Chapter 36.2

Chapter 36.2

He had no right to interfere in her life. His time in Korea was down to less than a week. Even if they had met a little earlier, he would have had to return to his life, back where he belonged. Regardless, there was no future for the two of them.

So, the path Miran had chosen to achieve the career she had long dreamed of was none of his business. But right now, André needed to know.

Was she really okay? Was she doing all of this of her own free will?

If he could confirm just those two things, he thought he could turn back without any regrets.

But if, by any chance, that wasn’t the case—

Before André could finish sorting out his thoughts, a voice, as harsh as grinding metal, spilled out from the wide-open door.

“Are all the assistant here? You’ve all worked hard. No one’s going to hold your hand or show you the way. The hardest part of this industry is the stage you’re all in right now. Everyone here has been an assistant, so we know how tough it is. But if you push yourself just enough to not collapse, you’ll stand where I’m standing one day. There’s no other director in Chungmuro who would give assistants an opportunity as special as this. So, watch closely, enjoy yourselves, and learn something. Got it?”

“Yes, Director!”

“If the boom mic picks up even the sound of your spit, you’re all out!”

After the loud, unanimous reply, the director hacked out a cough, his voice thick with phlegm, which made the men burst into laughter like a choir.

“Now we’re going into the real shoot. Let’s make this a highlight scene, give it your all. Ready, team?”

“Ready!”

At the director’s cue, someone reached to pull the wide-open door shut from the inside. Just before it closed, André slipped his hand into the narrowing gap. Gripping the edge with force, he yanked the door open, pulling a young man with a face covered in acne along with it. The man, startled, clung to the doorknob and stared up at André, his eyes widening in shock as they met André’s cold, stern face.

“Holy sh@t, what the hell! He actually came. These foreigners, unbelievable. Some other guy is gr0ping and su*ck!ng on his girl’s ti!~ts, and he comes here to watch. Hey! Come on, over there, in the corner. Shh, no sound, okay?”

The man gestured for André to follow, putting a finger to his lips to signal silence, then pointed to a corner where the other “assistants” were huddled together. As André moved to the corner, the men there began whispering among themselves. Meanwhile, the director called for the scene to start at the actors’ table.

“Ready! Sound.”

“Speed.”

The person holding the boom mic responded, and the slate operator spoke clearly before clapping the slate with a sharp snap.

“Scene eighteen, cut five, take one!”

“Camera.”

The director glanced at the camera, and the cameraman, looking through the viewfinder, answered mechanically.

“Rolling.”

Finally, with a sharp slicing gesture, the director yelled.

“Action!”

André’s eyes found Miran, sitting in front of the camera, wearing heavy makeup and a red dress with a plunging neckline. Like a piece of raw meat thrown in front of a pack of starving animals, the men in the room stared at her with hungry, predatory eyes.

André clenched his teeth, his gaze fixed on her. Miran’s pale face, hidden behind the thick makeup, trembled. It was a fitting performance for the scene, but her bloodshot eyes and the faint redness on her nose, barely concealed by the makeup, suggested otherwise.

‘Had she been crying?’

André stood tense, every muscle in his body tightened like a racehorse waiting for the signal or an arrow pulled to its limit in a bow.

Next to Miran sat the male actor playing Park Doosik, and on his lap was the actress playing Mimi. Her face was pale as well, but she seemed far more composed than Miran.

Park Doosik teased Mimi, then gulped down some alcohol before roughly pulling Miran towards him. Their lips awkwardly met, and the veins on André’s forehead bulged as his pulse pounded violently in his head.

A large amount of alcohol spilled from the corner of Miran’s mouth, trickling down her chin. Frozen in place, she clumsily wiped it with the back of her hand, coughing nervously. Despite the fear in her expression, André immediately recognized that she was acting.

It was, without question, an astonishingly terrible performance.