The Calm Before the Storm (2)

"Mmngh..."

Han Ahyoung blinked her eyes open and sat up. She swept her bangs back and yawned. It was nothing more than a yawn, yet somehow it looked as glamorous as a scene straight out of a drama.

I handed her a fist-sized hand mirror. While she checked her appearance, I quickly tore open a vitamin and slipped it into her mouth. Next came the script—I'd long since lost count of how many times I'd gone through it. I organized the pages, covered in countless highlighter marks and underlines, back into their file.

Our eyes met. I stuck a straw into the water bottle I'd prepared ahead of time and offered it to her. After she took a sip and handed it back, I gave her a chocolate dusted with Red Salt. She tore open the wrapper and popped it straight into her mouth.

Chewing the chocolate, Han Ahyoung asked,

"You're really not going to be Unnie's puppy?"

"...Yes. I'm sorry... I'm... Master Seoh-ah's puppy."

Filming for Ghost Story Company had already been underway for over a week. Chun Yeonho had been busy with company work. Of course, nothing could possibly be more important than managing Han Ahyoung—but since I happened to be around, I had to show my face on set every day to offer coffee. And so, almost as a side effect, I'd ended up moving along Han Ahyoung's schedule.

A week ago, Han Ahyoung had told me to become her puppy. I... had managed, with difficulty, to refuse. As a masochist, I couldn't go against her. But what decided it was the thought of my Master. Because I was loyal to my Master.

Han Ahyoung roughly swept her bangs back.

"Haa. This is humiliating. Unnie never says things like this."

"..."

"If you change your mind, you can call me Master anytime. I'll wait."

"...Yes."

Han Ahyoung stared at me intently.

Thump-thump♥

I couldn't hold her gaze for long and immediately looked away. I was... Master's masochistic puppy. Master's slave. And yet, lately, the more I followed Han Ahyoung's orders, the more my head seemed to grow hazy. Probably because all I could do was submit... Whether it was Master, Han Ahyoung, or my little sister—I could never resist their words. There was only a matter of priority.

We got out of the car and headed toward Studio Initial's production company, toward the set. Han Ahyoung walked ahead of me, her hips swaying with every step. Last night, and again this morning, I'd fucked her in the car while groping that ass.

Ah...

I quickly averted my eyes and tried to clear my head. The paved road and ginkgo trees around us came into view. Pretty flowers clustered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠together in a secluded spot, looking as though they would smell wonderful. And indeed, a pleasant scent reached my nose. It was the fragrance coming from Han Ahyoung's body—subtle and addictive. The scent of 27th-century tobacco mixed with a woman's unique body heat.

After having sex with Han Ahyoung, I always buried my face in her cleavage and breathed her in. Just like I did when I nestled against Master. Ever since I'd smelled that scent... sometimes, when I was buried in Master's chest, a faint sense of disappointment would creep in. That Han Ahyoung's body scent had been... better.

Ah... Dirty thoughts again. I couldn't be thinking like this even at work.

To think of something else—there was plenty of good news. Now... I no longer had to worry about cleaning up. Just a few days ago, a cleaning item had appeared.

I'd thought the waterproof sheets would make cleanup easy. But wiping every corner clean of stains—leaving only the smell—had been a real pain. The first time I had sex with Han Ahyoung, cleanup alone took four hours. But now I could clean up with ease. I could fuck Han Ahyoung as much as I wanted. Today, too, after filming, I could get defeated again. Completely submitting, completely controlled...

Ah. Again.

As I swallowed hard, I ran into people—actors, managers, staff. Fortunately, exchanging greetings with them cleared my stray thoughts. I first approached Director Geon, greeted him, and immediately handed over the coffee.

"Oh, our little lucky charm is here. My, you look so bright and healthy."

Somewhere along the way, I'd become the lucky charm. The director always greeted me with a full-gummed smile. These days I didn't just give coffee to Director Geon, so I had to bustle around from the start. After arriving on set, I spent thirty minutes exchanging greetings and handing out coffee. And sometimes I even passed out Memory Gum or vitamins.

At first it was hard. After a few days, the pride turned into annoyance. Now I'd gotten pretty used to it. Seeing the looks people gave me grow warmer day by day, I could tell I was doing well. If Chun Yeonho, who I could call my mentor, saw this, he'd be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠proud.

Wandering around the set, I realized only a few minutes remained until Han Ahyoung's shoot began. When an actor is filming, a manager doesn't get to rest. You have to monitor how they look on screen. If their blocking or emotional line is off, you have to point it out and correct it. And they say it's good to get in the habit of always recording—you never know what might happen, so you need evidence.

In Han Ahyoung's case, she was so perfect that there was honestly little for me to do. Just managing her condition and running small errands by her side was enough. Once on set, the staff handled her errands for her, so I was even freer.

Catching my breath, I glanced at Director Geon. Chew, chew. He was chewing the Memory Gum I'd given him. Director Geon liked the gum just as much as the coffee. He'd been chewing gum even the first time we met. Just from the speed of his chewing, you could tell his mood. Maybe even beyond mood—his true feelings.

Director Geon looked around the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠set, working his jaw.

Chew.

That one's got an arrogant face.

Chew, chew.

That one looks like he's going bald.

Chew, chew, chew.

