The First NG
At first, nobody realized it was an NG.
Everyone simply assumed Lee Yeonjae had some timing he'd planned out in advance, or that he was preparing an ad-lib. That was how much trust he commanded. The PD, too, never once considered that this Lee Yeonjae could have forgotten such a simple line, so he held off on calling cut and waited.
It was only after ten seconds of dead silence that people began to sense something was off. And then Kim Hoyun—no, Lee Yeonjae—lifted his head, his face utterly blank, without a trace of tears.
"I'm sorry. I forgot my line."
"……Huh?"
It was Lee Yeonjae's first NG during the filming of Hello, My Summer. This was an actor who had wrapped even the most demanding scene—a heartfelt confession to Haram—in a single take.
The surrounding actors and staff froze for a moment, then caught up with the situation and started laughing.
"Whoa. I just witnessed Lee Yeonjae forgetting a line with my own two eyes?"
"I heard even Lee Jeonghyeon's never seen that happen."
"What, seriously? Then it's settled—we toast later to commemorate Yeonjae's first NG!"
Amid the giggling, Lee Yeonjae was a beat slower to react than everyone else. A refined voice slipped out through the corners of a smile he raised, slow and deliberate.
"I couldn't sleep last night…. If it's all right with you, could we take a ten-minute break before resuming?"
"Of course! We've got plenty of time—let's start again in fifteen!"
At the PD's call, everyone stretched. Shin Ayoung, who played Kim Hyeyoon, latched straight onto Kang Sehyun, who dodged her with practiced ease and made a beeline for Choi Injun.
Choi Injun patted the back of Kang Sehyun, who was muttering please, save me into his ear, and glanced sideways. The expressionless Lee Yeonjae was striding off somewhere with long, purposeful steps—and then he was gone.
'Huh?'
Had he moved so fast that he'd seen it wrong? Choi Injun blinked, recalling the expression Lee Yeonjae had worn just before turning the corner.
'Why… did he look angry?'
The sound of water gushed out, cool and steady, filling the narrow bathroom. He simply stared at the water pouring down.
'What a waste of water….'
It was a waste of resources. He should turn the tap off right away, but his hands refused to leave the sink.
"……"
The truth was, he wasn't sure he could bear being alone in the silence. Then came a knock, and a familiar voice through the door.
"Actor-nim. May I come in?"
He lifted his head without answering. His reflection in the mirror on the wall looked passable. Not stiffly frozen, and the corners of his eyes weren't reddened. Only after confirming there was no trace of anything that might invite a strange misunderstanding did he turn off the tap.
"Yes. Come in."
At the steady flow of his voice, the door opened carefully. Manager Ahn Jinbae hesitated at how cramped the bathroom was, but stubbornly hauled his massive frame inside anyway.
"……"
And then he said nothing at all. But strangely, the silent space suddenly felt noisy.
"Shall we go get tteok cake after we wrap up today?"
Perhaps it was those eyes, brimming with so much feeling, that made it so.
"You don't like tteok cake, hyung."
"But you do, Actor-nim."
"……Still, you don't like it."
"But you like it, Actor-nim. For me, that's enough."
The eyes looking at him held a whole spectrum of emotions. Worry, pity, curiosity, steadiness, warmth.
Why did that man always wear that kind of gaze? He already knew the reason. Because the man was his manager.
For that person, this was work. Work that had to be done. Just as acting was for him.
"Hyung. Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Are we close? At our level?"
Only after the unpolished sentence had left his mouth did he come to his senses. He was about to apologize at the sight of the faintly furrowed brow when the answer came back swift and sure.
"I think we are. And I hope you think so too, Actor-nim."
"……"
"What about you, Actor-nim? Do you think we're close?"
At that gentle question, only one thought filled his head to the brim.
'I want to see Angae.'
He missed Angae. That small child whose eyes, the moment they met his, filled with nothing but him.
For one instant, the fact that this place was reality was unbearable—painful enough to choke on. He wanted to go where Angae was. Right now.
"I don't really know either…."
In the end, what came out of his mouth was a foolish evasion.
He realized then that when you're suffocating enough, even sighs won't come.
"There's still plenty of time. It's not as if you need the answer this very moment, Actor-nim."
Right. What did it matter how close he was with Manager Ahn Jinbae? What did it matter why Noh Bihyeok had become his friend?
'Injun isn't a coworker anymore. He's family.'
What did it matter how close you had to get before you could use words like that?
What mattered to him right now was not passing his misfortune factors onto anyone else. Not causing harm to another person.
And for that, he had to do well. He had to act.
He couldn't get swept up in petty emotions, couldn't cling to a single line of dialogue. Frowning as he replayed the mistake he'd just made, he felt a hand settle on his shoulder.
"Actor-nim. May I ask you something as well?"
"Ah—yes, of course."
"You said you read the script over and over because a certain scene stayed with you."
He looked up, startled, into eyes that were calm and unmoved.
"Now that you've filmed that scene—are you satisfied?"
He didn't open his mouth, but the eyes meeting his already seemed to know the answer. Acting in front of someone who knew everything struck him as rather ridiculous, so he simply shook his head.
Manager Ahn Jinbae patted his shoulder as if that was answer enough.
"We'll save the tteok cake for next time, and on the way home, let's pick up some braised lotus root."
"…? Braised lotus root?"
"Yes."
Braised lotus root, out of nowhere? The absurd non sequitur scattered his tangled thoughts like mist.
The eyes looking back at him were brimming with quiet amusement.
"At dinner tonight, I'll put some braised lotus root on your spoon for you."
