Seo Eun-seong. He Pulls It Off.
“Eun-seong, you on Instagram?”
“Ah, yeah. I am.”
“Let’s follow each other.”
“Sure, why not, sunbae?”
“Come on~ Just call me Na-yeon noona.”
“Haha… Okay, Na-yeon noona.”
“Oh my~ That sounds so nice~”
After wrapping up the first shoot, Kim Na-yeon grabbed Seo Eun-seong just as he was about to head home. It was a ploy to exchange SNS contacts and get closer to him by any means necessary.
“Next shoot, you’ll have more screen time, right? See you then, Eun-seong?”
“Yes. I’ll head out first, Na-yeon noona.”
“Noona~ Sounds so good~”
As Seo Eun-seong turned away from the gracefully waving Kim Na-yeon, a voice called out urgently from the set.
“Eun-seong! Eun-seong! You still here?!”
Director Choi Do-hyun was beckoning him frantically.
“Yes! I’m still here, Director!”
Seo Eun-seong hurried back to the set.
Hm? Who’s that?
A stranger stood beside the director. He wore horn-rimmed glasses, had an intellectual air, and sharp eyes that seemed a bit prickly.
“Let me introduce you. This is Kim Seong-hyun, the screenwriter for this movie. He happened to drop by the set today. Actually, perfect timing, Eun-seong.”
“Ah…! Really?”
Seo Eun-seong bowed in surprise.
Kim Seong-hyun, the screenwriter. He was one of Chungmuro’s top-tier “1st tier” writers, renowned for his exceptional scripts. Every one of his works had swept both box office success and critical acclaim. Seo Eun-seong recognized his face from his occasional appearances as a panelist on TV shows.
“Hello! I’m Seo Eun-seong. It’s an honor, Writer-nim.”
“Nice to meet you. Kim Seong-hyun.”
The writer pushed up his glasses and stared piercingly at Seo Eun-seong, like an X-ray scanning his entire body.
“Do-hyun hyung kept raving about the gem he’d found, so I had to see for myself. And yeah, it lives up to the hype.”
“Haha… The director’s too kind…”
“Hm. But he’s not wrong.”
The writer nodded in admiration.
“Your visuals are outstanding. A rare mask these days. Strong lines with a subtle boyish charm. Handsome. Really handsome.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off Seo Eun-seong. Most young male actors nowadays were either pretty-boy types like parasites or lanky beanpoles. Bluntly put, most were character actors far from conventional “handsomeness.” But this rookie was on another level. He evoked the early 20s versions of legends like Jeon Woo-sung, Yoo Jung-jae, or Kim Byung-hun—those thick-blooded, ruggedly handsome icons who still dominated Chungmuro.
“Perfect for a noir with that lean, intense vibe too, right, Do-hyun hyung?”
As mentioned before, he blended wolfish edge with puppy-like warmth. That duality made him ideal as an actor.
“Right? Told you. Professor Kang recommended him. Seong-hyun.”
“Professor Kang? If he vouches for it, it’s legit.”
“Heh.”
The director and writer were geeking out over Seo Eun-seong like kids with a new toy.
“Haha… You’re all too generous…”
Seo Eun-seong didn’t know where to put himself amid the praise from a heavyweight writer. He’d just lost some weight and worked out—did he really deserve this?
“Seong-hyun, seeing is believing. Check this out.”
The director led the writer to the monitor. The freshly shot “Macau back alley” scene played.
And there he was on screen: Seo Eun-seong emerging in a black suit, trudging through a rain-slicked alley lit by red neon.
No dialogue. No special expressions. Just walking.
But…
“……”
Kim Seong-hyun’s face gradually hardened as he watched.
It wasn’t just “handsome.” An overwhelming presence dominated the frame. With every step, the air grew heavy, the extras and background bending to serve him.
His sheer existence directs the mise-en-scène.
The writer shivered. Good acting came from effort. But a presence that became the story? That was innate.
Those eyes, that gait—they carried an inexplicable solitude and backstory.
“So? Told you. He’s the real deal, right?”
The director asked smugly, shoulders puffed like a proud parent.
“Hyung.”
The writer spoke gravely.
“Rewrite this scene.”
“Huh…?”
“Too wasteful to just have him walk. With visuals and aura like that, using him as cannon fodder is negligence.”
His eyes gleamed with creative fire.
“Let’s overhaul the whole thing. For him.”
“Haha! Knew you’d say that! Same thought here. Okay! Deal!”
The director laughed heartily and slapped my shoulder.
“Uh…?”
I could only blink at the two giants’ conversation.
Rewrite the scene? For me?
“Staff! Attention! Shoot’s on hold! Reworking scenes with the writer—standby, all stop!”
“…?!”
Murmurs rippled through the set.
A rookie actor—on day one—getting a blockbuster director and top-tier writer to revise the script?
“What the hell is Eun-seong?”
“Whoa? This is next-level favoritism.”
The staff gawked at Seo Eun-seong with eyes full of envy and awe.
While the director and writer huddled in their meeting, I returned to the makeshift waiting room. Tension drained, my legs buckled.
“Whew…”
I flopped onto the sofa. No time to rest, though.
“Eun-seong! Congrats!”
“Insane…! Kim Seong-hyun rewriting for you? That’s lead-level treatment!”
“Brought more snacks. You must be crashing, right?”
