Thank You
“Trust me, uh, how exactly...?”
Oon Jeong-gil kept stammering on.
Just then, a staffer came over with the slate. The background extras in the distance got into position.
“Alright! We're rolling—everyone stick to your marks. No flashy moves!”
The assistant director's voice boomed across the set through the megaphone. He made a quick circling motion toward Oon Jeong-gil, as if to say get back to your spot.
“Cigarette 1, you good to go?”
“Yes? Yes, yes. So, straight line from there to here, right? If I got that right...”
“Yep. Let's move!”
Oon Jeong-gil shuffled stiffly back to the group of extras. The camera would catch “Cigarette 1” walking toward Louie and Jenny in a long shot.
“Hoo!”
He sucked in a breath to steady himself, holding back any stray lines or cues. But would it really be that easy?
Once the set was cleared, the staffer snapped the slate with gusto.
Clack!
“Ready! Action!”
Oon Jeong-gil started walking from afar. Moo-young and Yoo-na watched, sitting side by side like good friends.
Maybe it was all those years of walk-ons under his belt, but it wasn't half bad. A bit awkward, sure...
Thud, thud.
Oh no.
His path started veering—just a tiny bit at first. At this rate, his left shoulder would get cut off-frame.
Moo-young and Yoo-na, who had to stare straight ahead, flicked their eyes at each other with just their whites showing.
What's with that path?
Moo-young pointed right with a finger on his knee in response to Yoo-na's glance. It wouldn't show on camera from behind. The director with the boom mic might see, though.
Right! Go right!
But Oon Jeong-gil was too tense. His gaze stretched out to the horizon. His joints creaked like rusty metal.
Oh, come on!
Yoo-na let out an inner groan. Her brow furrowed instinctively. Thoughts branched out in her mind like a fluffy mind map.
NG like this. Uncle gets chewed out. He slumps, another NG. Uncle gets more chewed out. Has to find another gig... Ends up delaying the shoot?
This won't do.
If it was gonna happen anyway, better to cause it herself. Yoo-na gave a little bounce to rev her engine.
Dust piled up on the set blew into her nostrils on a hot gust. It tickled going in—
“Achoo!”
“Cut! Yoo-na, you okay?”
Yoo-na sneezed spectacularly. No one batted an eye—it was such perfect timing. Only Moo-young, shoulder-to-shoulder with her, caught the forced breath.
He gave her a puzzled smile, and Yoo-na batted her eyes cutely, whipping around to face him. Then a quick sniffle!
“Yeah. Sorry, too much dust.”
“Aigoo, hang in there. Splash some water here!”
Our leading lady's just a kid, after all. At Director Jin Kyung-mun's order, staffers wet the ground behind them with water from their own bottles—out of frame.
“Back to positions, everyone!”
“Taking it again!”
The extras returned to their marks at the staff's call. Oon Jeong-gil hesitated, turning to go.
“Uncle, hold up.”
Moo-young approached and grabbed him. Then whispered.
“You went too far left—no, right from your side. Shoulder gets cut off. I'll point with my finger, watch it and come straight.”
“R-Really?”
“Loosen up a bit and it'll be perfect. Your pace and breathing were spot-on.”
Thumbs up! Proper coaching and praise are key.
Oon Jeong-gil caught his breath and returned to his mark. As Moo-young sat back down, Yoo-na flashed her palm.
“Nailed it, right?”
“Top-tier consideration, Yoo-na.”
“I know, right!”
Smack! Moo-young high-fived her, and Yoo-na's lips twitched up. The kid stared ahead, beaming.
“Rolling! Ready! Action!”
Second take. Oon Jeong-gil walked with way more natural steps.
Nice, nice! Feels good!
Left, right! Good!
Following Moo-young's secret signals, he nailed the angle line. Finally, the man drew close.
Moo-young mouthed silently—One, two! Super host, right? Got a spare smoke?
“Super host, right? Got a spare smoke?”
“Okay, cut! Good take.”
“Hey, you got it. Quick learner.”
His acting wasn't award-worthy, but no one expected heavy emoting here. Jin Kyung-mun pulled off his headset, satisfied enough.
The assistant director patted Oon Jeong-gil's back encouragingly.
“How do you want your extra pay? Cash right after wrap, or bank transfer in two days.”
“C-Cash, please. How much?”
He hadn't even thought about the money. He'd auditioned just to say one line.
“300,000 won.”
“Whoa!”
More than expected! Three days on set barely covered food and board at 100,000 a day.
He bowed deeply, thanking them nonstop.
“Thank you!”
“Sure thing. Head back to Broadcasting Story now. Moo-young, Yoo-na! Next up, your close-ups. Ready to go? Check the kids' makeup!”
They nodded, and the makeup team swarmed in. As Moo-young got touched up, he shot Oon Jeong-gil double thumbs-up.
“Uncle, you did great.”
“Did great—”
“Yoo-na, say pa-pa-pa.”
“—Pa-pa-pa.”
