Silence filled the air.
Both managers stared at the two actors, mouths slightly agape.
Different temperaments—but the same emotion.
Utter disbelief.
"And I practiced a ton so I wouldn't make any NGs.
But you want me to do that on purpose? Why? For what reason?"
Muyeong asked clearly, his tone bright and firm.
His pure, unclouded gaze shot straight into Lee Hee-jun's eyes.
Was this what utterly dumbfounded innocence looked like?
"Hey, you—"
Hee-jun faltered, caught off guard.
He'd assumed the kid was all smiles and bows, a pushover personality.
"You're not treating this shoot like a joke, are you?"
Now that was a dangerous kind of opponent.
That voice—steady, restrained, sincere.
The kind that pressed down with quiet conviction.
The expression that followed, one that asked "Are you actually okay in the head?", was priceless.
Whatever was running through Muyeong's mind, his face showed only honest bewilderment.
"Wait, are you joking? Are you here for fun or something, sunbae-nim?"
Gasp. This time, even Hee-jun's manager froze solid.
No malice in tone, no sarcasm—just clear, crisp words that sliced like blades.
"No, I—hey, listen—"
Watching the reactions from Muyeong and his manager, Hee-jun realized what a blunder he'd made.
But still—this wasn't how juniors were supposed to react!
There was a thing called saving face, wasn't there? Couldn't the kid just play along, even for show?
Just as he tried to recover the mood, Muyeong jumped back in.
"Right? That's not it, right? Whew, you almost scared me!
I was seriously thinking about how to respond if you were serious!"
"Are you not listening to me?"
"I'm listening! We're having a conversation, aren't we? You and me."
What the hell? He was getting completely overpowered.
The Lee Hee-jun—backed into a corner by a rookie?
Grinding his teeth, he hurled the cigarette away.
His face flushed crimson.
How humiliating!
Go Kyung-min quickly stepped between them.
Over his manager's shoulder, Muyeong peeked out and looked at Hee-jun.
"Let's just pretend we didn't hear that, shall we?
I'm sure it was a slip of the tongue. You've been so busy lately—it happens."
Oh-ho? Busy enough to lose your mind, huh?
Muyeong raised a thumb with a look of admiration—
completely unaware that it only twisted the knife deeper.
"Then we'll see you later, sunbae-nim.
Ah, and just to clarify—that rumor didn't come from us.
You know, the one that says you lost the role to Muyeong because of his acting."
"Right, not us! Totally not!"
Go Kyung-min's skill at subtly pushing buttons was masterful.
He'd survived far rougher industries than this.
Deflecting and cutting cleanly like this was nothing new.
"Let's go, Muyeong."
"Sunbae-nim! I'll have a coffee ready for you.
Make sure to wake up properly, okay? Fighting!"
Muyeong pumped both fists in the air, all smiles.
His manager sighed and tugged him away.
Even as they rounded the corner and disappeared, his voice echoed faintly—
"Fighting!"
"Those… those little—!"
"Hee-jun, calm down, calm down."
"Argh, fuck!"
Clang!
He kicked a pile of props, unable to contain his rage.
His manager exaggerated his gestures, trying to restrain him.
Behind the warehouse, where no one could see,
Lee Hee-jun's scream of humiliation rang out.
"How strange,"
Muyeong muttered as he stepped back onto the set.
Go Kyung-min jabbed him lightly in the ribs, a warning—
now that staff eyes and ears were everywhere.
"Just think of it as stepping on crap."
"But why would he even ask that?
I never even thought about doing that—messing up on purpose? …On purpose?"
The words themselves felt alien to Muyeong.
To him, "acting badly on purpose" was an impossible phrase.
To Hee-jun, it had been an order.
But Muyeong hadn't even realized it.
Go Kyung-min just smiled faintly, gathering up the script.
"Let's focus on filming.
The new lighting director's stopping by today, remember? Be sure to greet him properly—"
He recited the day's schedule smoothly while Muyeong bowed and greeted the staff.
The tired faces brightened at the sight of him.
"Hey, Muyeong! You're here?"
"Good morning!"
"Morning, kid!"
He greeted every single staff member—no exceptions.
Looking around, he tried to spot the lighting director, but no luck.
"Makeup right away?"
"Yes, noona. Oh, right—I should make some coffee."
"Coffee? But you don't drink coffee."
The youngest makeup artist looked puzzled as she set up her tools.
The warehouse door opened—and in walked Lee Hee-jun,
his temper barely cooled, eyes still burning.
Muyeong muttered under his breath.
Still not over it, huh?
"Not for me. I heard coffee wakes people right up.
There's someone who really needs it."
"Ready—!"
Jin Kyung-moon's voice rang out.
Everyone fell silent, watching Lee Hee-jun on set.
Janie's House, filled to the brim with trash—no room to even step.
Hee-jun took a breath.
"Action!"
"Where is it? Where the hell is it—!"
He tore through the floor like a madman,
searching for the note Janie had accidentally taken—
the paper that held the factory's daily-changing system code.
Crash! Thud! Scrape!
They'd add the sound effects later in post,
but this raw energy wasn't bad either.
The boom mic crept close, catching every sharp breath.
The performance kept rolling.
Through the viewfinder, Jin Kyung-moon's lips curved in satisfaction.
"Okay! Nice. Let's use that take. Prepare the next scene. Which one is it?"
"Scene 58 next. Are Yuna and Muyeong ready?"
"Before that, one last check on the choreography. Where's the stunt director?"
"Hee-jun-ssi, just a moment."
