Actually, director Kim Woo-yong headed to the set in a pretty lighthearted mood.
Commercial shoots are usually fast-paced and only require a solid day of focus, so they're way less stressful than filming a movie.
Especially when the client has already nailed down the concept beforehand, like this time—all you have to do is hit the marks they want.
Today was basically a cushy gig.
"Yes, keep the camera moving."
Sure, there'd been some back-and-forth during the production meetings about whether to go with CG or real people, but he was always glad to get commercial work.
With only his university lectures keeping him afloat, the occasional directing gigs that came in were a welcome lifeline for his living expenses.
He'd made one indie film and two commercial films. One of them had finally crossed the break-even point, and his name had started to spread little by little.
But now, four years later, he still had no follow-up project in sight—not even a screenplay that had made any real progress.
He watched fellow assistant directors from his circle make their directorial debuts one by one and start making names for themselves, and the impatience kept building inside him. But what could he do?
Even with a solid script, making a film ultimately comes down to luck.
"Okay, move left! Follicle mite coming in. It's popping up—now! Attack!"
Just get through today's shoot safely, upload the rough cut, and that's that.
He'd film the line of follicle army members moving in formation, make sure to nail the special close-ups the client had emphasized, and that would be more than enough for one day.
Let go a little, give the client what they want—that's how it always was for him on commercial sets.
That was the plan, anyway...
"Cut! Excuse me, can we do one more take? Could you get a close-up on that person's upper body?"
Somehow, he found himself pouring in way more effort and passion than necessary.
"Ready, action!"
He'd already shot all the follicle army scenes from the storyboard, but he kept wanting more.
And it was all because of that one follicle—number 23.
'Who is that person?'
Director Kim Woo-yong's gaze kept drifting back to follicle number 23. Even though thirty-odd people were moving at once, all just repeating their assigned motions.
It wasn't like the acting was particularly flashy or the movements noticeably exaggerated—but there was definitely something there, something he couldn't quite put into words.
It was more like every single move that person made had this strangely living, breathing quality to it.
He himself found it amusing to say that he'd been drawn in by a follicle army character, but despite that, his gaze kept pulling back to that person.
"Why do I feel like my hair's falling out?"
The script supervisor, catching the director's muttered remark, followed up in a low voice.
"Uh... me too, Director. Especially when I look at that one."
Her finger pointed toward follicle number 23—Shin Hyun-mo. The very person Kim Woo-yong had been watching all along.
"You too?"
It seemed even the script supervisor found his movements out of the ordinary. So it wasn't just something Kim Woo-yong alone was picking up on.
"Oh, so that's why you singled him out, Director. But it's kind of funny, isn't it? Feeling this way over a follicle character."
"Tell me about it."
It wasn't like they were shooting some big-budget epic, nor were they watching an actor perform—this was just an extra, after all.
"Cut! Okay! Good!"
Director Kim Woo-yong finally called out the OK.
"Director, so we're going with one OK on the extra cuts, right?"
As the script supervisor asked, Kim Woo-yong smoothed his hair and nodded.
"Yeah. And mark the third take from just before—the one we kept. That one looked good too."
"Got it. So the follicle scenes are really done now."
"Yeah. Let's move on to the solo close-ups for the problematic scalp."
And with that, the follicle scene shoot wrapped up, extra takes and all.
Including the waiting, the makeup, more waiting, and the rehearsals, the prep alone had taken five hours—but the actual shoot lasted just forty minutes.
Of course, that was thanks to the follicle army's intense focus and teamwork, all driven by their shared goal of finishing fast.
"The follicle part is done, great work everyone!"
"Whoa!"
A cheer erupted from the follicle army at the thought of finally shedding their costumes. It sounded like they'd successfully pulled off a "skip the final chant" victory.
"What the..."
Hyun-mo, on the other hand, was still dazed.
'What just happened...?'
How absurd could this get?
Hyun-mo kept mulling over the ridiculous situation. That absurd stage direction. The moment he read that sentence, something unbelievable happened.
