“Is that so.”
“Yeah.”
Joo Tae-gang gave a bitter smile.
Help only counts when the person actually needs it; unwanted help can’t be called help at all.
In other words, if Joo Tae-gang wants to drop out of the drama, I have no right to stop him.
As people say, even if this flops, I can keep acting. As long as I do my part well, that’s enough.
‘Then why did I try to help Joo Tae-gang?’
At first, I told myself I shouldn’t even think about getting close to him.
Then, after hearing his confession at the drinking party and desperately trying to shield him from slander in the bathroom…
Maybe…
It was my own small way of atoning for the life I lived before regression, where I ignored everyone else.
I wondered if doing at least this much would lessen my guilt a little.
Not knowing which path is right, maybe I wanted to test that on someone unrelated to my past life.
To see if, when you trust and help someone, you really… get a good result in return.
And honestly, it’d be a bonus if things worked out and Joo Tae-gang soared, and I gained some backing along the way.
But I failed.
I nodded, packed my bag, and stood up.
“Understood. If you don’t want it, I have no reason to do any more.”
I spoke naturally while putting on my shoes at the entrance.
Still, I decided to say what I wanted before leaving.
“But, sunbae, I really hope you keep acting. To be honest, I recently got on the wrong side of another celebrity who was badmouthing you.”
It means: thanks to you, I might get slammed with a ton of criticism.
Joo Tae-gang’s eyebrow twitched slightly.
“What?”
Even a worm will squirm when stepped on. I hoped Joo Tae-gang would, too.
“And if you really drop out over this, you probably won’t get any projects for years because of your image. Plus, with advertising penalty fees, you’ll have quite a bit of spending. Who knows when you’ll land a proper role in the entertainment industry again?”
Uh-huh. You’ll probably retire because of this.
“Anyway… Don’t feel bad for me. Just think of it as me wanting to help out because I didn’t want to lose a big-shot senior who could block those badmouthing you for me.”
Joo Tae-gang scowled.
“Hold on, who said something to you?”
“They didn’t say it to me, but they said it to you. I just tried to shield you a bit.”
“Who was it? Who badmouthed me?”
“Uh… I don’t remember.”
That’s actually true.
I never was good at remembering faces.
And while there was much more I wanted to say to Joo Tae-gang, there weren’t many things a junior could say, so I decided to leave it at that.
“Anyway, I did it because I wanted to, so don’t feel too guilty.”
Still, it’s better to check this once.
“Sunbae, do you check malicious comments and stuff?”
“No? I only look at my fan cafe.”
Liar.
I saw it all pop up on his screen earlier.
I nodded to Joo Tae-gang, who was lying until the very end, and replied.
“That’s good, then. I’ll be going, but if anything happens, please contact me.”
Leaving his house, I thought,
If I’d been close to him before my regression, maybe he would’ve been part of the reason I died.
—
After Jeon Yeo-hu left, Joo Tae-gang sat alone in the now-empty living room.
Just moments ago, the living room was noisy. Now, it was quiet.
Joo Tae-gang opened the script Jeon Yeo-hu had left behind.
Jeon Yeo-hu, who always said he had two copies of the script, would leave one on the table here and head home.
Because of that habit, he left the script behind again today.
Joo Tae-gang opened the message from the director he’d received this morning.
[Tae-gang. I can wait until the first shoot.]
[And about that thing with your voice not coming out… Never mind. You know better than me.]
[Rest up, let’s meet soon.]
He told his junior he only read posts in his fan cafe, but that was a lie.
Joo Tae-gang was an absolute internet ghost.
Truthfully, he checked every comment about himself.
He knew which articles were out, who he was inconveniencing, and by how much.
He knew everything.
That’s why he exaggerated and played himself up even more.
But he had no self-pity.
He did things worth being criticized for, and he got criticized.
What else is there to say?
He wanted to go back.
But even if he returned now, could he act better than Park I-won?
