey, I'm here."
"Oh! Moo-young!"
"AD! Moo-young's here!"
AD bolted out barefoot, grabbing his hand in thanks. "You made it fast! Thanks, Moo-young."
"Manager hyung floored it. So, today's shots? No Hyo-jeong senior, so..."
They ducked into makeup, checking scenes.
"Yuna and Hee-joon waiting in their car since you said yes?"
"Ah, got it. Two-shots done?"
"Mostly. Extras if editing needs, but rest is your solos. Makeup, then out."
Splash! Hyo-jeong, Yuna, Hee-joon trio shots—Moo-young subbing in. AD confirmed doable scenes, rallying staff.
"Where's maknae noona?"
Moo-young swept back his bangs with a headband, greeting makeup team. No usual artist.
Staff just shrugged. "With team lead at Hyo-jeong's hospital."
"Why there?"
"Don't ask. Blames us for her skin flip—new skincare on set started it. Manager threw down, meeting now."
"...Changed skincare? But we all use the same."
"Exactly."
Salon or on-site, same products. Unless personal, everyone used shared.
"I used it too?"
"Duh. Anyone made up here."
"Why only senior?"
"No idea. Allergy maybe—hospital testing, will update. Team lead and maknae been through hell since dawn."
She grumbled, grabbing the familiar bottle. Moo-young clocked Doctor Martel instantly.
"This?"
"Know it? Doctor Martel."
"I've been using it. Barely smells."
"Two lines. You on this?"
"Yeah, love it. Fresh. Pat pat pat! Wore it this morning."
Moo-young chattered happily as she worked. Lotion sank into flawless skin.
"New line, but essential here now."
"For real?"
"Pricey, but killer. Aggressive SNS marketing. New brand, but backed by something big."
"What?"
She whispered. "Not sure—overheard from team lead. From JEL in Cheongdam. Owner's VIP: big-shot chaebol wife. She recommended first."
Like juicy gossip. Moo-young winked one eye, urging more.
"Weird, right? Why push no-name to skin-obsessed elites?"
Shady undertones. Moo-young paused, then clapped. Eureka!
"Value pick?"
"...Forget it. What am I even saying."
"Early adopter? Cool hobby for the rich."
"Ha Moo-young. Zip it."
Staff finished, dusting hands. "Anyway, who knows. Maknae wants alternatives, but celebs treat bodies like assets..."
Lawsuit brewing, maybe. Probe facts—direct at maknae or Doctor Martel. Either way, last time on Plague set.
"Noona, don't stress."
Moo-young caught her worry, comforting. But that's it—no details, no more to say.
Staff smiled, packing. "Moo-young's done!"
"Roger. Set resetting. Standby soon, Moo-young!"
"Got it!"
Moo-young beamed. Then, bored. Reached for script, grabbed phone instead. Tap tap.
"Hungry?"
Go Kyung-min brought drinks and snacks. Moo-young shook head, eyes glued.
"Nah. Lipstick—no eating."
"Whatcha doing?"
"Doctor Martel review. This good?"
He showed the packed DM to PR.
"Whaddya think? Post to feed if they like. Love the product—wanna rave."
He showed proudly. Kyung-min scanned.
"Won't fly."
"Why? Honest review! Not all bad."
"Cut colleague part. Then..."
Tap tap. Kyung-min thumb-mashed backspace. Then—
"Moo-young, standby!"
"Eek! Coming!"
Startled, Moo-young fumbled—hit enter, not backspace.
Ding.
"Huh?"
"What?"
Go Kyung-min froze, handing back the phone. "...Sent."