Terror Mouth
“If you grab glass shards like that, you'll cut your hand.”
“I'm sorry—what?”
I'd grabbed the woman's hand in a hurry as she reached for the shards, then let go just as quickly.
“Sorry for grabbing your hand without warning.”
“Oh, n-no, that's—”
“You should wear rubber gloves when you clean this up. Do you know where the cleaning supply closet is?”
“Ah, um, I'm... I'm new here, so. I'm sorry. Um...”
The woman looked completely lost. I reassured her it was fine, then dredged up the evacuation map I'd glanced at when we first entered the building.
Cleaning staff usually used the emergency exits, so that was the most likely place to look.
“I'll go find it, so could you keep people from coming through that hallway? Someone could step on the glass.”
“Oh, yes! Um, but actor-nim, you—”
“I'm fine.”
I'd practiced enough to sidestep minor misfortune, the kind that put a shard of glass in your foot. Still, just in case, I crossed the hallway with my eyes fixed carefully on the floor. Before long I found the office and borrowed the cleaning supplies, and when I came back, Jinbae-hyeong had stepped out into the corridor.
“Hyeong, why did you come out?”
“You weren't coming back, so I got worried.”
“I'm sorry. Actually—”
“One of the staff told me what happened. Still, next time you need to tell me before you go off on your own. Understood?”
I said I understood and hooked my pinky around his in a promise. In the few seconds it took for that exchange, the woman had already swept up nearly all the glass.
She dropped the last shard into the dustpan and bowed deeply in thanks.
“Thank you so much for your help.”
“I didn't really do anything. You're not hurt anywhere, are you?”
“No, I'm okay. ...Though it wasn't me who dropped them. That person just tossed them carelessly.”
Her voice trembled, and finally a sob broke through. Caught off guard, I could only watch as she shook her head at herself, apologized, and hurried away.
Really... making a living is hard.
Her face looked so young—clearly a fresh hire fresh out of school—and the words left a bad taste in my mouth. It wasn't even my problem to shoulder, and yet the world really did seem to have nothing easy in it.
By the time I got back to the waiting room, the shooting prep was finished, and we moved to the studio set.
“Whoa. Looks like we went all-out this time.”
Singer Kang Sehyun's words were no exaggeration. The studio was already brimming with props designed to drench us in last summer's scent. I'd wondered why they'd asked us to wear white and blue, but now it made sense—the set had been dressed up as the sea.
“We'll clip on the mics and go straight into the live broadcast. The MCs will screen most of the comments before reading them, so don't worry too much about what comes through. Oh—over there! Leave that one where it is!”
The staff were scrambling around like headless chickens today. Was this normal? Going live without even a rehearsal?
Something felt off, and when I glanced around, the other actors' faces were clouded with the same unease. That was when Han Seyeong, seated beside me, clicked her nails.
“...?”
When I looked at her in confusion, a long fingernail pointed at my phone. I pulled it out of my pocket and found a string of messages from her.
Ah, so that was why she'd texted instead of talking. There hadn't even been a gap to type a reply—the messages had come pouring in one after another. Something about that quiet force of will made me give the tiniest nod.
Slipping the phone back into my pocket and turning my head, I caught Han Seyeong wearing a painted-on smile. The other celebrities were no different. They'd all sensed something was wrong too, and while their eyes darted around with unmistakable suspicion, every one of them kept their expression perfectly in place.
Scary. This world is terrifying.
The more I learned, the scarier it got. And yet, at some point, my own face had settled into a smile to match theirs.
Amid that strange stillness, only the staff moved busily. Up near the cameras, a PD I'd never seen before and a comedian I'd never seen before were chatting away, cackling together.
I have no idea what's going on here... but one thing I do know.
Today's interview was not going to be easy.
Hong Jiyeon, a new employee hired just recently, bustled about at the direction of her direct senior.
“Hah—*wheeze*. Should this go here?”
“Yeah, put it there. God *dammit*, of all the luck—Terror Mouth shows up. What a miserable day.”
“Terror Mouth?”
At Hong Jiyeon's question, her senior wiped her face roughly and answered.
“Ahn Gukyoung, the guy MCing. That's his nickname. 'Terror Mouth.' His mouth spews terror.”
“Ah... But wasn't announcer Seo Ye-na supposed to do it today?”
“She and PD Choi are old classmates. Those *bastards*. We sweated over every last prop and every line of the script to end this thing as nicely as possible, and then at the very last minute they swap in PD Choi. Ugh, nothing ever goes right.”
As a rookie, Hong Jiyeon couldn't fully grasp the behind-the-scenes politics of the broadcasting station. But she understood one thing: the reason today was so chaotic had something to do with this PD Choi.
While listening to her senior's grumbling, Hong Jiyeon replayed what had happened earlier. PD Choi had thrown the props at her so carelessly that she hadn't caught a single one, and the glass cups had all shattered.
The coarse words pouring out of a stranger's face she'd met for the first time today stung, but there hadn't even been time to cry. She was just swallowing down the lump in her throat and bending over her work when—
'If you grab glass shards like that, you'll cut your hand.'
She looked up at the gentle voice, and there stood a fairy—no, Lee Yeonjae. He'd asked her this and that with a flat, matter-of-fact face, then vanished without a trace, only to return with cleaning supplies as if by magic. While he spoke with the man who looked like his manager, she'd swept up the shards as fast as she could and fled.
Real celebrities really are built differently.
She left the storage room and returned to the set with her senior, and Lee Yeonjae was the first thing Hong Jiyeon saw. Seated there in a white shirt, light-wash jeans, and deep blue sneakers, he looked like a man living in a world of his own. Even sitting in a backless chair, his spine was straight and tall—a posture like a ballerina's.
