Dirty shit and the like. He’d tried to avoid it this way and that, but what could he do when it kept pouring down like a torrential rain?
“Hey, what are you going to do now?”
Maybe getting dirtier myself could be a solution. Woonghee approached him. Drip, drop. Moisture fell, but he didn’t care about that at all.
“What are you going to do if I quit being a stuntman? When you can’t even film action scenes at all.”
Come to think of it, had he ever seen this guy up close like this? No, he hadn’t. He’d throw a fit even if he saw just one of his eyelashes.
“What kind of dog-like nonsense…”
“You can’t even wear a helmet. Because of your nose surgery.”
Tap tap tap, he spat out the words while tapping his nose with his finger.
“You’re fucked, you know.”
A suffocating silence flowed. Splash, splash. Only the heavy sound of the valley rippling filled this void.
The pretty face twisted hideously. He looked fucking innocent, yet he was always ready to tear anyone to shreds.
“Hey, I’ve seen plenty of bastards like you.”
“Ahh, you’ve seen plenty of bastards like me?”
Woonghee tilted his head to the side. He swept back the thin strands of hair flowing down over his forehead. A crescent-shaped eyelash shadow cast over the area near his cheekbones.
“Yeah, where does a stuntman bastard get off?”
Lee Ijun’s face had sunk hollowly. Like someone on drugs, there was no strength at all in his focus.
“We can just mass-produce them at a factory. Where are you acting up, you crazy bastard?”
Right, to you I must look like nothing more than an ant. An omega-born stuntman. You could replace hundreds of them like they were factory-made. If you have money.
“That’s right, you could just replace them.”
Woonghee smacked his lips. He deliberately looked down at his fingernails and acted nonchalant. He even blew on his nails—whoosh. As if he had no interest whatsoever in this kind of conversation.
“What were you doing cutting my wire so disgustingly?”
The jaw carved into a triangle clenched tight. Lee Ijun’s large black pupils dilated. It was an expression of being hit right on the mark. His bitten lower lip was turning deathly pale.
Why, did you think I wouldn’t know?
‘But didn’t Lee Ijun say earlier he wanted to see what the wire looked like?’
‘Hey, hey, keep it down, if word gets out we’re the only ones who’ll be fucked…’
The staff in charge of the mechanical equipment had definitely jabbered like that. They were whispering while smoking behind the stage. A few people who couldn’t even say a word to him because they were watching Lee Ijun’s mood were mixed in too.
“Yeah, I knew. Did you think I’d want to put up with it even knowing, for fuck’s sake?”
Woonghee took another step forward. He felt a gaze flying from the side. It was the man’s eyes, sharp as an arrowhead. Eyes glistening with oil. He couldn’t overcome his fierce interest. Whoosh—he smoked as if the cigarette finally tasted good.
“…Shit.”
Woonghee chewed out the curse quietly.
Such trivial interest—he didn’t want to attract it at all. But anyway, it was a life where flies swarmed just from breathing. Like maggots infesting a rotting corpse.
“It’s so shitty I can’t live like this. I should quit being a stuntman and become an actor too.”
Moisture gathered on Woonghee’s delicate jaw and dripped. When he rubbed his reddish lips with the back of his hand, a moist sound burst out softly. Tsk, tsssk.
“How much did you get paid?”
Huh? Woonghee raised his crescent-shaped eyebrows. A smooth porcelain-like sheen flowed over his white cheeks. His reddish lips were full of vitality, plump like fruit.
It had only been one night. He’d forced himself to sleep in a place with a door, eaten his fill, and washed in the valley stream. Yet he was radiating beauty like a rose given plenty of water. It was the ecstatic beauty that the omega blood he so despised exuded.
With his handsome face, he seemed to be mocking—isn’t this exactly what you need to seduce people?
“Can’t I get half too?”
Lee Ijun’s lips trembled. As if someone had put a zipper on those lips. A vicious and utterly selfish expression was overlaid on his angelic face.
