It would’ve been fine if things stopped there, but Soobeom couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“President, I’m sorry, but could you slow down a bit? As you know, I drank too much last night. Ugh.”
Yoon Sungwoo covered his mouth between words as if he were about to throw up.
“Hey, that Sungwoo guy? Sorry to say this when we just met, but how about shutting your mouth unless you want to die?”
The car went silent in an instant.
Just then, Ki Taehun changed the subject.
He didn’t want to get greedy, but the truth was—his own market value was practically the capital of Beom Actors.
Actually, from his second year as an actor, Lee Jaejun was already earning top-tier appearance fees.
People were desperate to sign with him, regardless of the price.
‘But now, this is Ki Taehun’s body.’
The public image from the filming site was good, and the talent he showed at the script reading was impressive.
Still, he was a rookie surrounded by controversy, originally known as a terrible idol actor.
He had to price himself honestly.
“Looking at the company’s current situation, President—how much do you think I should be getting paid?”
“Well, realistically, if you’re making 8 to 10 million won, that’s already really good. But of course, the more the better. Personally, I’d hope for 15 million won or more.”
It was Soobeom’s honest and realistic calculation.
Taehun nodded.
It wasn’t a huge amount considering he was playing the sub male lead, but it was still a major role in an ongoing 10-episode drama, where he was confirmed to appear in 8 episodes.
For Beom Actors, which hadn’t made any real money so far, it was like rain in a drought.
“So, around 15 million won would be fine?”
“Yeah. Though to be honest, that’s kind of a lot. Feels like a bit of a stretch, no?”
“I think it’s a fairly reasonable amount. If Byun Yoohyun had taken the role as originally planned, the appearance fee would’ve been way higher than expected. That means, by not choosing him, the production side saved money—and that gives us room to negotiate for more.”
Before Taehun could finish speaking, Yoon Sungwoo cut in.
“What? So you really are better than Byun Yoohyun? I thought that was just a rumor! I mean, I did think you had a change of heart when you were staring holes into the script on audition day, but I never imagined you actually had talent—”
“Sungwoo? Shh.”
“…Okay.”
***
Their car drove and drove, and it wasn’t until 4 p.m. that they finally arrived in Seoul.
President Oh spoke up.
“Alright, I’m actually going home this time.”
“Let’s head to Gyeongguk University.”
“What are you talking about?”
Even exhausted, President Oh’s voice was startled, and the dozing Yoon Sungwoo also perked up in surprise.
“You don’t have any filming today.”
“Oh, didn’t I mention? They suddenly added a shoot.”
“Then you should’ve taken a nap in the car earlier.”
“I couldn’t possibly sleep while the President’s driving and already tired.”
At that, Oh Soobeom silently looked over at Yoon Sungwoo.
The look in his eyes made Sungwoo shut his mouth again.
Taehun smiled and said, “Bringing Sungwoo hyung along was the priority, right? It’s the first day, after all.”
[Yoon Sungwoo is touched.]
“Actually, President, why don’t you take Sungwoo hyung to get some hangover soup? I heard there’s a famous spot nearby.”
“Hangover soup for a comeback party? I’m in!”
Yoon Sungwoo replied excitedly.
“Then let’s go, President! To Gyeongguk University! Let’s roll!”
President Oh shook his head and restarted the car.
***
Cherry blossoms were blooming at Gyeongguk University.
The wind was still chilly, so it wasn’t quite showering petals yet.
The weather hadn’t fully warmed up, but there was a gentle warmth that the season of spring brought on its own.
Looking rather worn out, Writer Go approached.
PD Choi greeted her warmly.
“Writer Go, what brings you here? You’ve seemed really busy lately. You didn’t even show up for the first shoot last time—I thought you might be sick.”
“Ah, today I came to see my—no, our actor Ki play Kyungjun.”
“You’ve waited a long time. But why do you look so tired? Haven’t you been getting any rest?”
“You don’t even know why I haven’t been sleeping.”
PD Choi shrugged, looking clueless.
“Don’t even get me started. I’m going crazy trying to rewrite the script to expand Kyungjun’s role.”
“Oh? So you’re revising the script?”
“Yeah. How should I say it… I want to inject some heartfelt tension into the youthful romance—something delicate and emotionally stirring.”
“Wow. These days, not just the staff but even the reporters, and now you too. Everyone’s going all out for this.”
And finally, the one and only Kyungjun—Ki Taehun—arrived.
“Hello. Sorry I’m a bit late.”
“Late? What are you talking about? You’re right on time. Oh, and Writer Go’s here too. She’s been dying to see you.”
Writer Go couldn’t hide her excitement and approached Taehun.
“Taehun! I’ve been really looking forward to today. Oh, but your face and everything… something about you looks different. You’re even better-looking now, don’t you think, Director?”
“Now that you mention it, his face really is glowing.”
‘I feel a little proud.’
“Ah, I’ve been working out lately. Gotta match Kyungjun’s image, right?”
‘Rebirth—such a rare reward.’
“Your posture is amazing. Seriously, whoever cast you has an incredible eye.”
“Well, wasn’t it a project between me and Writer Go?”
“Ah, I’ve taken up too much of your time. Go get ready.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
As Taehun turned to leave, he paused and looked at Writer Go.
“Oh, please call me before you leave. We need to talk about the contract—”
“Ah, I’ll explain later, Writer Go. Alright then. Ki-ssi, fighting today as always!”
