Chapter Text
JULY 23rd, 2023
Your stomach is in knots as you arrive on location for the commercial you’ve been cast in—the first paid acting gig you’ve nabbed. Just as an extra, but still, you’re all smiles as you marvel at the camera, lights, and crew running around. The chaos of it all adds to the excitement you’re feeling.
The premise of the commercial (for some luxury fragrance brand) involves a man and a woman who share a moment on the street. The woman takes the handkerchief from his suit pocket before turning around and walking away down an alley. The man chases after her, only to discover twenty women wearing the exact same outfit. As he tries to find her, he’s swarmed by the other women instead.
Not the best narrative, when you really think about it…it’s kind of insinuating all women are the same and will lust over a desirable man, who will then succumb to their advances. But now is not the time in your career where you can decline projects based on the message it’s pushing. Rent is quite literally due.
You need this.
You’re standing off to the side with a few other extras after getting dressed and having your hair and makeup done, gossiping about who the stars of the commercial are. IU? Park Bo-gum?
The female lead is the first to arrive—Seo Ye-ji. She bares a wide smile as she politely bows and greets everyone on her way to hair and makeup. When she reemerges dressed in the same outfit, you and the other girls do your best to contain your excitement.
The director calls everyone over, since several of the shots can be completed without the male lead. You watch Ye-ji film, in awe at her work ethic. She nails everything on the first take.
“Alright, extras. Veils on!” The assistant director calls.
You and the other girls put your veils on and stand with your backs to the camera. When action is called, you all proceed down the alleyway with Ye-ji blending in amongst you.
When the director has run through all the shots he can complete without the male lead, everyone is left waiting around for him to show up.
The clock is ticking—not that you’re complaining, you’re getting paid by the hour. But as Ye-ji’s assistant talks about needing to make other engagements, you can tell the director is growing anxious and it becomes apparent this isn’t normal.
Suddenly, the director shouts, “Get him to hair and makeup, now!”
You turn to see who it is you’ve been waiting on and your mouth drops open.
Hwang Hyunjin.
Both of the girls on either side of you reach down and grab your hands—sharing in the surprise of who’s air you’re breathing as quietly as possible whilst squeezing each other’s hands to death.
Ye-ji is beautiful, there’s no doubt about that.
But Hyunjin? A fucking ethereal glow surrounds his frame as he glides through set. He commands the attention of the room, but he doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he passes by. He barely nods as an introduction, says absolutely nothing about being late, and when the makeup artist accidentally gets a dab of concealer on his jeans, he swats her hand away as she attempts to clean it—complaining about a dry-cleaning bill.
You and the other girls share a look, the bubble of adoration you were in moments before starting to burst. You know actors are rarely the same in real life as the characters they portray…but this is so far from what you would have expected of him.
He yells for someone to bring him a coffee, and a meek production assistant (PA) scurries off to retrieve it from craft services. But when he brings it back, Hyunjin looks at the cup, then up to him and heaves a heavy sigh of annoyance.
“There’s a Ediya Coffee shop up the street. Get it from there.”
The PA bows, apologizes, and takes off so fast it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase running an errand.
With tensions already high on set from being behind, no one dares correct his attitude. It must be true that people can get anywhere on looks and talent, even if they’re shitty human beings.
Hyunjin changes into his suit for the commercial and, finally, filming resumes. He does the shots with Ye-ji first so she can wrap for the day, then you and the other girls are up.
The director has you do several practice runs, throwing out suggestions for Hyunjin to tweak his expression, and later chooses to have the girls, instead of just reaching out for him, to actually touch him—his face, his chest, his arms.
Hyunjin doesn’t seem too pleased at the idea.
“Watch your nails, girls, you might get a mouth full about a hospital bill,” you say quietly to break some of the tension that’s been lingering.
Some of the women laugh.
Hyunjin’s eyes find you in the crowd of women—his expression bone dry—and it shakes you to your core.
You promptly press your lips together and he quirks an eyebrow, as if saying ‘That’s right. Shut it.’
You don’t utter another word. In fact, you altogether avoid being in his direct line of sight for the rest of the shoot.
When the director calls wrap, Hyunjin changes back into his own clothes, concealer stain and all, and leaves without saying goodbye. All you can think is how you hope to never work with him again.