…Well, his acting was better than that guy’s, but he probably wouldn’t have a bigger advertising impact.
Turning his head from the sofa, he saw his Father.
A ghost.
A wraith.
Just his imagination.
“Dad, I took my medicine. Can you go now? Do you want to see your son be trash for any longer?”
Father didn’t answer.
Of course not. He was just a hallucination.
Joo Tae-gang covered his eyes with his arm.
Just then, his phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a message from Jeon Yeo-hu.
[Sunbae, I left my script. Come by and return it.]
“Huh.”
What kind of guy is this?
He’s got some serious guts.
There’s a big gap in seniority, and this is his first drama shoot—how is he so nonchalant?
…Ah.
‘He’s pretending to be relaxed.’
Wasn’t I the same way when I was young?
Full of bravado, trembling in fear, but never showing it.
Back when I used to say, ‘Acting is a piece of cake!’
At that time… What were my parents doing?
The ghost, now standing by the sofa, looked down at Joo Tae-gang.
Just as thin as when he last saw Father.
Joo Tae-gang, trying to ignore the figure, read and reread Jeon Yeo-hu’s script until it was almost 3 a.m.
He read it again and again until his hallucinations finally faded from view.
*****
Filming, first day.
The very first scene to shoot was Cha Hae-jun’s death.
I’d heard of people starting with a kiss scene, but starting with a death scene…
Not bad.
I already knew the hidden setup—that Cha Hae-jun’s death was disguised as suicide but was actually murder. So I’d already planned out the expression I’d make as I fell.
The first shoot excluded as much of sunbae Joo Tae-gang’s scenes as possible, but starting tomorrow there were already two scenes that needed him.
The staff, other than the director, all seemed to say we should stop the schedule and do a reading with Park I-won, but the director still seemed to want to trust Joo Tae-gang.
‘But isn’t this a nuisance for Park I-won too?’
Was he even preparing?
Thanks to the sudden schedule change, he couldn’t even join the reading and had to go straight into filming.
No wonder if he acts like a log for a day or so.
“Well, let’s start with this scene…”
Since there were plenty of other scenes to shoot in this building, there was a long wait.
Waiting is brutal for rookie, unknown, or bit-part actors.
If you’re with an agency, you might wait in a car or chat with your manager, but I had none of that.
I missed the comfy chairs, the warm heater, the manager who brought me coffee.
With the script memorized and nothing else to do, my mind wandered in pointless directions.
‘Why did I leave that life behind and die, anyway?’
Honestly, I’d achieved everything.
If I’d won a Best Actor award, my per-episode pay would’ve gone up, and with commercials and ambassadorships, there was nothing more to want.
Sure, I admit I thought I was unhappy.
But was I really so weak as to die over that?
I had enough mental fortitude to just take meds and hang on.
If only I’d caused some kind of scandal, I could at least understand it. But in my recovered memories, that part’s missing, and even the system took pity on me, not scolding me for messing up.
That’s probably why it let me regress and gave me a chance to quit acting.
Honestly, as long as being an actor here didn’t come with weird penalties, I should be grateful.
If the system lets me recall big incidents and avoid them, I should be able to climb back to that position without any trouble.
I even checked a few things with Jung Yun-woo and Park Min-tae.
‘Hey, do you have a driver’s license?’
‘Nope. Why?‘
‘Min-tae-nim, do you have a license?’
‘Of course I do, I’m a director. Why? You want to get one? But even though I have one, I don’t own a car, so when I drink I always take a taxi.’
There was a reason I only asked about licenses.
DUI is the quickest way to get caught, and for heavier scandals, I doubt they’d answer honestly.
‘…Did I really regret it enough to die?’
Slurp.
Three hours into waiting.
I was bored out of my mind just watching other people act, so I turned on my phone.
Today, the TAM commercial goes public.
Originally, it was supposed to be out yesterday, but there was a delay in the confirmation process, so it was released today.
