They were on their way, riding in a taxi.
Han Seong-tae glanced down at his smartphone, relishing the cool air from the A/C.
“You’re something else. Don’t you get dizzy reading stuff on your phone in the taxi?”
“No, it’s fine. I can read in moderation.”
“Ugh, I don’t know how you do it. If I so much as tilt my head down a bit, I get car sick.”
“You get used to it.”
In response to Kim Min-seok’s comment, Han Seong-tae chuckled and kept scrolling.
He was looking through the script he’d received by email.
Though it lacked the appeal of physically turning pages on paper, viewing a script on a smartphone or tablet was more convenient and portable.
Plus, you never had to worry about it getting wet.
“Hey, shouldn’t we hit the beach before summer’s over? Last year, we never even got in the water.”
“Hmm…”
“Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. Don’t you want to go?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t see the point of going all the way to the beach just to take a dip. There’s a local pool we could go to, right?”
He didn’t want to waste the time he’d gained after returning to the past by just going on trips. He understood what Kim Min-seok wanted, but he felt it would be a better use of time to practice his craft instead.
“Man, you really want to keep at this acting thing, huh?”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to theater school in the first place.”
“True… not exactly wrong.”
Kim Min-seok had turned his body slightly to face Han Seong-tae to continue talking, but now he straightened up with a sigh. He could tell that no matter how much he tried, he wouldn’t be able to persuade his friend otherwise.
Han Seong-tae shook his head slightly at Kim Min-seok’s faint grumbling.
After all, Han Seong-tae wasn’t the only student in the theater and film department. Kim Min-seok was in the same program, yet his behavior often came across as someone who wasn’t all that into acting.
Well, it’s not like I don’t understand—Min-seok has a different dream.
Han Seong-tae knew Kim Min-seok’s future. In his previous life, Kim Min-seok discovered that dream too late and started making moves much later on. He wondered how things might change if Min-seok pursued his real passion sooner this time around.
“Min-seok.”
“Huh?”
“Why do you act?”
“What’s with the random question?”
Kim Min-seok cocked his head, puzzled. Of all people, why was someone in a theater and film department asking about why he acts? He hesitated for a moment and then spoke in a casual tone.
“I mean… why do you act?”
“It’s my dream. I’ve wanted it ever since I was little.”
“Mine’s pretty similar, I guess.”
“Really? But to me, it feels like you hate acting.”
Han Seong-tae bluntly expressed how he felt. Kim Min-seok let out a scoff but also seemed thoughtful.
“You’re not wrong. I’m not even sure if I really want to do this. To be honest, acting isn’t exactly fun for me.”
“Then why not try something else?”
“Something else?”
“Yeah. If you don’t actually like acting, isn’t it weird to keep going? Hmm… you’d probably look good behind a camera. What about trying your hand at directing?”
He mentioned Kim Min-seok’s childhood dream—something Min-seok only realized much later on in their original timeline. He hoped Min-seok would follow that path sooner this time.
But Kim Min-seok just sighed as if to say, “Stop talking nonsense.”
“Do you really think that’s possible? The moment I so much as pick up a camera, someone I know practically has a seizure about it. Just forget it. Take care of yourself instead. You’re the one who’s got a photo shoot soon, so why’re you worrying about me?”
Since Min-seok was so adamant, there wasn’t much else Han Seong-tae could say. After all, it was ultimately Min-seok’s decision, and saying something once wouldn’t magically change anything. Besides, he also knew that Min-seok’s family circumstances were complicated, which made it even harder for him to dream of being a director.
I’ll just focus on my own business.
Poking too much into someone else’s life wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Han Seong-tae turned his attention back to his script. He still had a lot to learn before worrying about anyone else.
With the two of them now quiet, the taxi continued on toward the office.
They arrived at the “Smile” office.
Unlike on Saturday, Kim Mi-so and her staff were bustling around frantically. They were organizing and packaging clothes. The place was so busy, it felt awkward to even say a quick hello.
[“One Who Defined an Era” smiles at you with a hint of nostalgia.]
While Han Seong-tae was waiting, Kim Mi-so finished up what she was doing and came over to him, looking genuinely happy to see him.
“You’re here! Did you have any trouble getting over?”
“No, I came by taxi with Min-seok.”
“Good, good. Oh, right. Let me introduce you to the photographer. Come on.”
Following her, he headed to the photo area, where the photographer was already checking his camera.
“Seon-bin.”
“Huh? Oh…”
He looked tired somehow.
“This is Yoo Seon-bin, the photographer who’ll be shooting our lookbook today. We went to the same university. And this here is Han Seong-tae from Korea University’s theater and film department. He’ll be our model for the day.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Hello. Looking forward to working with you.”
They shook hands politely, and as Seong-tae raised his head, he noticed Seon-bin discreetly sizing him up—eyeing him from head to toe.
When he finished, Seon-bin turned to Kim Mi-so.
“He definitely has the kind of look you’d go for.”
“Right? He’s super handsome. He may look a bit casual right now, but once he’s all styled, it’s no joke.”
“Yeah, I could see that. Seong-tae, have you ever modeled before? Like, for fittings?”