Leaving the confused Writer Go behind with PD Choi, who was eager to explain, Taehun walked off.
“What contract? What are you talking about?”
“You know—he suddenly went from a minor role to the sub male lead. Of course his appearance fee should go up.”
“That makes sense. So how much were you planning on paying him?”
“For the sub lead? I was thinking around 15 million won. We originally had Byun Yoohyun in mind for the role, so we should probably offer a bit less than that.”
“I disagree.”
Writer Go firmly expressed her opinion.
“Hmm, I think he deserves more.”
“Technically, we could’ve corrected the casting on the script reading day since the script had already been changed, right? But we went ahead and finalized it with Ki Taehun.”
“I acknowledge Ki Taehun’s acting skills too. But when I brought up his name for final approval, there was a bit of hesitation from the higher-ups.”
“Then just let Ki Taehun do it however he wants. Give him everything he’s asking for.”
“Still, he’s just the sub male lead. Isn’t it too much to treat him like the main?”
“Normally, yes,” Writer Go replied with a knowing smile.
‘But what if the main character becomes Kyungjun instead?’
Taehun himself had no idea—he might actually become the lead.
***
Filming began.
This scene connected to the previous shoot, featuring the interaction between Yeonhee and Kyungjun.
There was no dialogue—only emotional expression.
Kyungjun sees Yeonhee descending the library stairs at sunset and falls for her.
Since there wasn’t much time to capture the right lighting, they scheduled the shoot for that day.
What made the scene particularly difficult was that it had been added after the previous scenes were already filmed, meaning Taehun had to act as if Yeonhee were there, even though she wasn’t.
He had to act as though he were falling in love the moment she appeared.
“Ready, action!”
Taehun—no, Kyungjun—was walking through campus when his gaze casually stopped.
He appeared to have seen something.
His lips parted slightly, and one corner of his mouth gently lifted.
‘Nice. Keep going.’
Director Choi immediately became immersed.
The camera zoomed in on Kyungjun’s face.
Slightly trembling pupils, lips slowly parting, breath released unconsciously after being held.
Even his blinking seemed slow.
‘It looks like it’s in slow motion, but it’s not a special effect.’
Time seemed to slow down naturally through his acting alone.
‘Was falling in love like this?’
Writer Go blushed while watching.
‘I thought this scene would be romantic, but this… this goes beyond anything I imagined.’
The staff watched, breathless. Every single expression from Kyungjun pulled them in.
They were so immersed, they forgot they were even on set.
When an actor is immersed, everyone else becomes immersed too.
“Cut! That was amazing!”
At Director Choi’s cheerful cue, the staff all let out the breaths they’d been holding.
Time, which had seemed to freeze, began flowing again.
Everyone except one person—Taehun.
“I’d like to try one more time, Director.”
Director Choi blinked.
“Ki Taehun… what else could you possibly add here…?”
Still, he nodded, trusting Taehun had something in mind.
Taehun went on to request three more takes after that.
Director Choi was satisfied with each attempt, but Taehun kept tilting his head and asking for another.
No one felt bothered by it.
In fact, they admired his passion.
‘It’s already great… but now I’m curious. How far can he take this toward perfection?’
***
Final attempt.
The atmosphere among the staff had grown solemn.
“Action!”
Just then, a gentle breeze blew toward Kyungjun.
Taehun, fully immersed again, became Kyungjun.
His fringe fluttered slightly.
His face flushed under the warm spring breeze.
Breath slowly released—he didn’t even realize he had been holding it.
A 3-second shot that felt like 10.
‘Time is slowing down.’
The staff watching had the same thought.
It brought back their own memories—those moments of falling in love.
The cut signal came after a long pause.
But the emotions stirred by that moment didn’t disappear so easily.
‘So this is it… Huh? We’ve got it! This one scene alone makes the entire drama a hit!’
Director Choi was confident in its success.
This performance followed instinct more than the script directions.
A typical actor might express “falling in love” by exaggerating facial muscles, relaxing the eyes, and slightly parting the lips.
‘But Ki Taehun is different. He’s the real deal.’
Even though the previous takes were already solid, Taehun had waited for the wind to blow just right.
Only after that spring breeze lifted Kyungjun’s hair did the scene feel complete.
‘He waited for the wind? That’s an actor’s instinct.’
Ki Taehun was like Lee Jaejun—an instinctive actor.
These actors don’t just think about acting.
They think about how every frame will appear to the viewer.
And yet, their gestures and movements remain completely natural.
Director Choi could feel sweat on his palms for the first time in ages.
[Even the production crew here looks like they’ve fallen for the performance.]
‘Really? That’s a relief. Seems like we got what we were aiming for.’
[At this rate, securing the contract should be easy.]
‘Come on, don’t say something that obvious like it’s news.’
***
Near Gyeongguk University, at a famous gukbap restaurant.
The weather was still chilly, and the place was packed with students.
After quite a wait, Oh Soobeom and Yoon Sungwoo finally found a table.
“Sir, can I order a plate of soondae?”
Soobeom was about to respond when his phone rang.
As Sungwoo started eating the gukbap that had arrived early, Soobeom took the call.
“Yeah. Oh, filming’s done already? Wait, what??”
Startled by the sudden rise in volume, Sungwoo flinched, then went back to eating.
“You signed the contract alone? I told you how important this was! But wait… Sacheon?”