Chapter 150: Mistake
A makeshift dressing room had been set up. It was packed not only with staff but also with the actors’ and their families’ belongings, stacked neatly.
Muyoung hummed a tune as he got his makeup done. He caught Gyeongmin’s eyes in the mirror, staring at him from behind.
“What’s up? Did I do something wrong?”
“Huh? No.”
Gyeongmin had been giving him suspicious looks for a while now, and even though Muyoung tried not to notice, the back of his neck felt prickly.
‘What’s up with him?’
Gyeongmin mumbled something, but his mind was in a jumble.
Ever since he realized that Muyoung had bowed to a cemetery in broad daylight.
It was like his whole body was covered in goosebumps. All the weird things Muyoung had done kept popping into his mind.
‘He performed a ritual by himself during the filming of Street Sunlight, and his acting was spot on, like he was possessed. Then there was his reaction on that horror variety show, and his performance…’
The sun was setting.
Gyeongmin couldn’t even watch Surprise TV, but the actor beside him was acting so strange, it was driving him crazy.
“Hey, Muyoung.”
“Yeah?”
His heart pounding, Gyeongmin called out to Muyoung.
“You’re not, like, a ghost, are you?”
“……?”
He was so shocked that he forgot to say, “What you see.”
In the middle of the night, with no warning, Muyoung and the stylist turned to look at him at the same time.
The stylist’s expression was priceless, but Muyoung just blinked, unfazed.
“Hehehe—did it show?”
Muyoung jokingly held up his hands.
“Come on, it’s still daylight. That was lame.”
“Right? He does that sometimes.”
“Muyoung, close your eyes.”
And then, as if he’d just heard nonsense, he casually continued with the makeup. Muyoung checked his face in the mirror, satisfied.
“Hmm. My makeup looks great today.”
“When does it not?”
The stylist laughed, then pulled back the tent flap and left. Muyoung needed to change his clothes. He took off his top and held out his hand to Gyeongmin.
“Hyung?”
What are you doing, spacing out?
“Can you hand me my clothes?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“That’s weird. Seriously.”
Muyoung changed into blue sweatpants, saying, “The best part about this project is that I don’t have to worry about my outfit. I’ll be wearing this from the first episode to the last.”
“Muyoung, can you actually see ghosts?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah.”
Muyoung zipped up his pants and replied nonchalantly. Gyeongmin almost nodded, like, “Oh, okay.”
“……?!”
“I just see things sometimes.”
But in this line of work, it wasn’t uncommon, right?
They say there’s a thin line between shamans and entertainers.
Muyoung laughed, straightening his clothes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“……You didn’t ask.”
Oh.
That was true, so Gyeongmin shut up.
He wasn’t going to talk about the paranormal stuff, but this much was fine, right? And how many people would actually believe him anyway?
Look, Gyeongmin’s eyebrows are shooting up.
“You don’t believe me.”
“You’re acting right now, aren’t you?”
“Hahaha. No way!”
“Liar. You little brat. I’m getting chills, and you’re just messing around.”
“Whoa! Hahaha!”
When Gyeongmin looked like he was about to scold him, Muyoung dashed out of the tent.
“Huh?”
But there were a lot more onlookers—ghosts—than before.
They were still staring in this direction, their expressions blank, filled with anger. Pure hostility.
‘What’s going on?’
Just as Muyoung was about to approach them, Gyeongmin, who had followed him out, grabbed the back of his neck.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?”
“Huh? I—”
“We’ve got a shoot. Let’s work first, then play, okay?”
“Aww, I wasn’t playing.”
In a corner of the set, Jeonggil, who had just finished his scene as Nox, sat slumped over.
Sweat dripped from his face as he took off his helmet. His black makeup was smudged and messy.
“Are you done, sir?”
“Yeah. Just the solo scene. Now we shoot together.”
“Are you playing all the Nox roles?”
“Yep. It’s cheaper this way.”
Jeonggil whispered jokingly. They’d spent all their money building the set, so they were cutting corners on everything else.
“Muyoung, Jinseo! Over here.”
“Yes! Finally! My first scene!”
“Jeonggil, go get your makeup redone.”
“Got it.”
The assistant director hurriedly got things moving. The first scene they were going to shoot was—
“We’ll start with Scene 11. It’s where Kido and Garem meet for the first time. They awkwardly say hello, and then Kido sees Nox running toward them from behind. We’ll cut right after the surprised expression.”
“And Scene 12 after that?”
“Yeah, until they run into the building together.”
It was a scene with Jeonggil, Jinseo, and Muyoung.
The two actors, who had been briefed on the blocking and direction, waited for Jeonggil, going over their lines.
“Hi. Do you live here?”
“Yeah. Well, I guess you could say that.”
“Uh… By the way, where’s the supermarket? I came from the guesthouse over there, and they said there was a supermarket nearby.”
“Supermarket? Uh, it’s more of a general store. They sell rice and beans. Whatever you’re looking for, you’ll have to go outside.”
Muyoung and Jinseo went over their lines one by one. Time was money on set, so their goal was to get it right in one take.
“Oh, I see.”
Jinseo, who was delivering her line, glanced at Muyoung.
She’d watched his acting over and over again, from The Plague to Street Sunlight. She’d seen him in person during the table read, and now she was face-to-face with him again.
He was good.
There was no denying that.