"……"
For a moment he was so taken aback that a helpless laugh threatened to escape, and he fought it down for dear life. Shouldn't the government be handing this man some kind of commendation? How could anyone work this hard?
But the words were too kind, too gentle to be written off as merely a manager's effort to cheer up his actor, and so he nodded quietly.
The plan to buy braised lotus root on the way home failed miserably. Because both of them had completely forgotten that there was a company dinner after filming wrapped.
"Cheers, everyone~!"
Someone's loud toast was met with a distracted "cheers, mmm…" as everyone ignored it and stared at the sizzling beef instead.
'At this rate, they'd be better off eating it as yukhoe.'
He was watching the meat vanish the instant it hit the grill when someone sat down beside him.
"Actor-nim. Look at this."
Manager Ahn Jinbae, whom he'd assumed had gone off to drink with the staff, had returned carrying a dish. Inside the dish was…
"What's this?"
"Braised beef, jangjorim. I asked the kitchen, and they said this was the only braised dish they had."
At that face, which looked like it was dying of disappointment, the laugh he'd been holding back slipped out this time.
"You went all the way to get this?"
"I did. Now, hurry and take a spoonful."
He looked so oddly delighted about it that he couldn't bring himself to say it's fine, and instead awkwardly scooped some rice. Watching the thick slices of jangjorim pile on top felt strangely strange.
"How is it?"
"……It tastes like jangjorim."
He chewed, then offered one more remark. "It's good. Thank you."
"That's a relief."
He glanced once at that grown-up, gentle smile, then dropped his gaze back to the bowl. The braised lotus root he'd eaten during filming had tasted somehow unsettling; the jangjorim he was eating now was actually quite good.
When the beef kept disappearing because the staff were eating like starving men, Manager Ahn Jinbae tried to order more, and Yeonjae stopped him. The jangjorim was plenty.
"Actor-nim—no, Yeonjae. Did I ever tell you I'm a real fan of yours?"
The singer Choi Injun, face flushed red, swayed as he slumped down beside him.
"Yes. You said it four times earlier."
"Ah, right~. Then did I tell you I'm a Bambi fan too?"
"Choi Injun. That's enough. How are you this drunk? At someone else's company dinner, no less."
Thank goodness. Please take him away quickly.
"Did you eat a lot of meat? Want me to order more?"
No—don't sit down…
Leaving the singer Choi Injun swaying like some soft-bodied cephalopod, the singer Kang Sehyun sat down in front of him. Yeonjae swallowed a sigh and answered that yes, he'd eaten plenty—but Kang Sehyun wasn't listening, his eyes already on Manager Ahn Jinbae.
"Manager-nim. Did he eat much?"
"He only had a few pieces of beef."
"Figures."
Then why did you ask me?
He watched, dumbfounded, as Kang Sehyun ordered an additional combo set without a moment's hesitation. But the man paid him no mind and changed the subject.
"I'm holding an exhibition next month. Want to come see it?"
"An exhibition?"
Right—he'd mentioned painting was his hobby. But a hobbyist holding an exhibition? That was serious passion.
"Yeah. I'll give you two tickets, so come with your manager. Got it?"
"Yes, I understand."
If he was handing out tickets even to Yeonjae, he must have invited quite a lot of people. Nodding along to a proposal that meant nothing wasn't difficult.
"You have to come. Have to. It's a private showing, so only a few people are coming. You have to come."
……So it wasn't meaningless after all? A flicker of doubt rose—was it right to invite him to something like that?—but he couldn't exactly take back the nod he'd already given.
Just then, the singer Choi Injun, still plastered to the floor, whispered up at him.
"Bambi, Bambi. There's something I'm curious about."
"Yes. Go ahead."
"Gasp—wait, are you finally accepting that you're Bambi? That's so cute…"
"……"
Kang Sehyun, who had been transferring grilled beef onto Yeonjae's plate, glanced at his face.
"He doesn't mean anything bad by it. We spoiled him rotten growing up. I'll apologize on his behalf. Sorry."
"It's fine."
What actually bothered him was the way Kang Sehyun spoke to a full-grown adult as if he were a real child. He'd looked it up—the singer Choi Injun was nine years older than him. Did people normally treat a twenty-three-year-old man that way?
"Bambi~. I'm really curious about something."
"Yes?"
He shoved beef into his mouth. Why was this so irritating.
If you can't handle your liquor, you should pace yourself and stop on your own.
Accepting drinks without thinking, swaying around without ever clearly saying what he wanted, having someone there to carry him safely home no matter how drunk he got—all of it grated on him.
He'd been barely holding back the irritation, unwilling to snap at a drunk man, and it was the question that broke it.
"Why did you want to do this drama?"
"……"
"I read every interview, and you only ever said the script was interesting. Which part was interesting? I've talked about it with people I know on Twit☓ too, and we just can't—"
"Because of the scene we shot today."
"Huh?"
"I wanted to film a scene of a family having a warm meal together. I wanted to actually feel what that was like."
In the script he'd first read, there was no romance line with Haram, and Kim Hoyun had been barely more than an extra—far short of even a supporting role. Among his handful of lines, one childish one had caught his eye: "I don't need a big sister, you know? Mom and Dad are all I need." And it had simply kept nagging at him, that was all.
"……"
Silence pooled all around them. That silence was what irritated him more, so he gulped down his water.
"No more questions, then?"
"Huh? Ah—yeah…"
"Then I'll get going. Enjoy your meal."
With superhuman effort, he smiled and rose. After politely bidding farewell to the director and the staff, he stepped out of the restaurant.
He waited for the substitute driver alongside Manager Ahn Jinbae, who stood quietly at his side. And as he waited, the wretchedness only grew.