“I can film all the action scenes by myself. I should ask for five million won more.”
“Hey, you psycho. Who said they’d use someone like you? Get a grip. Is broadcasting a joke to you?”
Finally Lee Ijun thrust his jaw up and barked roughly.
“Ijun-ah. Fuck, I can’t do stuntman work anymore.”
Woonghee shook his head slowly. No matter how much I struggle here, it’s just a gutter.
“Bastards like Director Hwang keep clinging to me asking to have sex. Bastards like you think you’re the emperor at every opportunity and drain people dry.”
Once, they were filming a scene where he had to escape from flames. He’d even gotten burns on his ear. But what did Lee Ijun step up and say?
‘Anyway, fuck, doubles are there to get hurt, aren’t they?’
Naturally the atmosphere on set froze coldly.
All the scenes of him jumping into fire, narrowly avoiding explosives, brawling with enemies, even the scene of holding a kitchen knife and cutting vegetables—hadn’t he filmed all of them in his place?
‘Ah, here, here, that bastard’s face showed up!’
If even the corner of his mouth appeared, he’d have a fit. Insisting they film it again.
“People say I have a pretty decent face.”
Woonghee kept moving his lips. That’s why that bastard Director Hwang dragged his wrist like that, asking him to go to a second round.
“Don’t you remember? I hid in the bathroom to avoid that bastard, but he chased me all the way there. Weren’t you the one keeping watch outside then?”
Back then Woonghee had come out with a mop and swung it around like a madman. Telling everyone to fuck off, that he’d kill them if they came close. He’d really turned that place upside down, staking his life on it.
“Like you said, there must be demand, even for someone who looks like a rag like me. So I’m going to try selling this face.”
“Someone like you can’t be on broadcast, you’re too vulgar. Below standard.”
“Porn? Does that pay a lot too?”
Haa—a breath burst out from one side. It was Managing Director Gi’s laughter. Lee Ijun clenched his fist tight. Trembling, both their faces had turned bright red.
“Woonghee-ssi is really vicious.”
Managing Director Gi quietly laughed, taking advantage of the brief pause in conversation. He slowly raised two fingers and lightly pressed near his lips. His fingertips trembled faintly. Not from holding back laughter, but as if suppressing pleasure.
“Haha… really, Woonghee-ssi… I didn’t expect you to come out that strong.”
The man was genuinely delighted. Because he absolutely loved the moment when a talented underdog tore through the establishment and rose up.
It was a show as filthy as a living hell, and fatally seductive.
“Our Ijun’s going to cry.”
Managing Director Gi stopped speaking. He looked at Woonghee slowly and indulgently. His eyes were still smiling, but the inside of those eye sockets gleamed strangely.
It was the gaze of a starving beast, as if seeing juicy meat. A gaze suppressing the urge to tear someone apart.
Those eyes slowly swept over Woonghee’s lips, cheeks, even the hem of his wet shirt. It wasn’t simple lust rising up. It was a far more dangerous kind of interest.
“If you deliver lines with that mouth, I think it would work well?”
Managing Director Gi smiled and flicked his cigarette with his finger.
“Right? You just have to babble according to the script.”
Woonghee quietly spat out the words. A voice neither too firm nor too weak.
Managing Director Gi slowly savored those last words. Like gently caressing the scales of a freshly caught fish with his fingertips. Lee Woonghee was truly a fish flopping about and boasting of lush vitality.
He narrowed his eyes. His oily gaze glided up along Woonghee’s wet jawline.
Right, this isn’t simple lust. Lust is just a momentary emotion. What this was now was a fierce sense of investment.
“Your mouth opens up more refreshingly than I thought, Woonghee-ssi.”
Those words came from his mouth, but inside he was smiling. A third party, an extra, spat as if wanting to slap Lee Woonghee’s cheek.
“You’ll be the first one to die here.”
He jabbered like that, but Lee Woonghee dug into his ear hole with his index finger as if someone had spouted bullshit.
Even that looked like a work of art.
