Chapter 25: Ready to Soar (2)
“What?” Kim Si-woo replied, startled by Kim Ji-hyun’s outburst.
- You’re happy I’m getting trashed, huh? Admit it!
She continued, her voice sharp.
‘Trashed? What’s she talking about?’
Kim Si-woo sat up and powered on his computer. As it booted, Kim Ji-hyun kept rambling, her words slightly slurred.
‘Is she drunk?’
Her speech was off, but asking a drunk person if they’re drunk was a bad move. Cautiously, he tested the waters.
“Uh… have you been drinking?”
- Yeah, I’m pissed off, so I drank! Can’t I?
“Uh… sure.”
Memories of college friends acting the same way flooded back.
‘Some people get like this when they’re drunk… Whatever.’
Once the computer loaded, he searched her name and found articles about her acting controversy.
‘Oof… What happened? I’ll check it out at the set tomorrow. First, I need to get her to sleep.’
“Ji-hyun,” he said.
- What?!
“Look, I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow. Can we talk then?”
- Hic… Waaah!
Suddenly, she started sobbing.
“Uh… uh…”
Kim Si-woo stammered, at a loss.
- I’m always the one calling first… You only hang out with Ji-young sunbae… You didn’t cast me in your film… I’m a good actor too… I’m popular now!
She poured out her pent-up frustrations. ‘Is she jealous? Nah, why would she be? She’s plenty popular.’
He figured she was just drunk and picked him as an easy target to vent to. Every time he tried to end the call, she cried harder. Her tears seemed endless, and Kim Si-woo ended up humoring her drunken rant all night.
***
As expected, Shim Ji-young showed up early the next morning.
“Knew you’d come. Good thing I showered,” he said.
“You’re prepared today? Let’s go,” she replied.
“Sure.”
Surprised by his compliance, Shim Ji-young noted, “You look tired.”
“Didn’t sleep much,” he admitted.
“Why?”
He couldn’t mention Kim Ji-hyun’s drunken call, so he blamed it on writing.
“Just tired from writing.”
“You’re something else. That’s why you’re a writer.”
“You look better today, noona. Director’s advice help?”
Since Park Woong-deok’s talk, Shim Ji-young seemed lighter, her anxiety eased.
“He’s right. I picked most of these people—they’re pros. Know how long the lighting team’s youngest has been at it?”
“No clue. He looks younger than me.”
“Exactly. He’s 23, started at 17 doing grunt work. Eight years of experience. He’s off to the military after this.”
Park’s claim that everyone here was a pro was no exaggeration.
“Worrying about lighting when I don’t know it is pointless. I should focus on acting,” she said.
At the set, the crew was already bustling.
“Good morning!” Shim Ji-young greeted everyone, warming the atmosphere—until Park Woong-deok appeared, freezing it.
“Maybe the director’s the real villain,” Kim Si-woo whispered.
“Villain?” she asked.
“Look, everyone scatters when he shows up.”
“It’s my aura. A master director’s presence can’t be hidden,” Park boasted.
“Yeah, that bulk and scary face are hard to miss,” Kim Si-woo quipped.
Park grabbed his neck playfully. “Getting bold after two meetings, huh? You’re in for special training today.”
“What? I brought my laptop to write in a corner…”
Regretting his jab, Kim Si-woo learned Park’s “special training” was just staring at the monitor.
“Director,” he said.
“What?”
“I might need to skip tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s light shooting. Fine. But show up when I call.”
“Uh… I’ll think about it.”
Park’s smile suggested he’d drag Kim Si-woo back if he didn’t. Watching Shim Ji-young act, Kim Si-woo noted, “She’s even better today. Will you reshoot yesterday’s scenes?”
“I’d love to, but it’s not practical,” Park said. “That’s why we’re here—editing and visuals will smooth it out.”
“Good to know.”
The final scene of the day was Han Ye-ri (Shim Ji-young) sobbing over her daughter’s photo. It was physically and emotionally draining, requiring recovery time and redoing makeup due to swollen eyes, so such scenes were often saved for last.
“Action!”
At Park’s call, Shim Ji-young lay in bed, clutching the photo, and wailed. The set fell silent, her cries echoing. Her raw emotion moved the crew, some tearing up, others biting their lips to avoid interfering with the audio.
“Cut!”
Though brief, the sobbing scene felt eternal. Some crew members, reminded of their own children, sat down in tears, while Shim Ji-young struggled to rein in her emotions, tears still streaming.
“Great work, everyone! Tomorrow’s schedule is in the group chat,”
Park Woong-deok announced, deftly shifting the mood before leaving. The crew swiftly began packing up—quitting time trumped sentiment.
Ending at 3 p.m. was a rare treat, like an early dismissal.
“These veterans wrap things up fast. Gotta get home and play with my daughter,” a staff member said.
Most agreed this set was smoother than others. Park Woong-deok despised inefficiency, and the actors’ sharp focus kept things flowing. Barring major disruptions, the shoot would stay this smooth.
***
Meanwhile, at her drama set, Kim Ji-hyun fidgeted anxiously.
“Ji-hyun, you okay?” her manager asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied, forcing a smile.
That morning, she’d woken to a six-hour call log with Kim Si-woo and kicked her blanket in frustration. *What did I say last night?!*
Worse, she couldn’t remember anything after getting drunk. ‘I need to quit drinking… Ugh!’
Her phone buzzed.
[Where’s tomorrow’s shoot?]
It was Kim Si-woo. She braced herself, unsure why he was asking.
“Manager,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Where’s tomorrow’s shoot?”
After getting the address, she texted back: [Goyang-si, XX-ro, XX-gil, Gyeonggi-do.]
Three seconds later: [Cool, see you tomorrow.]
‘What? He’s actually coming? Can I trust this?’
Doubting but curious, she went through her day. To her shock, Kim Si-woo showed up at the set.
“Ji-hyun,” he called.
“Why are you here?” she asked coldly.
He looked confused, as if she’d summoned him. ‘Did I tell him to come? No way, even drunk… What did I say?!’
She inwardly cursed her past self, wishing she could throttle drunk Kim Ji-hyun.
“You don’t… remember?” Kim Si-woo asked.
“No! I remember everything! I just didn’t think you’d actually show!” she snapped, flustered.
He explained, “I’m here to see what’s going wrong. Just act as usual, don’t mind me.”
“Okay…”
Following his advice, she resumed shooting, but his presence made her nervous, leading to repeated NGs.
“Hold on! Ji-hyun, what’s up today? Nervous?” the director asked.
“Sorry, sorry,” she apologized.
“Let’s take a break, everyone.”
- Yes!
Her mistakes halted filming, and she slunk back to her manager, shoulders slumped.
“Sigh…”
“Ji-hyun,” Kim Si-woo said, approaching.
She was mortified. She’d thought she was on top of the world, but her arrogance had crashed. Worst of all, she was flopping in front of Kim Si-woo. Feeling inferior, she lashed out.
“What? Happy to see me fail in person? You acted all nice when you cast me as Revenger’s lead, but now that it’s a hit, you think I’m a joke for rejecting your cameo and bombing in this drama? Feeling smug watching me mess up?”
Kim Si-woo quickly calmed her. “That’s not it. Chill and drink this.”
He handed her a lukewarm honey water, somehow procured. Snatching it, she opened it and drank.
“And you need to tweak your delivery a bit,” he added.
Seeing his serious expression, she focused, sipping the honey water. “How?”
“Follow my lead.”
Clearing his throat, he spoke in a high-pitched tone: “Oh, wow! Ji-hyun, eat this and cheer up!”