He was definitely talented, maybe even more than people said.
But honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was the “genius” Yuchan had described. There was nothing particularly impressive that made her agree with the praise.
‘Maybe he’s different in front of the camera?’
He became an instant star as soon as he debuted, so he must have had some charm. She just didn’t know what it was yet.
‘It’s not just his looks.’
He was handsome, though. So handsome it was embarrassing to make eye contact.
Then Muyoung’s expression changed suddenly.
Like he’d seen something unusual behind her.
“……?”
Startled, Jinseo turned around, but there was nothing there. Just an open field. She let out a laugh of surprise.
“You got me!”
“Huh?”
“I thought there was actually something behind me.”
His facial muscles and the way his eyes moved were so natural. Jinseo turned back, curious, and continued her lines.
But…
‘Why?’
Muyoung was serious.
He’d seen a group of ghosts slowly approaching from behind, their expressions majestic and furious, like wronged peasants.
“Oh…”
If they blended in with the crowd, it wouldn’t be a big deal, as long as they didn’t cause any trouble.
But the way they were acting, it looked like someone was about to get dragged to the afterlife.
“Stand by, everyone!”
“Yes! Let’s go, Muyoung.”
Annoying, but what could he do?
Muyoung followed Jinseo onto the set.
The lights and reflectors were in place, and the slate operator waited for the director’s signal.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
“Rolling!”
“Action!”
The lines were simple, flowing smoothly like a river, with no obstacles.
“Cut! That’s a wrap!”
But Muyoung, who’d noticed the ghosts’ strange behavior, couldn’t focus completely.
Jinseo noticed his distracted state.
“You okay? What’s going on?”
The kid wasn’t focused at all.
If this was his best, she’d be pretty disappointed. Muyoung just stood there, spaced out, then called over the director.
“Director.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“What time are we shooting until today?”
“All night.”
Muyoung had seen all kinds of ghosts.
Some were missing body parts, some played pranks, and some wandered restlessly. But he’d never seen an angry mob like this.
Plus…
‘Is that… smog?’
Their hostility was so intense it was creating a thin smog. If they kept filming like this, something bad was going to happen.
“Uh, Muyoung?”
Jinseo urged him to focus, but he was stumped, scratching his head.
Then,
Boom!
“Ouch! Careful!”
“You okay?”
“Can someone help over here?”
“Who knocked that over? Why did it just fall like that?”
“No one was there.”
A stack of camera cases toppled over, rolling across the floor. They were empty, but made of solid iron, so they were pretty heavy.
“What happened?”
Muyoung, frowning, walked over. The staff laughed, saying it was no big deal.
“Must’ve been the wind.”
“Good thing no one was standing next to it.”
“Watch out. Don’t get hurt on the first day.”
“Don’t stack them so high. Put them to the side.”
But Muyoung wasn’t asking the staff.
He was asking the ghost standing stiffly beside him. Why knock over something that was just sitting there?
“Alright, let’s reset.”
“Yeah, I’ll clean this up.”
Everyone thought it was just a little accident.
But then, weirdly, little accidents kept happening.
“Whoa! Hold on. The cord’s loose.”
“Ah! Grab it! Grab it!”
“Who left this here? What if someone trips? Rookie, are you trying to mess up again?”
“It wasn’t me.”
“Director, the lights just went out.”
“Give me a second!”
Shooting one scene was turning into a nightmare.
The set was chaos, beyond chaotic. It was a total letdown for the first day of filming.
Jinseo ran her hands through her hair, trying to keep her cool, while Muyoung just stood there, looking around.
“Today’s just not our day.”
“Yeah…”
In Muyoung’s eyes, it was absolute mayhem.
He could see the ghosts causing trouble everywhere, making his head spin. But he had to figure out why they were so angry.
‘Otherwise, not just today, but the whole shoot’s in trouble.’
They’d built the set right here, so they couldn’t move it. He walked past Jinseo, checking out the busy set.
We must’ve done something wrong…
“Maybe we should’ve performed a ritual. Hah.”
Someone joked.
Director Changmin, who’d studied film abroad and was a devout Christian, didn’t believe in local spiritual practices, so they’d skipped the pre-shoot ritual.
“Nah, come on.”
“Well, the first day’s been bumpy, so hopefully, it’s all smooth sailing from here.”
“Wait, why did this cord snap? Seriously?”
“I don’t know. It was fine a second ago.”
Director Changmin checked the equipment, laughing in disbelief. Muyoung wandered around, listening to them talk, when he locked eyes with an old man staring right at him.
‘Did we do something wrong?’
When he asked silently, the old man turned without a word and walked toward the temporary tent. The other ghosts, who’d been causing chaos, suddenly stopped.
“……?”
Muyoung followed the old man, peeking behind the tent.
He found something, hesitated, and let out a deep sigh.
“Oh my God.”
Then he called out loudly to the director and staff, his voice showing how ridiculous he thought the situation was.
“Director! AD! Anyone, come quick!”
“What’s going on? What happened?”
A few staff members nearby rushed over. Muyoung looked like he had a headache, rubbing his temples.
“I think we need to perform a ritual.”
He gestured for them to look.
The tent ropes were tied to a long stone, worn smooth by time…
“That’s a gravestone.”
It marked someone’s grave.
The makeshift dressing room tent had been set up right on top of someone’s body.