"Moo-young."
In the back seat of the van, Moo-young was curled up asleep, wrapped head to toe in a parka and blanket, with hot packs as an essential accessory. Go Kyung-min gently pressed a warm canned coffee against his cheek to wake him.
"We gotta get ready."
"Nngh..."
Moo-young's words about not needing a house anymore rang true. After the Plague premiere, he hadn't been able to go home. He'd dash off to film events, squeeze in shoots when schedules overlapped, nap in the van, and repeat.
"Hyung, not coffee—give me some throat lozenges..."
Eyes still closed, Moo-young reached out a hand. Instead of candy, what landed in his palm was a smartphone. Barely cracking one eye open as if to say What the hell?, he saw Go Kyung-min grinning.
"What's up?"
"Plague opened in early morning screenings yesterday. Aren't you curious about the results?"
"Whoa!"
Of course he was! Like a kid waiting for Santa. Moo-young bolted upright and rubbed his eyes furiously.
📰 Breaking NewsPlague Draws 140K Viewers on Opening Day, Tops Box Office
High Audience Preference Despite Restricted Rating
Clash with Wrinkled Lives… 40K Viewer Gap
"Congrats, Moo-young. Started off at #1."
"No way! Thank you!"
Moo-young grinned dreamily, still half-asleep. But his cheer was loud and booming. He patted his cheeks to chase away the drowsiness.
"I'll catch it on my way home tonight too. Gotta book a late show."
"No way. When would you even finish?"
"Isn't it wrapping at 9 PM today?"
"Script's backed up—probably later."
Go Kyung-min's words hit like thunder from a clear sky. Moo-young flopped forward with a groan.
Drama work was brutal. He'd heard it a million times, but he hadn't realized just how bad.
"That means I haven't been home for two whole days alreadyyy—"
"Don't know? Lee Jong-gu's interview? He went a month without going home once."
"What the hell? Why on earth?"
"Right? Anyway, chin up. Suck on this ginseng."
"Ugh."
Hating it but sucking down the ginseng stick anyway—Moo-young knew if he skipped it, his stamina wouldn't hold up. His routine was so wrecked, he was breaking out in pimples for the first time in his life.
"Hyung! Congrats on the #1 box office start!"
"Congratulations!"
"It's gonna smash! Haha! Let's make ours smash too, yeah? Moo-young!"
Stepping out of the van, waiting staff and Ro Min greeted him. Ro Min was lightly dressed—midwinter, but the drama's timeline was spring semester start, so just a blanket against the chill.
"Thanks, Ro Min. Here, take this."
"Oh, thanks."
Moo-young stuffed canned coffee and a hot pack into his arms. They were already overflowing, but more was always better.
"I'm heading to Plague after wrap tonight too. Whole group's going together."
"For real? Want tickets?"
"Already booked. Hyung, you'll blow your guarantee fee like that. Save some cash."
Ro Min laughed and cracked open the can. His face was pale—not looking great. Cold? Tired? Probably both.
"I don't know movies well, but does opening day viewers roughly predict the scale?"
Ro Min's question had Moo-young tilting his head at Go Kyung-min too, as if saying You answer.
"Kinda, but people look more at the first week's strength. Usually grabs 40% by then. Word-of-mouth can build momentum later, or it can tank mid-run—but not us, right?"
"Yeah, not us, right?"
Ptooey. Don't jinx it. Go Kyung-min spat and waved his hands.
Anyway, snagging #1 on opening day—even weekday, restricted rating, niche genre—was solid. Better than average, honestly. No small relief after worries.
"When'd you roll in, anyway?"
Moo-young eyed Ro Min's pallor.
"Me? Dawn yesterday."
"Damn. How many hours is that?"
"18. But half was napping in the van. Hyung, sit here. Check my expressions while I run lines."
Tough schedule, but better than extras pulling all-nighters. Moo-young sat and smiled.
"What to do? I'm too hyped to focus."
Drama premiere in a week! His face on TV. Screens and YouTube he'd done, but broadcast TV was new.
Ro Min grinned and flipped the script—sans back pages.
"When's the next one dropping?"
They'd shot Mira and Do-ha meeting on campus and joining the same club. Next should be school festival performance...
"Every other day lately—maybe around then?"
Moo-young sighed wistfully but smiled. Pre-recordings would run dry in a week at this rate. Then live side-scripting for real.
"Scary. So scary."
"Tell me about it. This is nothing—then it'll be insane."
No time limit, no script, glued to set 24/7. Ah, that month-without-home story made sense now.
"Next shoot incoming!"
Staff call—Moo-young and Ro Min whipped around. Finally!
Moo-young patted Ro Min's shoulder—Good luck.
"Standby!"
"Moo-young, touch-up makeup. Over here."
"Power cord in the frame! Clear it!"
Amid bustling staff, Moo-young fixed makeup. Then an ominous AD voice:
"PD, the scouted school field might not work."
"What? Why?"
"Pipes burst—repairs underway."
"Aigoo. Weather's screwing us too. Unreal."