The set whirled in frenzy. Oon Jeong-gil awkwardly smiled and retreated to the corner. He wanted to say thanks, but no opening.
Was Yoo-na's sneeze 'cause of me?
Thinking back quietly, it sure seemed so. Too tense earlier to notice...
As Oon Jeong-gil felt a quiet swell of emotion—
“Makeup done!”
“Camera close! Rolling now!”
“Ready! Action!”
He saw it. Moo-young's gentle face shifted in an instant. Same features, totally different vibe.
The two stared up at the camera with blank, bored expressions.
“...”
Silent. Like don't talk to us, just scram.
Jin Kyung-mun snapped his fingers in satisfaction through the viewfinder.
“Okay! Good!”
And whoosh—Moo-young's aura brightened back to lively twenty-something freshness.
If he'd seen that mid-take, Oon Jeong-gil would've been too shocked to deliver his line.
“Uncle, good work.”
Just like Yoo-na's courtesy, this was Moo-young's. Staying as Moo-young, not Louie, even in the shot. Making it comfy to speak.
“Uncle?”
“...Oh, right. Thanks so much. You helped a ton today. Coffee too. Heh.”
Oon Jeong-gil snapped to, chuckling.
“No biggie. Glad it went in one take. Oh—tell the AD your name before you go. That's how you get on the cast list.”
Ten years in this game, he'd met all kinds. Shockingly awful ones, kind ones. But this? First time.
No one fussed over extras like this—the bottom of the bottom.
“C-Cast list? Me?”
“Yep. As 'Cigarette 1 Oon Jeong-gil' probably.”
Not lumped under “Filming courtesy: Broadcasting Story”—his full name in lights.
Oon Jeong-gil murmured dreamily.
“Th-Thank you.”
A dream. One he'd vaguely harbored. Never thought it'd come true like this.
“Moo-young's one heck of a guy. So kind.”
“Me? First time hearing that!”
“If my son was half like you, I'd have no regrets in life.”
What's the deal with his son?
Moo-young just smiled and tilted his head. Not like he knew the guy...
“Moo-young!”
“Yes!”
Moo-young shot his hand up at the director's call.
“Uncle, gotta go.”
“Sure, sure.”
Watching Moo-young dash off, Oon Jeong-gil vowed: if the chance came, he'd help with all his heart, just like this kid did.
Hope we work together again.
Dramas ran seasons—maybe possible.
He fiddled with the canned coffee in his pocket.
Better save this.
To commemorate today. Oon Jeong-gil stepped off lightly, mood soaring. Back to his spot with the extras.
* * *
“Okay! Cut!”
“Scene 113, take three. Good work.”
“Good work, everyone. Whew, exhausting!”
The sun had long set. Stars dotted the predawn sky by the time Jin Kyung-mun's final cut-out rang out.
Staffers dragged weary bodies into cleanup.
“Good work, Director.”
“Oh! Yeah, Moo-young. See you next time. When?”
“At least two weeks. Hyo-jung sunbae’s back, so. Might see you for reshoots.”
“Ugh, that's no real reunion. Let's part cool and meet fresh.”
“Haha, sounds good. I could use a break from reshoots too.”
His scenes were thinning out, and with Hyo-jung starting next week, it'd shift to her for a while.
Moo-young traded jokes with staff as he left the set.
“Let's head out, Moo-young.”
“Take care!”
Moo-young bowed deeply till the end before boarding the car. In his private space, tension melted into fatigue.
Thud!
“Good work today.”
“Tougher with Yoo-na leaving early. Solo's no joke.”
Kids clock out sharp; adults grind till dawn. Crunch—stretching felt like bones grinding.
“Still, lucky break. Finals are all I gotta worry about for a few days. Day after tomorrow, right?”
“No cramming salvation for me. Already got a whiff of that faint 'C+' aroma...”
Sniff.
Moo-young turned to the window, swallowing tears. Dawn neared, but he'd only covered ten pages on set.
“Flunk finals, no dorm, right?”
“Kinda rough. Scores tanking.”
“...Homeless, then?”
“Gotta vacate for break, yeah.”
Go Kyung-min glanced over. Head turned, but the dark window reflected his face. Looking ready to bawl.
“If you're cool with it, crash at the office. Boss'll understand.”
“No shower. Bathhouse costs might make a goshiwon cheaper.”
“Wanna say come to mine, but parents are there.”
“Nah, I'm good. It'll work out.”
Last resort: Jun-ho's place. He'd read the room himself before making anyone else.
Moo-young sighed deeply, checking his phone.
Quite the mix. Too late to call back—Moo-young planned to reply after sunrise.
But then the ringtone buzzed.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
“Dr. Martel?”
“Yeah, I texted before we left. Figured you might be waiting.”
Go Kyung-min nodded answer it. A thanks from them? Might as well take it.
Who knew? It could be honey, rice cake, or something else.
Click.
“Yes, hello? This is Ha Moo-young.”