That one... just rubs me the wrong way. Can't even offer coffee.

Half-joking, half-serious. When I'd asked him before, that was the kind of answer he'd given. Director Geon disliked most actors and managers. The only ones he looked favorably on were expensive, highly skilled actors like Han Ahyoung. Then his eyes met mine and he beamed. I was... included among them. I felt like I should be used to it by now, but it still felt strange.

"Fill this in over here!"

"Where's the makeup team?"

Four assistant directors coordinated the set with perfect efficiency. Lights and cameras. Mics and reflectors. Checking the actors' condition and each department's status. They shaped the set and the shoot according to what Director Geon wanted. Nearby, the script supervisor meticulously recorded every step of the process.

"Shall we go right in? You're looking gorgeous again today, Ahyoung-ssi."

An assistant director made small talk with the actors to ease the tension. After a few exchanges, he read the focused, immersed look in their eyes and discreetly stepped back.

"We're rolling now!"

"All standby!"

"Ready."

"Sound speed."

"Scene 22, take 3-1!"

"Camera roll!"

"Mark."

Like a chorus, the ready signals came one after another. Then the camera's record button was pressed. On the monitor, Han Ahyoung's face filled the frame in close-up.

—Why should I help you? Just throw away the useless ones.

The moment Han Ahyoung started acting... the presence of every other actor sharing the scene simply vanished. Lead, supporting, bit part, extra—without exception, she erased their presence and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made only herself stand out on screen.

Han Ahyoung's role was a ghost story. A ghost story hiding in the company, pretending to be human. And near the end, the protagonist finds out—that the capable colleague he'd worked with all along had been a ghost story that needed to be quarantined. In the webtoon, only the readers could piece it together from the occasional directing choices and situations.

Han Ahyoung was none other than a ghost story that bewitched people. Anyone exposed to her beautiful face, voice, and figure lost their reason and went mad. They spent all day thinking only of her, growing stupider by the hour. Eventually, those who fell in love couldn't bear the fluttering in their hearts and killed themselves. To quarantine and manage her, only women could be in charge—because men were crushed by lust and reduced to less than beasts.

And yet only the protagonist remained unaffected. The ghost story, intrigued, began following him around. Looking at the personality and appearance descriptions, you could tell she was actually similar to Han Ahyoung. In fact, Cocoa Writer had said she'd created the character with Han Ahyoung as the model. It had even been adapted into a drama, and Han Ahyoung had taken the role. There was a reason Cocoa Writer had been especially fond of her.

"Okay!"

The take—long if you thought about it, short if you didn't—was over. Han Ahyoung had earned the director's okay on the first try. The expected filming period for Ghost Story Company was nearly ten months. Because it was a pre-production, the schedule wasn't tight—they were going for maximum quality. So on days with a lot of NGs, they sometimes couldn't even finish a single scene. They'd reshot the same cut over seventy times before. Han Ahyoung, outstanding not only in looks but in acting skill, was the exception.

"I'll take the shoulder shot."

Instead, they shot the same cut multiple times from different angles and approaches. And she pulled those off far more easily, too. Each time they repeated the same cut, her performance grew cleaner and more elegant. She got the okay in one take for all four different angles. Other actors appeared with her, but it strongly felt like they were just riding on Han Ahyoung's coattails—like they'd gotten the okay just by standing still.

"Five-minute break! Her clothes are mussed."

At the assistant director's words, each department adjusted their equipment, and the makeup team came back out to fix her wardrobe.

"Whoa..."

"Han Ahyoung is on another level entirely."

"Nailing this cut in one take..."

While everyone was marveling at Han Ahyoung's performance, someone tapped my shoulder.

"Ah, hyung. You're here."

It was Chun Yeonho.

"You delivered the cigarettes well."

That was the first thing he said upon seeing me? I replied casually.

"Thanks to you, hyung, I've gotten pretty good at offering things up."

"Looks like it. After Ahyoung, your name's the one that comes up next."

"My name?"

"There's this manager who carries around a subspace inventory. He's got everything."

There were rumors like that? First I'd heard of it.

"Want to go smoke?"

At Chun Yeonho's words, I looked over at Han Ahyoung. An assistant director and other actors had approached her and were chatting. She was popular—a star through and through. The staff would handle the small errands. For a moment, I felt like my eyes met hers. But it must have been my imagination—our gazes didn't connect or linger.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Suggesting a smoke was also a way of saying they needed to talk. He might have something urgent to tell me. Chun Yeonho's complexion looked excellent. Ever since he'd started smoking the 27th-century tobacco, a smile had been blooming on his face. Over this past week, he'd even gotten one more. So he'd been able to cum while getting thoroughly praised by Han Ahyoung for his cock. Or maybe he really just wanted to go smoke right now. He was a serious nicotine addict, after all.

The moment we stepped outside, Chun Yeonho pulled out a pack of 27th-century cigarettes. He carefully drew out a single cigarette as if gazing at a precious treasure. With the cigarette between his lips, he asked casually,

"I hear your car's that comfortable. Ahyoung really hates being in cars, you know."

"Oh, yeah?"

"It's the first time she's ever slept in a car."

"That's good. About the car."

"And I hear you've been having sex every day. Bareback."

The sudden, blunt remark made me cough.