Rookie but One-in-a-Million Actor 47: Who's the Colleague?
“Enough, cut it out.”
Ha Moo-young smiled as he soothed Yu-na. Unlike him, who had pulled himself together, the kid seemed like she was just revving up. She clamped her mouth shut, but fat tears like chicken droppings plopped down nonstop.
“Sniff—! Hic!”
“Aigoo, you’re gonna pass out.”
“This is all oppa’s fault. Who told you to act so well?”
She tossed out the embarrassingly high praise without a second thought. Moo-young’s face flushed red as he kept comforting Yu-na. The staff who’d wandered over to gawk just chuckled, none of them stepping in to help.
“Yeah, it’s all because Moo-young did too good a job!”
“Who makes someone bawl their eyes and nose out like that? Hahaha!”
“Did Yu-na’s mouth get that big? She’s gonna need a truckload of chocolate.”
Ah! Chocolate!
Moo-young quickly rummaged for snacks and popped one into the kid’s mouth. Whether her tear ducts and heart were on different schedules, Yu-na munched away but showed no sign of stopping her waterworks. It was like a faucet left running.
“Still going at it?”
Yi Hi-jun, who’d splashed water on his face and returned, teased her mercilessly at the sight.
“Your eyes are gonna swell shut. You gonna be able to shoot tomorrow?”
“I don’t know! It’s all because of Jin. It’s Jin’s fault. So be careful!”
“Oh yeah? You watch yourself too. No Louis around to protect you anymore.”
“Waaah—!”
He wouldn’t let even a child get the last word. Watching Yu-na wail pitifully, Hi-jun wore a deeply satisfied grin. Refreshing! Uplifting! Exhilarating! It felt like a bit of payback for all the humiliation he’d endured up till now.
Isn’t there like a twenty-year age gap?
Moo-young gave an awkward smile as he hugged and patted Yu-na. Why was he so desperate to devour a kid practically young enough to be his daughter?
“You not changing clothes?”
Hi-jun eyed Moo-young up and down. His shirt was a total wreck after rolling around on the ground all day. It was Louis’s designated outfit, but in this state, it was trash-bound.
“Yeah. Didn’t expect we’d go this hard today.”
He hadn’t even known what they were filming.
Hi-jun glanced at him for a moment, then called over his own stylist.
“Noona! Got any spare clothes?”
“Clothes? I’ve got a T-shirt.”
“Give it to him.”
“Huh? Me? Why?”
Moo-young blinked in surprise, but Hi-jun tsked irritably.
“Putting on airs after all that hard work today? You think you’re the only one who suffered?”
“Well... wasn’t I the one who worked the hardest?”
“Oh? Talking back?”
“Not talking back—just confirming my opinion. Haha. I’ll gladly take the shirt. Thanks.”
“Bring a new one from the same brand. Cocky bastard. Why don’t you go around shaking hands with the whole staff while you’re at it?”
“Ah. Should I? I was planning to say hi anyway.”
This fucking guy.
Yi Hi-jun stared in disbelief, silently cursing. Were those dead-fish eyes of yours, or was a screw loose? Or was he actually some master schemer?
“Why?”
“...Forget it. Never mind.”
Truth be told, after seeing Moo-young’s acting, even Hi-jun had felt that shiver, just like any other director. No need for lengthy explanations on ‘why Ha Moo-young had to be Louis’—that single scene had sold it completely. As a fellow actor, he could feel the dimensional gulf between them. And as time went on, the guy would only turn into more of a monster.
Annoying.
It pissed him off out of envy, and it pissed him off even more to feel awe toward such a doofus. Hi-jun needled Moo-young pettily out of nowhere.
“You’d better thank Heo Jeong later. If she hadn’t stepped in as a sub, we wouldn’t have gotten today’s footage.”
“Ah, yeah. You’re right.”
Like harmonizing with nature itself, which ruled over humans—what a massive stroke of luck. Something you couldn’t pull off even if you tried. Moo-young just beamed and thanked Hi-jun.
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Looking out? Who? Me? Ridiculous!”
“Hi-jun-ah. What kinda shirt you want me to give him?”
“I don’t care. Give him the rattiest one.”
The stylist alternated between the shirts in her hands, then nodded at Moo-young. Both were pricey short-sleeves worth hundreds of thousands of won.
“White one, please. Hi-jun sunbae! Thanks!”
As Moo-young took the T-shirt, Yu-na muttered with arms crossed—the first somewhat friendly look in her eyes.
“That uncle’s useful once in a blue moon.”
“Hey now, that’s not how you talk.”
“It’s not wrong, though?”
“Moo-young-ah. Good work.”
Then Jin Kyung-mun approached, slinging an arm around Moo-young’s shoulders. His face was lobster-red from the blazing sun shoot—prime drunk flush.
“Thanks so much for coming on such short notice. Scene 69 was perfection. And it’s not just me—the other directors, everyone’s thrilled.”
“Glad to hear it. Thank you.”
“I’ve got this jinx thing going.”
“Jinx? You, director?”
Jin Kyung-mun looked buzzed without a drop of booze, buzzing with excitement like the saying come to life. Guess pure ecstasy could mimic alcohol.
“Scenes that wrap in one perfect take always blow up somehow. Dong-soo’s sleazing around in Hormone Parasite, Ray’s final kiss in Candy Shop.”
“Director, spoilers! I was gonna watch when I grew up.”
