A Secret I Want to Hide
"A few more weeks?"
"Yes. At least until the drama's outline is set."
"Ugh. You sure that's okay?"
Na Geum-dong smacked his lips regretfully. Even a small gig could bring in a fortune with just a day or two of work!
But Ha Moo-young was firm.
"The contracts are long-term. We have to sync with the Music Thru members first, so hold off on the rest for now."
In this market, rates could skyrocket overnight. With the drama picking up steam like this, he needed to hunker down and wait.
Better to skip a million-won spot that lasts a year than hold out a month for a hundred-million-won gig spanning six.
"If that's how you want it, no choice."
"Just a few more weeks. Not as long as it sounds."
"True, but still..."
"These days are so packed, a week flies by in a blink. Ugh, look—lunchtime's almost here already. Eat, slack off a bit, and boom, it's time to head out."
Moo-young stretched dramatically, as if exhausted. His body ached, but his mind was sharper than ever.
Lots of downtime waiting on set, sure—but every day was filled with acting.
"I'm so happy these days."
The words slipped out unbidden, like a sleepy confession. He grinned, rubbing his face against the pillow.
"Got a comfy new place, movie's killing it with running guarantees, drama's doing great. Acting every day. I'd die happy."
"What then? Fans would grieve themselves to death."
"Oh. Can't have that."
"Good segue—that's exactly the issue. You've got an official fan cafe now."
"Whoa, really? Where?"
"On two major portals, but it'll probably consolidate under N's. Bigger crowd there."
Fan cafes usually stuck with the largest one for agency comms. Sure, YouTube and Weverse had taken over, but cafes were still user-friendly for older fans and a traditional hub.
An official one was a must.
"Fandom names are usually fan-voted."
"No way. What's mine?"
"Not set yet. I'm posting on SNS about the cafe launch and a name contest. Toss in any prefs subtly."
Fans decided, but artists' wishes got priority—if not trashy.
"Ha Moo-young Ha-mo-ye~? Pfft!"
"...Still half-asleep, huh? Go Manager, brew him some tonic. Kid needs a clear head even if his body's beat."
"Kidding! Just messing. I'll think on it."
Moo-young dropped the joke, lips pursed like picking a tricky exam answer. No genius idea popped up, though.
"Take your time. Next."
"Busy day, huh?"
"Duh. Why do you think the boss came himself? No rest days like yours, we'd never chat."
"Fair point!"
"Alright, next: variety schedules."
"Here we go."
Plague and You Are a Star, I Am a Star dropping around the same time had tangled everything up. He'd skipped most ambiguously.
"But aren't most locked in already?"
Cable and terrestrial biggies were covered. Plague leaned on Yu-na and Hi-jun; You Are a Star, I Am a Star on Song A and Pyo Rai.
"Mine? Stars Are Great, Full-On Movie Exploration Special, Entertainment World interview."
All promo-studio chats, variety in name only.
"Mongnett called—Netflix secondary run promo. Variety spots then, since time's flexible. Low difficulty with Yu-na."
"I'm in. Whatever."
"Okay that, then You Are a Star, I Am a Star. Two offers."
Na Geum-dong ticked off fingers.
"Event-style: KPOP Center Studio opening stage. Match Music Thru schedules—"
"Whaaat?"
"Second: Great Challenge. Know it?"
"Heard of it."
Cable hit: pros vs. guests in wild challenges, handicaps for experts.
"Saw the pro gamer one. Blindfolded Go master too. Winner gets prize money, right? Million won?"
"Kong-soon's keyboard-mouse bit was fun. Oh, chef with toy gear."
Pros dominated handicaps; the absurdity sparked laughs. Wild ideas, hot reactions weekly.
"Genre set if we join?"
"Nah. Greenlight, then script."
Matched his image, skills, concept.
"Civilians easier to sync. Say yes, we adjust. List any specialties."
"If times work, love it. Count me in."
Sounded fun. Short shoots, doable.
Na Geum-dong nodded. "Specialty?"
"Uh. Don't really have one."
"...I'll handle it."
Korean exam ace? Decent college entrance scores. Acting? That's the job. Hmm. Nothing standout.
"Meeting over?"
"All? Go Manager?"
"For now. Interviews piling, but we're picky. No rush."
Moo-young flopped back, hugging the blanket. Then—a thought.
"Wait, really doing KPOP Center Studio?"
"Discussing. Could promo Music Thru. We'll update."
"Whoa."
