The Fleeting Dokkaebi Fire
What Lee Tae-gyu witnessed at that moment was this kind of dokkaebi fire.
Seol A-yoon, the top actress of her generation. That hypersensitive sensibility that could make even a superstar look like a total punk—it could almost be called a sea churning with waves of intense emotions.
When Seol A-yoon dove into her acting, she became a surfer riding the wild ocean battered by countless waves. To avoid being swallowed by the crashing swells of pressure, anxiety, fear, and more—to stay focused and ride straight to her destination—she'd occasionally catch her foot just right.
She'd enter a realm beyond immersion, a place even top-tier F-1 racers rarely touched for a mere 0.01 seconds, something you could dare compare to the serene samadhi of Buddhism. It was an experience even she could only barely grasp when a bunch of coincidences aligned perfectly.
So, for Tae-gyu, it could be said he was pretty damn lucky.
············
A realm that even first-rate actors might feel once or twice a year, if at all. He'd caught a glimpse of the dokkaebi fire right on the verge of reaching it.
Thump.
In that instant, Tae-gyu harbored hope. How beautiful. That dokkaebi fire he'd never seen in his life before—the mere knowledge that something like it existed made life worth betting on.
But at the same time, Tae-gyu could be called unlucky.
Fsssh...
The dazzling dokkaebi fire scattered the moment he laid eyes on it.
The reason was obvious.
"Cut, cut! Ugh, what the hell's with this wind?!"
The thick gust that had obscured the space between them cleared, and the faintly visible expression on the other actor's face sharpened into clarity.
"Hold on, cutting for a sec! Hey, did you check the set cover over there?"
Seol A-yoon stared at him in utter bewilderment. From that face, tangled with absurdity and irritation, he heard a stifled chuckle leak out.
"···············Pfft."
Tae-gyu instantly knew why the dokkaebi fire from moments ago had vanished.
Her expression.
That's right. To see the dokkaebi fire, he'd had to make that ridiculous face—the bizarre expression that must've been visible even through the swirling snow. It had shattered her focus.
Damn. The very tool that let him see what he wanted had ruined it instead. What irony.
What the hell was that just now...?
As Tae-gyu felt a deep pang of regret and curiosity stirring—
"Fixing costumes now!"
The break time followed. Staff swarmed in to check the outfits and makeup disrupted by the sudden snow gust.
"Check the mic too! Sound cut out for a sec there, right?"
They inspected the scattered equipment. With people crowding around both actors—
Seol A-yoon still felt off. She'd had the feeling just now. Amid the churning emotions—the building irritation, the thrill and pressure of acting with that guy, the tension—they'd struck that delicate balance. She'd been on the verge of "that experience" after so long—
"Pffft."
·········Pissing me off. What was that?
Recalling it again, a silly noise slipped through her gritted teeth—the face that never should've appeared in a serious scene like that. It broke her concentration.
That idiot face with the twitching cheeks under arched brows—
"Uh, something wrong?"
"N-no."
"Pardon?"
"N-nothing."
Seol A-yoon, barely holding back tears of laughter, glanced at the staff casually adjusting her red ceremonial robe and wig, head tilted innocently.
Not just them. The staff fixing the blown-away camera tarp, the assistant director barking orders on the radio, even Gu Jeong-hwan prepping the retake. No one else saw?
Did the wind obscure it from the camera? Or did they just think it was her squinting into the snow?
Doesn't matter.
As she tilted her head and looked over at Lee Tae-gyu in his blue dragon robe, staff fussing over his appearance—the stark contrast between his stone-cold blank face now and that idiot expression earlier forced her to bite down hard to stifle the laugh bubbling up.
Seol A-yoon bowed her head, pondering what "that" was.
What the heck was it? A tic? Acting habit?
As punk-like worry started creeping in—
Or... was he trying to break my flow on purpose—?
"Excuse me."
"Gasp!"
She looked up, and there was Tae-gyu, blank-faced, right in her space. The image of that expression flashed over him like a shadow; she barely held it together.
The staff had already finished primping him and scattered to avoid interrupting their scene-matching talk.
"Sorry, sunbaenim."
He bowed his head in apology.
"·········Pardon?"
"I broke your focus, didn't I?"
"Ah."
He knew. Good. Didn't seem intentional.
"But... mind if I ask one thing?"
"Shoot."
"What were you thinking?"
"Huh?"
"When you saw my face earlier—"
"Ah."
Seol A-yoon's eyes widened slightly. What? He came over because he's worried about that face he made?
"I don't even remember the face or whatever."
She got it. Actors always had their quirky routines to shake off jinxes.
Makes sense. Some think getting wind in your face on camera means bad luck.
A rookie would totally worry about how others saw his personal rituals.
"Nothing really stood out—"
"Pfft, I was swamped prepping my lines, dying here. No room for other thoughts."
"Really—"
"Yeah, really."
Understanding dawned; she patted his shoulder and nodded. Tap tap.
Her earlier punk thoughts melted away like snow.
Acting tough on the outside, seeming oblivious to the world, but surprisingly timid inside—just like her.
"So don't sweat it. Let's nail this scene properly, yeah?"
She nodded at Tae-gyu. Yeah. That weird dissonance with him might not be bad. Maybe the kinship of meeting your own kind. She flashed a bright smile.
"Alright, back in! Let's go!"
Filming resumed for real this time.
"Standby!"
The final shoot against Tae-gyu, her all-out rival!
"Action!"
···········Pfft.
"No need for reports on this one."
Do Yoon-seop, CEO of DK Entertainment, shoved his phone at Jang Team Leader.
