I Wish They Were an Actor

The day of principal photography for Special Task Force 808. Early dawn.

Wonsung-ing, one of the members of Lee Sua's group chat, was once again pulling an all-nighter, drifting through the internet. Web surfing was her hobby, pursued beneath dark circles gone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nearly black. She spent her days savoring every kind of bait across every kind of community, but today was a little different. No matter which community she visited, the whole place was burning over a single subject.

"...There really is every kind of trash bastard out there."

Every kind of trash. That, of course, meant Director Kim Jungi.

A video that simple had racked up well over a million views. The whole internet was in an uproar. To Wonsung-ing, it was only natural. Kim Jungi's films were fairly famous in Korea, and because she lived on nothing but the internet, she knew the weight of his name better than most.

Those videos, thrown up at a sprint, had already broken two million views apiece. Reaction to Kim Jungi was still spreading like wildfire. A man who had succeeded, falling without end — and falling, no less, under the weight of his own enormous crimes. It was reason enough for people to lose their minds and tear him apart.

The Yang Ha-rin Gallery that Wonsung-ing usually frequented was no different.

Wonsung-ing posted one of her own.

And, since the thought had occurred to her, she wrote one on the Lee Sua Gallery as well.

It was, as always, a post tossed up as a joke. Between friends, the game of demanding an explanation over every little thing was common enough.

So — really. Sincerely.

Not even in her dreams had she known that this post would later become holy ground, the kind of post netizens make a pilgrimage to.

Kim Jungi had been socially beheaded, and netizens everywhere were paying attention and pouring out their outrage. The industry was no exception. Talk of Kim Jungi was circulating through every corner of it.

But the direction of the Special Task Force 808 production team was slightly different. The public was meeting the incident with the simple thought that Kim Jungi was a criminal for the ages, yet these people had one more thing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠holding their interest. Naturally, the center of it was Lee Sua.

First, Mystic Entertainment.

Seo Yeon-ju was eating with sandwich sauce smeared at the corner of her mouth. Kim Seonil's face crumpled, and he wiped her mouth clean with a handkerchief. Seo Yeon-ju looked revolted.

"Wow, I just got goosebumps. What are you doing?"

"I was about to gag. Eat cleanly."

"Worry about yourself. Anyway — where was I."

Seo Yeon-ju took another enormous bite of the sandwich and went on with her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's.

"It's Sua. No matter how I think about it, it's strange. Everything that's happened so far is too incredible to write off as luck. What if she really did receive some kind of divine calling?"

"You believe in spirits? Pathetic."

Seo Yeon-ju cleanly ignored Kim Seonil's reaction and turned her head toward Kim Iseo. Sure enough, Kim Iseo was different from Kim Seonil. She was rubbing her chin, plainly giving Yeon-ju's words serious thought.

"Hmm...."

"CEO. Right? Hard to refute, isn't it? Strange, isn't it, how good things keep happening when you're around Sua? And it's not even just once or twice."

"I don't believe in phenomena like divine possession either. But it's also true that we're reaching the point where we can no longer ignore Sua's instincts. She seems to see with a field of vision unlike ordinary people's."

"Exactly. It feels like she sees something the rest of us can't."

"Ah."

Kim Iseo lifted her head, as if something had come back to her a beat too late.

"Come to think of it, Sua asked me to find her a script related to music. I simply filed the remark away without much thought. I meant to hand one over if I happened to come across it someday...."

"What? No! Absolutely not! We have to get her one right now!"

Seo Yeon-ju, who had already finished the sandwich, said it at once.

"From now on, whatever Sua says, we just greenlight it!"

And the group chat.

But it was not the chat where the entire production team had gathered. It belonged to the supporting actors and extras who had been set alight by Sua, and who had met beforehand to practice again and again. Their group chat.

The videos Park Dohui had posted shared one simple point. The shock Kim Jungi had set off was so enormous that it was no longer Kim Jungi alone being named and struck — the actors entangled with him were taking hits as well. And that damage was so severe it had become a problem of its own.

The men connected to him were being witch-hunted under the suspicion that they might have been accomplices. The women were tormented by the suspicion that they might have been victims. Either way, the blow to an image could only be severe. Statements of clarification were pouring out of every agency.

For Special Task Force 808 itself, it was nothing more than watching a fire burn in the next neighborhood over. By some miracle, they had taken no damage at all.

And the editing room of the short film Sword.

Director Park Joon had watched Kim Jungi fall in real time at the gathering of Bareungil, the Right Path, and now, because of it, he was giving even more of himself. It was true that Kim Jungi had been his teacher, but he had no wish to walk that same road to the same end. He meant to keep this passion burning without cease, and prove himself by winning an award, come what may.

