Free Web Novel“Okay!”
After the signal was given, Galdaeguk and Ma Eungyo exchanged a quiet conversation.
They were too far away for her to hear.
And then came something shocking.
“I think that’s good enough. Shall we move on?”
“I agree. Let’s prepare the next scene. Move the cameras!”
Galdaeguk and Ma Eungyo were acting unlike themselves.
They were being far too normal.
‘This isn’t right.’
Up until this scene, neither of them had reacted like that.
They had already been making a huge fuss about how well she matched Han Yohan.
‘So °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° after filming this scene, I thought...’
Galdaeguk would have run off into the distance because simply bouncing around wasn’t enough.
Ma Eungyo would have tilted her head and praised herself like always.
“GAAAAAH!!! To capture a scene like thissss!!! My heart is about to bursttttt!!!”
“I don’t really know, but people keep saying Ma Eungyo is going to go down in history for melodramas? Like one of the 102 Great Figures Who Illuminated Korea. By the way, Director Ja is the other one.”
The two people she expected to say things like that were suddenly speaking in perfectly ordinary tones.
It did not take long to realize something was wrong.
Caught completely off guard, she stared blankly up at Han Yohan.
With a calm gesture, Han Yohan handed her a handkerchief as though telling her to wipe her mouth.
“We need to shoot the next scene....”
“W-Wait a second!”
Startled, she stumbled over her words.
They were really moving on?
After those two had reacted like that?
No.
This wasn’t right.
“Let me do it one more time!”
The scene they had just filmed was an incredibly important section where Ria’s feelings finally began to move.
And on top of that, it was the first kiss scene.
Ria | (Following behind Taeo.) You got hurt, didn’t you?
Taeo | (Walks silently. He does not slow down for her.)
Ria | (Almost jogging as she tries to catch him. Slightly out of breath.) You got hurt!
Taeo | (He knows he can hear her footsteps behind him. But he continues looking ahead in silence.)
Ria | (Finally catches him after running. She deliberately grabs the injured arm.) You got hurt! (But Taeo shows no change in expression. Strangely, Ria looks like the one in pain. Irritated.) Why won’t you say anything? Why?!
When they first started working together, Ria had intended to keep her distance from Taeo.
But she could no longer leave him alone when he kept throwing himself into danger.
She felt pathetic for being drawn to him despite knowing she shouldn’t.
And resentful of Taeo for constantly pushing her away.
The one-sided feelings of an honest woman deciding to leap into the life of a dangerous, emotionally detached man.
And then the kiss scene that followed.
‘Everything before that was good.’
She had learned the feeling of a heart overflowing with love.
She knew the sensation of a massive wave of emotion toward Taeo spilling over uncontrollably.
‘Then why?’
Taeo | (Removes Ria’s hand from his arm.) Stop worrying about me.
Ria | (Hits his chest in frustration.) How is that not my business? What isn’t? Tell me!
Taeo | (Grabs both her wrists as she strikes him repeatedly.) Stop.
Ria | Is that what they teach you at the ICC? Don’t share information no matter what? Draw clear lines even if you're on the same team? Like that? (The end of her voice trembles slightly.)
The two stare silently at each other.
The atmosphere is dangerous.
Looking at Ria’s tearful face, Taeo cannot help remembering his childhood.
Completely unaware, Ria grabs Taeo by the collar.
And from there, the kiss scene follows.
But she could not figure out what the problem was.
Why were their reactions so lukewarm?
‘What exactly was wrong?’
Instead of bouncing around, Director Gal merely shrugged at her request for a reshoot.
“It’s good enough. Just move on.”
“Director, wait a second. Isn’t this a really important scene?”
“Gaaah! Is there such a thing as an important scene and an unimportant scene? Every scene is equally important.”
“But...”
Ma Eungyo shook her head.
“Not every scene can be a hundred points. If it comes out great, that’s wonderful. If it’s lacking, it can’t be helped. You know there are still plenty of important scenes left.”
Han Yeoreum’s pride shattered.
She had naturally considered the first kiss scene one of the production’s defining moments.
“It’s not like they’ll only kiss once. If we obsess over every little thing, we’ll run out of time for the scenes later and end up with a strong beginning and a weak ending. Is that what you want?”
