Chapter 40: What’s good is good
A major accident almost occurred just three days after filming began. And it was in a place with a child. Muyoung shook off the chills creeping up his spine and looked at the spot where the malevolent spirit had disappeared.
‘Did it help me?’
Or was it just something I witnessed and was able to stop?
Whatever it was, Muyoung felt relieved and grateful that he had been able to see a malevolent spirit for the first time in his life.
“Director! Are you done checking over there?”
“Yeah! Just to be safe, check everything thoroughly.”
“It’s okay over here!”
All work came to a halt while the lighting team checked the ceiling. Everyone watched them with worried expressions.
“Uh, Director Jin Gyeongmun.”
The lighting director, who had finished the inspection, came over, wiping his sweat.
Lighting and sound are usually outsourced by the production company. They hold important positions on set, which means they are both equal and yet have a clear hierarchical relationship.
“I don’t know what happened, but we were really careful when we installed it.”
Especially when safety issues caused by negligence are involved, the relationship between the superior and subordinate becomes even more pronounced.
“If you were careful, why was it loose?”
Jin Gyeongmun asked, putting his hand on his waist. His usual gentle demeanor was nowhere to be found, and his eyes were as cold as a goblin’s.
“No, I mean, we did a good job… Maybe the stills team went up there and touched it…”
At his words, the stills photographer took the camera off his neck. An innocent gesture, as if to say that could never be the case.
“I only pressed the shutter. I didn’t touch anything. It’s recorded here, do you want to see?”
Hmm. The lighting director just closed his mouth like a bee with honey. Jin Gyeongmun just kept pressing on his throbbing temples.
“It’s not just anything, it’s the rail—”
He took a moment to catch his breath, suppressing his rising irritation.
There were just too many people watching. No matter how much they were an outsourced team, his employees (the lighting team) were watching, and they were colleagues who had worked together for over a decade.
“Sigh. Lighting director, this is a problem.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“Let’s talk about the details separately. And let’s do a thorough inspection this time. Safety first, safety second. Everyone, keep that in mind!”
“Yes. I understand.”
The atmosphere was heavy and awkward, filled with silence. Everyone responded loudly, but they couldn’t move easily, overwhelmed by Jin Gyeongmun’s presence.
Then, Muyoung was the first to pick up the scattered lighting debris behind him.
“Should I just clean this up?”
“Muyoung, I’ll do it. Is there a broom and dustpan?”
The staff, who had been standing idly by, finally started moving.
The icy atmosphere melted away at the sound of Muyoung’s voice.
“Still, it’s really fortunate. No one got hurt, and we prevented an accident. We’ve had a proper stroke of bad luck, so now we just need to focus on filming.”
“That’s right. If it weren’t for Muyoung oppa, we would’ve all been like, ‘Gwaek’!”
Yuna jokingly made a cutting motion across her neck with her hand.
“What would’ve happened if oppa hadn’t seen the lights shaking?”
“Hmm. Someone else would’ve seen it?”
“Not at all!”
The child firmly and resolutely denied Muyoung’s words. Well, it wasn’t a wrong statement. Even if everyone saw the shaking, only Muyoung and the stills photographer had confirmed it directly.
“Director, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Jin Gyeongmun gestured to the lighting director and turned around. As he walked out of the warehouse, he gently placed his hand on Muyoung’s shoulder.
“Anyway, you did well, Muyoung.”
He didn’t say, ‘If it weren’t for you, something really bad would’ve happened,’ but the director’s gesture was warm.
“Huh? No, what did I do?”
“Assistant director! Clean up here.”
The two directors left, and Muyoung chatted with the staff as they cleaned up the set, with Yuna clinging to his waist like a sticky gum.
“Did they rush to build the set and do a sloppy job?”
“Shh. They’ll hear you.”
“So what if they hear? How long has it been since filming started? Even if you’re in a hurry, there’s a limit.”
Some staff members whispered to the lighting team. The lighting team looked awkward, wandering around in a corner. Their leader, the lighting director, had left with Jin Gyeongmun, leaving them stranded in the middle.
“But Muyoung, how did you see the lights shaking?”
“Yeah. It was so dark that I couldn’t see well.”
“If it had fallen, someone passing by underneath could’ve been hit. Ugh. It would’ve been big news right away.”
The staff grumbled and complained.
They had been so focused on their work. It felt like everything had been shattered—the heightened tension, as well as the hope for a smooth wrap-up.
“That’s right. Oppa kept looking up the whole time.”
At Yuna’s question, Muyoung hesitated for a moment.
“Actually—”
How could he lift the mood? Wanting to boost their sagging spirits, Muyoung recalled Na Geumdong’s words: ‘Seeing a ghost means you’ll hit it big.’
“I kept seeing something strange.”
“What?”
Everyone flinched at his answer.
Their expressions said it was ridiculous. He couldn’t tell the whole truth, but maybe a vague, roundabout explanation would be okay?
“You-you saw it?”
“Eek. That’s scary. Don’t joke around.”
It’s just a little embellishment.
It’s not really a lie, anyway.
