He's Not Usually Like This

He's not usually like this, is he?

And so the day of the full table read for Backstage arrived.

Putting acting ability aside, the cast was stacked with big names. Five actors in total would play the group Icarus in Backstage, and three of them were currently active idols. The remaining two were rookies — one who had already debuted once before, and another who had come up through the trainee system.

"Wow, I've never seen this kind of turnout for a public script reading."

"Well, it's not every day Buster and INB are both this hot."

Reporters and a swarm of fansite photographers had staked out positions from the very entrance of the building housing the reading.

"Oh, they're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠walking in together."

Then Yoon Jay and Yoon Do-jun made their appearance, and the waiting crowd hammered their shutters in a frenzy to capture the two of them.

Inside, the reporters invited for publicity took their seats and sat through the first table read of Backstage alongside the cast.

They've got some chops, I'll give them that. Still awkward, though.

Can't really tell anything from a reading alone, I suppose.

Ugh, a few of these actors feel like they wandered in off a web drama set.

Huh. Yoon Do-jun is actually pretty decent?

Both INB and Buster were members of groups with massive world tours and dominant chart runs at home. People knew that some idols could act at a respectable level, but nobody had expected them to be good out of the gate. Most assumed that since Yoon Jay was the lead, he would simply carry the acting on his own.

"I mean, come on — what kind of group name is 'Icarus' anyway? It's like they held a ritual asking to fail."

"Hyungs, word is we're getting a new director."

"Replaced by who?"

Ji Gwanghyun, who would play Yoon Jay's father in the drama, clicked his tongue inwardly as he watched the young actors working so earnestly.

Hmm, well now...

Their diction and breath control had clearly been drilled — the fundamentals were well-taught. But their lack of depth showed through all the same, plain as day.

Ji Gwanghyun had come out of the same theater troupe as Moon Changmin, and even now the middle-aged actor moved fluidly between stage and screen.

If I go pointing things out, they'll just write me off as a cranky old-timer...

His gaze drifted toward Yoon Do-jun.

That one seems to have something.

Perhaps it was the presence of the lead actor sitting right there — Ji Gwanghyun's eyes slid to Yoon Jay, seated directly beside Yoon Do-jun. These two are brothers, they say?

Ji Gwanghyun had been content simply to look forward to matching scenes with the junior colleague Moon Changmin had praised so extravagantly. After all, his character would never cross paths with Icarus in the story.

But Yoon Jay was a different matter.

He had scene after scene tangled up with Icarus. Yoon Do-jun was no concern — there would be plenty of chances for crash-course lectures. The other actors, though, were in that awkward middle ground where it felt improper for Jay to intervene.

How do I make this work?

If the actors sharing the screen with him were relatively weaker, then Yoon Jay, acting at his usual level, would stand out all the more sharply for it — and the drama would suffer for it. Either he'd have to throttle himself down to match their level, or bend the whole atmosphere of the show around them so the audience never sensed the seam.

And yet.

What am I supposed to do about this...

I have no intention of killing my own performance.

Yoon Jay turned his script page and looked at Ji Gwanghyun — and in a single beat, the light in his eyes changed. As soon as he set the mood, Ji Gwanghyun carved deep lines into his face and became the stubborn old chairman.

"Father."

"How many times have I told you? At the company, you address me as Chairman."

At the sight of the two ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠actors anchoring their voices low and layering them with weight, the atmosphere of the reading room — which had gone slack for a moment — snapped taut again. The quiet click of reporters' shutters could be heard here and there.

"The entertainment division, out of nowhere? I believe you're mistaken about something, sir."

"It's no mistake. Wouldn't it be good for you to take on a wider range of responsibilities?"

A wider range of responsibilities, my foot. It's not as if you're ever going to hand me the group. The muscles around Yoon Jay's face shifted almost imperceptibly.

Where the earlier actors' back-and-forth had felt like a web drama, the subtle friction between this father and son radiated pure prestige drama.

God, he's cool.

