“Hey, Seungun-ah. Why aren’t you listening when I call you….”
“Oh, Team Leader-nim.”
“……”
Myeongwoo flinched and stepped back. The guy who had been perfectly fine until yesterday looked expressionless like a dead person. His face, as if he couldn’t even get a sip of gruel, was completely different from the guy who’d overeaten and gotten indigestion in Bali, and his eye sockets were deeply sunken. He was definitely the Seungun he knew, but it was like he wasn’t him. Myeongwoo removed his hand from Seungun’s shoulder and continued.
“Oh, I had business nearby and was passing by when I saw you. Did the reserve forces training go well?”
“Reserve forces training? Ah…. Yes. It went well.”
Seungun’s voice had no inflection. It was dry like a machine voice. To the point where it was difficult to say anything more.
“I see. Go in and rest. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
It was eerie. Was reserve forces training that exhausting? He couldn’t carelessly suggest they go somewhere for soju and pork belly since the blind date had been rejected. Myeongwoo watched Seungun walk away staggering, then glanced around. It was a shopping street with signs packed together so tightly that he couldn’t even guess where Seungun had come from.
Seungun confirmed that Myeongwoo was walking away and hurriedly boarded a bus heading home. Luckily, a direct bus had just arrived. He squeezed into the packed bus with no room to stand, and people frowned and moved aside.
The very back seat—only after securing a corner window seat in the very back, which he obtained while receiving frowns from those standing in front who didn’t think it would be empty because there were too many people, could he close his eyes.
Trudging home, he scrubbed his body in hot water as if disinfecting it. Then he felt a bit better.
When he opened the refrigerator, frost chunks were visible here and there. He scanned the refrigerator interior with dry eyes, but too lazy to prepare a meal, he took out a beer. He hooked his finger on the ring and opened it. He put it to his mouth and gulped it down. His insides became coldly soaked.
He quickly felt full. His body shivered with chills. He pulled over the blanket and covered himself up to his neck. Then he turned on his phone and opened an application that only appeared through search. He pressed the play button. Crackle, crackle. After being quiet for a while, Gi Siyoung’s voice flowed from the phone.
– Where’s the script?
Bustling movements as if searching for something. The sound of paper fluttering. The sound of sitting down with a sigh of relief. Then a calm voice began reading the script. Seungun closed his eyes. Like warm water slowly permeating cold water and becoming lukewarm, his insides felt better. Soon, he fell quietly asleep like a baby listening to a lullaby.
***
Large eyes more vacant than usual. No light in them. When he approached closer, he could hear labored breathing. Whether he’d drunk heavily with people after reserve forces training ended, he was completely out of it. It had been strange since morning. His complexion was unusually pale.
When someone you work with acts like that, even if your condition is good, it feels uncomfortable. Gi Siyoung deliberately turned away his gaze that kept drifting in that direction and followed the stylist’s request to close his eyes for a moment. Swoosh. Even that didn’t last long before they opened again.
Im Seungun, sitting in the corner of the waiting room, was quietly spacing out. Deeply sunken eye sockets, eyelids closing with difficulty. He would rather click his tongue and turn his head if he was nodding off. Was reserve forces mobilization such a difficult thing? Gi Siyoung, who was far from military service, had no way of knowing.
“Seungun-ah, are you not feeling well today?”
Myeongwoo sat next to Seungun.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”
“You should have rested well yesterday.”
“Yes, ah, yesterday—”
“Reserve forces training really drains your energy when you go.”
Myeongwoo didn’t bring up any talk about yesterday’s encounter.
“You didn’t eat breakfast, did you? At least eat a sandwich.”
“I don’t have an appetite.”
Pale lips indicated his refusal. Looking at the air conditioner running cold enough to be chilly, the iced Americano with ice floating creating condensation on the cup holder, a chill rushed in enough to make his teeth ache. Did he catch air conditioning sickness? Seungun unknowingly chattered his teeth and shook his head.
