An Applause for Attempted Murder
After hanging up the call with Manager Ahn Jinbae, I stood there blankly for a while.
It felt as though the words seven hundred thousand won were echoing around me, refusing to settle. When I failed to give any reaction at all, I could still hear his voice frantically insisting that, no really, this time he was hiding absolutely nothing.
"Ha."
Ugh, I'm exhausted. A prickling ache throbbed dully at my temples. The moment the closing ceremony ends, I'm heading straight to the orphanage to lie down. Practice… I can just do it with Angae.
I was shuffling along when something lying on the path suddenly caught my eye. It wasn't anything particularly unusual in shape, and it hardly stood out, but for some reason it struck me as deeply off. Without thinking, I sidestepped it—and even as I did, the thought crossed my mind: what is that?
"Hey!!!"
Then a thunderous shout erupted behind me. I turned to find Oh Seunghyun standing there, and with an expression of pure, boiling resentment at that.
"You—you! What the hell is your deal?!"
"…? Are you talking to me?"
"Who else would I be talking to? There's no one else here!!"
Oh Seunghyun had completely lost his composure, which was unlike him. He'd always been childish, sure, but with Park Haeun usually nearby, he'd never been this openly confrontational before.
"What's wrong? What's got you so worked up?"
The words came out far softer than I'd intended—soft enough that even Oh Seunghyun faltered for a beat.
I'd spent the past two months submerged in the character of Yuhyeon, and that immersion had begun with Oh Seunghyun. Maybe that was why the sight of him practically itching to throw a punch at me right then didn't feel all that unpleasant. Quite the opposite, actually. I knew now why he wore that kind of look.
"……What trick are you using? You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
"Seunghyun. If you ask a question I can actually make sense of, then I can answer it."
"Stop being so insufferably smug! You just dodged that thing, didn't you!"
Gritting his teeth, Oh Seunghyun jabbed a finger at whatever I'd just avoided. What is that?
I walked closer to check. It was paper—a sheet with a wad of gum, thick with saliva, stuck tackily to it. Going by the flow of the conversation, it sounded like he'd planted it there in advance…
"Just this…"
"What?"
So he'd gone to the trouble of preparing that, and now he was furious that I hadn't stepped on it? It was a astonishingly petty bit of harassment. Even little kids playing 'kick me' signs on someone's back set more elaborate traps than this.
I couldn't bring myself to respond, so I stayed quiet. But whether he read the context off my face or not, Oh Seunghyun's face flushed an even deeper shade of red as he shouted.
"I'm not angry because you dodged that one thing! You've dodged everything so far. The ball yesterday—you dodged it. The day before, the potted plant—you dodged it too! And the chair—I loosened the screws on one of the legs in advance, and when *you* sat down, nothing happened? Then another kid sat in it and it collapsed right away. What trick are you pulling?!"
Oh Seunghyun fidgeted, too worked up to contain himself. Watching him rant with his face completely crimson, I genuinely wondered if he might pass out from lack of air.
That said… the potted plant. That was you? There really is a special place in hell for people like you, you crazy bastard.
The memory of the pot that had shattered to pieces behind me as I walked, two days ago, sent heat rushing to my head in an instant.
"You—"
"Wow, this guy's actually insane, right?"
Those were the words I'd been about to say—but they hadn't come from me.
At the familiar voice, I turned to see Noh Bihyeok emerging from the alley with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"You took so long I came looking for you, and here you are… having this incredible conversation. I had no idea. Applauding the sheer confidence of someone who talks about attempted murder this openly—clap! clap! clap!"
Noh Bihyeok sneered as he gave a half-hearted round of applause, then thrust the phone he'd been holding straight toward us. On the screen was a speaker icon that any fool could tell was mid-recording.
"Oh Seunghyun, honestly, you too…. Save your excuses for the police. Lee Yeonjae, let's go."
Noh Bihyeok stopped the recording and tilted his head toward the street, so I quietly started walking. I was about to breeze right past Oh Seunghyun, who had gone deathly pale, before sighing and turning back.
"I'm saying this because you seem to have a misunderstanding—Haeun doesn't like me. And she doesn't like you either, for that matter."
"……"
"Stop here. I'm telling you this for your own sake. Because this is the point where it starts hurting you the most."
After all, Nabi was never going to fall for Yuhyeon. The script said so. Reality wasn't a drama or a movie, of course… but honestly, was it really so different? Not everyone gets to be the protagonist.
If someone had simply told Yuhyeon the truth to his face, he might have resented the person who said it—but at least he wouldn't have suffered chasing an empty hope. That was the heart I'd spoken from, but apparently the intent hadn't come across.
For a moment, Oh Seunghyun's jaw tightened—then his fist shot toward me. The incoming hand looked almost slow, but I was standing far too close to back away in time.
Not the face.
I had a close-up shoot tomorrow. So rather than attempt a clumsy dodge, I chose to raise both hands and shield my face.
But before I could feel so much as a graze of impact, the situation was resolved—by none of us. Not me, not Oh Seunghyun, and not Noh Bihyeok, who had lunged toward me with a hand outstretched.
"Stop it!"
"……Haeun."
Park Haeun came sprinting out of the alley, wearing an expression that practically begged the question—could this kid really look this ice-cold? The force of her presence made all three of us boys, myself included, freeze up.
"Oh Seunghyun. Come talk to me. Just the two of us."
Oh Seunghyun didn't offer a single word of protest. Like a docile lamb, he trotted off after Park Haeun. Whatever was said between them, by the time he came back he looked considerably calmer—and he apologized to me directly.
"Sorry. I went way too far with you all this time."
"Okay. Got i—"
"Okay? What do you mean, okay? Attempted murder gets waved away just like that? Oh Seunghyun, do you even have a conscience?"
