The director suddenly recalled words from his college days, spoken by his professor.
What do you think is the prerequisite for a work that moves people to tears?
A flurry of answers poured in. Strong storytelling, pure love, emotional expression, the author's intent, and so on.
But the professor's response had been unexpected.
All those things have merit, but they only work when they're in 'harmony.' Especially in the visual arts we're pursuing, that's crucial. No matter how brilliantly an actor performs, if it doesn't sync with the direction, will it reach the audience? And if the direction is spot-on but the actors can't gel together?
It might leave an impression, but it won't touch their hearts.
Remembering those words, the director couldn't tear his eyes from the monitor.
Moo-young was delivering top-tier acting, unbelievable for a rookie. But whenever he shared a frame with Enbin...
"What happened?"
"Nothing much. That's what makes it so tough."
The energy deflated. Or more precisely, it felt like he was propping up Enbin. The explosive presence that had been bursting forth now held back, not devouring his co-star but making him shine instead.
What do you even call that?
Honestly, Enbin's acting wasn't that great. He'd improved since the reading, but there were still plenty of rough edges.
Alone, he'd be passable.
But put him next to someone solid, and the flaws stood out. Especially against a strong counterpart—and Moo-young was different. In shared shots, something uncanny happened...
"Yeah. Uncanny."
"You felt it too, Director?"
"Weird. Can't quite pin it down..."
"Maybe 'cause Enbin and Moo-young are buddies? He seems way more relaxed than solo. Changes the vibe, right?"
He was dialing back his own energy to match his co-star's frequency, clearly delineating the line between lead and supporting role.
"Whoa!"
The director stared through the viewfinder, speechless. He'd worked with countless actors and aspiring talents, but this was a first. A talent straight out of legend.
"Redo just Moo-young's part."
"Got it."
He'd support the lead, then snap into beast mode for his solo close-up—like devouring the camera itself. Eyes drawing in the invisible audience beyond the lens.
"Damn, Moo-young. Great expression. Hold back the tears there—go more subdued."
"Yes, sir."
He never brushed off direction. His control over presence and aura—dialing it up or down—was borderline insane. No wonder the staff kept calling it eerie.
The director fiddled with his script, chuckling to himself.
If this pans out, I might be the guy who shot a future megastar's debut.
Future bragging rights or bar anecdote—who knew? Either way, it'd be unforgettable for him.
"Director? You okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. He's killing it."
Moo-young straightened his clothes and flashed a bright smile. Then he leaned toward Enbin across from him and whispered,
"Hear that? They say we're amazing."
"You weren't that over-the-top."
"But Bin, that line earlier—"
"Which part?"
"When you hand over the broth and say to slurp it up."
They chattered like best pals. Did Enbin even realize he'd survived without being overshadowed? Probably lacked the chops to notice.
"Your cutoff there felt off. If reaching out's awkward, want me to take it instead?"
Not only that—Moo-young was fine-tuning the details, elevating his performance. Post-edit, Enbin would get rave comments about his growth.
"Hey, Moo-young."
"Yeah?"
The director couldn't hold back his curiosity.
Acting prodigy and handsome. Why'd he only show up now? People must've been clamoring for him.
"How long you been at this?"
"Hmm. Three, four months maybe."
"Acting academy?"
Moo-young's eyes lit up like he'd been waiting for it.
"Yep! BV Acting Academy!"
"BV? Big name?"
"Haha, nah. But small classes, elite training—they're awesome teachers. Director's super passionate. Oh, no money, but plenty of respect."
Moo-young plugged BV loud and proud. He'd vowed to repay the favor over grilled meat, after all.
Enbin, munching tteokbokki, chimed in.
"Anyone famous from there?"
"Grad? Me."
"Just you?"
"One kid's debuting in an MBV drama. Kang Bora."
So he had gone to academy. The director cut in,
"Did they teach you stuff like that there?"
"Like what?"
"Y'know, syncing with co-stars. Breathing together."
Couldn't say "presence control" outright—not with Enbin gawking mid-chew.
Moo-young pondered, then shook his head.
"Nah, not really... You learn breathing separately?"
If they do, gotta tell the director, he thought.
But the director waved it off.
"Nah, just saying—the chemistry's killer."
Not something you could learn. Innate gift.
Genius.
Moo-young beamed at the praise. Whales dance for less.
