Because of the monsoon the shoot was put on hold, giving the crew and cast—Director Gyeong included—an unexpected break of several days.
Park Jun‑sik finally got some real sleep. His son kept whining beside him, but each time Park mumbled “Let me nap a little longer and I’ll play with you,” winning a few more minutes of peace.
Eun-kyung shouted from the kitchen,“Park Seojin! Stop bothering Dad!”
Seojin was sniffling. “But… Dad’s home for the first time in ages…”
Hearing his son about to cry, Park tossed the blanket aside and sat up—only to hear his wife.
“Daddy came home from work, right? You should be patient. We’ll get something tasty later—how about fried chicken?”
Seojin replied: “Chicken? Okay, then I’ll let him sleep!”
Park chuckled. Hurt his pride that chicken outranked him, but grateful for the extra sleep he lay back down.
Brr‑ri‑ring.
The phone vibrated. One glance at the caller ID made him grimace:
[Lee Dae‑hoon Sunbae]
He cleared his throat, then answered.
“Hello, Sunbae‑nim.”
“Jun‑sik! Remember I said we’d grab a drink sometime? Shoot’s off today—come out. I’ll treat you like a proper senior should. Oh, Song Seong‑woo’s here too.”
Hearing Seong‑woo froze Park.
“You two seem to have some misunderstanding. I’ll clear it up. Get over here.” said Dae‑hoon.
Seong‑woo can be heard in the background. “Hurry up, idiot.”
Park sighed after hanging up; his wife had opened the door and was watching with concern.
“Are you really going?”
“They’re still seniors… and bad rumors wouldn’t help.”
“Okay—just be home before Seojin sulks again.”
He washed quickly, then hesitated over clothes. Director Gyeong’s advice echoed:
“Dress neatly. In this business people size you up at a glance—show weakness and they’ll bite.”
So he put on the new outfit he’d bought with his signing bonus.
Another memory surfaced:
“Actors, singers—unless they’re proven decent, don’t meet anyone privately. If you absolutely must, call me first. I don’t want my movie blown up by some scandal.”
Why the director obsessed over private life he didn’t know, but it felt caring in a strange way.
Eun‑kyung laughed at him smiling to himself.
“Quit grinning over another man in front of your wife and get going.”
“Yes, ma’am—back soon.”
Their son had barricaded himself in his room.
“Seojin! Daddy will be quick. I’ll buy you a top‑spinner!”
Rummaging sounds, then the door cracked open; a note slid out:
[“Top Blade — Kang Min Dragon V”]
“Buy this and I’ll forgive you!”
Park left the house. The humid monsoon evening air felt unpleasant.
While waiting for the bus he fiddled with his phone—Director Gyeong’s warning still in his ears.
“Oh, whatever—he saved my family. I’ll be a kid and call him.”
He dialed.
“Helloo?” Gyeong said groggily.
“Director, it’s Park Jun‑sik. Is this a bad time…?”
“For you? Never! You’re the man who’ll save my movie!”
Jun‑seong’s drunken “Hear, hear!” echoed in the background.
Park apologized for interrupting, then explained Dae‑hoon’s invitation.
“Lee Dae‑hoon? Drinking instead of rehearsing? …Who else is there?” Gyeong was finally sober.
“Song Seong‑woo, from my old troupe.”
“Send me the address. We’re coming.”
“Really, that’s not—” Click.
The line went dead.
Lee Dae‑hoon had booked a private room in an upscale bar—expensive, but Seong‑woo had said they’d need privacy.
“You said Park’s a lousy actor, but the crew keeps praising him. Annoying.” said Dae‑hoon.
Seong‑woo grinned.
“Good actor? My ass.”
He flaunted the hand that had slapped Park.
“You hit him for no reason?”
“You make a reason. Show him who’s boss.”
They planned to get Park drunk, take compromising photos with some random woman, and ruin his image after the film’s release.
Just then Park arrived, impeccably dressed.
Park bowed.
“Good evening, Sunbae‑nims.”
Seong‑woo rolled his wrist, stood, and sneered.
“Kept seniors waiting, huh? Crawl here?”
Smack!
Alcohol splashed as he slapped Park’s cheek.
“Don’t just say sorry—feel it. Now fetch more beer.”
“Yes, sir”, replied Park.
While Park went to the bar, Dae‑hoon laughed.
“Is this the army? Could’ve called a waiter.”
“It’s hierarchy—learn it. One word and juniors shake.”
“Tonight’s sacrifice is Park, then?”
“Liquor him up, snap a few pics—once the movie’s out of theaters we leak them. Career over.”
Meanwhile a taxi screeched to the bar “Paradise.” Inside, black‑and‑white marble gleamed. A burly bald host eyed them.
“Is Lee Dae‑hoon here?”
“Room 4. This way, Director Gyeong—loved Night!”
Gyeong and Jun‑seong hurried down the corridor. Gyeong flung open the door.
Inside, Seong‑woo was pouring liquor over Park’s head, cackling.
Gyeong said icily,“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
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