Record Deletion
"Excuse me, reporter. Sorry, but questions like that are a bit..."
Go Kyung-min gave an awkward smile, trying to cut off the question.
Lee Eun-a shrugged as if surprised, flipping through her prepared script with a flutter.
"Oh my. You're really protective of him."
"Sorry about that. Moo-young doesn't really go online much."
"Really? I thought he was active on SNS."
She rubbed the back of her neck, her interest visibly deflating. It was undoubtedly a tricky question. Comparing looks with Oon Ta, who had a massive fandom? Who's dying to see that?
Saying he was better would be the dumbest answer, and claiming Oon Ta was hotter would just get him labeled fake and torn apart online. Arguing "looks can't be compared" would make him seem arrogant for a rookie, lecturing the public like some know-it-all. He could see it all coming without even trying.
Moo-young. Keep your head straight.
Go Kyung-min nodded subtly, signaling Moo-young. This was weird. Maeil Daily wasn't usually this aggressive. If anything, the prying gossip site OncePatch—specialists in personal scandals—was the real pain.
"Alright, next question. In Plague, you're working with Yoo Yu-na. How's that been? Anything tough since she's so young? Any behind-the-scenes stories or memorable moments with the other actors?"
Moo-young smiled sheepishly and glanced at Go Kyung-min again. Bro, what's up with this? Does our agency have beef with them?
"Reporter, that's tricky too since we haven't hit crank-up yet."
Once filming wrapped, the production company would set up dedicated interviews focused purely on promotion. That's when they could spill all the stories—with everyone's mutual agreement.
"Ah... um..."
An awkward silence fell. Lee Eun-a just clicked her pen cap, lips sealed. Her face said she had nothing left to ask.
"If everything's off-limits, I can't really proceed."
Where had the early friendly vibe gone? It had dried up like a drought.
"How about this? With the recent incident, assistant director Park Sang-il resigned. Any comment on that?"
"Ah... um..."
"Some say it was an overreaction. As an AD, side roles need to stand out more than extras, right? Ah, that ties into the last one, huh? Haha. All questions circling the same spot."
There was no way she was out of things to ask. Philosophy on acting, future mindset, daily actor life—plenty tailored to his career.
She's just chasing gossip for clicks.
But Lee Eun-a was clearly gunning for views off Moo-young, blatantly so.
Moo-young raised a hand, asking for a pause.
"Sorry, gotta hit the bathroom."
"Oh? Sure. Take a break? We haven't even gone long. Haha."
As Moo-young headed upstairs to the loft, Go Kyung-min and Im Jun-ho swiftly took positions. Jun-ho plopped into Moo-young's seat, playing chat buddy for the reporter.
"Hi, reporter. I'm Im Jun-ho, MD at BornToRi. High school buddy of Moo-young's."
"Oh really? Birds of a feather... Ah! Good way, no offense. Seriously. You two are both handsome and in similar fields."
"Of course. We've even been thinking of pitching a story your way."
While Jun-ho held her attention, Go Kyung-min needed to huddle with Moo-young in the loft hallway about this mess.
Moo-young swept back his hair, not hiding his confusion.
"Di-did I do something wrong?"
"Nah, no way. This is weird. Boss said it wouldn't be like this. Yeah, they'd ask about the AD thing, but nothing major."
"The prep questions you gave me were just the basics. Super bland stuff."
He hadn't expected such direct prodding and disappointment. Na Geum-dong had sworn the paper was on board. For their actor's first interview, the agency had put in real effort.
"Damn. What a mess."
Couldn't just clam up with a reporter here. But the questions were all sharp-edged, high-risk.
Moo-young leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"Can't we just cancel?"
"Be real. They'd snap pics right away. Reporters have huge egos—treat 'em like that, and rumors fly."
He wanted to send her packing politely. Too bad that wasn't an option.
Moo-young peeked downstairs, deep in thought. He spotted Jun-ho's head, battling solo for his friend.
"Rookies need that one good article. Can't mess it up. Bad manners anyway."
Blades kill people. So do pen tips, deciding fates on a whim.
A malicious reporter was the worst.
"Guess no choice. I'll handle it best I can."
"...You?"
Go Kyung-min rubbed his face repeatedly. He knew Moo-young's personality too well—this could go nuclear.
"You don't trust me?"
"Yeah. Jun-ho said your brain's not in your head—it's in your throat. Stuff just flies out."
"What else did that guy say?"
"Hold up, let's think more. I'll call the boss..."
Go Kyung-min paced nervously, digging for Na Geum-dong's number in a corner.
Moo-young leaned idly on the railing, staring down.
Then, whoosh.
"Huh? Where've you been?"
A chill swept in as the ghost appeared. Dangling from the wall, swaying.
Moo-young tapped her feet lightly, sighing deeply.