Enbin had no reason to refuse either.
"Director, that line where I hand over the broth?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"Can we redo? Moo-young takes it."
He'd faked diligence for their deal, but somewhere along the line, it turned real. The great set vibe had rubbed off.
"Feels awkward standing."
"Go comfy."
Enbin's effort fired up the Square Film staff and crew. Ideas flew for better shots.
"Alright, rolling again!"
Nearly wrapped—the AD signaled resumption. Moo-young and Enbin locked eyes, focusing.
Main lights on, everything else dark.
[#36. Inside the Pochah]Jeong-su, tired of the student's complaints, rustles a bag and pulls out spicy chicken ramen and sikhye.
*PPL product placement.*
She winks lightly at the baffled student.
"Stress? Nothing beats spicy."
"You giving me that?"
"You wanted grown-up food. No biggie—flour and heat. Oh, booze helps, but first night open? Can't risk closing."
Enbin starts prepping the fire chicken tteokbokki. Moo-young watches blankly, swallowing hard.
"Half-boiled egg. And tuna too."
Overlay whoosh later.
Noodle mix sounds?
Bowl close-up!
Like in the drama, real night dragged late. Moo-young smiled at the food before him—impossibly natural, real or acting?
"Thanks for the meal."
He gently loosens the noodles with chopsticks, soaking them in sauce. The moist half-boiled egg was perfection. He grabs it whole, mouth agape—
Slurrrp! Classic face-stuffing!
Moo-young's delighted munching filled the quiet set. A staffer whispered to the director,
Director, he can't eat it all like that.
Needed multi-angles... But he ate so blissfully, director couldn't cut.
That's why mukbangs hook you. Pure joy watching.
Long take it is.
Enbin, the pochah owner, grinned watching Moo-young. Two-to-three minutes max—not long overall, but his eating was too good to chop.
Halfway through—
"Sss—ha! Ugh! So spicy!"
Moo-young stuck out his burning tongue, writhing. Enbin ad-libbed instinctively,
"Feel the stress melting?"
Like a real pochah boss. Moo-young downed the sikhye in one go, wiping teary eyes.
Tears from spice or pain? Unclear gaze. But that smile—crystal.
"Cleared right out."
"Okay—cut!"
Moo-young kept flicking his tongue post-cut. Staff burst laughing.
"Director, using that take?"
The AD checked footage.
"Looks good? Safety shots—left/right, ramen close-up. Fake the second eat or he'll die. Decide in edit. PPL, so long's fine..."
Moo-young gulped sikhye, sniffling.
"This is way spicier than usual?"
"Uh, yeah. Tteokbokki base is hot."
"You ate fine!"
"I handle spice."
"Uwaaa!"
Moo-young stomped and dashed around set. Staff let him, shooting food prep and PPL extras.
Later—
"Moo-young—!"
"Yeees!"
Sauce-smeared lips, tear-streaked makeup. Touch-up in the corner, he shot his hand up.
Sane now.
"Final scene!"
"Yessir! Let's gooo!"
Clock hit 2 a.m. Shoot started at 10 a.m.—finally nearing end.
"Thanks for the grub."
"Good?"
"Yeah. Amazing, boss."
Moo-young, refreshed, thanked Enbin. Strong strides to alley's end.
Out of set. Director bellowed,
"Okaay—cut!"
"Great work!"
"Whew, tough one!"
"Enbin, nice job!"
Applause and warm wrap. Enbin untied apron, approached Moo-young.
"Ha Moo-young."
"Whoa! Done! Sweet sleep."
Moo-young's solo flashback remained—school scene. But paired stuff with Enbin? Wrapped today.
"Good work."
"You too."
"Don't forget our deal."
"Duh. Keep crushing shoots."
When Hanbam Pochah Episode 1 dropped, he'd spill the stalker chat. Two weeks maybe.
Enbin hesitated, then offered a hand.
"Food?"
Bittersweet. He stayed; Moo-young left. First character he'd bonded with in ages.
"Sure. Your treat?"
"Damn."
"Haha! Rich guy's buy!"
Moo-young grabbed his hand. First celeb buddy! First shoot done!
Team lead waved from afar, white envelope in hand.
First paycheck!
"Woohoo—!"
Moo-young bounced over, joy uncontained.
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Read 165 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
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