He Didn't Act As Kang Tae-il — He Became Him
Nam Inhu had thought about it all night.
The endless chain of thoughts never reached a conclusion. He showed up on set without settling on anything definitive, only to come face to face with the very face he'd been turning over in his mind since the early hours of the morning. And within the hour, he finally managed to reach certainty.
Lee Yeonjae is strange.
“Aw, I don't know about that one. He's just a kid—isn't a fingernail-ripping scene going too far?”
“He grew up among gangsters. That much is tame, honestly. It's not like he's getting stabbed.”
“What about a shallow cut from a knife instead? Doesn't a nail coming off bleed more?”
The discussion between Director Yoon Kang-yeon and the staff over just how badly Kang Tae-il could get hurt dragged on and on. Since the character was so young, any depiction of violence against a child demanded constant care. When no clear solution emerged, the director let out a sigh and called Lee Yeonjae over.
Asked what he thought would work best, Yeonjae made a vaguely puzzled face.
“Is a fingernail coming off really that extreme of a choice? I think it'd be fine.”
“You don't think it's too cruel?”
“You're not putting the hammer blow in directly anyway, right? A nail coming off is, well… nothing compared to that.”
“You're way too quick to say it's not your problem. If it were me… ugh, I just pictured it.”
Director Yoon shuddered dramatically. The staff chuckled at his theatrics, but Yeonjae alone didn't laugh—he simply stood there, staring off into space.
“Have you never had a nail come off?”
His head tilted halfway to the side as he asked. It was the look of someone genuinely, honestly puzzled.
“What? You have?”
“Yeah. A couple of times.”
“Twice?! When on earth—”
“When I was in elementary school. It doesn't hurt as much as you'd think. It all grows back in six months, too.”
At that deadpan delivery, everyone's faces went blank.
When someone asked how it had even happened, he just answered that he'd fallen down. How do you fall in a way that rips out a fingernail? Confusion was written all over the staff's faces. Yeonjae, for his part, looked like he couldn't understand why everyone was reacting so dramatically.
Watching that, Nam Inhu became even more certain. Lee Yeonjae is strange.
“Um, would it be all right if I sat here?”
“Oh, yes! Of course.”
He'd been watching a cluster of people talking from a distance when he suddenly felt movement beside him. It was Seong Ijun. Like Yeonjae, Seong Ijun had a way about him that kept a distinct distance between him and everyone else.
Nam Inhu calmly stole a glance at Seong Ijun, who had sat down and was reading his script.
“…? Is there something you wanted to say?”
“Oh, no, no. I was just staring because you're handsome.”
Startled into offering the compliment, he was rewarded with a courteous smile and a gracious thank-you. Terrified the conversation would die right there, Nam Inhu blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“You must be pretty close with Yeonjae, showing up for a special appearance like this.”
He was in the middle of berating himself—what kind of idiotic thing is that to say?—when the face in front of him changed. The business smile dissolved, and Seong Ijun's cheeks flushed pink.
“…?”
“Do we… really look that close?”
“Yesss…. Weren't you two having dinner together just yesterday?”
Seong Ijun nodded, looking bashful. Nam Inhu couldn't understand why anyone would talk about eating sushi with that much embarrassment, but he dutifully reacted with enthusiasm, keenly aware that he was speaking to a celebrity.
“He remembered that I don't eat meat very well.”
“Wow, Yeonjae has a great memory.”
“Right? He's so thoughtful.”
Isn't a good memory and being thoughtful two different things? The more they talked, the odder the conversation felt, but Nam Inhu just smiled.
“I was honestly shocked watching you act yesterday. Of course I expected you to be good, but seeing it in person was no joke.”
Seong Ijun clearly had real affection for Yeonjae, so Nam Inhu deftly steered the conversation that way. His intention was to keep things going—the connection would be useful, and there was nothing to lose by getting friendly—though he hadn't been lying, either.
Lee Yeonjae is strange. His acting, even more so.