"Driving me nuts. Wonder if I can even take decent photos like this."
"Sorry to keep you waiting?"
"Nah. Your friend's a talker. Should grab a mic instead of fashion."
"Nah. Gotta have a good partner to loosen up."
"Hahaha! True skill!"
Well, well. Jun-ho had melted her mood completely. Reigniting the cooled atmosphere like a spark in the cold. If only it stayed this way—
"So, can I ask again? About assistant director Park Sang-il?"
Tsk. Work was work, chit-chat was chit-chat. The reporter showed no retreat.
Go Kyung-min, call to Na Geum-dong bombed, looked helpless.
"Reporter—"
"Yeah, sure. I'll spill everything."
As Go Kyung-min tried awkwardly to deflect, Moo-young cut in.
All three sets of eyes widened in shock. For real?
"Sorry for holding back after bringing you all this way. As a rookie, couldn't help it—forgive me."
"Of course. As long as I get something fun now."
Lee Eun-a smiled brightly, sipping her coffee. Still more than half left.
Moo-young stared at it, muttering.
"But first, one thing I'm curious about. You said you'd write even trivial stuff. Do you handle things that won't be recorded?"
"Recorded? Like what?"
"Stuff outside your laptop notes or recorder."
"No, can't use that. Me or any reporter—we need records for backup. Keeps things clean if issues arise. No record, no story."
Oh ho. Good to know.
Moo-young's eyes sparkled as he stretched languidly. Perfect. No worries then.
"Hmm. Where to start? Park Sang-il, the AD. Right from our first meeting, vibes were off. Kept yapping about my looks..."
Moo-young recalled and recited their encounter smoothly. Bathroom break turned him nuts?
Jun-ho looked horrified; the reporter barely hid her grin.
"No way, really?"
"Yeah. Felt that vibe from then. Didn't expect it to blow up on set, though. Glad it wrapped okay."
Tap tap tap! Her fingers flew like Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Determined not to miss a word, reeling him in like a fisherman with a tight net, building tension.
"And then?"
"What else? Fans helped with makeup, so—"
Moo-young fed her curiosity straight, down to tiny details dredged from memory.
Jun-ho and Go Kyung-min's faces soured by the second beside him.
"M-M-Moo-young!"
The manager especially looked on the verge of tears. Wanted to clamp his mouth shut, but couldn't in front of her. And that relaxed posture!
"Shh. Bro, it's fine. Just a sec."
Moo-young silenced him with a finger to lips. Don't interrupt.
Go Kyung-min slumped like his soul fled. Jun-ho sipped tea, eyeing him like a madman.
"No way!"
As time passed, she was in ecstasy. No celeb had ever opened up like this.
She even clapped, thumbs up.
"Moo-young, you're gonna make it big. So straightforward!"
"Just write a good article. That's all I need."
"Of course, I'll pour my soul into it..."
Then it happened. The coffee cup by her laptop toppled alone, soaking keyboard and pants gloriously.
Splash!
"Huh?"
Blink-quick. Lee Eun-a stared blankly from cup to Moo-young.
"Di-did I...?"
"Yeah. When you clapped just now."
No sensation? Blink blink. So sudden, it took her a moment to process.
Moo-young moved first.
"It's all over the keyboard."
Clatter— He grabbed a wad of tissues, scrubbing hard. A few wipes, and blue screen with error popped up.
"Oh no! Oh no!"
"Whoa, epic. What now?"
"Hold on. Ahh! No!"
She shook off coffee, but the laptop was drenched.
Jun-ho and Go Kyung-min exchanged baffled looks. This... now...?
"Everything you wrote's probably gone."
"Oh no, can't be. Ugh, really..."
"Jun-ho, grab the hairdryer and dry it. Reporter, over here. We'll get you clothes to change into. Nothing fancy."
Moo-young guided her, signaling Jun-ho.
Jun-ho snatched the laptop, heading straight to the bathroom.
Bewildered Go Kyung-min just wiped the table, glancing around.
Bang!
In the bathroom, Jun-ho set it on the sink and cranked the faucet without hesitation.
Gush! Drown every corner, salvage nothing.
Meanwhile, Moo-young handed her sweats, consoling.
"Don't worry. Laptop's toast, but recorder's there."
"Y-yeah, true. Sorry for the trouble."
"No biggie. You're a reporter—expected."
Moo-young flashed a kind smile, stepping out.
"Take your time changing."
Bang!
Moo-young shut the door, eyeing the living room. Go Kyung-min cleaning furiously, ghost muttering into the recorder, layering noise.
She'll freak when she plays it back.
Instead of Moo-young's voice, just eerie sounds galore.
Sharing set stories was fine—staff all knew.
But like she said, can't use unrecorded stuff, right?
No records left.