“....”
She shook her head.
Hong Suryeon and Yoo Jiuk’s 〈There Is Only One Culprit〉 had come to mind.
She understood logically.
But the words “I understand” would not come out easily.
‘I thought this was my chance to break through the limits I’d been holding back.’
Had she overdone it?
Should she have shown less irritation?
The same Galdaeguk who had practically shouted that her interpretation of Ria was exactly right was now discussing something with the cinematographer.
‘Am I not giving one hundred percent right now?’
She had been certain she was showing exactly what the director and writer had described during script readings.
Yet their reaction clearly suggested otherwise.
Anxiety crept in.
She turned to Ma Eungyo.
“Could you please give me direction one more time? If you do, I can finish it really quickly, Writer.”
But the answer she received was completely unexpected.
“The truth is, we don’t know either.”
“What?”
“It feels a little weak. But we don’t know why. We can’t clearly explain it ourselves, so we decided to finish here and move on. We’re making commercial art. We have to consider both time and quality when delivering a final product. We understand you’re disappointed, but....”
“It’s frustrating. It hurts. I’m a little upset too. During script reading, you said something completely different.”
“We did.”
Ma Eungyo nodded.
“But you know how it is. Sometimes what you imagine in your head and what you actually see with your eyes end up being different.”
In other words, neither the director nor the writer could properly direct her.
“Baby, if we keep reshooting this, we won’t be able to add that extra scene from yesterday. Which one are you choosing?”
At that moment, Galdaeguk returned from his conversation with the cinematographer.
“Since filming is wrapping up earlier than expected! If we only reshoot close-ups and a few select shots instead of the entire sequence, we might be able to fit it in on the last day!”
Han Yeoreum looked at Ma Eungyo.
Ma Eungyo looked back at her.
“Both.”
If she could finish every assigned scene smoothly and without NGs—
There was already a Plan B that would allow them to revisit this scene, the one that still left only questions behind.
She couldn’t simply let it go.
Han Yeoreum decided to be greedy.
* * *
Now she finally understood why Han Yohan was called every action director’s dream.
Even the trajectory of the way he threw his body into danger was different.
Watching him vault effortlessly over a railing, Han Yeoreum couldn’t help staring.
“That's insane....”
The scene being filmed now was Taeo’s very first appearance in 〈Code Name: Time Seven〉.
Despite Director Gal’s insistence that she rest while waiting for her own scenes, Han Yeoreum had come to watch Han Yohan’s filming.
The more she watched, the smaller she felt.
Her Ria seemed less complete than Han Yohan’s Taeo.
‘Honestly, I was a little arrogant. I thought I could carry this project too.’
A senior really was a senior.
Every time Han Yohan completed a scene, everyone around him—and even Han Yeoreum herself—could only admire him in pure amazement.
Ria appeared in this scene only briefly.
Just a few seconds within Taeo’s scope.
“Ha....”
It was one of the scenes destined for the trailer.
It was also adult Ria’s first appearance.
The editors would surely take special care with it.
The action looked so good that it would become one of the drama’s most memorable moments.
‘And I wanted the first kiss scene to make an impact too.’
Why hadn’t it reached one hundred percent?
What exactly was the difference between what Ma Eungyo and Galdaeguk envisioned and what they had seen?
She looked toward Dok Gomin, who had come trotting over beside her.
“That guy moves like a wild animal. Just keeping up with him long enough to press the shutter is hard, and his movement paths are huge! But genius Dok Gomin handled it perfectly. Mm-hm. Look at this.”
Han Yeoreum quietly stared at the camera screen Dok Gomin showed her.
Inside the frame, Han Yohan truly had become Matteo.
The profile directors loved more than anything.
The way he lifted his gaze upward.
The sharp eyes exposed by his monolids.
The unmistakable sense of purpose inside them.
“Huuuuu....”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Unni... what am I lacking?”
“Lacking?!”
For a long time, Dok Gomin explained exactly how amazing a subject Han Yeoreum was.
She even pulled up the still cuts from the kiss scene again.
But no matter how many times Han Yeoreum looked at them, she still didn’t understand.
“It’s perfect in the photos.”
