"Moo-young's here?"
"Hello, PD-nim."
"What's with all the fuss?"
The PD, looking a bit pale already, approached and asked. Outdoor shoots were grueling not just for actors but for the staff too. Between Oon Ta and the assistant director, awkward glances flew back and forth. It was a petty yet touchy issue, leaving them hesitant about how to broach it.
"It's because of my hair."
"Huh? Your hair? Oh, right. Wax?"
Moo-young jumped in smoothly to shift the mood. If it was something tricky to bring up, better to leave it alone.
"You said to go for a nerdy image, but I wore a hat today, so it got flattened. Had to slick it back."
"It suits you well."
"Is this okay as is?"
"Hmm..."
The PD stroked his chin thoughtfully, then tossed the question to Oon Ta.
"What do you think? Looks good? You're 'friends' in the drama, after all."
Especially since they'd be in a two-shot. It was about whether he was okay with it—giving him the choice.
Oon Ta nodded as if it didn't matter.
"Of course. What's a little wax?"
"Good. We'll go with that. Gotta start shooting soon anyway—no time to waste. You sorted everything out like I said earlier?"
"Yes, PD-nim."
The AD seized the moment and trailed after the PD. The two men watched his retreating figure with peculiar expressions—like they'd never seen such a pathetic sight.
"...Let's keep running lines."
"Ah, yeah."
Oon Ta swallowed a sigh and focused on the script. Moo-young did the same. This was their first and last chance to sync up before shooting.
"Anything specific you want from me?"
Moo-young looked up from reciting his lines and asked. The question came out of nowhere, and Oon Ta didn't catch it at first.
"Want from you? Like what?"
"You're a supporting role. I'm here to back you up. If there's something you want me to play off of when we act, just say it. I'll do my best."
Oon Ta set his script down. It was the first time he'd heard anything like that in all his acting career. Back him up? Help him? Wasn't acting a solo gig? Could you even do that?
"What's wrong?"
Moo-young blinked, puzzled. No words were spoken, but he could tell something was off in Oon Ta's gaze.
"Nothing. Let's just focus on the lines."
"Sure thing."
Aigoo. He'd tripped over his lines earlier, and it must've soured his mood. Moo-young gave an awkward smile and synced breaths with him for the next ten minutes or so. Not that there was much to it—just one line, after all.
* * *
"Ready—! Action!"
Clack!
The slate snapped on the PD's cue. Oon Ta and the lead glared fiercely at each other on the street. Beside them, Moo-young—as Friend 1—tried to hold Oon Ta back.
"Hey, hey. Don't. Stop it."
"Let go!"
Whoosh!
Enter Moo-young. Nerdy glasses, rumpled shirt and uniform, hair slicked back with wax. Against that backdrop, he looked every bit the delinquent teen. Oon Ta shook off his hand roughly, and the PD called cut.
"Okay. We'll get the other angle now."
This was already the seventh take. There'd been a thirty-minute break between takes three and four.
"Moo-young-ah. Want some water?"
"No, I'm good. It'll mess up my lip gloss."
"Got a straw."
Go Kyung-min offered the bottle like he was nursing a sickly son, but Moo-young was firm. It was borrowed gloss—couldn't layer another color. His lips had to match the earlier shots.
"No one'll notice, kid."
"Still. Who knows how it'll edit."
They were spinning 360 degrees, nailing every angle. Sticking close to Oon Ta meant a close-up might make the cut if he was lucky. Leads and supports got input on edits, but...
Supporting roles are way tougher than I thought.
For a nameless Friend 1, he just had to shut up and follow orders. Moo-young suddenly thought of Uncle Oon Jeong-gil. How had he endured a decade-plus as an extra, not even a proper supporting role?
"Going again!"
"Yes!"
Filming continued amid the booze-soaked street. Onlookers gathered in clusters, then dispersed as new ones arrived... Bugs swarmed the neon-bright lights like moths.
"Ugh, ptoo!"
Oon Ta spat out a fly that had flown into his mouth, grimacing. It wasn't the hardest thing, but it sure wasn't easy.
He pleaded with the PD in an exhausted voice.
"PD-nim, can't we wrap this now?"
"Just the seventh take?"
Pre-production was a killer for this reason! With time to burn, they milked every angle to the bone. Still, better than live shoots.
"Sun's almost up. Next scene's the crying one—wanna get ahead?"
The sub-lead, gutted by the lead's truth bomb, weeping endlessly on the street. The PD checked his watch.
"Yeah, maybe. Let's do that."
The staff were zombies too. One dozed with his forehead on a camera tripod.
As Oon Ta handed his face to the stylist, Go Kyung-min and Moo-young flopped onto the ground for a break.
"Scene 35's done, so one more after this and we're golden."
