Episode 9) #3. A Fateful Bond of Wind and Moon
[The Bewitching Screen Presence (Lv. 1) has been activated!]
[Your appearance on camera has been upgraded!]
[People will feel more positively toward your appearance on screen!]
‘Ooh! So it really is a good one!’
Though Yeonho inwardly cheered, he soon regained his composure. He had to act.
* * *
The camera zoomed in on Park Gyeonghwi. Ju Hyeonguk’s eyes wavered when he saw the image.
‘An innocent, untainted boy.’
Park Gyeonghwi’s boyhood, utterly at odds with the foreshadowing of tragedy, was being portrayed perfectly.
Kim Yo and Park Gyeonghwi stood side by side amid the ranks of the Hwarang, while the camera captured them in a level shot.
The two boys looked at each other and smiled faintly, then noticed a purple butterfly drifting through the air. There was no butterfly at the actual filming location, however. The two boys had to act while imagining the imaginary butterfly that would later be added through CGI.
Before long, Gyeonghwi’s gaze followed the butterfly.
He reached out his hand, but the butterfly flew away helplessly.
‘Oh, this kid’s pretty good.’
Director Ju had to swallow his admiration.
‘It’s as though the butterfly’s movements are being drawn with his eyes alone….’
The butterfly’s wings fluttered down for a moment before vanishing into the distant sky. Watching it, the boy murmured sadly.
“It flew away.”
Ju Hyeonguk’s throat tightened with emotion. He knew that this scene was foreshadowing the tragedy that would unfold in the latter half of the film.
‘Perfect. Perfect acting. And his screen presence isn’t bad for someone filming for the first time, either. That kid really knows how to find his angles.’
“Cut!”
Even at the call of “Cut,” Gyeonghwi closed his eyes and maintained his emotions.
“Gyeonghwi, good job! Perfect!”
At those words, Yeonho returned to his usual self.
Then he cast a sidelong glance at the translucent status window floating before him.
[The finest acting, with complete immersion!]
[Skill experience has increased significantly!]
[Bewitching Screen Presence (Lv. 1) experience has increased by 10%!]
Yeonho realized something.
When he delivered his finest performance, the experience of his activated skill, Bewitching Screen Presence, rose dramatically!
It seemed that ordinary acting would increase the experience by a moderate amount. That meant it was best to always work hard and act well.
That way, he would receive even more of the screen presence bonus.
“This scene is over for you. It was perfect, so there’s no need to shoot it again.”
Director Ju gave Yeonho a thumbs-up.
“Really?”
“Yeah! It was too perfect! But Kim Yo, what are you doing?”
The director’s sharp gaze shot toward Sihun. Clenching his teeth, Sihun hurriedly answered.
“I’m sorry.”
“The camera was rolling. Why couldn’t you concentrate? Was that supposed to be the look of someone chasing a butterfly?”
Director Ju called the two boy Hwarang over and had them check the footage. Since the camera had separately captured Gyeonghwi and Yo during the butterfly scene, they could at least salvage the footage Yeonho had shot.
“Look, Kim Yo. If you were the director, could you use this? You couldn’t, right?”
Though his body trembled with humiliation, Sihun had no choice but to nod.
“I-I’ll do it properly this time.”
Meanwhile, Yeonho watched the scene in disbelief.
‘He told me not to give a wooden performance, didn’t he? Yet he can’t act himself.’
Since Sihun had made such bold claims, Yeonho had assumed he must be an incredible actor.
Yeonho was about to say something to the boy—Song Sihun, or whatever his name was—but then folded his arms instead. Sihun had to film the butterfly scene alone again, and Yeonho felt that getting angry at him would be going too far.
Of course, Sihun had tried to throw off his condition, but Yeonho didn’t need to become the same sort of person, did he?
‘How good is he at acting to talk so much trash to other people?’
Narrowing his eyes, Yeonho watched Sihun’s filming.
* * *
Meanwhile, Sihun was gripped by the most intense nervousness he had ever experienced since birth. He had eyes, too—how could he have felt nothing after seeing Park Gyeonghwi on the screen? That acting ability was far too impressive to have come from a mere extra.
He had realized it at once. His opponent was a master of acting, and perhaps even…
‘H-He’s better than me? An extra?’
It was impossible. Who was he, after all?
He was child actor Song Sihun! He had been acting since he was seven, and yet this nameless nobody who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere was surpassing him at acting? No, what irritated him even more was the fact that although he was being beaten at acting, he was also utterly outclassed in appearance…
‘Aaaaaaargh!’
As he swallowed his rage, the veins on his forehead bulged.
“Yo! Why is your face getting so red? What’s with that expression? Can’t you get into character?”
At Director Ju’s shout, Song Sihun clenched both fists and swallowed his anger. Several other boy Hwarang stood behind him like background scenery, but Sihun paid them no mind as he muttered.