Between takes, the crew ran around like a storm—
only the actors had a brief moment to breathe.
"This is the first action scene for the two of them."
"Yeah. Kinda nervous."
"Don't worry, just trust Yuna."
It wasn't much of an "action scene," just a scuffle,
grabbing collars and tumbling a bit.
Yuna thumped her chest confidently while Hyojeong watched, expression blank.
Can I please just rest in the car? Please?
Her silent SOS was answered with an "X" sign from her manager.
Apparently, they had to stay and take still cuts.
"Unni, have a snack."
Yuna offered her some chips.
Normally, Hyojeong would never touch them—dieting and all—
but with the still camera right in her face, what could she do?
"Thanks."
"Are you done for the day, Hyojeong?"
As the three posed for photos, Hee-jun approached, wiping his hands.
The four of them faced the camera.
Click, click.
"Yes, for now."
"Lucky you. If there aren't any extra shoots, you get to leave early.
That's what's nice about being a supporting actor, huh?"
He threw an arm around her shoulder, smirking.
Hyojeong smiled for the camera, seething inside.
Yuna, munching on a chip, shot back without missing a beat.
"Then you should try being a supporting actor too, uncle."
"Huh? What was that?"
"If you envy supporting roles, you could play one.
You weren't originally cast as Jin, anyway."
"...Hey, Yuna?"
"Photo time! Eyes on the camera, please."
"Bold to the point of cunning."
Hee-jun clicked his tongue, glaring daggers at Yuna's back.
Their encounter was a whirlpool—pure chaos spinning tight.
In the corner, only the managers could clutch their pounding hearts.
What's with that kid, Muyeong… seriously?
All except for Go Kyung-min.
He seemed blissfully unaware of the delicate tension threading between
Hyo-jung and Hee-jun, and now between Hee-jun and Yuna.
"How about we try this pose?"
"Let's all link arms!"
"Wow, that came out great!"
If you had even a shred of social awareness, you couldn't possibly miss this.
But Muyeong, happily flashing peace signs for the still camera, was in his own world.
What Kyung-min didn't realize was—
"Everyone, one real smile, please!"
—it wasn't that Muyeong didn't know.
He simply didn't care.
Whatever. Water is water, mountains are mountains.
As long as filming went smoothly, that was enough.
He caught the still photographer's slightly dissatisfied expression
and nudged his co-stars gently, helping them adjust their poses.
Click! Click—!
"Yuna, Hee-jun-ssi! Muyeong! Over here!"
"Yes!"
And finally, the stunt coordinator called them over.
He alternated glances between the script and monitor, giving directions.
It was a three-person entangled scuffle scene.
"Okay, as we discussed, it's a physical tussle. Nothing too complicated.
Louis comes in first, spots Jin ransacking the floor, blocks Janie from entering,
then restrains Jin. Jin grabs Louis by the collar."
"What about the bandages connecting Yuna and me?"
"Use your right hand only—keep your left stretched back.
Yuna, match his movements. Struggle a little, like you're trying to help Louis."
A simple scene, really.
The only reason a stunt director was even there
was because the child actor was involved—
Director Jin Kyung-moon had personally asked for caution.
"Like this?"
Hee-jun grabbed Muyeong's collar smoothly.
"Then I'll twist my body right after."
"And then you block here—"
With all eyes on them, Hee-jun looked completely professional.
Go Kyung-min, who'd been worried, let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"So when I do this, that's where the cut comes, right?"
"You might need to move a bit faster."
"Got it. Director!"
It was a fight scene—one clean take was the goal.
The three practiced repeatedly until their timing clicked.
Just as Muyeong relaxed his shoulders—
"Hmmm."
Yuna frowned, scratching her chin.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It just feels... weird."
Her eyes fixed on Hee-jun's side profile as he chatted with the director.
Something was off.
He didn't look like himself today—something different, darker.
"I think the key is keeping the energy high.
After the shove against the wall, finish it naturally with ad-lib."
Director Jin gave the final note and put on his headset.
It was time.
Muyeong, noticing Yuna still frowning, tugged her gently by the hand.
"Ready—!"
Clap!
"Action!"
"Shit, where is it? The paper… it was yellow, I swear…"
Rustle—!
Jin's hands trembled, frantic, obsessive.
Scraps of paper scattered through the trashed room—
he was on the edge of madness.
Creak.
"I just changed clothes…"
"…!"
The door opened. Jin's head snapped toward the sound,
instinct driving him like a beast reacting to prey.
Bang!
"Janie! Don't—!"
"Get over here, you little—!"
"Run! Janie! Untie this!"
Hee-jun slammed Muyeong against the wall, gripping his collar.
Louis struggled desperately to shield the child,
the bandage between them tangling like a chain.
"Untie it and run!"
"Ahhh! Louis! I can't! It won't come off!"
Their shouts tore through the air,
Yuna's small frame whipping helplessly between them.
"You little bastard! You dare—!"
That line's not in the script.
And then, roaring, Hee-jun shook Muyeong's collar even harder.
BANG! CRASH! CRASH!
Harder than during rehearsal—but manageable.
Muyeong gritted his teeth and tried to pry him off when—
CLANG!
"Ugh!"
Hee-jun staggered, stunned.
Behind him stood Yuna, holding an aluminum pot.
"What are you doing? Ugh, seriously. Uncle! That's an NG."
She sighed loudly for the whole set to hear.
Her eyes said it all:
Ad-lib. It's called ad-lib.
A clear warning—
if Hee-jun so much as grabbed too roughly again,
she'd swing for real.
"Guess we'll have to redo that, huh, Director?"
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