Well, Anyway, This Is What Happened.
Finishing his long explanation, Seong-o held out his soju glass.
So much has happened in the meantime.
Woojin had been completely unaware that his own name had even floated around as a potential replacement for the lead in Hanbando.
The agency must have kept it under wraps out of consideration for him, since he was laser-focused only on Yeonsangun.
Well, even if he'd known, it wouldn't have made much difference. He didn't have the luxury of time to pay attention to Ahn Jong-hoon anyway.
"Cheers."
Woojin clinked glasses with him. As he downed his shot, a swirl of emotions washed over him.
He couldn't deny his ill feelings toward Ahn Jong-hoon. Honestly, it felt downright satisfying. Denying that would be a lie.
Still, there was a twinge of pity too. Stepping in as the lead for a drama that wasn't just pre-broadcast but already airing? That was a massive gamble for any actor.
Someone had to do it eventually, but volunteering for that spot—especially without a single moment to analyze the character—was no easy task.
Compared to Yoo Tae-seok, who'd had ample time to build his portrayal, it was only natural for Ahn Jong-hoon's acting to come across as lacking.
In the end, just accepting that role—where even a solid performance might only break even, and a flop would invite a torrent of backlash—earned Ahn Jong-hoon a genuine round of applause from Woojin, purely as one actor to another. This wasn't personal; it was professional respect.
"Seong-o."
"Yeah?"
"If I'd been the one replacing him, would it have turned out okay?"
Woojin gave a wry smile. Hearing the cold, hard reality of the industry lurking behind all the glamour left a bitter taste.
Even actors basking in popularity and attention could vanish in an instant. That was showbiz.
"Who knows. But hey, hypotheticals, right?"
Seong-o grinned and continued. "Still, I think you could've pulled it off."
"Why's that?"
"How many auditions have you done? I could bet my life savings no one your age has read more drama scripts than you."
Was it that much? Well, yeah—500 auditions just at his old agency alone. Back then, at this point, he'd probably done at least half that.
Having tackled countless scripts, he'd naturally analyzed and performed a wide range of roles. With Woojin's method of diving headfirst into a character the moment he got the script, even if his mind forgot, his body would remember.
That was why Seong-o was so confident Woojin could've delivered even in a rushed drop-in. No one knew Woojin's effort and diligence better than he did.
"Thanks. You've boosted my confidence big time today."
"Nah, just stating facts. Cheers again."
The soju tasted sweet as honey. Sharing drinks with a good friend like this, free of worries, talking shop about acting—it was a different kind of happiness from the thrill of performing itself.
"Anyway, Jong-hoon seems to have a real chip on his shoulder about you. Like, intensely."
"He's always been that way. What's new?"
"Nah, lately it's different. He blows up the second your name comes up."
Woojin chuckled and refilled Seong-o's empty glass.
Ahn Jong-hoon, who hadn't even treated him like a fellow actor after snatching that role and succeeding with it, now overreacted to his name alone. It felt oddly gratifying hearing that.
"It's only been six months since the Daehan Arts Awards, and he's already burned through two managers. They all quit saying they couldn't hack it."
Seong-o's face soured again.
"The company's pushing me to take over... Anyway, it's stressing me out lately. What should I do?"
Woojin silently patted his shoulder.
Everyone had their own struggles in their own positions. He felt guilty there was still nothing he could do for Seong-o, who'd always helped him through tough times.
"Level up even more, and sign with me later?"
Seong-o grabbed Woojin's hand. Like any manager, his dream was to start his own agency.
"Obviously. With you, no questions asked—deal."
"Sweet. Hey, but..."
"Yeah?"
"When I start my agency, you know, at the beginning..."
Seong-o lowered his voice cautiously.
"Can we skip the signing bonus? Honestly?"
"Pfft—hahaha!"
Woojin nearly fell backward, laughing so hard. Their laughter filled the quiet shop.
"No charge for you. Don't sweat it. Bro's gonna make it big soon enough."
"Talking like this feels good. Anyway, since Jong-hoon revs up at your name alone, avoid clashing if you run into him."
"I don't sweat him. Shooting's got me swamped as is."
"Wanted to catch up face-to-face and brief you on everything. Figured you'd be clueless about outside news, buried in filming."
"Thanks, man. Drink up. Let's get wrecked tonight!"
"Cheers!"
They raised their glasses once more.
At the same time, Woojin thought to himself: Just focus on acting like an actor, on what I need to do, and success will follow naturally. No need to obsess over Ahn Jong-hoon.
They'd cross paths on set someday anyway. He'd succeed spectacularly, right in front of his eyes—just like he'd vowed leaving SJ Entertainment.
But... if Ahn Jong-hoon picked a fight first?