Suddenly, the room filled with female staff. Makeup, wardrobe, even the assistant director’s junior and props team—all swarmed in.
They circled me like fans meeting their idol.
“Thank you. You’re all spoiling me—I don’t know what to say.”
“Nah! You earned it, Eun-seong.”
“Totally! That shoot earlier? Thought I’d stop breathing.”
The women showered me with praise until their mouths went dry. I flashed my signature “mom smile” and accepted the chocolates they offered.
“It’s all thanks to you guys. Makeup made my skin flawless… Wardrobe nailed the suit fit… AD team kept me relaxed… What’d I do?”
I deflected the credit. No empty words—their work made the on-screen me possible.
“Oh… How do you say such pretty things…?”
“For real… I’m about to stan you hard…”
My humble, caring vibe had them on the verge of bliss overload.
“What about our props team?!”
A complaint erupted. But who am I? The guy who’d honed empathy massaging top-idol Ha-rin and her sasaeng fans.
“Props team? Obviously grateful. Temporary waiting room, but this sofa’s basically an Ace Bed. So comfy~ Comfy~”
“Tch! That’s forced!”
“You hate it?”
Dimples digging into my cheeks, harmless puppy smile.
“Kyaa! Stop!”
The room erupted in laughter at my cheekiness. About two hours passed like that.
“Eun-seong!”
The door slid open. The assistant director entered.
“Sorry to keep you waiti—”
He froze mid-sentence at the scene.
Noir set like a grim battlefield, but this waiting room? A whole other world.
I sat sofa-center, surrounded by female staff—like a king and his harem.
“Haha? Really? Didn’t know.”
My bright smile sent them giggling into heaps.
“……”
The AD felt a pang of emptiness. He’d been running ragged outside, parched, while this rookie shot a romance.
Deprived.
“Ahem.”
He cleared his throat pointedly. The women parted like the Red Sea.
“Ah? AD-nim?”
I stood, greeting warmly.
“Y-yeah… Director and writer want you. Revised script’s ready.”
“Ah! Yes! Coming right now.”
I straightened my clothes and headed out. The female staff trailed like a cheering squad.
“Eun-seong! Fighting!”
“Nail it!”
Like seeing off a lord to battle. The AD shook his head at the entourage behind me.
Director’s office, off one side of the set.
“I’m here!”
I entered to find Director Choi Do-hyun and Kim Seong-hyun waiting, faces serious yet thrilled. A steaming fresh-printed script lay on the table.
“You’re here. Sit.”
The director gestured. I sat, tense.
“Seong-hyun rewrote big-time for you.”
“Seo Eun-seong, here’s Scene 93. Take a look.”
The writer handed it over.
“Yes, Writer-nim. Whew.”
I took it with trembling hands.
Hm?
But the revised script was different.
[Scene #93. Macau Club Interior & Back Alley]
[Stage Direction:] Flashy lights strobe in the club. Black Society thugs threaten the heroine Yoo Ji-ye (Kim Na-yeon). Then, from the shadows, Bodyguard 1 (Seo Eun-seong) appears. He draws his pistol, subduing the thugs with precise, heavy action. Escapes with the heroine into the back alley. Races through, shaking pursuing enemies.
“Is… this my screen time?”
I couldn’t believe my eyes. From a simple walk to action and chase. No lines, but the impact was massively upgraded.
“Like it?”
The writer asked confidently.
“Like it? I’m wondering if a rookie like me deserves this chance…”
My throat tightened with emotion. A top writer rewriting for a nameless newbie. As a top idol’s brother, I knew better than anyone—this beat winning the lottery.
“Thank you. Truly, thank you, Writer-nim, Director-nim.”
I stood and bowed 90 degrees. Pure sincerity.
“Haha, head up. You inspired it.”
The writer waved it off with a grin. The director beamed.
“Save the tears. Real work starts now.”
The director’s face turned serious.
“Shoot’s in three days. Gotta reset the set.”
“Got it.”
“And… this action scene.”
He locked eyes with me.
“You do it yourself.”
“Me? Personally?”
I was stunned. Dangerous action was usually stunts for non-leads. And I’d never trained professionally.
“No stunt double?”
“Yeah. Doubles mean cuts. Kills your long-take magic. I want that aura unbroken.”
Director’s greed. But a huge burden for a rookie—hell, I barely qualified as one.
“Think you can?”
“……”
I hesitated. Could I? Mess up and get hurt? Ruin the film?
Then he dropped it casually.
“Backpacked 30kg through Nepal, right? Survived hell. This too much?”
“Ah…”
“That grit’s enough. Action director’ll cram three days of basics. Your physique? You’ll pick it up fast.”
He trusted my “survival instinct.” Saw Nepal hadn’t just slimmed me—it forged me. True master.
Yeah. I survived Nepal’s brink. Nothing I can’t do.
I clenched my fist. Chance dropped in my lap. But seizing it? On me. Backing out meant lifelong regret.
Above all, I wanted to be an oppa Ha-rin could be proud of.
“I’ll do it.”
My eyes changed. No more dazed rookie. A predator eyeing prey—or the role.
“No stunt. I’ll handle it all.”
“That’s it!”
The director slammed the desk, thrilled.
“Gutsy too, huh, Seo Eun-seong?”
The writer smirked, intrigued.
“Can’t wait to see how you devour this script in three days.”
The director stoked my fire to the end.
I’ll pull it off.
No—I must. I will.