The words were barely out of my mouth before Noh Bihyeok cut in, looking Oh Seunghyun up and down. The way he glared down his nose at him, shaking his head slowly, made him look like the perfect background thug.
I gave Noh Bihyeok a light push on the back and turned to Oh Seunghyun, who stood frozen like a statue.
"I'm not deleting the recording. When we get back to the classroom, I'm telling the teacher what happened. And the moment anything like this happens again, we go straight to the police station. Understood?"
"……Yeah. Do whatever you want."
With that mumble, Oh Seunghyun shuffled away, his steps drained of all their fight. Noh Bihyeok asked what Haeun had said to him, but she only shook her head.
And so an incident that could have blown up into something enormous wrapped itself up, more or less quietly.
That was what I believed, at the time.
"Hyung, do you happen to know which actors are at the set today?"
"I'm sorry?"
It was such an out-of-character question that I could feel Manager Ahn Jinbae flustering slightly—yet his answer came back crisp and immediate, carrying over the seat between us.
"Based on today's shooting schedule, we have Seong Ijun playing young Hyowon, and Kim Hyeonju playing the Queen Consort, for certain. I haven't been told about anyone else… would you like me to check?"
"No, it's fine. No need."
I gave a small shake of my head and leaned back against the leather seat. I could sense Manager Ahn Jinbae sneaking glances at me in the rearview mirror.
"Ha…"
Thinking of the perfume I'd spent all of yesterday fidgeting with, only to never even open the cap, kept pulling sighs out of me. I really need to break this sighing habit.
I was raising a hand to rub my dry lips when Manager Ahn Jinbae spoke up, carefully.
"I don't know if this will be helpful to you, Actor-nim… but I heard Han Seyeong has a magazine interview today. And from tomorrow she'll be filming a variety show in Jeonju, so I don't imagine you'll be seeing her for at least three days."
"……Thank you."
I answered, then felt sheepish and pulled my hand away from my lips. Glancing up at the front seat, I saw his profile, quietly focused on the road.
Did I give it away that badly? How did he know?
As I sat there in embarrassment, picking at my fingers, Manager Ahn Jinbae continued in a calm voice.
"You've never been rude to anyone or made it obvious, so please don't worry. No one else would ever know."
"……How did you figure it out, hyung?"
"You suddenly started talking about that perfume, so… when I looked it up at home, I found an interview where Han Seyeong mentioned using it. I just kept the thought to myself on the off chance it mattered."
The moment he finished, his turn signal blinked and the car swept smoothly into a right turn. Without a single jolt, he eased into the parking lot and slotted the car between the tightly packed vehicles as though it were nothing.
I'd been untangling my thoughts, trying to figure out how to explain myself, when Manager Ahn Jinbae turned around with his usual, unbothered expression.
"Ready to get out? Just let me know when you are."
The way he acted as if none of that conversation had ever happened made me pause for a beat. Hmm… I mean, it's not like I mind him not asking. Though if I were him, I probably wouldn't be that curious either.
Only after I nodded did he finally cut the engine, telling me to wait a moment. Manager Ahn Jinbae got out first, hoisted a bag stuffed full with a portable fan, cooling pads, towels, and more, then opened my door for me.
"I can open doors myself, you know…"
"Is that so? Well, I happen to enjoy opening doors for you, so please bear with me."
At my mumbled embarrassment, Manager Ahn Jinbae laughed. He said accidents happened often around film sets, where cars crowded together, and asked to hold my hand just until we got inside—so I took his empty hand, the one not carrying the bag, in mine.
We came to a stop in front of a building that looked, even at a glance, far larger than my school gymnasium.
I was about to film. Real acting, this time.
A faint wave of nerves rose in me, and as I took a small, deep breath, Manager Ahn Jinbae turned back with a face full of earnest intensity.
"Actor-nim. You remember, right? If anything feels off, you call me right away. I can help with anything, so don't hesitate—that's my job!"
Maybe because we'd had this exact conversation in the car, his last words landed with a strange, loaded weight. I turned my head and met his eyes.
Alright. Let's give it a shot.
"Oh…, Yeonjae! You're early…!"
"Yeah. Morning, hyung."
Stepping into the set, I spotted Seong Ijun in his shabby costume. His casual attempt at acting familiar, dropping honorifics, looked painfully awkward.
If I got awkward too, it'd be a total disaster, so I deliberately kept my tone flat.
"You look good even dressed like that, hyung."
"…! Wh-what are you saying…"
Seong Ijun averted his eyes, his face turning faintly pink. But true to someone who'd started filming a whole week before me, he wandered the set with me, pointing things out and introducing me around.
Since I'd arrived a good two hours early on purpose, time was generous—but when a staff member asked me to get changed in advance, I headed into the dressing room. The dragon robe, intricately tailored from deep navy fabric, felt wonderfully soft to the touch.
I stepped back out of the dressing room, still uneasy about the unfamiliar sensation of the fabric wrapping around my arms.
"Oh my! Look who it is. Yeonjae, that outfit suits you perfectly."
"You really must have been a crown prince in a past life. Wow…, what a shame. If only you could just stay in it."
The staff members, who until a moment ago had kept a slight, polite distance, all came flocking over at once. The costume designer wore a genuinely wistful look as she smoothed down the folds of my robe.
"Seriously though, Yeonjae. It's such a good fit…!"
I heard an audible gulp beside me, and Seong Ijun looked over at me with a bright smile. I turned my head without thinking—and froze the instant I met his eyes.
"……Thank you."
In Seong Ijun's round eyes, staring straight into mine, a familiar emotion was rippling.
It had been so long since I'd seen that look that, for a moment, it almost felt like a reunion.
Hyung. You don't like me, do you.