“Just some unknown nobody. Just some unknown nobody. Just some unknown nobody.”
Reciting the words in a low voice as though chanting a spell, he felt his self-esteem recover, if only slightly. One of the Hwarang standing behind him like a backdrop frowned and whispered to the person beside him.
“He’s weird.”
“Is he a lunatic?”
* * *
After no fewer than sixteen NGs, Sihun’s solo filming finally ended. In the process, his pride as an actor who had been performing since the age of seven was utterly destroyed. Even the scene that had barely received an okay was openly grumbled about by Director Ju Hyeonguk, who said he didn’t like it.
Above all, the wary looks from the staff and even the manager’s awkward smile seemed to say, You’re no match for Do Yeonho.
That was what made the high-schooler’s eyes burn with fury.
This time, they moved locations and filmed on a stone footbridge.
“Gyeonghwi! Yo! In this scene, you two need to look warmly at each other.”
This scene was extremely brief. They said it would appear in the film for less than a minute.
Kim Yo would stand on the stone bridge, while Gyeonghwi would stand beneath it. The scene hinted at the futures awaiting Kim Yo, who would one day become king, and Park Gyeonghwi, who would become a subject serving his close friend. That was why Yo had to look down at Gyeonghwi from the bridge.
‘I’m supposed to look up at Yo.’
Yeonho took his place beneath the stone bridge without being told.
‘I have to discover my friend on the bridge and smile brightly.’
The assistant director approached Yeonho and coordinated with the cinematographer to determine the proper angle for his body and face, then relayed the instructions to him.
“Okay, stand by!”
As the busy staff all moved behind the camera, Yeonho tossed another piece of raw chocolate into his mouth.
Watching the scene from atop the stone bridge, Sihun ground his teeth and pondered.
‘What should I say to rile him up?’
There was nothing suitable to attack him over. What kind of unknown nobody was this? There wasn’t even anything to criticize. How could a person have not a single opening?
‘Damn it!’
Left with no choice, Sihun blurted out something absurd. It was the Eat Anything strategy.
“What are you, an elementary schooler? You keep stuffing your face with chocolate.”
Yeonho looked up at him impassively, wearing an expression that seemed to say he found him utterly pathetic.
“What does it matter to you what I eat?”
“You little—”
He was furious. Even he thought this was an incredibly childish provocation. Who would get angry over something like this? He had simply thrown out whatever came to mind because he thought he needed to break Yeonho’s concentration before filming.
“Shoot!”
The assistant director dropped the slate, followed by the call of “Action!”
“Yo! Yo!”
At Gyeonghwi’s call, Yo’s gaze fell beneath the stone bridge. Gyeonghwi looked up at his friend and smiled brightly, while Yo—
“Cut! Cut!”
The angry calls of “Cut!” echoed across the outdoors. Even the staff watching the filming, along with Sihun’s manager, shook their heads in dismay. His acting was simply dreadful.
“Kim Yo, don’t you know this is the scene where you’re supposed to smile brightly? Why are you smiling like that? You look like an angry person forcing himself to smile. What has been wrong with you since earlier? You’ve been acting for ten years—why are you like this? Are you worse at acting than an extra who prepared for a few hours?”
Sihun already felt as though his insides were about to burst, even without anyone provoking him. Hearing the director point it out so precisely made his face turn red again. It was even worse because he had heard rumors that, despite his long career, his acting was nothing special.
“Are you getting angry at me right now?”
“N-No, it’s not like that.”
“If you’re angry, then do it properly. Do it properly and make it so no one can say anything. I won’t tolerate a hole in my film even if it’s a child-actor scene. Don’t let your acting ruin it.”
After being thoroughly scolded, Sihun bit his lip and nodded. Then he stealthily glared down at the high-schooler beneath the stone bridge. Gyeonghwi was simply keeping his eyes closed and maintaining his immersion.
‘What is with him? Does he think he’s actually become Gyeonghwi? Who does he think he is? Does he think he’s some kind of actor? He’s just an extra, yet he’s putting on airs. Seriously.’
A derisive laugh escaped him, and his anger boiled over. That emotional turmoil caused another NG in the next take.
“Kim Yo! You’re supposed to smile happily. Is that how rudely you smile when you meet a friend?”
“I’m sorry.”
At some point, cold sweat began to trickle down Sihun’s forehead. Gyeonghwi, however, showed no sign of struggling in the slightest. He merely closed his eyes and concentrated in silence. The unknown nobody was delivering his finest performance without the slightest wavering, while he himself was a complete mess because he couldn’t control his emotions.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!’
His eyes were already large, and opening them wide made him look especially fierce.
“Hey! Isn’t this happening because you’re holding on to your emotions like that? Are you not going to do it properly?”