He wouldn't dodge. He'd meet it head-on with acting, like a true actor.
'Can't wait to run into him on set.'
Woojin downed the rest of his glass, a relaxed smile on his face.
Before long, the year-end festivities arrived. Christmas was upon them.
December 24th, Christmas Eve.
Woojin spent a joyful holiday with his mother and sister. They ate out, bought gifts for each other, toured Seoul's tourist spots, and snapped photos.
His sister had masked his face perfectly with a mask, hat, and scarf. Still paranoid about being recognized, she nagged, "That's why I said stay home!"
But it was their first family outing in years, and she was thrilled—bouncing around everywhere.
"Your words don't match your actions. Classic Baek Woo-hee, my big sis!"
"Ugh, seriously... Hey!"
They bickered on the outside but cherished each other deeply. Their mother smiled all day watching her son and daughter.
It had been ages since he'd seen her genuinely this happy.
After that meaningful holiday, Christmas Day arrived.
"Alright, let's hit the road!"
With Jun-an gripping the wheel and letting out a hearty shout, they headed back to the Mun Kyung-sae Open Set after two weeks away.
Woojin greeted the crew and cast, then headed straight to the makeup room to prep.
Four or five makeup staff swarmed him.
"Makeup's gotta be the toughest part."
Even at his cute complaint, they shot back, "We'll shave off five more minutes today. Challenge accepted!"
They plopped him in the chair without mercy.
'......'
Makeup took quite a while, so Woojin closed his eyes quietly and focused on awakening Yeonsangun in his mind.
It had been the rule since day one: for the staff, Woojin's performance began the moment makeup started.
Because Yeonsangun's makeup alone took over two hours.
The culprit? The beard.
Usually, they'd apply a full prosthetic beard, but for Red Petals' Yeonsangun, it was different. With all the close-ups on his face, a full piece would look fake.
Plus, to add the gravitas of a Joseon king to Woojin's pale skin, the beard was essential.
Growing one was out—maintaining the exact look would've been impossible.
So they glued on every single hair by hand. Add the topknot and base costume, and two hours was actually speedy.
"Done!"
The staff who attached the final beard hair stretched triumphantly.
"How long?"
"Whoa... 49 minutes."
"Three minutes faster than last time? Insane!"
"Precisely 3 minutes and 14 seconds quicker. Woo-hoo!"
The makeup team hugged and cheered. You would've thought they'd won Olympic gold in a team event.
To make the boring wait fun, they'd invented a game: "Makeup Olympics."
Like athletes shaving records, they timed Woojin's sessions—beard, topknot, costume, makeup, all "events."
Fueled by a beard spurt, they flew through the rest. And finally...
"1 hour 51 minutes!"
They shattered the two-hour barrier.
Hugging again in joy, they mobbed Woojin. Joy shared doubles, right?
Dazed for a second, Woojin soon joined their celebration.
Great way to kick off his set return.
"Filming starts soon!"
At the FD's call, Woojin stepped out.
Today's first scene was the one he'd waited for over break: "Go check it out. You'll be shocked." Finally confirming the outing pass from his cute junior.
Thung! Thoom-thoom! Thung!
In the palace banquet hall, Gyeonghoeru Pavilion. Yeonsangun, sunk in a mire of pleasure and revelry, unable to escape.
His mind was lost in a hallucinatory paradise, a cathartic haze—but his outward appearance was the opposite, growing gaunt and lifeless by the day.
Shunning women for booze alone, dark circles hung under his eyes, his gaze unfocused and slack.
The king neglected the realm, leaving the people starving, while his table overflowed with delicacies.
"Strike the strings louder! Louder than all the sounds of this land combined! Don't stop the music until I feel like living here forever!"
Yeonsangun bellowed, glass in hand. It sounded benevolent in his good mood, but everyone knew: silence meant death.
Reading his volatile eyes while playing—the court musicians' gazes darted ceaselessly, fingers trembling on their own.
One slip meant execution, so they sweated bullets, pouring everything into the performance.
Ziiing~
The haegeum's melody filled Gyeonghoeru.
Elated, Yeonsangun leaped up, adding poetry to the rhythm:
The wind through the rain blows warm and harmonious,
Fragrant peaches and apricot blossoms dye the spring hills in gentle hues.
In the Silver Hall must dwell some aged, loving parent—
When flowers bloom, let them share this joy.
He reveled in earthly paradise, yet longed for the one he couldn't bring here: his mother. The grief that tormented him seeped into his voice, raw and piercing through the melody.
Yeonsangun bowed his head slightly.
And at that moment—
Grab.
Someone clasped his limp hand.
His gaze shifted, landing on...
"Your Highness. Lean into my arms."
A woman standing there. Jang Nok-su smiled seductively.
It was her first appearance.