Snowball Effect
A small snowball rolled down from the top of a hill grows several to dozens of times larger by the time it reaches the bottom. The snowball effect is a metaphorical expression for how tiny actions can trigger cycles leading to massive results.
It was also the perfect phrase to sum up Burnt and Hidden Marks, the third and fourth feathers in his cap.
At first, it had been nothing more than a snowball so fragile it could melt away at any moment.
The Burnt script had simply been lying discarded on the floor, ignored by everyone.
But by sheer chance, it caught the toe of Baek Woojin as he passed by, drawing his eye. The moment he picked it up, everything changed.
A single tiny action pulling the trigger.
From that point on, the snowball began to swell exponentially, fueled by the power of positivity.
In the meantime, what started as coincidence—what was destined to be—had forged a deep bond between Woojin and Ra Ho-chan, a man who had risen from student films to become one of Korea's top directors.
Through their collaboration, Woojin washed away the misplaced resentment he'd harbored for so long toward the cherished half of his heart and Uncle Youngjae.
He even created an opportunity to heal the festering wounds his mother and sister had silently carried, sacrificing their own well-being for his sake.
In this way, vivid processes of Woojin's growth—as an actor and, even more so, as a human being—were layered onto the snowball.
Moreover, as one of the 'basic terms' he'd seen in the white room first summoned by the diary stated:
5. The past returned to via this system may partially differ from the contractor's actual past.
The unfolding now diverged from his actual past.
Hidden Marks, unfilmed in the original timeline, was on the verge of seeing the light of day.
The snowball Woojin had set rolling was still far from the hill's base.
How much larger would it grow?
Just imagining the events yet to come amplified his anticipation to the max.
To make it real, 'Shall we give it a go...'
The morning after wrapping Scene 24 of Hidden Marks, Woojin sat on the living room sofa, greeted by pleasant sunlight.
—Srrk.
He opened the diary, glowing faintly red, for the first time in ages—to complete the final page of Hidden Marks, one only he could fill: 'Scene #31'.
He then bit the pen tip.
"Hmm..."
What had been the happiest moment in firefighter Baek Seong-ho's life?
Woojin pondered long from his perspective.
His conclusion: 'Even as a firefighter, as a man, quiet time alone with the woman he loved most.'
Probably this.
He gripped the pen in his right hand and began writing fluidly across the open page.
—Scratch! Scratch-scratch-scratch! Scratch! Scratch-scratch!
Meanwhile, the Seong-ho in the film was merely Woojin in outward form.
He carefully noted that this was his father himself, twenty years gone (in the original timeline), at the peak of his youth's blooming flower.
Of course, the film's era differed from his young father's days, so it bore no direct relation to reality.
Moments later.
—Whirr.
A soft glow, distinct from the sunlight, emanated from the diary.
A light he could now sense by feel alone, without looking.
How long had it been?
'Yes, proceed.'
—Flutter.
Holding the 'Yes' button down, the diary floated into the air, unfolding with a sound.
As always, a massive glow enveloped Woojin.
Today, especially, the light felt warm and comforting, like a lullaby sung by his father, mother, and sister.
Like counting sheep—one sheep, two sheep... In those brief yet unhurried five seconds, he was sucked into the flow of space-time.
* * *
If the virtual world of Burnt—his first step—had been at the heart of infinite darkness,
Then Hidden Marks' virtual world was the pristine white canvas he'd visited several times before.
A room surrounded entirely in white.
It evoked the digital theater where he'd watched Brother Kyubo's life story.
In the white expanse, one button commanded attention at the center.
And behind it, a screen.
Nothing special compared to prior white rooms.
But 'What's this? Meant to use it?'
There was one new item he'd never seen: black VR goggles.
'No way... V... R?'
Woojin barely contained his excitement.
In this era, unlike the original timeline, VR wasn't mainstream yet.
He'd never even considered experiencing a virtual reality screening in a virtual world.
"Pfft."
Woojin burst out laughing.
Paradoxical, sure, but what could top this for immersing in protagonist Baek Seong-ho's first-person happiest moment?
Anyway, this'll be fun.
—Swoosh.
Without hesitation, he donned the VR goggles and pressed the button.
—Zzzt, zzzt.
The dark screen before him lit up with a 'pop—', gradually sharpening.
※ Scene #31 ? Her
#C1 White wood house interior.
The coziest space in the world, with interiors blending to soothe body and soul endlessly. Wind through the open window gently rustles the curtains.