[You will be connected to the senses and emotions of Extra Role No. 23, the Follicle.]
The moment he read those nonsensical words about being connected to a follicle's senses and emotions, his vision began to shift. It felt like being in a dream, or maybe like recalling a memory from long ago.
'Connected to senses and emotions... what the... it's so vivid...'
All he'd done was move according to the script—follow the rhythm, hit his marks, and go through the motions. But he could feel it: the thinning, the drying out, the sebaceous glands tightening... even the creepy sensation of someone lightly scratching with a fingernail. In the middle of all that, the sheer desperation of clinging to the scalp not to fall out left him utterly dazed. It was so vivid, like being under hypnosis—and it made him feel downright filthy.
'This is insane...'
Even now, as he stood in line to change out of his costume, the aftertaste hadn't faded. He could still feel himself crawling across a parched, dry scalp.
This was the first time he'd ever felt like he was actually acting.
Because it made him realize that everything he'd done before this wasn't really acting at all.
'But why did it have to be a follicle role that made me realize that...'
Sure, there were things to be frustrated about, and the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth. But still, he felt like he'd finally gotten at least a small glimpse of what it really meant to act.
"What are you doing, Hyun-mo? Come on over here. It's crowded inside, so we'll change in the van."
"Ah, yes."
At the sound of Yu Jeong-gon's voice, Hyun-mo responded to his name and turned his head—just as Mo Ji-gyeong turned his as well.
Their eyes met. Mo Ji-gyeong lifted his chin slightly and gave a relaxed smile, then let out a dismissive scoff, turned away, and resumed his conversation with a staff member.
"Haha... So, should I just go with this? 'For your follicles!'—something like that?"
"Oh! That's perfect, Mr. Lead Actor!"
Mo Ji-gyeong deliberately raised his voice to make sure everyone heard, as if to remind Hyun-mo—and everyone else—that he was the star, while Hyun-mo was just a lowly extra.
How childish. But Hyun-mo couldn't argue back.
It felt like the inside of the studio and the outside were divided by an invisible wall. For the first time in his life, Hyun-mo felt like he was standing on the outside of that wall. Having always lived on the inside, he'd never given much thought to how things looked from out here—and now he'd gone and found out, whether he wanted to or not.
'Pathetic jerk.'
He should've knocked Mo Ji-gyeong down a peg. Too bad the shoot was already over, so there was nothing he could do about it now.
'If he pulls that kind of crap again next time, I won't go easy on him. Lucky bastard...'
Whatever. That insufferable Mo Ji-gyeong could go ahead and dig up people's weaknesses and use them to climb up—that was just his nature. People like that eventually dig their own graves anyway. No need for Hyun-mo to get his hands dirty.
"Hyun-mo, what are you doing? Hurry up and change so we can go get paid."
"Yes."
"By the way, Hyun-mo, you were really into it today. Weren't you trying a little too hard?"
Too hard... yeah, he had been, whether he meant to or not. He'd gone and poured his soul into that follicle, delivering some ridiculously intense performance.
"...It was fun, I guess... yeah."
"Well, anything's fun if you give it your all."
"Is everyone inside changing?"
"Yeah, yeah. They'll be out soon."
The air outside was cooler than inside the studio. The sweat that had been streaming down his face had already dried, and a faint smell of grass brushed past his nose with the breeze.
"Oh! Excuse me, follicle number 23!"
"Yes?"
It was one of the crew members standing next to the director.
"You haven't changed out of your costume yet, have you?"
"No, I haven't... why?"
He wondered why they were calling him now that everything was already wrapped up.
"If you don't mind, would you be able to shoot a little more with actor Mo Ji-gyeong right now? An additional scene came up, and Mo Ji-gyeong specifically asked for you by name."
"Me?"
"Yes, you'd just need to stand next to him and do a few reactions."
Well, well.
Apparently, Mo Ji-gyeong had no intention of letting Hyun-mo off easy. He probably wanted to stick him right beside him and make a fool out of him.
"Hmm..."