“No, this’ll be my first time.”
He shook his head at once. Hearing that, Yoo Seon-bin’s eyebrow twitched. After a moment’s thought, he turned back to Kim Mi-so.
“Seriously, Mi-so? I don’t care how good-looking he is; you really want to bring in someone with zero modeling experience?”
“That’s exactly why I knew you’d worry. But trust me, this is not the sort of guy you need to be concerned about. Once we actually start, you’ll be surprised.”
“Hmm…”
“Just try a few shots. You know me—I don’t just bring anyone in.”
Brimming with confidence, she gave him a big smile. He sighed in response and glanced at Seong-tae again, shaking his head.
“Fine, do whatever. If things go south, it’s your problem, not mine. Seong-tae, first we need to get you changed.”
“You…”
At Seon-bin’s words, Kim Mi-so narrowed her eyes but then sighed before walking over to Seong-tae.
“Come on, Seong-tae, let’s go get you dressed.”
“Sure.”
He followed her to the dressing area.
As he walked, he glanced back at Seon-bin. That comment about a newbie model felt a bit dismissive, but Seong-tae couldn’t argue—it was his first time, after all. It wasn’t strange for the photographer to be skeptical.
Yes, he could defend himself, but…
[“One Who Defined an Era” assures you that today will be an unforgettable day.]
There was no need for words. The easiest way to convince people is through action, not talk. And Han Seong-tae was ready.
“Wow!”
Exclamations came from all directions when Han Seong-tae stepped out of the dressing room.
He’d originally been wearing a gray T-shirt and black shorts, but now he had on brownish pants, a white shirt, and a bluish-gray coat—an outfit that exuded a strong autumn vibe.
[“One Who Defined an Era” says all you need now is a simple facial touch-up.]
The reason he could dress so well was largely thanks to “One Who Defined an Era.” The God of Acting pointed out tips he’d never have thought of otherwise, so even wearing the same clothes made him look far more stylish.
“Seong-tae, let’s just do a light bit of makeup.”
“Makeup?”
“Yeah, nothing complicated—just a quick touch here and there.”
Before he knew it, she had dragged him to a mirror. Several staff members started applying makeup to his face. Watching himself in the mirror, he felt a little strange.
Is that… me?
They’d only brushed his face with a few swipes, and yet…
It was like the usual Han Seong-tae was gone. He realized that people don’t wear makeup for no reason.
“Perfect. Now let’s go shoot.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t be nervous. Seon-bin’s really talented, so as long as you don’t do anything too weird, he’ll make it work.”
With her reassurance, Han Seong-tae nodded.
“Well… I’ll do my best, just like last time.”
“Great.”
He took a deep breath and stepped onto the set. Maybe because this was the real deal, he could feel himself getting a bit tense.
“Relax your shoulders. We’ll go nice and steady,” he heard Yoo Seon-bin say.
With that, Seong-tae tried to calm himself, emptying his mind of distractions and focusing on the shoot.
Click.
With the camera shutter sound, the session began.
Click.
The office was filled with the clicking of the camera.
Yoo Seon-bin instructed Han Seong-tae on various poses, and he did his best to comply.
They took quite a few pictures until finally:
“Mm… that’s good. Let’s take a short break.”
Surprisingly, the atmosphere on set wasn’t exactly lively. Things were going fine, but just that—fine.
[“One Who Defined an Era” watches you quietly.]
So far, he had been posing without the God of Acting’s help. He still remembered the feeling from his little test shoot last time, so it wasn’t as if he couldn’t pose at all. But Kim Mi-so and Yoo Seon-bin wore somewhat puzzled expressions as they watched him.
“Mi-so, his poses aren’t bad, but they’re not exactly great, either. Are you sure about this?”
“Hmm… I think he’s still tense. He was like this for the first hour last time, too. Let’s shoot a little longer.”
“…Sure, I mean, I’m just the hire here, so I won’t complain. Still… I don’t know.”
Overhearing their conversation, Han Seong-tae drank some water. He didn’t particularly feel bad—he wasn’t a trained model, so it would’ve been weird if he was fantastic at this from the start.
And besides, the God of Acting had been staying quiet.
[“One Who Defined an Era” suggests you try a simple pose now.]
But that was about to change. Once the God of Acting stepped in, there was nothing “half-baked” about it.
[“One Who Defined an Era” wants you to clasp your hands and extend them slightly forward.]
He listened to the God of Acting’s advice.
[“One Who Defined an Era” wants you to lift your chin a bit.]
Han Seong-tae obeyed the instructions without question. They were the God of Acting, after all—why doubt them?
[“One Who Defined an Era” says to gently raise your right leg.]
Even though the request was a bit unusual, he followed it. Trusting the God of Acting wouldn’t do him any harm, right?
He clasped his hands neatly, tilted his chin up, and lifted his right leg slightly. Now what?
[“One Who Defined an Era” smiles with satisfaction.]
“…Oh.”
Along with the message from the God of Acting, Han Seong-tae realized exactly which pose he’d just struck.
And in that instant, his faith in the God of Acting wavered—just a tiny bit.
Leave a Reply