“I've never met anyone like Yeonjae either. Just saying 'he's good' doesn't even begin to cover it.”
“Right. Actually… I practiced a lot too, in my own way. Not that it's any comparison, of course! It's just… I thought, hey, this isn't half bad, you know?”
Nam Inhu rubbed his temple with an embarrassed look.
“But then I watched Yeonjae yesterday and… wow. I found myself thinking, can I even call what I do acting?”
“…….”
“I mean, I've seen a lot of talented actors while shooting bit parts. Famous ones, too. Plenty of times I came away impressed. But yesterday….”
He couldn't even manage admiration. All he'd felt was a chill down his spine.
Lee Yeonjae's portrayal of Lee Jin-woo had been so natural it was shocking. The flicker of an eyebrow that wasn't in the script, the hesitation in his stride, eyes that seemed alive and moving of their own accord. Nothing was missing, nothing was off—the whole of it was Lee Jin-woo himself.
Even after the cut was called, the way Yeonjae stayed dazed for a few seconds longer had looked like a scene straight out of the film itself. Watching that, Nam Inhu's mood had sunk on its own. A flicker of self-loathing crept in: no matter how hard I work, there's no place for me.
But in a way… he'd thought it was for the best. Better that he'd never be measured against that flawless performance.
That little comfort crumbled completely the moment he watched Lee Yeonjae play Kang Tae-il.
It was simply a different person. There was no Lee Yeonjae, and no Lee Jin-woo either. Nothing about it resembled the character Nam Inhu had built in his own head.
Because Nam Inhu had performed Kang Tae-il—while Lee Yeonjae became him.
As Nam Inhu let out a long sigh, Seong Ijun spoke up gently.
“Don't compare yourself to Yeonjae too much. It's not easy, I know… but I've never once seen comparing yourself to anyone turn out well.”
“Have you never compared yourself to him, Actor Seong?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before he realized his mistake. He scrambled to apologize, but Seong Ijun just broke into a smile—an unexpectedly refreshing laugh.
“Of course I have. At first, anyway. But after talking to him a few times, that feeling just went away. He's too sweet to treat like a rival. And I'd hate to get swept up in what other people say about him….”
“What people say?”
What was that supposed to mean? He only asked because the words came out of nowhere, but the face in front of him froze in an instant.
“Ah—I'm sorry. Please pretend you didn't hear that. I shouldn't have said it.”
“Sure….”
Nam Inhu was curious, but Seong Ijun's face had gone so stiff that he couldn't bring himself to ask more. Seong Ijun shut his mouth tight as if he'd never smiled at all, and until Lee Yeonjae came over to join them, only silence passed between the two men.
“Whoa, what's wrong with your hand? Where'd you get hurt?”
At Kim Jin-ho's words, every eye snapped to Kang Tae-il's hand. Tae-il held up the bandaged hand with practiced nonchalance.
“Behold—the glorious badge of honor from fighting seven guys at once! …Kidding. I actually just tripped in an alley yesterday.”
“Aigoo, you clumsy thing.”
“……You can get hurt that badly just falling down? If it's bleeding, that's a serious injury, isn't it?”
At Lee Jin-woo's voice, thick with bewilderment, Kang Tae-il gave an awkward smile. C'mon, kid, just let it go.
“The alley's got a bit of a slope. Oh, right—are you sure about your homeroom teacher wearing a wig? That's not just a rumor?”
“I'm telling you, I'm sure! I watched him scratch his head real close today and the whole piece moved.”
Kim Jin-ho, blissfully oblivious to the sidestep, cackled and carried the chatter along. Jin-woo pretended to listen while sneaking glances at Tae-il's hand. The hand, bound tight in its bandage, twitched, then shifted subtly to the side. When Jin-woo slowly raised his gaze, he met a pair of black eyes staring straight back at him.
“…….”
With Kim Jin-ho chattering away tirelessly on his own between them, the two boys' gazes crossed quietly.
“Cut!”