As Hyun-mo hesitated for a moment, the crew member quickly made an offer.
"I'll throw in an extra 50,000 won."
"50,000 won?"
An extra 50,000 won.
Those words sent Hyun-mo's resolve into a tailspin. Never in his life did he think the day would come when his heart would waver over 50,000 won.
"Sure, why not."
Mo Ji-gyeong, you started this.
Hyun-mo had been ready to let the earlier insult slide, but no — the guy just had to go and crawl his way straight into hell.
Hyun-mo looked at Mo Ji-gyeong inside the studio and smiled a knowing smile.
"Let's go."
His mind was so consumed with thoughts of how he'd expose Mo Ji-gyeong's weak spots that he completely forgot how long he'd been holding in his need for the bathroom.
***
Meanwhile, in the VIP room at the hospital where Koo Hyun-mo was admitted.
"Chairman."
The door opened, and Heo, the manager who had been keeping watch by Koo Hyun-mo's side, rose to his feet.
"Manager Heo."
The woman who entered was unmistakably refined — elegance and class radiated from her at a single glance. With her dignified appearance, she could easily pass for a middle-aged actress. She was none other than Koo Hyun-mo's mother, Choi Sung-ae.
"This is..."
Her slow, measured gaze shifted calmly from Manager Heo to Koo Hyun-mo.
Koo Hyun-mo lay motionless, hooked up to an oxygen mask, as if he might never wake again.
"What is this, all of a sudden? Hyun-mo, what happened?"
Even with her own son lying there unconscious, her face betrayed no hint of alarm.
The doctors had listed off frightening terms: cerebral hemorrhage, compression of the midbrain and medulla oblongata. They said the emergency surgery had been successful, but that it remained to be seen when — or if — Koo Hyun-mo would regain consciousness.
"They said it was a cerebral hemorrhage. It happened out of nowhere. He collapsed at Oh Jung-seop's funeral hall..."
"Why on earth did you take him there?"
"I know he had a grudge against Oh Jung-seop, but I took him there for image management purposes. Anyway, they rushed him into surgery, but it doesn't look good. He's still unconscious."
"So it's serious, then?"
"Sigh... looks that way. So the movie he was filming... and the commercials... they're all going to fall through one by one..."
At Manager Heo's words, Choi Sung-ae's brow furrowed deeply.
"The investment."
"...Excuse me?"
"The money we brought in for this film. If Hyun-mo can't come back, what happens then? They'll pull it all out?"
Manager Heo felt a chill run down his spine at that.
Choi Sung-ae.
He'd always known she viewed her own son as nothing more than a tool for her own gain, but he never expected her to be this indifferent.
"W-well, we haven't gotten to that part yet..."
"That investment—we took a cut in the middle, didn't we? We'll have to give it back. Manager Heo, make sure you confirm everything. Keep me posted on all developments."
"Ah, yes..."
He thought that would be the end of it, but Choi Sung-ae furrowed her brow again at Manager Heo.
"And you. Can't you control him properly? How have you been managing him?"
"No, really... *Noonim! There were no issues. He might've been a little sleep-deprived, but his condition had been fine lately..." (T/N: *A formal way for a man to call someone big sister)
"Don't call me that outside. Watch your language."
"Ah, right. But seriously..."
Manager Heo felt wronged. He'd been taking such good care of Hyun-mo all this time.
There had been no warning signs of poor health. Sure, Hyun-mo had been on a strict weight management regimen lately because of the film shoot, but he'd been exercising regularly, eating clean, and his health checkup last year had come back clean.
This had come out of nowhere—like a car accident.
"Alright, enough. Where's Hyun-mo's phone?"
"Huh? Oh, here..."
Manager Heo pulled the phone from Hyun-mo's belongings and handed it to Choi Sung-ae.
"But why do you need Hyun-mo's phone...?"
He wondered why she was asking for the phone.
Then, in an instant, Choi Sung-ae's gaze sharpened.
"Why else..."
A slow, sly smile spread across her lips.
"It's right here — my son's fortune."