“Anyway, I thought it was good. Really.”
Director Choi Young-hwan finished speaking with a shy smile. I mulled over his words, nervously fiddling with the document envelope in my hands.
‘Still, it meant something…’
Since my acting skills were severely limited, I hadn’t really expected much.
I figured I might get some positive feedback about my earnest attitude, but it was unlikely I’d hear any praise for my acting.
‘Honestly, my skills weren’t even good enough to get reviews.’
It was natural, so I wasn’t disappointed. But…
‘It’s not bad.’
Really, it wasn’t bad at all.
“Thank you. Truly.”
I bowed slightly toward him.
“Haha. Why are you looking so serious, like you’ll never see me again?”
Trying to lighten the mood, he chuckled openly, and I laughed along with him.
“Maybe I was too nervous. Yes, I hope we can meet again.”
And just as Director Choi had said, a few days later we gathered once more.
After the drama wrapped up filming, we had a group dinner at a Korean Barbecue Restaurant we’d rented out entirely, which was packed with people.
The wrap-up party was scheduled for the day the last episode aired, so today was just a simple company dinner.
I was seated at a table with Seo Sang-woo and Lee Choi.
“Hyung! How’ve you been?”
Through the sizzling smell of meat grilling and the deafening noise, I heard Seo Sang-woo’s voice.
‘Looks like the “hyung” title has completely stuck.’
I didn’t bother correcting him, so now Seo Sang-woo called me “hyung” without hesitation.
He smiled brightly and warmly called me “hyung” as if we’d known each other for years.
“So-so… I’ve been okay.”
I thought it might be strange to ask after only a few days apart.
“After filming ended, I felt really empty. I even dreamed about going back to the set.”
“Really?”
I nodded, giving a short reply.
Sang-woo seemed to have very fond memories of this drama shoot.
Well, for a first experience, it was a great environment. The director didn’t criticize or rush us but encouraged us to try one more time. The staff shared that attitude too.
This relative ease on set was partly because the drama was mostly pre-produced.
“How about you? How have you been?”
I stopped just as I was about to take a sip of water. How had I spent my time?
‘I just slept.’
I really had slept like the dead for three days. I usually slept a lot after finishing filming, but this time it was longer.
No matter how hard I tried not to, I’d close my eyes and suddenly a whole day would have passed.
“I tried contacting you, but you didn’t reply.”
“Ah…”
Yeah. I had messages—one a day. Even though the texts were short, it was obvious from how hesitant I was to send them that I was struggling.
Seeing that, I instinctively knew that if Sang-woo and I were even a bit closer, he’d have called me nonstop, not just bombarded me with texts.
“I was sleeping.”
“Sleeping?”
He widened his eyes, clearly surprised by my answer.
“Yeah. I really slept the whole time. It wasn’t that I ignored you on purpose.”
I added that without thinking. Sang-woo smiled broadly, clearly amused by something. For a moment, I imagined a tail wagging behind him.
“Me too! Actually, after filming, I think I was out cold for half a day. I was so tired.”
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.’
No, the filming’s over. It’s better not to create unnecessary misunderstandings even if we’re drifting apart.
Sang-woo chatted animatedly about this and that.
I responded casually, finishing my drink when Lee Choi, who had stepped away briefly, returned. The dinner was just getting started.
Director Choi Young-hwan was the first to grab the microphone.
Though filming was done, he still had editing and other tasks ahead, so he looked as tired as he had on set.
Despite the fatigue, he spoke briefly and clearly before handing the mic to Shin Wooree, the writer.
“Everyone worked really hard. Thanks to all your efforts, we were able to create a great work. It was truly an enjoyable time.”
Next up was the original creator of the webtoon , who had stopped by once on set.
Her face was flushed as she expressed her gratitude.
Then the microphone came to me.
Gripping it, I stood up. The eyes of many people gathered at the Korean Barbecue Restaurant focused solely on me.
Some held chopsticks in one hand; others’ cheeks were already flushed from the drinks.
Faces of every kind, each with a different expression, but oddly enough, their gaze toward me shared the same hue.
A mix of mild fondness and camaraderie.
“…….”
Feeling a sudden rush of emotion, I unconsciously held my breath for a moment.
Director Choi had shown me considerable goodwill, so there were no staff openly hostile toward me on set. But…
I certainly couldn’t say their gazes were kind.
For most of the first half, many staff looked at me with suspicion, doubt, and a little dissatisfaction.
I thought that was natural. It wasn’t hard to endure those looks. So why did I feel this way now?
‘…Don’t overthink it.’
I cut off my feelings appropriately and smiled toward them.
“Whoa, so handsome.”