Siyoung, who had been watching them through the mirror, clicked his tongue inwardly. As expected, his prediction seemed correct. There’s no cure for getting sick after playing around. Gi Siyoung got up from the waiting room, grabbed his script, and headed to the filming location. Then Seungun also got up and followed behind with a haggard face.
Excluding the window corner where the main characters sat, the interior of the teahouse with only two or three tables had yellow indirect lighting installed on the ceiling and walls. Thanks to the walls and ceiling connected with wooden planks, the tranquil atmosphere of old times came alive.
Chairs with black frames and yellow leather cushions on the seat part, four to each table, gave unity to the traditional teahouse, and the old harmonium in the corner of the teahouse exuded nostalgia for that era, which he didn’t even know. Whether it actually worked or not was uncertain, but it was undoubtedly a perfect prop for recreating the appearance of an old teahouse.
Old folk paintings hung here and there on the walls. A school of carp wriggling in rough waves, a tiger sitting quietly under a tree with its tail curled, a scene of two affectionate mandarin ducks touching their beaks together on a branch full of flowers.
“Today is the scene where our Mukho secretly makes contact with the chief—”
Director Kim began a brief briefing. The interior of the teahouse full of traditional beauty wasn’t an actual location but a perfect set. Gi Siyoung’s partner today was a middle-aged actor he’d worked with several times in previous works.
Go Hanjeok, with kind-looking eyes and a reticent impression, was a regular actor for high-ranking executive or chairman roles. It was the same in this work. It was also Go Hanjeok who had deployed Gi Siyoung, who only had a future of becoming an elite by following an elite course, into the dark world.
When the camera rolled, the two quickly immersed themselves in their respective roles. In the drama scene, they would gently layer a melancholy melody flowing from the teahouse, but since they had to capture only the protagonists’ voices during actual filming, the site was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
“Standby, shoot!”
The cut sign followed.
The two sat facing each other and acted fiercely. Sparks flew as hot as the lights installed on the set. The director entered the set and gathered opinions with the actors on the spot, giving direction.
Gi Siyoung pulled his tie down to his solar plexus and leaned his body against the sofa backrest. The shirt choking his neck was stifling. From the lights installed on the set to the large lights shooting at the actors. Everything around was sweltering.
“Let’s take a break, Director.”
“Shall we?”
The assistant director shouted to the staff to take a short break.
“I’m one step away from my bladder bursting. I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Yes, go ahead, sunbae-nim.”
When the camera turned off, Go Hanjeok jumped up and rushed out. Unlike his reticent impression, his co-actor had a somewhat goofy side. Probably that side felt human, which was why writers and directors cast the same actor in similar roles every time.
The next scene would continue in the same place anyway, so Gi Siyoung didn’t leave his seat. The approaching stylists fixed his disheveled appearance and facial makeup.
“Siyoung, it’s been very good so far. Very good, but you’re lacking a bit of wavering.”
“Wavering?”
“Our drama’s main genre isn’t romance, but anyway, right now your heart is in a state of almost falling for the boss’s daughter or not.”
“That’s right.”
“You’re just barely stepping foot across the boundary line. But both sides are tightly choking you. You can’t even breathe. If you make one wrong move here, you become a traitor on both sides. But still, that woman keeps bothering you.”
Bothering you.
“You need to use that wavering force a bit more.”
Being bothered is an idiom used when attention keeps focusing on someone even when the object isn’t in front of your eyes. The emotion isn’t clear, but you know well what’s irritating. Gi Siyoung’s pupils moved naturally as if searching for something.
Between the tall camera equipment, Im Seungun was visible. He stood pitifully in the corner. Looking at him standing blankly like a grim reaper on a business trip, his face bearing all the world’s shadows, Director Kim’s voice chattering away with all sorts of details beside him became faint.
“You understood what I meant, right?”
“Of course. I’ll try to go with it as you said.”
Gi Siyoung, who immediately turned his gaze to the director, smiled brightly.