Yoon Do-jun had thought he'd done well enough himself, but watching his brother was a different league entirely — and the fire under him blazed hotter.

"Great work, everyone."

"See you on the first day of shooting."

As the reading wrapped and people began to disperse, Lee Junseo made his way over to Yoon Do-jun.

"Hey, Do-jun."

"Junseo hyung."

"Were you always this good at acting? We're both so slammed we never had time for lessons."

INB and Buster ran into each other constantly on music shows and joint overseas concerts, so the two of them were already reasonably friendly.

"Honestly... my brother crammed it into me last-minute."

"Seriously?"

Lee Junseo shot a glance at Yoon Jay, who was talking with Ji Gwanghyun.

That was no joke, what he did back there.

Seizing the atmosphere out of nowhere and yanking the whole scene forward... it was a transformation beyond anything Junseo had imagined for himself back when he used to dream of acting. Though in reality, all he remembered was sweating bullets just trying not to stumble over a line.

Why does everyone assume I act as a hobby...

He'd sat atop the idol world so long that his instincts were razor-sharp; he knew perfectly well that nobody in this room expected anything of his acting. Which was exactly why what Yoon Do-jun had shown was such a surprise. He hadn't just spat out lines for a simple reading — he'd gestured, moved, performed. The writer and director had actually gone wide-eyed staring at him.

"So, um — is your brother busy? I was hoping to ask for some advice too."

His agency had practically shoved him into the contract, but Junseo had his own genuine ambition for acting. And besides — he was more or less the second lead here. At this rate, he'd be completely buried under Yoon Jay's spotlight. That thought, somewhat calculating, had also crossed his mind.

"He'll probably like that? It's about acting, after all."

"Really? Can I give it a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shot, then?"

"Come on."

Thrilled that his brother was finally getting the recognition he deserved, Yoon Do-jun cheerfully led Lee Junseo over to Yoon Jay.

"Hyung."

"Do-jun. Didn't you say you have a schedule after this?"

"Yeah. This is Junseo hyung."

"Nice to meet you. I've enjoyed your music."

Yoon Jay offered the reply with practiced courtesy.

"Hello, hyung! Just call me comfortably — we've met before, remember? At the awards show."

"No. As of today, we're meeting for the first time."

...Huh? Yoon Do-jun tilted his head, puzzled. My brother's not the type to draw lines like this?

When someone approached him this warmly, Jay would usually smile and meet them halfway, and they'd be fast friends within minutes. It wasn't for nothing people called him a human magnet.

"I heard from Do-jun that you've been giving him a lot of acting guidance... I was wondering if maybe you could help me as well?"

Lee Junseo had caught the faint undercurrent in Yoon Jay's tone too. But he didn't let it scare him into retreat.

Ah, so he's got drive.

That makes this easy. Yoon Jay stroked his chin, hiding the smile at the corner of his mouth.

He had no intention of flattening his acting down to the level of these still-green kids. But this was also his first time headlining a drama, and he had a real stake in its quality.

The trouble was that a drama set ran on a different tempo than a film set. With crank-in only two days away, there was no time to sit anyone down and coach them properly.

Think back to how it was done before.

So he decided to use the same method Director Shin Ji-won had employed with Kang Hajun on Intermission.

In the story, Seo Geonwoo — Yoon Jay's character — and Seo Jihu, played by Lee Junseo, were brothers raised apart, and the air between them needed to stay distant and awkward. The two actors getting chummy this early would only hurt the drama.

"Ah, well... Do-jun picked everything up so quickly."

"Could you help me out too, by any chance?"

"I'm sorry, but that won't be possible. I have another schedule coming up, so if you'll excuse me—"

He didn't care how Lee Junseo ended up thinking of him after this. It was fine if the kid never figured out his intention at all. It was for the sake of the drama, nothing more.

Faced with such an open rebuff, Yoon Do-jun's mouth hung open in dumbfounded silence.

"Wha — huh?"

My brother is NOT like this! More flustered than anything, Do-jun stared after the broad back retreating into the distance.

Lee Junseo scratched his cheek, thrown off balance.