Acting Do Ha without tone-deaf flak was miracle enough; now KPOP Center Studio, idols' dream stage?
Moo-young shook his head in awe. "Ha Moo-young's made it. For real."
"Gonna climb higher."
"Obviously. I'll build you a company building."
Na Geum-dong beamed thumbs-up at the sweet kid. So earnest!
He grabbed his jacket, standing. "Rest up, Moo-young."
"Heading out?"
"What's the point sticking while you sleep? Gotta grab Tae-seok."
CEO-manager hybrid. Cut costs, hustle.
"Oh, Tae-seok hyung's gym schedule? Wanna join."
"Gym? Smart. Body maintenance pays off."
"Stamina's lagging too. Anyway, drive safe."
"Yep. Rest. Go Manager, good work."
Go Kyung-min stayed for evening call; Na Geum-dong waved off at the door.
"Sleep more. Hungry, get up."
"Yesss—"
Moo-young waved from blankets. Go Kyung-min drew blackout curtains, shut the door.
Quiet officetel. His brief break ticked away.
* * *
"Hey!"
"Oh, Moo-young. Rested well? Glow's back."
"Right? Sleep's the best medicine."
Evening broadcast station return. He shone amid the weary.
Pale skin screamed real rest.
"Ro Min?"
"Left earlier. Missed him?"
"Man, guy's slammed. How's he juggle concerts on top? I'm swamped with one."
"Tell me. Sit. Washed up?"
Moo-young plopped in makeup chair, script out. Today's scene...
"Ooh."
"Love scene at last. Kyaa!"
"Why so thrilled, noona?"
"Young lovebirds flirting? Adorable!"
Moo-young chuckled at the sappy coordi. All acting anyway.
As he memorized, Song A arrived.
"Unnie, here. Hi, Moo-young."
"Welcome. Chilly tonight?"
"Wind picks up after dark. Haha."
Close with two-years-older Song A now. They sat side-by-side for makeup.
She grinned mischievously at the script. "Do Ha charm bomb today."
"Yeah. Watch out, noona. Oh, heard? Music Thru collab for KPOP Center Studio maybe."
"Huh? That's fixed."
"Whaaat? I'm freaking."
Chatting idly into standby. Moo-young rose for studio; Song A hesitated.
"Go ahead? Finishing up."
"...? Sure."
Weird? Makeup done. He tilted his head, took position.
Minutes later, Song A appeared, hair flipped. "Sorry, late."
"Yes. Shooting."
No face change. She fidgeted, smoothing her arm.
"Ah."
Moo-young caught the awkward shift. Long sleeves daily, even spring in-story—but today, sleeveless.
'Embarrassed? Unexpected.'
Idols rocked bolder stage fits. He puzzled to the piano.
Today's love scene: Do Ha kissing Mi-ran's hand, affection overload.
"Noona. Hand."
Song A extended awkwardly, smiling nervously, gauging him. Something to say, but silent.
"Going. Ready—! Action!"
Moo-young focused, lacing fingers with soft Mi-ran's hand. Pulled slow, kissed the back. Smack—Do Ha gazed up, eyes blazing desire.
"Okay, cut! Again."
"Close-up?"
"Yes."
Fixing clothes post-director's call, Moo-young spotted concealer smeared on his palm.
"Huh?"
What? Why...
"Again. Standby! Ready, action!"
Interlocked again. Traced to slender wrist.
Realization hit.
'Ah.'
Song A's wrist caked in concealer, smudged by his kiss—faint scars beneath.
Self-harm marks.
'That's it.'
Lingering in dressing room to cover them.
Face flushed, Song A signaled desperately. Couldn't tell staff, no one consulted.
"Mi-ran."
Accessories hid on stage, but drama needed bare wrists.
Do Ha murmured low, drawing her hand close.
"I like you."
Angled off-camera, brought wrist to lips—like a vampire sucking blood, soft yet fierce.
"Okay—cut!"
"Moo-young, nice ad-lib?"
"Just face this time."
Oblivious staff chuckled, resetting. Blushing Song A hid her wrist, mouthed to him.
"...Thanks."
"No biggie."
"Don't tell anyone."
"Obviously. Everyone's got secrets. But, sunbae—like Do Ha and Mi-ran, let's lean on and trust each other more."
He wiped concealer from lips, smiling.
"Then you wouldn't need this."
Song A fanned her heat. Grateful for no questions, just help.
"Partners, right? Partners."
"...You'd crush as an idol."
Total leader vibe. Moo-young just smiled at her tease.