Moo-young's ears perked, eyes rolling to eavesdrop.
"What now?"
"What else? Push the scene, find another spot."
"Hard to find frozen statues these days...and parks without trees are rare. Can't CG that."
Moo-young subtly turned. His coordi trailed slowly—Uh oh. Park with lots of statues, no trees. Seasonal vibe.
"PD, scene 23? Dancing with statues?"
"Huh? Yeah."
Do-ha's wild recruitment show for her club—including musical-style frolicking among statues.
"My school's got a spot."
"Where? Seoyeondae?"
"No, high school. One sec."
Moo-young dug through his gallery, showing a photo. Backyard mini-park—great landscaping for grad pics.
"Perfect. Grass but no trees."
"School name?"
"Myeonghwa High."
"OK. Scout it."
"Yes!"
"Standby—!"
Ro Min approached curiously. Moo-young just smiled—Nothing. First time back since graduating nearly a year ago. Weird feeling.
Everyone still the same?
* * *
Yeah. Exactly the same.
Last memory frozen in time. Moo-young followed the crew to the back. Faded grass? CG fixable.
"Set up."
"Moo-young, check blocking."
No time for nostalgia—everyone hustled. Moo-young dove in.
"School OK'd filming easy?"
"Yeah. Break, no kids but seniors—and your name sealed it. Super positive."
"Really?"
Pride swelled. A year ago, just a nobody high schooler. Now introduced as actor.
Then—
"Moo-young!"
"Huh? English teacher!"
"Oh my gosh! What brings you here?!"
Lunchtime visit from his English teacher. Not homeroom, but kind and supportive—the only one who'd cheered his acting dreams.
"Even handsomer now! Whoa! Ro Min!"
"Teacher, you're the same. Doing well?"
"Congrats on the movie. Hubby and I'll catch it after work. Wow, unreal, kid."
"Haha, thanks. Homeroom—no, Teacher Hong Myeong?"
"Special classes. Lunch soon. Can I watch?"
"Of course."
Moo-young smiled warmly. Lights and sound set, he excused himself inside.
"Blocking good?"
"Yeah. Left to center twice, then here. Wide shot first, then close-up?"
"Yep. Long shot to start."
"Got it. Ro Min, ready?"
"Yup."
Heart pounding. Acting at alma mater, known faces watching. Not bad nerves—exciting ones.
"Standby—! Rolling!"
AD's boom—Ro Min sat on bench, book in hand. Melancholy gaze lost in pages.
"Ready—action!"
Do-ha glided behind, peeking over. Jeong-min startled, turning.
Do-ha's grin pure mischief.
"So? Given it thought?"
"...!"
Oh my! English teacher gasped, hand to mouth. Not the sweet Moo-young from memory. Sly smirk transformed him.
Thwack! Jeong-min slammed the book—Enough already. Don't bug me. What're you doing on stage if you can't talk?
Do-ha unrelenting. Stepped back, gently grasping a statue's outstretched hand.
"Quit dodging. Yeah?"
Swaying like dance. Jeong-min ignored, stood and walked.
"Stage isn't just singing. Fine for you. But what's your hand's crime?"
Chased him, twirling statue to statue. Fluid transitions masterful—thanks to pro idol Ro Min's tips.
Ta-dak! Tak-tak! Jeong-min signed furious Fuck off.
Do-ha just smiled lazily. Leaned on statue shoulder, murmuring.
"See? Hands meant for performance wasting away cursing 'cause wrong owner. Not how they're meant to be used."
Ro Min flushed beet-red. Anger, irritation, shame mixed.
PD chuckled at viewfinder. Nice angle!
"I get it. Once you've tasted the stage, no living normal."
Moo-young traced statue's jawline. Touched chin, haughtily eyed Jeong-min.
"So, pretend you can't resist and join."
"...."
"That killer thrill—I'll show you again. Do it with me. Merrill Kelly name it is."
Sat on bench, legs crossed arrogantly. King of the garden—statues mere decorations.
Sneer—Do-ha winked.
"OK, cut!"
"Agh. No song makes it so embarrassing."
"Embarrassed? You? Just now?"
"Pulled it off so shamelessly."
Cut called—Moo-young hid his face, squatting. Ro Min and staff burst laughing.
"Not on camera, right?"
"As if! Up. Close-up next."
"Sniff—gotta do it again."
Moo-young scratched his burning neck, grinning. English teacher amid staff, eyes wide. Met his gaze—double thumbs up.
"Wooow! Ha Moo-young!"
"Sunbae! So coolll—!"
Special classes done—students crowded hallway windows, peeking. All-boys school, deep voices only.
"Thanks guyyys—!"
Moo-young waved playfully. Spotted familiar faces amid them: homeroom and subject teachers. He bowed deeply.
I'm back! Not just Ha Moo-young—the actor. That kid you worried about? Thriving.
"Moo-young! Standby!"
"Yes!"
Moo-young turned, beaming. Sunny rays? Alma mater gazes? Chilly day, but he felt no cold.
"Going!"
"Standby!"
Toasty with excitement.
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