It opened at noon, so it’s been up for an hour. Not a bad time to check the view count.
‘The TAM ad is up.’
Trending at number eight.
…Better than expected?
The view count was high.
Seventy thousand views in an hour.
TAM commercials usually start with twenty or thirty thousand, so seventy thousand is exceptionally high.
Before regression, I wasn’t in this, so I never cared about the initial view count.
The drama was supposed to be five minutes, but the final cut is three minutes forty-eight seconds.
Looks like the delay was due to negotiating which scenes to trim.
‘What got cut?’
I quickly checked the video.
This is… Lee Young-bin won’t like this.
A lot of Lee Young-bin’s scenes as the secondary male lead got edited out.
Especially his scene where he confessed and got rejected by Kim Un-yul—it’s gone completely.
My parts and Kim Un-yul’s are almost unchanged.
Should I check the comments?
Before regression, I purposely stopped reading comments over time.
I was afraid they’d affect my acting, and once it became a habit, I didn’t see any reason to check.
I wasn’t an idol, didn’t have a big fandom, and fans rarely flooded the shooting locations.
– Not a single bad actor in this 3-minute drama ad. Never seen any of them before, but they’re all super handsome/pretty and act well.
– 0:11 What’s this guy’s number? I asked because I actually know him. No, I swear this isn’t a scam.
└ His Instagram handle is this.
└ Thank you T_T
– The top ad I need to rewatch every spring, just like Cherry Blossom Ending.
– How could you not click when the thumbnail’s a hot guy?
└ That face is a plot point.
└ How was he even born? Seriously? How? In what way?
– I’m a man in my 30s who loves TAM phones. I watch every TAM commercial, but this is the first time I’ve felt the need to comment. Bro, don’t work out. I’m warning you.
└ LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL ah
– 2:48 The acting is really good—no fireworks in the night view, but it felt like fireworks were going off in my head. I’ve never seen either actor before, but I wish I could see them in a real drama, not just an ad T_TTT
Most of the comments were positive.
Well, with seventy thousand views and only around 130 comments, there aren’t enough for the haters to float to the top in the recommended sort.
If views go up tenfold from here, I’ll start seeing more hate.
There’s an easy solution in times like this.
‘Just don’t look.’
I closed the app without hesitation.
If there’s a big reaction, it’ll show up in the group chat, so I’ll check it then.
For now, with the ad doing well, I just need to focus on the drama.
‘But is sunbae Joo Tae-gang really not coming?’
If Joo Tae-gang doesn’t show up, this drama’s fate probably won’t change.
That would be a pity, but I can’t exactly force Joo Tae-gang to come by threatening him.
“Cha Hae-jun scene! Please get ready!”
Five hours into waiting. Finally, it was my turn.
*****
The apparent reason for Cha Hae-jun’s death is suicide.
Cha Hae-jun is chased by a prosecutor to the rooftop and resists, refusing to hand over a USB drive he found during a background check.
Sensing his own death on the rooftop, Cha Hae-jun decides he’ll never hand over the USB—he swallows it and does ‘something.’
The killer won’t be able to mess with the body, and no one at his funeral will tamper with evidence taken from his body.
Cha Hae-jun dies, and the protagonist, Yoon Sung, suspects something about his suicide since he knew someone was after the USB.
After becoming a prosecutor, the protagonist investigates Cha Hae-jun’s death alone.
In the process, Cha Hae-jun dies feeling a bit of satisfaction at getting some revenge, weighed down by the massive forces behind it, the crushing reality, and the guilt of leaving everything to his friend.
“The USB is made of sugar, so just eat it from this side. It’ll melt in your mouth right away.”
“Okay.”
I was nervous.
I felt like I might gag.
Just like someone acting for the first time.
But at the same time, I was certain.
No one could portray Cha Hae-jun better than me.
“Stand by.”
The director’s cue sounded.
Now, not as Jeon Yeo-hu.
“Action!!”
Cha Hae-jun had to speak.