Chapter 38: The Stand-In Actress

Mangwon-dong, Seoul.

As evening came and the sky darkened, streetlights began to flicker on one by one in every alley. Chun Nayoung got off at the nearest bus stop.

Just as always, Chun Nayoung pulled her ball cap down low. She lifted the brim just slightly to scan her surroundings.

On the narrow street ahead, shops lined both sides, and people hurried to and fro.

Blending in among people exchanging casual chatter with various expressions, Chun Nayoung stared intently at her smartphone, searching for the address.

After walking for quite a while, she found herself in a quiet alley.

There wasn’t anything remarkable to see, yet beyond a low wall, a group of people caught her eye, bustling about busily.

Various lights and cameras gathered together, each casting its own hue over the alley.

Staff members divided by their respective teams busied themselves communicating, working to keep the shoot on track.

Seeing this, Chun Nayoung let out a gasp before she realized it.

“It’s a film set?”

A chilly wind swept gently through the alley, making Chun Nayoung’s heart pound with a mix of nerves and excitement.

Looking around the scene, she almost felt as if she were standing at the center of the world.

Just then, as she stood staring absent-mindedly, a man in a black mountain parka approached her.

“Excuse me, are you Chun Nayoung?”

“Oh… Yes. How did you know?”

“I heard from Author Lee Junghyuk ahead of time.”

Introducing himself as the assistant director, the man beckoned her to follow.

He led her deeper into the set, weaving between countless cameras and monitor stands, and brought her before a man seated among them.

“Director, a guest of Author Lee Junghyuk is here.”

“Oh, yes.”

The man, who’d been sitting in a foldable camping chair, stood up with a slight groan.

His hair was shaggy, and dark stubble shadowed his jaw under tired eyes—he looked exhausted, yet he offered his hand politely.

“I’m Park Sangtae, director of from Author Lee Junghyuk.”

Chun Nayoung removed her cap, lightly shook his hand, and bowed her head.

“Hello, Director. I’m Chun Nayoung. What would you like me to help with here?”

Of course, she’d been called because they needed extra hands and would likely get a simple job, but truthfully, just being here on set made her feel as if she were stepping onto a grand stage.

Whether he realized how she felt or not, Park Sangtae spoke unhurriedly.

“You’ll be working as part of the directing crew. It’s nothing complicated—just do your best.”

Normally, an assistant director or another staff member would greet a part-time worker like her, but since Author Lee Junghyuk had put in a special word that this was his acquaintance, Park Sangtae had agreed to meet her personally.

Because of that, Park Sangtae pretended not to care as he observed Chun Nayoung.

With such a small face, her mask covered nearly all of it, leaving only her eyes visible, but even at a glance, she didn’t look ordinary.

‘What sort of scheme is the author up to this time?’

He wanted to ask her to pull her mask down just a bit, since her face was even smaller than most actresses known for their proportions.

But, knowing she was a friend of Lee Junghyuk’s, Park Sangtae didn’t pry, and instead continued with ordinary questions.

“Have you ever worked on a film set before?”

“I’ve done similar work, so I think I’ll manage well.”

“Alright, then. I’m counting on you.”

After finishing their introduction, the assistant director in the black parka led Chun Nayoung away once more.

Her job today was the same as any other assistant director—moving and setting up equipment and props needed for filming.

And so, Chun Nayoung joined as one of the assistant directors, and filming for officially began.

A text came from the assistant director on the team—Chun Nayoung had arrived.

I stood up from my seat in a nearby cafe and strolled leisurely toward the set.

Bringing Chun Nayoung to the set today wasn’t because I had grand ambitions.

‘She needs time to open her heart, slowly.’

From what I’d seen, Chun Nayoung clearly still had lingering attachments to acting.

The biggest obstacle to her returning as an actress had always been her mother, but after a recent incident, her mother was confirmed to be institutionalized for a long period.

Now, she no longer had to live every day with the fear that her mother might suddenly appear and hurt her.

I couldn’t just tell her to go audition right away, so I’d decided to let her soak in the atmosphere of the set and rekindle her instincts as an actress.

It wasn’t just to have her do assistant work.

By setting up a staged “coincidence,” I wanted to give her the motivation to return to acting.

Arriving at the set, I saw Chun Nayoung wearing her mask, bustling about, diligently helping the staff.

“Chun Nayoung.”

“Huh? You’re here today, too?”

Apparently she hadn’t expected me, and greeted me warmly, hurrying over.

Feigning ignorance, I asked, “Is the work manageable?”

“Yes, I’ve done plenty of part-time jobs. For the day’s wage, this is a total breeze.”