Seol A-yoon and Lee Tae-gyu in historical drama garb, with Cheon Yoo-seong arm-in-arm between them. The hashtags made it clear: Tae-gyu's Hoshi-jeol shoot had just wrapped.
"You following Cheon Yoo-seong, sir?"
"Why?"
"Personal account might get a bit chaotic."
"Worry later. Look."
A fresh photo had gone up on Cheon Yoo-seong's SNS.
A solo shot of Lee Tae-gyu. Cheon Yoo-seong posting another actor's pic—and comments were already pouring in under 30 minutes.
Naturally, tons mentioned the account owner himself. Tae-gyu's name hadn't fully stuck yet, but...
"·········He's 'our bro' now."
"Yep."
Thanks to Cheon Yoo-seong, that face was getting solid exposure. Monster City aired in early March. Two months prior, a rookie unseen on TV was building buzz.
Attention was gunpowder. Better to stockpile and detonate for max impact—that was industry common sense.
"Bumped Tae-gyu's care level?"
"Yes."
"Good."
DK was set to ignite the growing interest in Tae-gyu. He'd more than proven his worth.
"Drop one spark now, and it'll hop around, building hype till renewal."
"Monster City, Hoshi-jeol. In between."
"Private auditions for rushed casts, camera tests. Tae-gyu's in one tomorrow."
"Mixed in shorts too?"
"Yes."
"Good work."
"Thank you."
Do nodded. Lee Tae-gyu. Contract ended in five months, but DK would squeeze max value and prime him for renewal—showcasing their prowess.
"Time to start popping the stockpiled attention."
He pictured the bomb to kick off five months of chain-reaction hype.
Just as Do moved to act—
Ding!
New post.
Cheon Yoo-seong's SNS, effortlessly boosting agency actors' buzz just by breathing.
Late night. Spacious raw fish joint in Mapo-gu. The Hoshi-jeol wrap party had been going hours.
"Man... that final scene... was the best!"
Gu Jeong-hwan, already sloshed, repeating himself endlessly.
"Whoa... eyes, lines, gaze... straight-up Yi Bang-gwa himself!"
He wasn't one for frequent wrap drinks during shoots.
But now? Felt like a full-on premiere party already.
"You're the man... Yi Bang-gwa now...!"
Because of Lee Tae-gyu.
In the end, he'd gone toe-to-toe with superstar Seol A-yoon. Her all-in performance had fired everyone up.
"How'd you match Seol A-yoon... damn!"
"Right, director?!"
"Even she NG'd once on first take... you're a real monster!"
"Our bro! You can count on him!"
Gu Jeong-hwan and Cheon Yoo-seong, arms slung over Tae-gyu's shoulders left and right, drunkenly bantering.
"Acting is believing! With our bro, it's total trust! He sets the scene, lines, everything on a platter—I just eat!"
"Hwang Jeong-min?"
"Hwang Jeong-min!"
As Tae-gyu tried to sip quietly, they high-fived noisily on both sides. His blank face shaking left-right like modern art.
A veteran beside Seol A-yoon jabbed a trembling finger at Tae-gyu.
"That punk's gonna eat the industry alive."
"Kid's a total fiend!"
Another vet nodded in awe.
"Auditions tomorrow too!"
"Can't live without acting."
"Tough bastard."
Rabid acting rookie, Lee Tae-gyu. Layers of hype piled on him.
"Eye candy today. Seol A-yoon acting the burdensome wall to overcome, Tae-gyu the wall she overcomes..."
Seol A-yoon tilted her head.
Earlier, right after proper filming started, she'd cracked a laugh and NG'd once.
Normally, she'd chew on that ambiguous "mistake" over several soju bottles.
But now? Totally different thoughts.
······Weird.
She felt dissonance.
Definitely. It wasn't some timid-actor kinship from that Lee Tae-gyu guy.
Seol A-yoon: secretly timid but dead serious about acting and film. Top actress.
This wasn't jealousy.
Nor his fault.
More like an uneasy premonition infecting the whole crew from Gu Jeong-hwan, spreading to the actors.
"That scene dominating with sheer presence? Insane."
"Palace speech was gold."
"Injured agony acting gave me chills."
Table chatter everywhere.
"Soldiers speech scene was peak, right? Pure Yi Bang-gwa vibes."
"Totally."
"Nah, the hidden pain of Yi Bang-gwa—"
All praising Tae-gyu's Yi Bang-gwa turns from the Hoshi-jeol set. Seol A-yoon alone shook her head.
She'd thought the same at first. Just great acting.
All scenes perfectly captured Yi Bang-gwa's context.
At some point. Starting with the director, everyone casually falling for it. As she realized—
"Alright! Before departing star Lee Tae-gyu's toast! First, the superstar who unearthed this gem, Seol A-yoon's toast!"
Clap clap clap—
Amid cheers expecting her words, Seol A-yoon saw her chance to share the doubt naturally.
"Seol—A—Yoon!"
"Seol—A—Yoon!"
"Seol—A—Yoon!"
She stood awkwardly to roaring cheers, taking the soju bottle with spoon from the AD.
Perfect chance... make it light, jokey, soft...
She smiled at the dozens of flushed, drunken faces.
"Before the toast, mind a quick shoot感想?"
"Of course!"
Instant cheers. Superstar Seol A-yoon's take? Ear candy.
Glasses raised, beaming red faces locked on her.
"Today's shoot was a blast. Tae-gyu especially—no need to say. First time seeing our director direct that hard, swear."
Pre-toast. Half-joking感想.
"Had me thinking, 'Am I shooting Jeong Jong saga?' Not really, obviously."
"!"
"!"
"!"
Silence blanketed the rowdy party.
"··················No, right?"