"Split the monitor into three screens."

"Yes."

"Play versions A, B, and C at the same time."

"Yes, sir."

Three cuts played at once, and what filled the screen before their eyes was Lee Sua's face.

"The acting alone is absurdly good."

"That's why we can suffer through this and still be glad. Other sets suffer because the actors can't act. At least the acting here is excellent. The editing is what's making our heads explode."

Across the desk, disposable coffee cups and energy drink cans had risen into a Great Wall. Several days of all-nighters had naturally produced this wreck of a landscape.

"Director, so this actor turned down Director Kim Jungi's project, right? And yet she snatched up Sword without a second thought?"

"That's right."

"Ha. Really.... For a rookie, Director Kim Jungi's project must have been an enormous temptation.... The skill is one thing, but she's loyal, too. And this is an industry where love vanishes the second money shows up."

"If you've understood that much, then edit properly. At this rate we won't even finish. The submission deadline is almost on us."

Of all the authorities a director holds, the most powerful is the cut. Once filming has piled every scene up like raw material, trimming it, cutting it, and placing it is purely the director's ability. That is why a director may stamp a name into the end credits, and at the same time claim the work as their own. Because their judgment is what decides.

Yes. Park Joon knew that as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well. And still a groan leaked out of him as he tore at his own hair without realizing it. The people seated in a row beside him, draining energy drinks, were no different.

"Director, this is really too hard...."

"Right. It just won't cut in a way that feels like it fits...."

Around then, Park Joon made his decision.

"All right. We'll have to play this one as a gamble."

"A gamble, sir?"

"Yeah. Let's leave every one of Sua's acting scenes exactly as it is."

"Pardon?"

The editing team's eyes went round.

"You mean we edit the other scenes to fit the runtime? Or do we accept the runtime running long...?"

"We accept it. The way I see it, the moment we touch even one of them, the flavor dies. I keep thinking she acted this way because she's Sua, not someone else. Let's trust her."

"Hmm...."

Most actors are faithful only to the performance they were given. But for some reason he could not shake the feeling that if it was Sua, she would have gone into the shoot with the finished work in mind as well. All the more because of the Kim Jungi affair that had piled on of late. To Park Joon, Sua had already come as no ordinary person, and that only deepened it. She was the one who had pulled Sword out of the trash, and the one who had seen it through to completion.

It was around then that the editing team came around.

"...Well. You're right. The original does seem like the best of them."

"Yeah. None of our cuts are better than the original."

In the end they began arranging Sua's scenes, those at least, without any editing at all. Park Joon drank his water and thought, quietly.

Right. If it isn't Sua, who else am I going to trust.

The commercial team for the no-name energy drink Extreme.

Vroooom—!

They were in a vehicle, racing in a panic toward the film studio complex in Jeonju. Their destination, within it, was the site where Special Task Force 808 would be shooting — and they were going, no less, to meet Kim Iseo, CEO of Mystic. Five of them in all. They had been riding in silence when one of them abruptly spoke.

"No matter how you look at it, this is a scam, isn't it?"

"Honestly, I'm uneasy too. Mystic is suddenly involved? And not some other drama — Special Task Force 808? What reason could they possibly have to consider the likes of us for product placement?"

It was language that lowered them to the likes of us, but no one objected. Extreme ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was unknown, and its sales were scraping the bottom. The team leader quietly scratched at his head. Even to him, it had all been far too sudden.

How did it end up like this?

Extreme was a product no one spared a glance. If this commercial produced no results, it was facing discontinuation outright. And despite circumstances like those, they hadn't even had the means to book a famous celebrity. All they had done was post a notice on the internet, and the people who came to interview numbered about three, Lee Sua among them.

That was also why they had called Sua back and poured out their resentment. Extreme had fallen so low that it had to cling to every single interviewee.

And suddenly, Mystic? And suddenly, Special Task Force 808?

How was he even supposed to put it — the feeling of reaching out to clutch at straws, and closing his hand around a lump of gold?

The team leader of Extreme shook his head.

"I don't understand in the slightest how any of this is working either. But even in a situation like this, one thing is absolutely certain."

Sparks leapt in his eyes.

"We have to seize this chance, no matter what. For our Extreme, a finer opportunity than this cannot exist."

No one spoke. They all nodded. He wasn't wrong. Soon a look of grim resolve rose over all five faces.

Meanwhile the protagonist, Sua, had been moving hard since morning. Today was the day of principal photography. Naturally she had to experience the script at least once more. That was what would give her the advantage on set. And so she was currently charging all over the hotel that served as her Special Privilege space.