Even the flapping curtain sounds feel pleasant here.
♪♪♪♪♪~ A beautiful melody bathed his ears softly.
The sweet sound instantly brought a smile to Baek Seong-ho, stirring from light sleep.
Following the path woven by the notes, his gaze was stolen by...
"......"
A woman immersed silently in the piano.
Her focused form was beauty incarnate, her white dress accentuating her porcelain skin.
Seong-ho approached her slowly.
Moments later,
"Honey, you're up?"
She finished playing and smiled.
"Yeah."
Seong-ho could only reply curtly.
Gazing at her left no room for words—only happy smiles.
"Don't you need more sleep? You looked tired."
She rose and nestled into his arms.
This happiness outshone even the next moment's; it peaked anew each instant.
"Liar. You played to wake me, right? I know."
"Hehe, busted?"
He kissed her lovely cheek.
—Giggle. Laughter spilled like seeds.
"Wanna try that piece you taught me?"
"Huh?! You've been practicing?"
"Yeah. Wanted to play with you, so I practiced in secret."
"I'm touched!"
She taught piano at a nearby academy.
His firefighter duties kept him too busy for much time together.
Yet she'd never burdened him.
Instead, she cheered him as a hero, fretting more than anyone at local fires.
That made him feel even sorrier.
To share her hobbies and daily life, he learned piano from her whenever they could.
The music filled this home often empty from his absences.
He wanted to layer their duet into these melodies, leaving echoes.
This was a man's wish to always be with her.
The woman hoped he felt no burden between his duty and guilt toward her.
The piano symbolized their mutual care.
♪♪♪♪♪~ Their fingers intertwined like lovebirds on the keys.
Chopsticks March. Clumsy, off-key, yet pleasing to the ear.
As the shining duet ended, Seong-ho and she burst into laughter, gazing at each other.
This moment flowed slow, like a dream in slo-mo.
And soon after.
#C2 The scene shifted so seamlessly, he barely noticed the change.
Now, both wore aprons. The kitchen bustled with dinner prep.
—Chop. Vegetables slicing.
—Bubble bubble. Stew simmering.
—Sizzle. Glossy, mouthwatering meat grilling.
As enchanting as the piano.
But more enchanting still:
"What's this? Hahaha!"
Her endless laughter.
#C3 Blink—
Seong-ho felt his head jolt down sharply.
He snapped his head up in surprise, eyes flying open.
'Whoa!'
He barely stifled a yelp.
Lowering his head slowly again,
"......"
There she lay, asleep pillowed on his lap.
Her steady breathing.
Whew, almost woke her.
Seong-ho sighed in relief, stroking her hair.
At his gentle touch, a smile bloomed on her sleeping lips, as if in sweet dreams.
One hand caressed her hair, the other patted her shoulder.
"Sleep well, my baby."
His soft lullaby broke the silence, weaving another melody.
How much time passed?
Suddenly, Seong-ho murmured, gazing out the window,
'I wish today would stop forever...'
A full moon hung in the sky.
* * *
—Zzzt, zzzt.
The screen froze as his gaze neared the moon.
Confirming no more footage, Woojin slowly removed the goggles.
The emotions were vivid.
Seong-ho's guilt and gratitude toward her.
Her feelings for him, too, pierced deeply.
The aromas from cooking together.
The texture of stroking her sleeping hair.
The earnest wish, moon-gazing, for this moment's eternity.
Three cuts condensed his 24 hours, meticulously stirring Woojin's emotions.
"......"
Happy moments with his beloved.
Quiet memories with her.
A broad category.
But Seong-ho's happiest were far more ordinary, humble than Woojin imagined.
The joy in the mundane.
This VR awakened the preciousness of moments too familiar to cherish.
At the same time, 'People who sacrifice their own happiness to protect others'...'
The weight of a firefighter's life hit home again.
Right after experiencing his father's happiest moment, reconstructed for the film's present.
Amid the swirling heavy emotions, Woojin held back tears.
He'd promised not to cry anymore.
—Click.
He set the goggles down and pressed the button again.
—Whirr.
Everything but the white surroundings—the goggles, button, screen—turned to light, converging on Woojin's hand.
"...?!"
He stared blankly at the light.
Something formed in his grasp.
A storyboard book capturing the scenes he'd just lived vividly.
In a blink, Woojin was back.
Holding the gift from the virtual world—the capstone to the firefighter saga from Burnt to Hidden Marks, the grand journey's finale.