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Chapter 76 - Documentary Spotlight

"Hello."

Ha Moo-young sat against a plain white wall. He gave a slight bow toward the camera, smiling warmly.

"I'm rookie actor Ha Moo-young."

This was probably the first time he'd introduced himself like this since filming the audition tape for Hanbam Pochah. Ha Moo-young fiddled awkwardly with his sleeve, glancing at the production crew surrounding him. Lee Yu-jin PD was there, along with the main PDs, writers, and cameramen.

"How long has it been since your debut?"

A writer crouched in front of him, tossing out the question. It would all be edited down to subtitles in the final cut. Following their instructions, Ha Moo-young paused for exactly two seconds before answering. That brief gap would serve as the edit point.

"The movie's just about to release, and drama filming hasn't even started yet. I'm basically still a chick that hasn't hatched—haven't really debuted at all. And I haven't been acting for long."

The interview kicked off like that. Go Kyung-min stood by the door, checking his watch. The documentary was scheduled right alongside the script reading. They'd film a bit here, then move next door for the reading.

Tight schedule, he thought. Still, it was a relief they were all under the same S Network roof with overlapping PDs. It gave them flexibility in routing and timing.

"-It wasn't anything special when I first started acting. Senior year of high school. That was a really tough time, you know? I felt like I was going to die if things stayed the same, and my mind just went blank."

Ha Moo-young recited his prepped answers smoothly from the cue cards. Treating it like a 'show' made it not so hard.

"PD, time's up."

"Already? Let's move."

"Bring the lights as-is."

The one slightly burdensome thing was that the camera never stopped rolling. Ha Moo-young startled, looking around.

"We're moving just like this?"

"It's right next door. Let's go."

"Ah. Got it."

Awkward. Ha Moo-young stood clumsily and led the way in front of the camera. Most of the cast was already there, seated. Since it was the official reading, not only the documentary crew but also reporters and the production company's still photographers were present.

"Hello."

"Good morning."

Idols, as expected. Sparkling even in the morning, perfectly styled. They flashed bright smiles and waved at the camera.

"Please take a seat and wait a moment."

As he sat in the spot a staffer directed him to, all eyes turned his way. Ha Moo-young's neck and ears flushed red. This is too embarrassing. On set, cameras had clear on-off cues, but this felt like a lost puppy being tailed everywhere.

"This is the company anniversary documentary, right?"

Song A whispered to him from the next seat. She kept her face angled perfectly toward the camera even while talking.

"They're sticking with us all day like this."

"Whoa, intense. Just like when I did Lovers in Pairs."

She meant that virtual dating simulation variety show. They'd filmed nearly 24/7 there too.

Ha Moo-young propped his chin on his hand, idly flipping through his script.

"Alright, looks like everyone's here, so let's start the reading. First off, thanks for cooperating with today's documentary shoot. I'm Lee Yu-jin PD, handling direction."

The reading began with her greeting. The assistant directors and key staff followed with their intros, and among the actors, Ha Moo-young spoke first.

"Merrill Kellin leader Im Do-ha here. Nice to meet you."

He vividly recalled greeting near the end during Plague. And now, just a few months later, he was snagging the lead role. Talk about a world of difference.

"Mi-ran, played by Song A."

"The Little Mermaid's Prince Ro Min!"

The leads and supporting cast took turns. There were plenty of veteran character actors too, thriving in their salty side roles.

"Okay, shall we begin?"

They'd already done intros before shooting started, but it was still awkward. A massive camera was zeroed in on him for the documentary.

"#1. Let's start from the playground in front of the university. Song A?"

"Yes!"

Her official first lines. Song A trembled slightly from nerves—something only Ha Moo-young, watching closely, could barely catch.

"Ugh. So cold."

Mi-ran, who'd bombed her college entrance exam and run away from home. She sat blankly in the so-called playground of youth, watching passersby. Why's everyone smiling like that? They all look so happy, without a care. Everyone but me.

"I wish the Earth would just end."

"Can't have that."

That marked her first encounter with Do-ha. Her exam sheet, shifted one row over, miraculously scored high enough for H University admission! The story followed the sunbae-hoobae duo as they built love and friendship through club activities.

"Good. Let's keep it flowing, no pauses."

The PD flipped pages contentedly. Everyone had prepped hard; it was smooth sailing. Well, there were minor directing notes, but...

Too many cameras.

She'd relay them privately later. With reporters and both production and documentary cams rolling...

And if the fandom freaks out, it'll be a headache. Kids these days were scary. Lee Yu-jin PD smiled faintly, focusing on her script. Ha Moo-young glanced around, then scribbled a note on his script's edge and passed it to Song A.

Do you habitually brush your hair back?

Song A's eyes widened at the memo. Me? Brushing my hair?

Sitting down, it's fine now, but if it's a habit, better fix it. Mi-ran always has messy hair. Doesn't fit the character. Sorry if that offends.