Up to here, it wasn't particularly surprising. Even Sua's head had no trouble understanding it. If she threw herself in with everything she had, the work would be influenced for the better. Wasn't that it?

But.

"Ung?"

Sua stopped mid-step. There was a rather unfamiliar sight.

...This is a first, though?

Sua tilted her head.

At last, afternoon. The set.

Sua went straight into makeup. Three stylists were attached to her now, and they didn't even seem tired, throwing themselves into the work with startling heat.

"It's so strange. Why is doing Sua's makeup this fun?"

"Right? It doesn't feel like work at all."

For Sua, it wasn't a bad thing. If the people working beside her could take to it gladly, there was nothing better. However — there was one problem.

The problem is, I'm not having any fun. I'm bored!

Honestly, the first time she had been made up, it had been novel and exciting, and the time had flown. Once she had done it a few times and grown used to it, there was nothing more tedious. Above all, it took forever. Yeah — no matter how many times she sat through it, it took far too long! So Sua eventually decided she would just use her phone.

Of course she did not forget to drop the brightness to one. There was always the risk that someone nearby might see what she was doing. Sua was secretly proud that she possessed this kind of thoroughness. What should she call it. Sua Thoroughness.

Today, of all days, the chat was running hot. For Sua, that was a good thing. At least she wouldn't be purely bored.

A message arrived for Sua almost at once.

A little puff of laughter escaped her before she knew it. They bickered as a pack, but the group chat overflowed with life, and Sua liked this atmosphere. There was a flavor to it — noisy, and yet somehow steadying. In a way, it was the hometown of her heart.

But Sua's rest could not last long.

Click—!

A flash had gone off beside her. She turned, and there were Kim Iseo, PD Choi Heewon, and a good number of the Special Task Force 808 production and camera crews gathered together.

"...What is it?"

Sua blinked as she asked.

"We film the preparation process too. Once viewers start identifying with an actor, they get curious about what that actor looks like off the set. And this picture happens to be a good one."

"Ah."

Sua nodded. She understood the words. The news was still a little disappointing.

Auuu, then I can't use my phone.

The chat had been fun for the first time in a while, but she still didn't want to be filmed on her phone. Just as Sua began putting real effort into managing her image, Kim Iseo went on.

"And one more thing. I just finished speaking with PD Choi. They'll probably come by around tonight about a beverage product placement."

"A beverage product placement?"

"Yes. It's a company so unknown, with results so poor, that I was a little puzzled — but I figured there must be a reason you chose them. Don't feel too burdened. In this arrangement, we are entirely the ones holding the upper hand."

Sua remembered then. Right. She had applied for a beverage commercial too. She didn't know how any of it had been arranged. Her smaller schedules were managed by Kim Iseo now, and Sua figured that if it was Kim Iseo, she would have handled it well enough.

Looking at it this way, things have changed a lot.

Even when she had first applied for that commercial, she had been the one with no leverage at all. And now what was this? She had only done her own work diligently, and somehow she had become the one holding all the cards. It was the sort of thing that made her motivation surge.

And then.

"...?"

Sua suddenly felt more presences crowding in nearby. She was used to people's eyes, but today's were a little different. Some, looking at her, neatly pressed their palms together and bowed their heads. Others, out of nowhere, made the sign of the cross.

...What? Have they lost it? Why are they doing that?

Things Sua could not possibly understand were unfolding in front of her, and that was when PD Choi Heewon burst out laughing.

"There's a rather strange story going around the cast these days. Keep Sua nearby, they say, and your luck improves."

"What am I supposed to be, some mountain spirit...."

"Miss Sua and a mountain spirit don't suit each other. A fox spirit who grants wishes — wouldn't that be closer?"

A fox spirit? An arctic fox spirit? The instant she heard the word fox, Sua's brain snapped it straight to an arctic fox.

...Right. Because I look like an arctic fox.

Her mood suddenly improved. Sua drew her spine even straighter and pushed her chest out, and several of the male actors caught their breath without meaning to.

Ah.

It was around then that PD Choi Heewon remembered something.

Come to think of it, Director Go Taemin is coming today....

He wondered whether he ought to tell Sua in advance, then shook his head. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifted, just slightly.

No. Watching will be far better. Sua won't get nervous anyway, so there's no reason to warn her ahead of time.

Meanwhile, at Go Taemin's film studio.

Dadadan—

Director Go Taemin sat before a grand piano, drawing out one melody after another. Hair gone white, frame gaunt to the bone — at a glance, he could have been a musician himself. Then, at a certain moment, his fingers stopped.

"You're here?"

"Yes. If you stopped playing because of me, I apologize."