The eyebrow scar really suits him.
Against the overall crisp, clean mood, that little scratch through his brow threw off a spark of boyishness, catching the eye. Hong Jiyeon lowered her head and looked down at her own clothes, filthy with dust.
She hadn't eaten a thing all day, yet strangely, a complicated taste filled her mouth.
I chose to work here, didn't I...
Ever since she was a student, she'd wanted to work in the glittering world of entertainment. But in barely three months, she'd learned the truth: she would never be one of the glittering ones herself. She'd be used like a polishing cloth—willingly thrown against the gems to make them shine—and then tossed away.
Ha. I should just quit at the end of this month.
The smell of her own sweat drifting off her with every movement felt pitifully shabby today. She looked at Lee Yeonjae, who was conversing with the MCs wearing a polished, radiant smile.
A kid like him has probably never felt an emotion like this in his life.
She was staring blankly at him, lost in those tangled thoughts, when it happened. With no time to look away, her eyes locked straight into those black ones.
Oh—
In the brief moment Hong Jiyeon held her breath, the black eyes blinked slowly, and his head dipped in a small, precise bow. Was that... for me? Dazed, she bowed her head back without thinking. When she raised it again, Lee Yeonjae was already looking toward the MCs.
“Ahhem! A lot of people are wondering what Lee Yeonjae's next project will be. I mean, when you hear 'Lee Yeonjae,' you think romance, right? Let me guess—romance!”
“Haha, well. Nothing's been decided yet.”
A calm answer came back to the MC's wildly exaggerated performance.
“Oh, come on~ Don't be like that! Just tell me—between us! Romance or not? Hm?”
He just said nothing's been decided, so why is he pushing? That bastard.
Hong Jiyeon and the staff all frowned. Lee Yeonjae let the words trail off with a smile, then smoothly slithered the topic elsewhere like a snake. Apparently that irritation got under his skin, because Ahn Gukyoung, the MC, was seen narrowing his eyes faintly.
Kang Sehyun had been about to open his mouth to follow the topic Lee Yeonjae had steered toward when Ahn Gukyoung cut in.
“Well then, while we're at it, let's throw a question at the Emperor of Romance himself, actor Lee Yeonjae. Actually, one of our viewers has been asking in the comments nonstop.”
Ahn Gukyoung glanced sideways at the monitor, pretending to read.
“Han Seyeong, who plays Jung Hanna, versus Shin Ayoung, who plays Kim Hyeyoon—which one is actor Lee Yeonjae's type?”
“......”
Somebody strangle that bastard.
A wordless noise rippled through the staff. PD Choi, the one man who should have been reining him in, just snickered at his monitor.
What kind of question even is that...
Wasn't Lee Yeonjae fourteen years old? Asking a minor that kind of question was insane enough—but he was doing it with Han Seyeong and Shin Ayoung sitting right there. The women, thrown onto the list of options without their consent, had smiles frozen gently in place.
They said he was a has-been comedian—apparently he still thinks it's the old days of variety TV.
Hong Jiyeon watched Lee Yeonjae with mounting unease, but he just kept smiling serenely, saying nothing. Ahn Gukyoung kept spewing filth—“What, don't skip this! Is it the fresh-faced Han Seyeong? Or are you into the sexy noona type—Shin Ayoung?”
Lee Yeonjae didn't spare the two women so much as a glance. He looked only at the MC and smiled, meaningfully.
“...Are you that curious about my type?”
“Huh? Well, of course! Someone keeps asking in the comments, you know~”
No such comment had ever been posted. Ahn Gukyoung said it shamelessly, grinning ear to ear. Hong Jiyeon frowned at the ugly sight—and then Lee Yeonjae opened his mouth, looking almost shy.
“It's a little embarrassing to say here. Could I tell you privately? Ah—but I don't have your number, sunbaenim.”
“...?”
“If you give me your number, I'll get in touch with you a little later.”
“Wha—is he—am I getting asked for my number right now?”
Over Ahn Gukyoung's flustered voice, a quiet one drifted down.
“You don't want to?”
“No, I—goodness. You just come right in swinging like that? Is that how young people do things these days?”
Ahn Gukyoung shot up from his seat, face a picture of confusion. The other actors seized the moment and burst out laughing, hahaha and hohoho. Seeing them crack up at his own reaction, Ahn Gukyoung seemed to get his swagger back; he rolled his shoulders with a big guffaw and played along.
“Fine, fine, whatever. Send me your contact later, then.”
“Yes. I honestly didn't plan to ask in front of everyone like this... How embarrassing.”
“Ack, enough, enough! When you do it, I can't tell if it's acting or a joke!”
At the sight of Lee Yeonjae lowering his eyes bashfully, Ahn Gukyoung cried out with theatrical exaggeration. The actors laughed for him once more, and the show finally moved on to a different topic.
“That kid's no pushover either.”
“Yeah...”
“Looks soft as a marshmallow, though. I guess to survive in this business, you need that kind of mental armor.”
Hong Jiyeon gave her senior's words a vague answer and stared absently at Lee Yeonjae.
And so the live interview, crammed full of unpleasant, slippery questions, came to an end.
“Oh my god, they're saying we hit ten thousand live viewers!”
“Whoa! That's huge!”
“Hey. Keep your voice down.”
The staff's whispers gradually died away. And then a silence settled over the set, thick and heavy.
“......”
With the cameras off, the actors stopped managing their expressions. All of them wore the same cold face as they yanked off their mic lines without ceremony.
“Wow, great work today, everybody! So—what do you say? Team dinner tonight?”
And right through that silence, Ahn Gukyoung came ambling over, oblivious as ever. In the middle of a room where not a single person was answering him, the one who broke the silence was an unexpected figure.