Chapter 101: Rewind Two Hours - Your Heart Speaks Waiting Room
Wide waiting room lined with mirrors on every wall.
"...The questions will be based on your pre-interviews. You've seen American variety shows, right? As I mentioned beforehand, we're going full spicy mode, so keep that in mind."
Kim Bok-hyeon PD's declaration-like words swept through the room like a storm.
In the tense atmosphere, as the performers—makeup done and broadcast outfits set—awaited their variety show recording...
"SBC sure knows how to crank up the pressure, just like old times. They lay out food just to give you indigestion. Oh, what's this bread? Hey, want to try one? SBC variety recordings run long—you gotta fill up. Ah, you're good."
One particularly noisy man stood out. Comedian Jo Gwang. Munching on various breads from the snack table in the center of the room, paired with milk, he was once called a ratings guarantee, a top broadcaster.
A glance.
But the other performers, no strangers to the industry themselves, eyed him with strange looks for good reason.
Overseas gambling expedition.
Three years ago, at the peak of his fame, he'd been caught in illegal high-stakes gambling with scammers in the Philippines. He'd plummeted straight to rock bottom.
Toward the still-chattering man:
"Still, it's been a while since my comeback, so I'm tense. Broadcasting really is..."
"Jo Gwang."
A long-haired man in rimless glasses spoke up.
"Want me to tell you how not to be tense?"
"Oh?"
Broadcaster Yoo Hyeok-pil. Originally a critic, famous for his sharp, incisive takes on social issues. Jo Gwang perked up at his words.
"Whoa, I'm a huge fan. Saw you briefly at Seok Young-noona's birthday party last time? Been dying to properly say hi..."
"Show your sincerity."
"Pardon?"
"Unfeigned sincerity. If you're truly repenting to the public, that tension will fade."
"Wait, hold on."
Jo Gwang let out a hollow laugh at Yoo Hyeok-pil's sudden thrust.
"I really am sorry. That 'lie' rumor back then? I wasn't trying to lie—it was the people I was tangled with at the time..."
"The public aren't idiots."
Yoo Hyeok-pil cut off his breezy hand-waving with firm resolve, scanning the other participants seriously.
"Everyone here probably thinks the same. Atonement for past mistakes, excuses for rumors, escaping old images, or image rehab."
Sudden silence blanketed the waiting room.
Savoring the focused stares like a performer, Yoo Hyeok-pil paused before continuing slowly.
"...In the end, you're here to win the public's favor. Right?"
His confident gaze reflected in the mirrors scattered everywhere.
Not just Jo Gwang—no one in the room objected.
It rang true.
Even on a variety show emphasizing truth/lie, appearing meant proving your sincerity—or at least innocence or righteousness on key issues.
"The key is an honest attitude. People hate pretense most. Especially those like us who are TV regulars—we wield positive influence, but..."
Click.
Then, Lee Tae-gyu entered through the waiting room door.
Unlike the visibly tense others, his expression was as blankly stoic as when they'd first seen him returning from the bathroom. Yoo Hyeok-pil sighed and addressed him.
"Actor."
"Yes?"
"Mind if I ask why you're here?"
The atmosphere shifted.
Feeling the performers' stares, Lee Tae-gyu tilted his head.
"Why the sudden question...?"
"Nothing big. I can guess everyone else's reasons, but you? Skip if you don't want."
"It's not that—it's just nothing special."
"Like what."
"My agency told me to."
"...Ha."
Yoo Hyeok-pil let out an incredulous laugh.
Snickers rippled through the performers. He pointed at Tae-gyu and turned back.
"See? That's it. The public hates the 'act.'"
"What the—"
"Ah, Actor Lee Tae-gyu. Sorry. Picking up from earlier. Mind some advice, if it's not rude?"
Without giving Tae-gyu a chance, Yoo Hyeok-pil pressed on.
"You seem to go mysterious off-screen, but that could backfire here."
"Mysterious...?"
"You know the waiting room's separate from the lie detector experts, right? We call you 'Actor' politely, but those folks? No mercy. Though 'Actor' feels awkward to me too."
The performers watched with keen interest.
Actors were the nobility of broadcasting. A few who'd been treated like clowns savored his edged words.
"Anyway, don't say that on recording. 'Agency made me'? DK Entertainment, right? They're already gossip fodder. For a good image, better be honest—even if embarrassing—than caught faking..."
"Then why are you here, sir?"
"Hm?"
Lee Tae-gyu held out open palms toward Yoo Hyeok-pil.
The performers' eyes snapped back.
Yoo Hyeok-pil—the highest-educated and SNS-famous critic among them. They were curious why he'd join this risky show.
"...To boost my writing's credibility."
"Credibility?"
"Yes."
Self-aware, Yoo Hyeok-pil swept back his long hair with a smirk.
"People say my critiques are tough reads. If it's known I always pour pure heart into them, the public might step closer to understand."
It was more than that.
Arrogant, elitist, show-off—the public's jabs.
For Yoo Hyeok-pil, hypersensitive to gazes despite his own 'not-like-that' act, it was about dulling those thorns. And honestly, skyrocketing fame. But...
"...I see."
His fluent rhetoric and earnest performance nodded heads—even Tae-gyu's.
'Idiots.'
Yoo Hyeok-pil brimmed with confidence.
The critic's vantage—surveying society, looking down on the world.
