Episode 8) #2. Is Being Handsome Everything?
The script for *The Master of Wind and Moon* was placed in Yeonho’s hands. With time running short, the second assistant director stuck close to the high schooler and rapidly listed off the things he needed to keep in mind.
“…Got it?”
“Yes, I think I do.”
He didn’t understand everything exactly, but he had grasped it roughly. Teacher Shin had left to film, and from this point on, he had no choice but to pull it off entirely on his own. His brain was running at full capacity like never before.
However, the assistant director was looking at him with eyes full of doubt.
“Assistant Director, is something wrong?”
“Are you really going to be able to do this? I heard you’ve never stood in front of a camera before. This is even harder than performing on a theater stage. Even actors who’ve made a name for themselves in Daehangno freeze up in front of a camera and can’t perform properly. It’s not just the camera watching you—all the production staff will have their eyes on you alone. It’s really hard for an inexperienced person. Someone filming for the first time doesn’t even know how they’re being captured on-screen.”
“It’s okay. I think I can do it.”
“At least you’re fairly confident. That’s a relief. Director Joo’s specialty is making people look good on-screen, so maybe it’ll work out somehow…”
If it didn’t, there would be no choice but to call off today’s shoot. However, mindful of the actor’s nerves, the assistant director swallowed those words.
The actor was supposed to analyze the scene he would be performing and portray it in his own way, but there was no way that could be possible after only a few hours. With no other choice, the assistant director stayed beside him and diligently explained the meaning and blocking contained in each scene.
He even demonstrated the movements himself without hesitation, sometimes reciting the lines as he delivered an impassioned lecture.
“Ha, I feel like I’ve become a lecturer. What is this, rote education? Do you even understand what I’m saying?”
Yeonho could only smile sheepishly.
“Yes. I understand it perfectly.”
“Re…ally? Then I’ve explained everything there is to explain, so I wish you luck. Fighting.”
Yeonho honestly didn’t find it particularly difficult. Perhaps because he had spent all that time watching the filming while waiting, his confidence that he wouldn’t freeze up in front of the camera soared.
‘Is this just baseless confidence?!’
His heart rate was higher than usual, but not enough to throw off his breathing or vocalization.
Even a glance through the script clearly specified what the character needed to express and what his intentions were, so he didn’t find it especially difficult. While Yeonho felt that way, the assistant director had hovered around him for more than thirty minutes, repeating the same explanations over and over before finally leaving.
Several hours later, the fateful moment finally arrived.
“Let’s do a little rehearsal, then get into the shoot!”
Thanks to Director Joo’s incredible skill in pushing the filming schedule forward, he had managed to secure more time than expected.
Only when it was time for the rehearsal did a high schooler leap out of a black Starcraft van. He was the lead male protagonist of the film, playing Kim Yo (金嶢), the 52nd King Hyogong of Silla!
‘He’s handsome.’
The young Hwarang who emerged from the van was what people generally called a handsome guy.
Yeonho had lived as an ugly duckling for seventeen years, and because of that, his standards for beauty weren’t particularly strict. From Yeonho’s perspective, someone like that was *very* handsome.
However, in the eyes of the people in this industry, he merely had a pleasant, decent-looking face. In fact, everyone knew that, at this moment, Do Yeonho’s suddenly appearing looks were shining far more brightly, though no one mentioned it.
The high schooler playing Kim Yo realized it the moment he saw Yeonho. His was the kind of handsomeness that made people gasp the instant they laid eyes on him.
His milk-white skin shone brightly, while his clear eyes possessed enough depth to evoke a variety of moods. His distinct features gave him the freshness unique to a boy, yet they were still masculine. And at the same time… there was something beautiful about him.
This high schooler, Song Si-hun, was so shocked that he stiffened like a board.
“Si-hun, are you okay?”
He only came to his senses when he heard his manager noona’s voice.
“Is that the guy who suddenly replaced Park Gyeong-hwi?”
“Yeah, apparently. Haha… He’s incredibly handsome.”
For a moment, Si-hun clenched his fists tightly. He wanted to deny that bastard’s good looks, but he couldn’t!
“Tch, is being handsome everything? Is being handsome all that matters? An actor should be good at acting. Looking at him, he’s obviously a parachute hire.”
Until he came out of the van, he hadn’t cared in the slightest that the actor he was supposed to work with had been in an accident or that his role had suddenly been replaced by one of the extras.
But now, he felt an extremely powerful sense of crisis.
‘If I get on-screen with a guy like that, what will I look like?’
