At the exact moment the web drama was uploaded to the City of Seoul's YouTube channel, Moo-young trudged up the dormitory stairs with weary steps.
It had been nearly two weeks since the semester started, and he was only just now making it back.
I've really been living flat out, he thought.
A week filming. Another week glued to Enbin's side. At this rate, his scholarship might slip away. Would he have to take a leave of absence then?
Click.
The door handle to Room 501 turned as limply as Moo-young's shoulders. But the noise spilling through the crack was utter chaos.
"No way! It's N30!"
"Ammo's low. Wanna grab food?"
"You're insane. Magnetic field's coming—what the hell! Ahh! I got hit!"
"Help! Help! Headshot!"
Three guys hunched over their laptops at their desks, deep in a game. They hadn't even noticed Moo-young come in.
He debated saying hello, then spotted the junk piled on his desk.
What's this?
Major textbooks mixed with all sorts of papers. Moo-young tilted his head and inspected the desk.
Oh, right. Dorm welcome stuff. Nice.
Basic soap, toothbrush, and the like. His roommates must have picked it up for him since he was gone. And apparently, they'd been using his empty desk as extra space in the meantime.
"Hello?"
Their eyes were glued to their screens, headsets blasting explosive sounds that swallowed his greeting. From their faces, it looked like they were in the final stretch. Intense, laser-focused.
"If we lose this, we delete our IDs."
"Obviously."
"Kill 'em allll!"
Better not disturb them, Moo-young thought. He sat in his chair, tapping his foot idly.
That's when a bundle of papers on his desk caught his eye.
Dohran Original Play: Human Home Shopping
Dohran—the theater club he'd seen at orientation, right? While waiting for his roommates to notice him, Moo-young flipped through the pages.
Still feels like a synopsis. But why's it so thick?
— Play Synopsis —A reclusive middle-aged woman who's barely left her house in ten years. Her family vanished one day. Her only joy? Home shopping. Just wiggle a finger from her comfy spot, and the world delivers to her door. How convenient! Boxes pile up unopened—she's bought everything there is to buy.
Then one day, a strange channel airs a home shopping show that... sells people?
The "products" were a young man and woman, plus an elderly couple—four in total. Chunks were missing here and there, but a spoiler note at the end summed it up.
— Spoiler Ending —These are the protagonist as a child, her son, her husband, and her elderly self. Through the home shopping intros, we flashback through their lives, reflecting on life's emptiness and the meaning of family.
Clear goals here, Moo-young noted. Sections outlined the play's purpose, direction, themes, and takeaways. Still rough overall, but his impression...
It's interesting.
Super intriguing material. Well-written, too. Even the short early script painted the mood and staging vividly. And the plot was perfect for theater.
"Woooaaah! Chicken! Chicken!"
"Number-one chicken!"
"Eleven kills. Insane. Carry of the game?"
A roar like a World Cup goal. Moo-young flinched, dropping the synopsis pages.
Shuffle— They scattered softly across the floor.
Only then did the roommates spot him. Faces flushed red. They looked thrilled.
"Gah! Wh-who are you?"
"Whoa, you scared me!"
Moo-young smiled, gathering the papers. He pointed to the desk with his finger and introduced himself.
"Hello. I'm Ha Moo-young."
"Ha Moo-young? Ooh! The maknae! Finally!"
"Thought you'd checked out. When'd you get back?"
"Just now. You guys were locked in, so..."
Choi Hwan and Park Mun-seong shook his hand warmly. But Kim Bong-gun just squinted, sizing him up.
A weird sense of familiarity. He'd seen this guy somewhere.
"You're the one promoting at the Dohran booth, right?"
"Ah!"
Lightning struck—Bong-gun remembered. That sharp-looking freshman from orientation!
He shot to his feet in shock.
"Whoa! Up close like this?"
"What? You two know each other?"
"Saw his face at OT."
What a coincidence. He'd left an impression back then, and now they'd end up dormmates!
Moo-young grinned sheepishly, clearly thinking the same.
"Sorry for peeking. It was just sitting on the desk."
"Huh? Oh, no worries."
"My bad. I'll clear it out. Dorm storage sucks, so we borrowed your spot. Oh, right—the essentials there are from the student council."
"Got it. Thanks."
The three bustled around, clearing Moo-young's desk. Bong-gun spun in his chair, eyeing the synopsis, then casually asked,
"So... you read it all?"