There had been a visitor. The staff member bowed his head at once, and Go Taemin waved a hand lightly, as if to say it wasn't worth a thought.

"No. I was only playing while I waited a moment."

"Then that's a relief. In that case, please look at this first...."

The staff member held a tablet out before him, the materials arranged with clean precision. It was all about Kim Jungi.

"Director Kim Jungi is completely finished."

"Yes. He was doing things behind my back that I never even guessed at."

Go Taemin's expression was not a good one either. Kim Jungi, too, had once been a director overflowing with passion, and a member of Bareungil. That a friend he had shared meals with on set for so long had turned into an ugly criminal left a bitter taste. But this was a crime. It was not a thing that could ever be covered for.

"A sinner paying for his sin is only natural. What worries me is something else. The trouble he's causing isn't just one or two things."

"You're telling me. Of all times, he has to grab you by the ankle now, when you're trying to begin a new work. The worries pile up from every side."

"What can you do. All we can do is give our best to the work we've taken on. That's enough about Director Kim Jungi. The audition footage?"

"Yes. I brought it. There's a lot. About ten people."

Director Go Taemin watched the interviewees in the footage the staff member showed him. The role he was searching for was a single one. A role with autism, and at the same time a genius for the piano. A role whose eyes changed in the presence of music.

A short while later, after he had gone through every video, Director Go Taemin shook his head and let out a sigh.

"Haa."

The autism performance, he could set aside. There was not a single interviewee he could consider worthy of a piano genius. With a face that made plain how little he wanted to, he pointed to two of them.

"We'll keep these two for now. Honestly, even these two aren't much."

Skill could be grown with practice. But somehow, there was no interviewee who gave off the feeling of truly loving music. What Go Taemin wanted was the feeling of someone who could not live without it.

"Director, these days instruments are often handled in post. Sometimes they mix CG in cleverly, too. The higher an actor's rank, the less time they have to practice an instrument separately...."

"It can take a long time. That's better than making a disaster."

"I wonder if you might be hoping for too much. I offer the advice with respect."

"I know I'm hoping for a great deal. But there must be at least one actor like that somewhere in the world. I only want to say that finding them is my work. If one is a director, that is simply what one ought to do."

Go Taemin said as much, and handed the tablet back.

"It's time. Let's go see Park Dohui's acting."

"You look tired. Are you really going in person? Honestly, it's enough if I go alone. I'll record it in high quality and bring it back."

Go Taemin shook his head.

"I have to see it myself. If I'm a director."

Night.

The set of Special Task Force 808.

Sua stared blankly around her.

Waaaaah....

The 808 headquarters, planted square in the lot, was a spectacle with the lights on, as if it were a building where people truly worked. And all around it, police cars sat with their siren lights burning. Her heart began to pound. At last, it felt real. From this moment, she would step into principal photography.

Sua stood blankly for a while. The feeling was too new. She looked rather like someone who had frozen in the middle of a scramble crossing, and the reason was simple: the people around the still figure of Sua were moving like mad, their hands full of one thing or another.

"Did you check the lights? It's a night shoot, so it matters."

"The lights are fine. I think sound said earlier they need to see the PD once?"

"Check the floor carefully and make sure nothing's been dropped! This is principal photography! We cannot leave even a single blemish!"

Yellow tape had been strung here and there to restrict the lines of movement, and marks reading Special Task Force 808 were posted all over the set. A detective's life is busier by night, and fiercer by night, so they were beginning principal photography now, beneath a full moon hung vast and bright.

Amid all of it, PD Choi Heewon had one more duty. Receiving a distinguished visitor, and showing the proper courtesy.

Director Go Taemin, arrived on site, smiled brightly.

"PD Choi. It's been a while."

"Aigo, Director Go, you've come? We have to start shooting right away, so I'm afraid the welcome is poor. Once the shoot is over, you must at least have a cup of coffee."

"It's all right. Being allowed to watch is welcome enough."

And so PD Choi Heewon hurried back to the set, while Director Go Taemin began to examine the surroundings with care, starting from the edges. A film set always became the source of some manner of inspiration.

Then, at a certain moment, his gaze came to rest on a single figure. Hair dyed white. Even in a mere glimpse of the profile, the cut of the eyes and the line of the nose were sharp past all measure, and both expression and movement had locked stiff — standing perfectly still.

Great tension, most likely. An actor growing nervous was common enough, but Go Taemin felt something uncanny in a different place. In the strange atmosphere the figure carried, especially. Each time the siren blinked red, then blue, the white hair took the color with it, and each time it did, the person themself seemed to change. The grain of a canvas whose impression shifted with every stroke of paint.

"Is that person an actor, too?"

He asked himself. He answered himself. Then he nodded.