Director Yoon's voice rang out over the riverbank. The okay sign that followed sent the three of them collapsing in unison. Even Lee Yeonjae, who had held a perfectly straight posture through take after take, sank down with the rest.
“Man, that's brutal…. Still fun, though.”
“Haha. Right…!”
At Nam Inhu's muttered complaint, Seong Ijun laughed and agreed heartily. Yeonjae, eyes closed, said nothing in reply, but the corners of his mouth lifted.
A peaceful air settled over the three of them as they sprawled out in comfortable tangles. The staff passing by stole glances their way.
Kids really do get close fast.
Only a week had passed since the first shoot, yet the three already looked remarkably close. Given the small age gaps, that was no surprise—but the fact that Yeonjae sat at the center of it was. Having seen the boy in person, quieter than they'd expected, the staff had assumed the other two would drive the conversation.
Yet whenever the three chatted happily together and Yeonjae stepped away, the remaining pair would clam up and awkwardly bury themselves in their scripts. Just this morning, the two had been talking and laughing, so someone had wandered over to see what was so funny—only to find they'd been talking about the absent Yeonjae the whole time.
I will never understand kids' brains.
The staff member who'd thought this to himself shrugged and walked off.
I pressed and kneaded at my closed eyes for a while, then decided it was about time to get up and started to rise. Suddenly, urgent voices came at me from both sides.
“Where are you going?”
“Getting up already?”
“…? Should I sit back down?”
I froze mid-rise, then lowered myself back into my seat. It wasn't as though anything urgent was waiting on me, so it hardly mattered. I was quietly watching the river drift by when I sensed something hesitant stirring beside me.
“What is it? Something you want to say?”
“Ah… it's, um, it's not anything important.”
“Go on.”
“I talked it over with Inhu earlier. Today's my last day of shooting, so it's not really a celebration or anything, but….”
I watched Seong Ijun string his words together, slow as syrup. How does someone who talks this slowly pull off being the chatty type, anyway?
“If you're up for it, we thought the three of us could have dinner together…!”
“Sure. Anything you want to eat?”
He'd hesitated so much that I'd braced for something serious, but as usual it was nothing at all. I nodded easily and joined in on the dinner menu debate.
While Seong Ijun chattered away excitedly about this and that, Nam Inhu looked like he was mulling something over for a long while. What he finally came out with was this:
“Can't we just order delivery and eat at your place?”
“My place?”
Why on earth—?
“I'm craving delivery food?”
“No, it's not that… I'm just curious what your place is like. I've never been to a celebrity's house before.”
“I'm not exactly a celebr—.”
—Right. A celebrity… that's what I am.
I smoothed my throat, feeling oddly unsatisfied. It wasn't like my place had gold and jewels lying around, or anything worth gawking at. I turned my head, wondering why we'd bother skipping all the restaurants in the world for my apartment—and then swallowed my words. Even with my mouth firmly shut, the sparkle in Seong Ijun's eyes made it plainly obvious how much he wanted to come.
“Hmm… let me at least ask Jinbae-hyung first. It's not like I live alone.”
I'd worried that Manager Ahn Jinbae might feel put out, but to my surprise, he was delighted. And so, well before the sun had even finished setting, the four of us rode together to my place.
“Wow… how do you have this many books?”
“They're all gifts.”
For my birthday, Junghyun-hyung had given me enough books to fill an entire shelf. I'd assumed that was the only thing worth looking at in my room, but apparently the two of them disagreed. Seong Ijun and Nam Inhu acted like they'd come over specifically to tour the house. Why not check the water pressure while you're at it?
Fortunately, the delivery food arrived and put an end to the grand house tour. The problem was what came next.
“Can I just crash here?”
“…? Why?”
“Because I want to.”
Nam Inhu said it without a shred of shame. The reason was so far beyond anything I'd imagined that my brain simply stopped working, searching for a response. Before I could manage one, Seong Ijun—who'd been hovering behind us—hastily cut in.
“Then me too…!”
What is wrong with you two?