She hadn't realized. Probably from stage performances, hair down while dancing...

No, thanks. Anything else?

Your 'R' sounds a bit leaky.

The two pressed foreheads together, whispering feedback. It was a first for Ro Min alone, so they treaded carefully.

"Ha Moo-young?"

"Yes?"

They jumped at Lee Yu-jin PD's sudden call. She smiled and asked,

"This part goes to close-up with no dialogue. Debating whether to cut the background sound entirely. Feels like the acting needs some audio to breathe. Thoughts?"

The monotonous reading room. The documentary main PD and writer exchanged silent glances. They'd picked Ha Moo-young on Lee Yu-jin PD's recommendation, but...

"Honestly, beyond being handsome, who knows?"

"Parachute kids are a dime a dozen. Just pass it off."

What they wanted were starving rookie artists scraping by in basements on peanuts. Ha Moo-young might be crashing somewhere, but on the surface, his life looked like a golden highway.

"Straight into a Jin Kyung-mun director film from the start. Lead in a broadcast drama right after. Plenty have thrown their lives away chasing that."

"Luck counts as skill if you have it."

"Luck without skill is just fluke."

As the writer and PD murmured, Ha Moo-young pored over the script at Lee Yu-jin's request.

[Do-ha, having nailed the stage. His face brims with ecstasy and joy as he surveys the audience.]

Tricky direction, for sure. Conveying the venue's heat purely through expression, no lines.

The passion only artists feel on stage. The heat. Fan energy. Ecstasy. Overflowing thrill. Endorphins bursting. Utter satisfaction where even death holds no regrets. Bliss.

Too abstract. But the idols who'd performed knew exactly what it meant. They knew, yet explaining it was tough—how to show it to non-performers?

"What kind of sound?"

"Fan cheers."

Fade out slowly (audio gradually fading to nothing) to spotlight the protagonist's emotions purely.

Ha Moo-young pondered, then looked up.

"Let me try. You can judge after. I don't know which is better either."

"Ah, I meant—"

Whether no sound was needed. If acting alone could carry it. But missing her intent, Ha Moo-young nailed the emotion instantly.

"Depends on the ending track. First version."

Ha Moo-young's smile bloomed wide, blindingly happy—like he might die from joy. His slightly teary eyes sparkled beautifully under the conference lights.

Snap!

"And the second."

He snapped his fingers, shifting expressions like magic. Similar smiles, but the sound infused wholly different feelings.

Emptiness. That post-performance comedown singers knew well. After communing with hundreds, thousands of fans on stage, the lonely return home alone. Isolation often crashed over them.

Snap!

"Next, purely for Do-ha's character."

Utterly confident, haughty grin. Of course it's me! I nailed this killer stage! Pure, unadulterated ideal confidence—no negative shades like before. One hundred percent perfection.

"Think I can pull it off like this."

Ha Moo-young cycled through three expressions in a flash, eyeing Lee Yu-jin PD. Barely seven seconds? The intense trio burned into memory.

"Were you an aspiring singer or something?"

A mid-career actor asked curiously.

"Ah, no. Just prepped as an actor."

"But you nailed the nuances. I mean, I don't know perfectly, but those smiles were similar yet distinctly different. Hit spot-on."

"Thank you."

Ha Moo-young stood, bowing deeply. That veteran had survived nearly forty years in the game. Praise for his acting from him?

Jackpot.

Song A and Pyo Rai exchanged looks, laughing in disbelief. Insane. He really is that good.

"PD?"

"Ah, yeah. Sound director?"

"I think we can skip it. Just capture Moo-young's expressions."

The sea of agreement. Lee Yu-jin PD scribbled out the SFX on her script with her pen.

"Alright, let's continue. Where were we?"

The reading resumed its groove. Only the reporters and still team in the corner stomped in frustration.

"Damn, that expression was gold. Did you get it?"

"No, too fast."

Like a pro magic show. How'd he pinpoint it so deftly, perfectly! The finger snap amplified it.

"Sunbae, did we catch it?"

The documentary writer snapped to, asking the cameraman. He nodded confidently. The PD and writer exchanged sheepish mutters.

"We have to air that."

"Duh."

"They drilled 'watch your mouth for years after joining,' but I guess I'm still green."

Minutes ago, trash-talking parachutes felt mortifyingly cringey. Nothing like that anywhere. Rare now, rarer later.

"If he's good, we might be filming something legendary."

Chronicling a future star's past. The writer couldn't snark back as usual. It felt too real.

"Next is heading to Ha Moo-young's place, right?"

"Yeah, we'll move together."

"Where's he live?"

"Somewhere in Mapo. Crashing at an officetel, apparently. Pretty nice, he said. Don't be shocked."

The PD's teasing drew a laugh from the writer.

"Shocked? Works for us. Viewers eat that up—who lives where, how much they make."

Raw curiosity drove ratings. She checked her watch, waiting for the reading to wrap. Let's see how nice this place was—capture it on film!

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