What was this? Fate's whisper? He'd been struggling with the young man character—the protagonist's son—while writing. And now this guy, who fit the role perfectly, shows up again!
"Yeah. Tough spot, huh?"
"Nah, not that. What'd you think?"
"What do I think..."
"Just your personal take."
Choi Hwan and Park Mun-seong exchanged glances. This guy wouldn't even share the plot with them, let alone feedback.
"It's fun."
"That's it?"
"Felt optimized for theater. The characters' secrets jumping between past and present are intriguing too. But..."
Moo-young paused while sorting his clothes. The protagonist and others had strong personalities, but the young man felt bland, colorless.
He hesitated, then met Bong-gun's sparkling eyes and phrased it gently.
"The son role seems underdeveloped."
"...That obvious?"
Moo-young offered careful input. First meeting—no read on the guy's personality yet.
"The home shopping vibe is bright and lively, so toning it down with heavy characters makes sense. But leaning into the fun, comedic side could work too. Use the empty son spot for that?"
Then he smiled, eyes crinkling warmly.
Bong-gun pictured him onstage instantly. Blissfully unaware of being "sold," purely pitching himself in the shopping frame...
"Maknae, literature major? Bong-gun's hoobae?"
"Nah, global culture."
"But you talk like you've got chops."
"I like books."
Moo-young just smiled at Choi Hwan's comment. He'd heard that at auditions too. Maybe talent here as well? A knack for characters, at least.
"Skip it—haven't eaten dinner, right?"
"Yeah, just got in."
"Let's go. Killer chicken spot at the back gate. Chicken tonight! We'll pound some beer too! Been waiting forever for you, maknae!"
"Yeah, what've you been up to? Never around."
"Nooo! Don't spill! We'll hear the details over drinks. Heh heh."
Park Mun-seong grabbed his jacket, dancing with glee. Victory that sweet?
"Bong-gun, you're coming? Maknae welcome party."
"Nah, go ahead."
"C'mon—!"
"Got a writing itch."
Bong-gun slipped his headset back on. Not game noises this time—blaring home shopping jingle.
"Uh..."
"It's fine. He does this. Gets inspired mid-shower, comes out naked to write. Just us."
As Moo-young blinked in confusion, Choi Hwan shoved his back playfully, laughing.
Slam!
Dorm door shut. Bong-gun dove into surging inspiration.
The source? Moo-young's smile.
That night was special.
Tap-tap—
The birth of a play that won the 19th Korean University Literature Award—and later became a mega-hit in Daehangno.
And the night Moo-young's first video went live.
"Drink up! Maknae!"
"Damn. Downs it smooth."
"Web drama shoot? Figures—your skin's glowing. Tall too. Thinking acting?"
Above all, it was the night Moo-young got blackout drunk for the first time in his life.
* * *
"Urk—"
Moo-young clutched the hallway corner outside the lecture room, dry-heaving.
Crazy bastards. How could anyone chug booze two nights straight?
Seniors have light schedules last semester.
While he crawled to class, they were still snoring away.
Still...
It was fun.
Never knew booze could lift your spirits like that. Aftermath sucked, but a wild new experience.
Screech—
Moo-young barely held down his churning gut and entered the lecture hall.
But the vibe was off?
"You see this?"
"Yeah. That's him, right?"
"Huge. Going for acting?"
"He was good. Didn't fade next to Enbin."
Buzz buzz. Not rowdy—excited, electric air.
Moo-young sensed it but ignored. No energy to care.
"Ha Moo-young!"
Suddenly, the department head's clique called him out. Every eye in the room snapped to him.
"What're you?"
"Still reek?"
He'd scrubbed the booze smell...
Moo-young sniffed his sleeve. The head—Overhead?—looked baffled, then excitedly shoved his phone in Moo-young's face.
"YouTube real-time trending #1! This you!"
City of Seoul account. Web drama thumbnail: massive shots of Enbin and Moo-young.
Too smashed two nights running—no check-ins.
Moo-young burst out laughing in shock. Overhead grabbed and shook his shoulders.
"What the hell! What's your deal!"
"Wait—my stomach—"
"Seventy thousand views already? How's Enbin IRL? Spill!"
Shaken wildly, Moo-young clamped his mouth shut desperately.
"Urk—!"
"Ha Moo-young! Dude!"
Ignoring the curious crowd, he bolted to the bathroom.
Why shake me?!
As Moo-young hurled, his phone buzzed.
Vrrr. Vrrr.
Square Film's team leader.
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Read 161 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
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