"Hmm... is it because I'm that bad?"

"No, no. My brother's not like that."

"Really? Then maybe he's just having an off day?"

Junseo felt a flicker of irritation but didn't let it show. I'm from a pretty major group too, you know. Does he just not want to be close? Or — is this what actors call seniority politics? Writing me off already because I can't act?

It's really not that...

Yoon Do-jun stole an uneasy glance at Junseo's darkening expression. Stuck in the middle, he was the only one left squirming.

And so the reading ended, and the first day of shooting drew near. Even though his call time wasn't until later, Lee Junseo showed up at the set early to greet the Backstage staff.

"Junseo, you really didn't need to come this early."

"Still, this is my first drama. I wanted to get a feel for the whole atmosphere."

"Well, well. Somebody raised him right."

The director laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder.

Just then, Yoon Jay appeared on set. Fitting for the man who would play a cold-blooded executive, he wore an immaculate suit, hair swept back from his forehead.

It's the first time in my life someone just walking closer has felt like violence.

Thank God that hyung never went into idol work. If he had, he'd have stolen the entire industry's rice bowls. Lee Junseo trotted over and bowed his head.

"Hello, hyung!"

"Oh. Hey."

The eagerness was so much like a dog waiting for its owner to come home that Yoon Jay ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠barely concealed his bewilderment.

"Hyung! My fans sent a coffee truck for the set — go grab some!"

"Thanks. I'll enjoy it."

And then he walked straight past. Something competitive ignited in Lee Junseo's chest. Before this drama ends, I'm going to make that man acknowledge me.

"You two just don't click."

Junseo tried one goodwill gesture after another after that, but Yoon Jay answered in clipped tones and slipped away at the first opportunity — as if the very sight of him made Jay uncomfortable.

"Seriously, you two don't click at all."

"H-he's really not like that, my brother..."

"Like it or not, that's what I'm seeing with my own eyes."

"But—"

Lee Junseo shot Yoon Do-jun an aggrieved look, then let out a long sigh.

"Fine. It's my own fault for thinking help would come easy."

"Mm... yeah."

Yoon Do-jun's eyes darted every which way. The truth was, he'd heard something from Yoon Jay beforehand.

He'd been over the moon about appearing in the same production as his brother — and his brother, busy stoking Lee Junseo's acting ambitions, hadn't spared a single thought for him.

If I'd known this was coming, I should've fought for the Seo Jihu role myself. The older brother had nixed it, claiming that being brothers in real life and on screen would give him cognitive dissonance. Yoon Do-jun chewed glumly on his straw for no reason at all.

"Do-jun. Eating properly?"

"Yep!"

But his sulk never lasted long. Any time Yoon Jay fussed over him — checking he'd eaten, slipping him little kindnesses — Do-jun melted on the spot.

Lee Junseo, meanwhile, ground his teeth at every casual dismissal.

"You said you worked with Yoon Jay before, right? Was he always this cold?"

"No way. He was super kind. Warm with absolutely everyone."

"Then what's his deal today?"

With hundreds of eyes on a filming set, there was no way their little drama went unnoticed. The staff began to murmur.

"Director, should we really just leave this alone?"

"It's fine. This is all planned. Jay asked for it."

"Planned? What kind of plan?"

The director thought back to what Yoon Jay had come to tell him after the reading.

So this cold distance was a set piece, staged deliberately to mirror the drama itself.

If the lead actor takes that kind of initiative off my hands, it only makes my job easier.

The director never saw it as overstepping. In truth, he hadn't had much fire for Backstage to begin with — a rookie writer's script, an idol drama; he'd privately written off its chances of success.

Yoon Do-jun, who carried a fair bit of weight within Icarus, turned out to act better than expected, so there was nothing to fix there.

As for Lee Junseo, practically a co-lead, the director had plenty he wanted to say — and swallowed all of it. Every note would only highlight the gulf next to Yoon Jay's relentlessly polished performance.

Whether there's any way to raise the boy's game, though... that, I suppose, remains to be seen.