"Man, this sucks. A friend told me—if you're homeless, join a drama shoot. No time to go home, so no need for one."
"Spot on. Brutal truth."
"Haha. Kinda makes sense. If this is supporting, leads must never see daylight."
That's why actors preferred films over dramas. Hard to focus amid the chaos—like right now.
"When the lead delivers his line, make tears roll right away."
Oon Ta's current hell. Worst of the worst: crowds gawking like he was a zoo monkey, heat, fatigue, bugs, sweat. Everything sabotaged his acting.
"...I'll try."
No way emotions would click. Staff cleared the area efficiently, stepping out of frame. The PD signaled while eyeing the monitor.
"Ready—! Action!"
Off-camera, the lead boomed his lines into the mic.
"Get your head straight. What she feels for you ain't love—it's pity. You're lost, messed up, so she just wants to fix you. Don't delude yourself. Don't call it love or some grand fate."
Oon Ta's face twisted in agony, confronting a reality he'd dodged. But no tears.
"NG!"
Another bust. He wanted to claw his face but makeup said no. He sighed deeply, clenching his fists.
"Sorry. Again."
Eye drops were out—needed raw sobs, not a drop or two. Oon Ta closed his eyes, chasing the feeling. But the noise sharpened.
"Whoa, NG just now, right?"
"Can't cry, huh."
"What now? Tsk. What's the scene?"
Whispers from the gawkers, stirring distractions. Oon Ta floundered, fists balled. Off condition, now crumbling mentally.
Fuck... can't tell 'em all to shut up...
Staff tried, but dozens of people? And they hushed for takes—what could you do?
"Oon Ta-ssi."
Moo-young, sitting nearby, called softly.
"Can't get the tears?"
"Can't you tell?"
Snappish tone—even Oon Ta was shocked, but Moo-young brushed it off.
"Then I'll cry with you up front."
"Huh?"
Emotional contagion, they called it. Like newborns: one cries, they all do. Humans empathize, syncing and spreading feelings.
Of course, Moo-young wasn't citing science—he just wanted to help.
"Seeing someone cry makes you sad, right?"
Simple as that... but theoretically spot-on.
"Oon Ta! Ready?"
"Huh? Yeah."
"Nail it this time? Yeah?"
Oon Ta stammered agreement in confusion. Lights pulled in, lenses on him. The lead started again.
...What the?
Moo-young's tears gushed simultaneously. Mouth shut tight to avoid mic bleed, just pure waterworks. Like a faucet—how?
It's okay.
Moo-young's eyes comforted him. Heartbroken for a friend's failed love.
Staring at that face, Oon Ta truly felt defeat. Outmatched in love, life—total loser.
"Hic..."
Reality vanished; only the drama world remained. Bugs, noise—all street texture.
"Damn..."
No scattered focus now. Oon Ta fixated on one woman: Daryeong's image flooded his mind. Eyes reddening. Tears streamed endlessly.
"Okay! Cut!"
"Good work."
PD's satisfaction, lead's relieved grin. Tough scene in two takes—blessing.
Moo-young wiped with his sleeve the second cut dropped.
"Sniff. Aigoo. Makeup's toast."
Fan-gifted—couldn't redo now! He dabbed gently with tissue.
Looking up at Oon Ta, he grinned.
"Worked, huh?"
"...Insane."
Not just effective—button-press tears? How? Oon Ta eyed him during makeup touch-up.
"No stylist?"
"As you see. Supporting."
"...Noona. Me, then this guy too."
Oon Ta murmured to his stylist. Moo-young's eyes widened in surprise.
"Viewers'd freak seeing you go in like that. 'Oon Ta's fine, why's that guy's eyes smudged?' Just take the makeup. Noona's killer."
"Oh... Thanks."
Moo-young plopped a director's chair beside Oon Ta and waited obediently. Beaming blankly—such an odd sight.
Wonder if there's anyone like that.
"Friends with Enbin-hyung, right?"
"Yeah."
Makes sense now—why Enbin stuck with him. Oon Ta pondered, then thanked his way.
"Then I'll call you hyung too. Few scenes left—let's crush it. Hyung. Drop the formalities."
Moo-young rolled his eyes awkwardly, no reply.
Actually...
We're same age. Portal says your birthday's later.
Family tree all twisted, but Moo-young couldn't bring it up. Once 'hyung,' he'd stick to it—resolute.
"...Yeah. Sure."
Moo-young agreed and shut his eyes quick. First supporting drama shoot wrapped at dawn, and the unexpected backlash hit fast.
📢 Anonymous Board PostExposing Actor Looks Comparison and On-Set Accident at M Network Miniseries Outdoor ShootPhotos and videos attached. Thorough exposé.
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