Director Ju finally exploded, and a roar comparable to a lion’s bellow burst from his mouth. Though Sihun had no manners, he knew how this industry worked, so he didn’t mutter any vulgarities in response to the director.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get my emotions under control and do it again.”
After many twists and turns, they finally managed to get a satisfactory take of the stone bridge scene after nine cuts.
[Passable acting!]
[Skill experience has increased moderately!]
[Bewitching Screen Presence (Lv. 1) experience has increased by 0.5%!]
The experience gain from passable acting was atrociously low.
* * *
“Wow, he’s really handsome.”
After filming ended, during the monitoring session, a female staff member let out an involuntary exclamation. She hadn’t specified whom she was referring to, but it was obvious. Thus, Sihun had to grit his teeth and stare at his own image on the camera screen.
“Gyeonghwi’s smile is worth ten million dollars. He really looks like a Hwarang. Good job.”
Director Ju gave him a thumbs-up.
“They said this was your first time getting camera treatment, right?”
“This definitely isn’t the skill of someone filming for the first time.”
“Are you really unaffiliated with any agency?”
“He’s incredible in person, but he looks great on screen, too.”
“Your name is Do Yeonho, right? I should remember that. Aren’t you going to grow up and become a huge star someday?”
With all the staff’s attention focused on him, Yeonho scratched his cheek shyly.
“Thank you.”
Teacher Shin, who was dressed as a true-bone aristocrat, also gave him an enthusiastic round of applause.
“Son, you did well! Your father was cheering you on from afar.”
Shin Juwon played Park Yegyeom, Park Gyeonghwi’s father. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single scene with Park Yegyeom during Park Gyeonghwi’s adolescent years, so they couldn’t act together.
“Come on, time to move.”
The FD and the unit manager gathered the various extras, and the staff and actors began walking to the next filming location.
“Sihun, at least drink some water.”
His manager handed him a bottle of water, but Sihun casually slapped her wrist away.
“Forget it. Where’s my coffee?”
“Ah, we’re out of coffee…”
“What? There was one left earlier.”
“I drank it. You were already on your fifth can of coffee today, so I thought you wouldn’t have any more.”
At her forced smile, Sihun threw whatever manners he had left out the window.
“Oh, come on, Noona, what’s wrong with you? Why did you drink that? I’m the one doing the work. You just stand around and still eat and drink everything.”
“Sihun, I only drank one canned coffee, and you’re seriously—”
She bit her lips gently, seemingly barely managing to swallow her words. Perhaps if he hadn’t been a minor, she wouldn’t have held back so bitterly.
“Was I just sitting around doing nothing? I’ve been taking care of you, keeping up with your schedule, and even driving. Being a manager isn’t playing house. You know that perfectly well, Sihun.”
“What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to make a big deal out of what you do for me?”
“I’m not making a big deal out of anything. I’m saying I’m working too. You’re not the only one working here.”
“I’m already in a terrible mood today, and my manager is acting like this before filming.”
“What? Ha…”
A deep sigh escaped her lips.
“Song Sihun, do you think I want to act like this with you? Don’t you think you were the one who started talking to me that way?”
“Didn’t you know I’m always like this? And I told you, I’m in a terrible mood today. Seriously. Should I tell my dad? Tell him how you’re treating me right now?”
“Fine, do whatever you want. I don’t know anymore, either. I’ve done all I can, and I’m tired.”
“That’s what I should be saying!”
Even with that sarcastic addition, Song Sihun was far too vicious and ill-mannered for a seventeen-year-old.
Yeonho happened to witness the scene as he walked by and shook his head.
‘What’s with him? His personality is completely messed up.’
Was this the so-called star sickness he had heard about? But calling it star sickness seemed excessive when Sihun was merely some kid whose name and face no one even knew.
‘What does he have to be so full of himself about?’
The more Yeonho thought about it, the more absurd the boy seemed.
‘I should focus on my acting.’
The next scene featured not only Song Sihun but also Rijin, the child actress playing the female lead. Yeonho had never seen Rijin before, and for some reason, his heart began to flutter.
‘The girl playing Rijin must be incredibly pretty, right?’
On the other hand, he worried that the actress playing Rijin might be as ill-mannered as Song Sihun. Since the first celebrity he had met was like this, he had begun to develop a negative preconception about celebrities.
But he soon shook his head. It didn’t seem right to judge someone before even meeting them.
“Wow!”
“She’s really pretty.”
As they walked toward another set, exclamations came from the vicinity of a parking lot in the distance. Hearing the voices, Yeonho naturally turned his gaze in that direction.
Amid a group of people stood a single girl.
She wore garments splendidly harmonized in pink and purple, but even they paled beside the dazzling radiance of the girl herself.
“Oh! That’s…!”
In an instant, Yeonho’s eyes filled with astonishment.