Our Side

And so, at last, in episode seven — the hospital scene — I met the actress playing my mother: Kang Minha.

Yoo Hahyun and Moon Dohoon were a divorced couple, and the moment they ran into each other, played by Kang Minha and Seo Joongsung respectively, they could hardly keep from tearing each other's throats out. Then Yoo Hahyun got into a minor traffic accident, and the instant Moon Dohoon heard the news, he sprinted straight over. He carried the injured Hahyun on his back to the hospital, and the two of them came out after the treatment — only to run, by pure chance, into Moon Gyeowool at a university hospital, just as he was leaving with a surgery date of his own.

And the three of them head off toward the bakery together.

The instant the hospital scene wrapped, Kang Minha dropped to the floor, curled up against the corridor wall, and started to sob. She seemed stifled by something, because she pounded her own chest with her fist. Seo Joongsung, who had been frozen in place, gave my shoulder a firm nudge — go on over, apparently.

"I can't comfort her."

"Just being beside her is comfort."

I had no idea what that meant, but I went over anyway and crouched down next to Kang Minha. Whereupon Seo Joongsung came over and sat down too, and I ended up wedged in the middle.

"It's cramped."

"Gyeowooooooool......"

Kang Minha threw her arms around me. Then Seo Joongsung hugged me too. What was with these people.

"Ah, what are you two doing."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Aigoo, our son."

"Son."

"Mommy's so saaad."

"Daddy's sad too."

What were these people, seriously?

With the two of them hanging off me from both sides, Seo Joongsung eventually started sniffling as well. Then everyone from the agency came running, and even the production staff, all pointing their cameras and shooting away.

"They really do look like an actual family. So beautiful, what do we do."

"Now that you mention it, Heeyoon does look a bit like Minha, doesn't he?"

"No, we don't. You're the pretty one, senior."

At my words, Kang Minha froze for a beat, lifted her head, and looked at me. And then she burst into fresh tears.

"No, you're pretty tooooo......"

"......Ha. This is insane."

Unable to pry off a crying woman or a hulking man, I had no choice but to sit there and wait for them to let go of their own accord.

And the two of them, as it turned out, did not let go easily.

"Monitoring the response again?"

Gam Seongbeom shot a glance at Do Jaeyeon, who had spent the entire day searching every corner of the weekend-drama landscape. Do Jaeyeon said, eyes never leaving the screen:

"What even is Lee Heeyoon. Was he born under some kind of lucky star? This isn't something a handsome face alone can pull off, you know?"

"Absolutely not. Sure, the face did part of the work."

"Of course it did. But even accounting for that, the audience is far too attached to Moon Gyeowool."

Something like a current of pure attention was radiating off the screen, drawing everything toward it.

Do Jaeyeon skimmed through the behind-the-scenes reactions as well. The clip of Lee Heeyoon soothing the child actor — telling him to get angry first, coaxing the tears out of him — had been re-edited into short-form videos and was racking up enormous view counts.

Bit by bit, even Lee Heeyoon's private history was leaking out through the comment threads. Do Jaeyeon monitored it all relentlessly, checking again and again to make sure no false information slipped into the mix. And at some point, she turned to Gam Seongbeom, who had long since stopped pretending not to watch the screen beside her, and asked:

"Heeyoon — is it really okay for his family situation to come out in an article?"

"Yeah. It's what he wants, isn't it?"

"This... the response is going to be far bigger than Heeyoon expects."

Do Jaeyeon murmured it, worry threaded through her voice.

He had made it sound like he'd be able ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to visit the school often, but he turned out to be far busier than that. His birthday — which was also Christmas — was spent being congratulated on a film set.

It was the first time in my life I'd received that much celebration. And I got quite a few gifts, too.

The surprise came from Son Jion, my labelmate at the agency: an 8mm camcorder. Stuck to it was a Post-it bearing three words — "Our side."

I gathered she'd remembered me once saying that a camera was something that took your side, and chosen the gift accordingly. I picked up the basics of the controls in short order and shot a little footage with it, and that sensibility of hers — in the best possible way — was unmistakably, perfectly Son Jion.

It was only three days before the New Year that I finally managed to claw my way off the set.

The drama had aired through episode eight, and we had finished filming through episode fifteen.

I headed straight for the movie theater with Woo Woongbae.

We started in the morning and watched three films back to back, and by the end I was slowly getting hungry. Like a man newly released from prison, I wanted to eat everything in the world.

"Anything but gimbap. Anything but gimbap and I'll eat it all."

"And yet the moment actual food's in front of you, you don't eat."

"This time I will eat. I've eaten nothing but gimbap for almost two months."

We went to the sujeongbi house — a place that served the hand-torn dough soup — that Woo Woongbae loved, and ordered the soup along with a potato pancake. The warm broth, after so long without one, was wonderful. Whether it had anything to do with it or not, the fact that it was a snowing day seemed to make everything taste even better. Although honestly, anything that wasn't gimbap would have tasted good.

Then, as we ate, I felt gazes settling on me, and when I lifted my head, the other diners startled visibly and went back to their meals.

Even right after Garden of Manyusa, people had occasionally recognized me — but this was a different feeling entirely. It was unmistakably different. It was as if, all at once, I was being recognized evenly across every age group.

We had just finished eating and were getting up to leave when the owner came out to us.

"Another ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠customer already paid for your meal."

"For our food?"

"Yes. Ah, and I'm sorry to ask, but — could I possibly get an autograph?"

I was the type to hand out autographs freely anyway, so I asked for a sheet of paper on the spot. I had just lifted the pen when the other diners, filing out of the restaurant, offered me their greetings on the way.

"Gyeowool, fighting!"

"Fighting!"

"Ah — yes. Fighting."

I did it too.

And as I was signing, a warm hand rubbed briskly up and down my back.

"Aigoo. You've worked so hard."

I turned around to find an elderly woman patting my back. And then she pressed a bag into my hand. I glanced inside — a pack of strawberries.

"Oh, you really didn't have to."

Before I could get another word out, she was flapping her hands at me and already far away, so I gave a quick bow, accepted the strawberries, and tucked them under my arm.

Woo Woongbae said:

"Hey. You're a star now."

"I'm a star, huh."

It was strange.

Something like becoming a neighborhood star, a little bit. It wasn't bad.