At that moment, a loud exclamation came from somewhere, and laughter burst out all around.
Out of habit, I bowed slightly.
“Thank you.”
“Wow! Really handsome!”
“Ji-hwa, congratulations on being handsome!”
The words came flooding out like they’d been waiting to be said, and my face heated up.
I had no idea why I felt this way about someone else’s face, but my chest tingled for no reason.
“Thank you. Really, thank you.”
Director Choi laughed heartily, amused by my reaction. His laughter sparked a wave of laughter throughout the Korean Barbecue Restaurant.
After the atmosphere settled somewhat, I brought the microphone back to my lips.
Opening my mouth, my lips that had been pressed together parted, and my voice echoed through the mic.
“Uh…”
I had known this moment would come and had mentally prepared what to say. Yet somehow, no words came out.
I’d been through moments like this countless times before, but it felt as if I were a rookie actor.
“Thank you all for looking at me warmly—as an actor, as a colleague. I enjoyed the filming.”
My words came out awkward and disjointed.
I should have spoken like Yoo Chaemin. As I handed the microphone back and sat down, that thought crossed my mind. I felt uneasy, like my original self had slipped out unintentionally.
‘It was enjoyable.’
That usual phrase kept lingering in my ears strangely.
I stopped the needless thoughts and focused on Seo Sang-woo.
Thanks to him bursting into tears mid-speech, I was able to forget that odd discomfort.
Even though quite some time had passed, the lively atmosphere showed no signs of fading.
I moved around the room, chatting with various people, then carefully slipped out of the Korean Barbecue Restaurant.
Passing through the shopping complex corridor, I stepped outside through the back door, where a chilly breeze brushed against my cheek.
“Phew…”
The cold air seemed to sober me up a little. The light-headed feeling I’d had slowly settled.
‘Yoo Chaemin’s body might be a bit weak with alcohol.’
I wasn’t really sensitive to alcohol. Besides, I drank moderately, just in case. Still, I felt drunk—maybe because it wasn’t my own body.
The back door led to an open parking lot.
I crouched by the door, then moved to a bench placed in the lot.
Glancing up at the sky, I saw faint points of light—likely satellites—twinkling against the deep black.
‘This is just the first step.’
I had run quite fast, yet I’d only completed the very first button.
Thinking that way made the path ahead feel endless.
‘Make Yoo Chaemin a recognized actor.’
How many more projects would it take?
Is there really no way other than working madly to earn lots of career points and raise my rank?
How long will it take to complete the goals the company set?
Unanswerable questions flashed rapidly through my mind.
I lifted my gaze, which had been lowered.
The dazzling neon signs blurred on the asphalt, and the tightly packed cars filled my sight.
At that moment, the scent of grilled meat and the chilly air against my cheek felt vivid and real.
“…….”
I suddenly felt alive. Uncomfortably intense.
I stood up quickly. I hadn’t come out to feel this way—I just wanted to sober up.
As I turned back toward the Korean Barbecue Restaurant, I bumped into Seo Sang-woo in the corridor.
His face was flushed, likely from drinking.
“Chaemin hyung?”
‘No, that can’t be.’
His pronunciation was fine, and looking at his eyes, they were clear.
Maybe he just tends to blush easily.
It could come in handy when people want to get him drunk for no reason.
“Ah, I just came out to get some cold air.”
“Really?”
Sang-woo smiled somewhat foolishly in response.
‘…Maybe.’
Is he drunk? I should get him to sit down somewhere quickly.
“Where were you headed, Sang-woo?”
I asked, hoping to send him on his way, but he didn’t answer.
He just stared at me quietly, and soon his eyes became moist.
I hoped I was mistaken, but I wasn’t.
“Uh, Sang-woo?”
“Hyung.”
Oh, why did he call me with such a heavy voice?
I looked around for someone to help, but unfortunately, it was just the two of us in the corridor.
“Sang-woo, I think you’re drunk…”
“I’m really sorry.”
No, this wasn’t from drinking.
For a moment, I must have shown what I was thinking on my face, because Sang-woo’s expression changed.
Was he trying to hold back a laugh or tears? He cleared his throat a few times.
“I’m not drunk. I just… wanted to say this properly one more time but never had the chance…”
“Don’t dwell on what happened. You apologized, and I’ve already forgotten about it.”
I spoke slowly so he could understand clearly. Just as I thought that would be enough, Sang-woo furrowed his brow.
“Really?”
“Yes. Truly.”
Though he seemed to hear me clearly, Sang-woo’s face still looked unsettled.
“Sang-woo?”
“Then why do you keep putting distance between us?”
“……”
“……”
“…What?”