“Aigoo, Yu-na-ya, sorry sorry. Point is, it’s a hundred percent hit rate. You know my style.”
Of course. He’d learned it crystal clear during today’s chase scene. How terrifying ‘good, let’s go again’ could be.
“Thanks, Moo-young-ah.”
Suddenly serious tone. The director gripped Moo-young’s arms with both hands.
“Working on this film, I realized—no death in my life will ever be as beautiful as this. Thanks for creating the best moment.”
“It’s all thanks to you directors.”
“You really can act, huh? Huh? Hahaha!”
Jin Kyung-mun pounded Moo-young’s back repeatedly. Rare praise on set, and in front of fellow actors and staff no less...
“Thank you.”
“Anyway, you killed it today—go rest up. You’ll sleep like a rock.”
“Yeah, feels like it. My whole body aches.”
“Moo-young-ah! Ready? What’s with the shirt?”
His manager, done coordinating the next schedule with the AD, called him over. Moo-young bowed to Jin Kyung-mun, then looked down at Yu-na. She clung to his waist, reluctant to part.
“We’ll see each other again, right?”
“Of course. Still tons left to shoot.”
“Oppa, bye. Take care.”
“Yu-na, bye-bye. Be good.”
Anyone watching would think one of them was off to another country. Yu-na gripped her mom’s hand tight as they left the set, glancing back every few steps.
Go Kyung-min handed him a towel with a head tilt.
“Let’s go. Dry your hair on the way—what’s with the clothes?”
“Hi-jun sunbae gave it to me. I’ll change in the car.”
“Yi Hi-jun?”
“Ugh, feels off. Schedules sorted for next?”
“Heo Jeong said a few more days off. So we’re knocking ours out first. Not bad—better to batch ’em.”
Thick and fast! If they crammed the shoots, post-production would have breathing room. Do it right, and he could squeeze in another gig. With his situation, part-time work wouldn’t hurt.
Tang—
Moo-young pulled out his phone from his bag the moment he slid into the passenger seat.
“Huh?”
A DM reply from Doctor Martel’s promo rep.
“Huh?”
Moo-young scrolled up to check what Go Kyung-min had sent. The end was wiped clean, leaving only ‘My colleague didn’t like it’ dangling awkwardly.
“Urgh.”
Hyung did a clean job. But now what? Moo-young showed the screen to Go Kyung-min.
“Hyung. They want me to post it like this?”
“Post it then. What’s the issue?”
“Heo Jeong sunbae stuff. What if it really was Doctor Martel? Then I can’t post this.”
“That’s separate from this. Totally separate.”
“Urgh. Still feels wrong.”
Moo-young agonized, then typed a reply. Go Kyung-min, eyes on the road, muttered.
“Body types are wild, huh? Everyone on set used the same skincare—why’d she react alone?”
Assuming it was Doctor Martel, that is. Moo-young paused typing, pondering deeply.
“Yeah. Such a good product too.”
“You’re hooked, huh?”
“No, it’s... ”
The flower pollen swirling in the skincare. Thinking of that, the company seemed clear of issues or lawsuits.
“Maybe sunbae ate something bad?”
“She was dieting—only water.”
“Really? Hmm. Who knows.”
Moo-young hit send, then pocketed his phone. Then, the rustle of chocolates—he’d saved them for Yu-na.
“...Huh?”
A flash of memory hit Moo-young. That day shooting stills, huddled with Yu-na and Heo Jeong.
* * *
“Representative!”
Doctor Martel’s Gangnam office. Amid mountains of files and docs, a staffer rushed to find the boss. Sun down, but quitting time? No way!
“Big trouble!”
“Huh? What? You scared me!”
Han Da-kyung, glued to her screen, jumped and turned. High ponytail on long wavy hair, glasses—pure young entrepreneur vibe.
“Joy & Enter just called. Actress Heo Jeong’s skin totally flipped after using our product. And it went through the makeup artist we sponsored, so they’re demanding compensation from them and us.”
Ding— What the hell, out of nowhere? She shot up, stammering.
“Wait, what? Bad enough to sue over compensation? How bad?”
“Gotta meet in person for details. Hospitalized, missed shoots—”
“Let’s go. Now!”
Han Da-kyung slammed her papers down, waving grandly. Compensation aside, suing a cosmetics company over a reaction was absurd. But the other side was actress Heo Jeong. That Heo Jeong!
“Huh? Rep? Where you off to?”
The promo staffer paused at the doorway.
“Yeah, suddenly.”
You couldn’t ignore a star’s influence. If word spread in the industry, or worse, hit personal SNS...
“Damn it!”
Days of blood, sweat, and tears to get here flashed by. Han Da-kyung slammed her papers harder, cursing.
“Urgent? What’s up?”
“Nah, not really. Ha Moo-young sent the sponsored review draft—”
“Ha Moo-young? Oh, Hanbam Pochah?”
“Rave reviews. But he says his colleague—using the same product—didn’t like it. Wants to post once confirmed.”
“Colleague? What colleague...”
Han Da-kyung whipped around to the promo staffer standing blankly. The agency prez had said it clear: working with director Jin Kyung-mun. Bargained hard, hyping him as a rising star.
“Didn’t Heo Jeong join Jin Kyung-mun’s project too?”
“Yeah. Articles said her first screen return in three years.”
Click click click.
Han Da-kyung squeezed her eyes shut, fingers snapping—a tic in crises only.
“Gimme Ha Moo-young’s contact.”