Public, experts—bring it. Undefeated in 90-minute debates by sheer verbal prowess. He'd get what he wanted risk-free, as always.
Bang!
So the shock hit hard.
"Alright, recording starts!"
As proper recording began.
Hello! I'm MC Jang Dok-gi, the man who wants to hear the megastars' true hearts!
Thirty minutes into recording.
- Now, let's move to Yoo Hyeok-pil!
Truth is, sometimes your critiques feel too obscure and tough.
- Yeah, I've heard that.
- I know the internet's full of jokes like 'written on drugs?'
- Haha, funny stuff.
- So.
The MC switched tones abruptly.
- Did you do drugs? Or not?
- ..........Pardon?
- Our first official question.
- Of course not, come on.
Yoo Hyeok-pil shrugged with an exasperated look.
- Right.
The MC nodded toward him.
Flicker.
Good so far.
But as Yoo Hyeok-pil scowled at the MC, triumphant...
- But that's offensive.
- Sorry. First question—to demo the show's edge. Forgive the provocation.
- Come on.
- Anyway, no drugs.
- This is ridiculous...
- Then, any cheating?
- What?
- I hear you're seeing a fellow entertainer. Anyone else on the side? Second question.
- No way! What nonsense.
Red light on his custom chair's panel.
Beeeep!
- Yoo Hyeok-pil, that's a lie.
***
Beside the large studio, opposite the main PD and crew with walkie-talkies, staff watching the recording buzzed.
"Whoa, for real?"
"Dunno. Needs hypnosis for third confirmation."
"Broadcasting this?"
"It's recording."
"They'll cut the heavy stuff for air."
"Doubt it? Kim PD's going all-in."
"Didn't you see the U.S. version? Truth-hunt shows drop bombs like this."
"This is Korea."
This was public execution.
"Surprising though. Didn't he trash a cheating actress on SNS last month?"
"Yeah."
SNS posts topping 1,000. He'd positioned himself as the stern truth-teller for society's good.
"...Acted like he had no interest in women."
"Holier-than-thou."
"'Different from others,' my ass. Cheating? Disappointing."
"Wait. Not confirmed yet."
"Still."
Staff shook heads in disbelief.
In image-sensitive showbiz, even suspicion wrecked you. This was major damage.
- What the hell.
Lies confirmed.
- What? Device glitch? Tension skews graphs—not conclusive!
- Cheating confirmed? Admit here, we stop questions...
- I didn't cheat!
- Fine.
MC extended cue-sheet hand toward the opposite room.
- Second verification in the next room—Yoo Hyeok-pil's claim fact-checked!
Indeed.
Your Heart Speaks triple-verified 'lies' on big-bet questions.
1st: Polygraph alarm/lights.
2nd: Profiler tea-time; psych experts analyze exterior/behavior via monitors.
3rd: Light hypnosis + data synthesis for final expert opinion.
All captured on studio monitors—every expression, twitch.
So.
- A-actually... I wasn't trying to see them all... *sob* Th-that's...
- Five at once? Shocking.
- P-polyamory exists. Multiple loves—I loved them all...
- Okay, stop!
In short...
"...Fucked."
...Tell the truth or get shredded.
***
Studio center. Performers watched third verification on massive monitor.
"...Whoa."
"Five affairs?"
"Cheating's bad enough—five simultaneously?"
"Thought he ignored women."
"How...?"
Blank stares all around.
Obviously.
First batter Yoo Hyeok-pil's meltdown streamed live.
Yet no "serves you right" or "smug bastard cracked."
"........."
"........."
"........."
"........."
Simple reason.
Every reaction—from celebs monitoring here—was being filmed too.
"...This won't air raw, right?"
"Duh, five's too much."
"Would've been milder if he'd admitted first."
"Yeah. Looks like early confession caps at 'cheater'."
"Hold on, gotta call my agency."
"Why? Got dirt?"
"As long as no crimes, fine right?"
"Boycott?"
"Boycott what? Think we're all liars?"
"True, I'm clean."
Various reactions to comments.
Some boycott calls, others plotting image boosts—but camera awareness froze them.
Gulp!
Unnatural moves all around.
Yes.
Kim Bok-hyeon PD's genius: Raw peer reactions for viewers; hellish tension for performers.
The board held because...
Once, America had The Moment of Truth. Polygraph show hurling life-ruining questions on air—affairs, scandals, crimes. FOX got signed waivers accepting results. No escapes amid constraints. General public then; Korean celeb version now. Similar, not identical.
"...Anyway, they'll edit for broadcast."
"Yeah."
"His agency's here?"
"Nope."
"Rough."
These performers weighed bigger gains than average celebs.
Recalling their signed waivers amid maneuvers...
Gasp!
Comedian Jo Gwang nearly dry-heaved from pressure.
Click!
Door opened. Kim Bok-hyeon PD entered, devilish grin, past disheveled Yoo Hyeok-pil sprawled behind.
"Lee Tae-gyu? You're up."
Performers' "he's doomed too" looks bore into him as he strode unfazed to MC Jang Dok-gi.
Cue-sheet MC wasted no time.
- Whoa, Lee Tae-gyu again.
Instant pressure question.
- Heard you hit 10 million in supporting fast. Bluntly: what's your insane acting secret?
- Truth is.
But.
Lee Tae-gyu's answer left performers, staff, insiders slack-jawed.
- I don't act.
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