“That’s good to hear.”

I glanced subtly toward Park Sangtae, making brief eye contact without Chun Nayoung noticing.

Park Sangtae gave a small nod, and in a rather stiff tone, raised his voice so the assistant director and others nearby could hear.

“What? Seriously? What are we supposed to do now?”

“They said the car broke down after a fender bender on the way. It’s impossible for them to make it on time for today’s schedule.”

“Tsk tsk. Well, then we’ll need to find a stand-in from somewhere, won’t we?”

This was the situation I’d asked Director Park Sangtae to set up in advance—a performance, in fact.

‘Man, that acting is so bad it hurts.’

Even I had to shake my head at the painfully awkward acting.

I hurried to prod Chun Nayoung.

“Looks like something’s happened.”

“Yeah, maybe there was an accident or something?”

“Maybe we should go over and ask?”

I led the unsuspecting Chun Nayoung over to Director Park Sangtae’s station.

“Oh my, isn’t this Author Lee Junghyuk? What brings you to the set? Hahaha.”

“I heard something happened. Is there a problem with the shoot?”

“Oh, ahaha, it’s nothing much. The supporting actor who was supposed to appear today had an accident, you see. Tsk tsk. What to do, what to do.”

It was clear now why Park Sangtae had chosen to be a director instead of an actor, despite graduating from the Korea National University of Arts, Department of Theater and Film.

Before today’s shoot, I’d asked Park Sangtae for a personal favor.

I told him I wanted to try having someone act under the excuse of suddenly needing a stand-in.

Of course, it could interrupt the filming, and if Chun Nayoung’s acting wasn’t up to par, we might have to reshoot the whole scene, and such an unreasonable request should’ve been refused.

But for my sake—since I’d entrusted him with —Director Park Sangtae agreed to go along.

I was worried that Chun Nayoung might grow suspicious because of his comically unnatural acting, but thankfully, she didn’t seem to doubt much.

Who would suspect a drama director and assistant director of staging such a ploy, after all?

I quickly stole the line Park Sangtae should have delivered.

“If you need a stand-in, Chun Nayoung here could do it.”

“Oh, the author’s acquaintance? That would be an immense help, truly!”

All eyes turned to her, and flustered, Chun Nayoung stepped back, waving her hands.

“Me? Oh, no, I’m not an actress or anything…”

“Come on, Nayoung, you used to be a child actress. Remember? The one from the Baskin Robbins commercial ten years ago.”

“Oh, that clever little child actor? That was Chun Nayoung?”

“Wow, then you must be able to act. Could you help us out?”

Naturally, just as if it had been planned, everyone took turns asking Chun Nayoung to act.

And of course, it was all set up from start to finish, even if the performance was clumsy.

Chun Nayoung hesitated, glancing at me as if gauging my reaction, then turned to look around the set.

Then, with a determined look, she nodded cautiously.

“I’ll do it—as long as it’s not a role that’ll cause problems.”

Of course, I wasn’t about to force someone unwilling over a cliff, so I asked one more time.

“Are you really alright with this? If you’re uncomfortable, we can find someone else.”

“No, I’ll try it. I can do it.”

As soon as she agreed, waiting staff members rushed over and handed her a prepared outfit.

The role was a small one—a regular customer at , appearing only in today’s episode and not again.

But the padded jacket and jeans Chun Nayoung was wearing looked more like a laborer than a restaurant patron.

She changed into a coat, quickly smoothing her hair that had been flattened by her cap.

Then, she received a script with just a few lines, enough for three sentences, and took a moment to memorize her dialogue.

Soon, Chun Nayoung stood in front of the cameras and lights, ready to act.

The scene was simple.

She would enter Macho Restaurant, greet the owner—played by lead actor Park Hyungjun—and deliver the signature line of a regular: “I’ll have the usual again today.”

With Park Sangtae’s signal, the shoot began.

Chun Nayoung entered through the restaurant set’s door.

“Hello.”

She greeted normally and walked into the ㄷ-shaped counter seating.

She naturally sat across from lead actor Park Hyungjun and took off her coat.

She tucked her hair behind her ear with one hand as she looked at the menu—a moment the camera zoomed in for a close-up.

Watching her image on the monitor through the camera lens, I almost let out a gasp of admiration.

But apparently, I wasn’t the only one taken aback by such a simple scene of entering and ordering.

A beat late, Park Sangtae spoke into the megaphone in a dazed voice.

“Cut. Let’s try that again.”

For one simple reason.

Chun Nayoung’s presence on screen was far too striking for a mere supporting role.