“That’s because these are genius Dok Gomin’s photos. They can’t not be perfect. Mm-hm.”
“Then the angle, eye direction, and hand placement during the kiss scene were all fine?”
One by one, she eliminated possibilities.
If that was true, only the eyes and line delivery remained.
‘How should I be looking at him?’
Another okay signal was given to Matteo on the monitor.
Han Yeoreum shifted her gaze.
She saw sweat dripping from the tip of Han Yohan’s chin as he bent forward, catching his breath after pushing himself to the limit.
* * *
The second night in Russia after filming began safely.
A modest snack party was being held in the lighting director’s room.
The lighting director, whose shoulders had stiffened from the brutal Russian cold, rubbed his neck.
“Ah, I’m tired.”
“If you're already tired, what are you gonna do? We’ve still got more than two weeks left.”
“Wait until you're my age, punk.”
Toasting with hot cocoa and milk, the staff chatted about the day’s filming.
“Still, I thought the kiss scene was good.”
“Me too.”
“Is Director Gal always that cold?”
Everyone on the crew would have given the first kiss scene at least an eighty.
Just pulling that level of chemistry out opposite Han Yohan was already impressive.
“She’s one of Ja Sokhwan’s kids.”
That one explanation answered everything.
Galdaeguk and Ma Eungyo maintained their reputations partly because they were complete lunatics.
But mostly because their abilities justified those reputations.
“Writer Ma is right. If you obsess over every scene, you’ll get burned later. Are we going to sacrifice the explosion scene? Of course not.”
“Still, couldn’t they extend the stay a little? The bureau chief likes Han Yeoreum.”
“No chance. She absolutely has to attend the MBS Drama Awards.”
Everyone nodded.
“She’ll win, right?”
“Of course.”
“There’s nobody else at MBS who deserves an award this year.”
As everyone confidently declared Han Yeoreum would win the Top Excellence Award, the lighting director finally spoke.
“Still, her entrance scene today was incredible.”
“Ahhh! Right? Right?”
“Director Gal was jumping around so much he almost crashed into a pigeon.”
The sky had been cloudy.
Under gloomy, overcast weather, the lighting director had done everything he could to make Ria stand out.
But even that had not been enough.
“She honestly looked like a saint.”
A single beam of light had broken through the clouds and illuminated Han Yeoreum.
As if she alone were glowing within Matteo’s field of vision.
“You know, before I became a director, I worked on one of Ji Haebeom’s films.”
“Which one?”
“Director Eom Gyun’s.”
Everyone nearby reacted with admiration.
It made sense.
It was the blockbuster that had elevated Ji Haebeom to the very top.
One of the five highest-grossing Korean films ever made.
“If darkness suited Ji Haebeom perfectly... there’s always light and darkness, right? Light and shadow. You can’t separate them.”
The lighting director still remembered Ji Haebeom’s performance vividly.
The overwhelming presence that seemed to dominate the entire set.
The weight that felt capable of devouring light itself.
The strange sensation that, despite everyone knowing the story already, he had somehow torn the script apart and come alive anew.
“But for me?”
He smiled.
“I think light suits Han Yeoreum better than anyone.”
And in contrast—
Han Yeoreum seemed to illuminate the set itself.
Like someone determined to shine even within darkness.
Someone pouring everything she had into that effort.
If he dared compare them, she did not fall behind Ji Haebeom at all.
The crew laughed off his comment.
“What about Myeong Jeha? Director Eom Gyun’s guy from 〈War with the Rule of Law〉? Shouldn’t he get the light role?”
“You really adore Yeoreum.”
Playful jeers filled the room.
But the lighting director never withdrew his statement.
Because he genuinely believed Han Yeoreum was the actor most suited to light.
“Anyway!”
Clap!
Someone slapped their hands together.
“So! Can the kiss scene reshoot happen or not?”
The staff eagerly started making bets.
The cheerful night passed.
As they cleaned up leftover snacks and empty drink cans, someone muttered happily:
“This location shoot is such a success. I wish every day could be like this.”
In the entertainment industry, and especially on overseas shoots, every day was usually a battlefield full of unexpected disasters.
Everyone nodded and laughed.
Because it really was a good set.
At least—
Up until that moment.