He was the lead actor. How could he let some unknown nobody outshine him in looks? But the moment he saw Yeonho, he had no choice but to admit that he’d already been outclassed. If even he himself thought that way, what about the other staff? The audience?
‘Aaaaargh! This is so freaking annoying!’
Irritation surged through him, but he couldn’t express it outwardly. In the end, all that jealousy and envy erupted as hostility toward Yeonho.
“Hey, extra.”
“Yes?”
Yeonho’s eyes went round. He knew that kid was playing Kim Yo, but even if they were both high schoolers of the same age, they had never met before. Was he really speaking informally right off the bat?
‘What’s with him? Does he know I’m seventeen? He looks like he’s a junior or senior in high school.’
While he pondered alone, another surly voice flew at him.
“I’m your senior in this industry. How dare you look at me like that? You little punk, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Ashamed of himself?
Yeonho’s eyes rolled from side to side.
“What should I be ashamed of?”
“What?”
When Yeonho suddenly started speaking informally as well, Song Si-hun became flustered instead. He had expected the innocent-looking kid to back down if he took the initiative, but the boy had unexpectedly met him head-on. And with such an innocent expression, at that!
“I asked what I should be ashamed of.”
Holy crap, he was calmly asking again with those round eyes wide open!
“Ah, fuck. Does this parachute not even know he’s a parachute?”
“Si-hun, we have to start the rehearsal, so if you two fight like this…”
“Ah, seriously, noona, stay out of it.”
Yeonho’s eyes widened as far as they could.
‘What’s wrong with this guy?’
He spoke informally to people he had just met, swore at people he had just met, and even talked rudely to his adult manager noona. When Yeonho had first seen him, he’d thought, *What a really handsome guy.* But after hearing him say such things, he suddenly looked like a squid.
“Hey, parachute. I heard you’ve never even stood in front of a camera. You little punk, you really have no conscience. And you still gobbled up the role?”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Wh-what, what did you say?!”
Perhaps it was an unexpected response, because Song Si-hun’s face flushed bright red.
“I don’t know you. Why did you suddenly appear and start speaking informally to me the moment we met?”
“What? You don’t know me?”
Song Si-hun was a fairly well-known child actor. But to Do Yeonho, he was simply some guy he didn’t know.
“How would I know who you are?”
“Okay, rehearsal’s starting! What are you all doing? Kim Yo, Park Gyeong-hwi, get moving!”
At the assistant director’s shout, Song Si-hun was dragged away by his manager noona, trembling with rage, while Yeonho walked over with an untroubled expression.
“Hey! Kim Yo! Why is your face so red? You’re not going to look like that once we start shooting, are you?”
Director Joo Hyeon-guk’s firm yell made Si-hun flinch.
“Y-yes. It’ll be fine soon.”
Unexpectedly, the rehearsal with the young Hwarang gathered together ended quickly. There were no major weak links among the extras, and above all, the newly chosen Park Gyeong-hwi was calm and composed.
“That kid’s the real deal, isn’t he? Is this really your first time? Why are you so calm?”
Yeonho merely scratched his cheek and smiled. In the warm atmosphere, only Si-hun burned with profound fury.
‘Get too cocky relying on that face of yours, and you’ll regret it, you bastard.’
A fierce determination raced through his eyes.
“Okay, stand by!”
Dozens of young Hwarang lined up on the training grounds.
The noisy set fell silent in an instant, and several cameras and staff members surrounded them. Teacher Shin, who had finished filming, quietly watched his student from a distance, neither acknowledging him nor approaching. He was worried that he might break Yeonho’s concentration.
However, Song Si-hun taunted Yeonho in an attempt to shake his condition.
“Don’t make us shoot this over and over because of your terrible acting, okay? It’ll be fucking annoying.”
“I’d appreciate it if you focused on doing well yourself.”
Yeonho merely swallowed a small, round piece of raw chocolate. Then he closed his eyes.
“Roll sound!”
Click!
The assistant director lowered the slate.
Director Joo Hyeon-guk watched the Hwarang appearing on-screen and shouted,
“Action!”
The first scene wasn’t particularly difficult. The Hwarang simply had to stand still in formation.
However, the two leads, Kim Yo and Park Gyeong-hwi, had to maintain their emotions, and both of them did an excellent job of doing so.
‘What is this?’
Yeonho was in the middle of getting into character when he was startled.
A semitransparent status window had suddenly appeared before his eyes.
[Would you like to turn on the skill, Bewitching Screen Presence (Lv. 1)?]
Screen presence. It was obviously a useful skill.
Even at a glance, the name gave off the unmistakable feeling of an upgrade to his on-screen appearance.
Yeonho called out *On* inwardly.