“Something kept flashing by, so I looked over. I thought it was a mouse, but it didn’t seem like one.”
“Mice are scary in their own way. What if one suddenly fell from the ceiling? Eek.”
“Sir, you took pictures earlier, right? Let’s take a look.”
“Pictures? Oh. Just a moment.”
The stills photographer turned on the camera and fiddled with it. All the staff huddled together, craning their necks. What could’ve been captured inside the ceiling…?
“Huh!”
“Eek!”
The photographer, who was flipping through the photos, took a sharp breath. Amidst the dangling wires, a white wall was visible. And three black dots.
“Isn’t that a person’s face?”
“Crazy, it really is! Eyes, nose, mouth.”
“Let me see, too.”
“Wow—”
Everyone gasped in surprise and passed the photo around. It’s a ghost, a ghost! Only one of the lights had been shaking, and now this strange photo had been taken!
“Uh… um…?”
Muyoung, who was handed the photo, smiled in confusion and tilted his head. It wasn’t the appearance of the malevolent spirit he had seen. It was just… just…
‘It looks like a stain.’
But the staff’s mood had already taken a sharp turn.
“The ghost must’ve warned us. So we wouldn’t get hurt.”
“Yeah. If it weren’t for this, something really bad would’ve happened.”
“Wow. This is amazing. The shoot’s just started, and this is already happening.”
“Seeing a ghost means you’ll hit it big, but if a ghost saves you, that’s a huge stroke of luck, right? Hahaha!”
The staff kept talking among themselves, adding to the story. Muyoung, watching them quietly, just smiled as he patted Yuna’s head.
‘Yeah. What’s good is good.’
Who cares if it’s a misunderstanding, as long as the outcome is good!
Besides, judging by the pollen trickling through the holes, it was clear that this incident would ultimately bring good luck. The excited staff asked Muyoung,
“Muyoung, are you okay? Aren’t you scared?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“The ghost! You saw a ghost! Did you?”
“Oh, yeah. Hahaha. But since it’s a good thing, I’ll take it positively. It’s like I hit the lottery, just in time for my first shoot tomorrow.”
His bright smile sparkled. How could such a handsome guy have such a gentle personality! The staff admired him inwardly as they gazed at him.
“Oppa’s so great—”
“Me too, me too.”
Yuna rubbed her head against his waist.
“Oh, Yuna. Your makeup’s getting ruined.”
“But why isn’t the director coming back yet?”
“They must have a lot to talk about. Assistant director! Once we clean up here, what’s next?”
“Yuna, come over here. Let’s redo your makeup.”
“Alright, everyone, go back to your positions and wait! As I said, do a thorough safety check on your own, and let’s review the shooting schedule again.”
At the assistant director’s instructions, the staff began moving again, constantly mentioning the ghost captured on camera.
“Yes. I understand!”
The ‘accident’ had transformed into a ‘sign of great luck’ and blended into their midst. The narrow set was filled with much more vibrant energy than before.
“Huh? An accident?”
Meanwhile, the president of Monet production company was startled by Jin Gyeongmun’s sudden call. How long had it been since filming started?
-Fortunately, nothing serious happened, but I can’t let this slide.
Jin Gyeongmun answered, smoking fiercely.
He had even called him to a place with no people, considering his reputation. But look at this? The more they were alone, the more he kept adding unnecessary comments?
-It’s not just about reflecting, there’s no room for improvement. You know how much effort I put into this, since it’s my first work with a child actor, right?
The kids must’ve rushed to meet the installation deadline.
Our team’s youngest is still a college student, so he must’ve made a mistake.
…That damn ‘must’ve,’ ‘must’ve,’ ‘must’ve’! There was no sense of responsibility as a leader. How could he shift the blame onto his subordinates?
-I don’t trust them at all.
“So, are you asking to replace the director, including the staff?”
The work was outsourced, so those teams also belonged to an outsourcing company. They were people who followed the team leader in an apprenticeship style and learned the work. If he were replaced, the outsourcing company would change, and all the people he brought in from below would change too.
“I completely understand how the director feels. Of course, that shouldn’t happen—it’s negligence and poor work ethic! But it’s kind of… you know?”
There would definitely be problems.
First, the process of analyzing the script together and having meetings before starting the project would have to be repeated with a new director.
Second, the delay in filming caused by this could result in additional production costs. They had started early to save money, so this would be problematic.
“If you could just let this slide somehow…”
Jin Gyeongmun’s sigh traveled through the phone line, tap, tap. He fell silent for a moment, as if deep in thought.
-The outsourcing company we’re using now is ‘Save Video,’ right? They have Director Lee Taekyeong there.
A lighting director he had worked with on about two projects.
-I worked with him on
“Are you saying you’ll bring him in?”
-Ask him for me. Then we can replace only the director without changing the staff, since they’re from the same company.
Moreover, he knew from two experiences that the man was an exceptionally good communicator—someone who understood the expression of the work perfectly, like a perfect match.
-Even if he’s replaced, with Director Lee Taekyeong, we can definitely shorten the time. It’ll drag on a bit… but it’s better than filming in a place like this.
“Yes. I understand for now. Did you happen to talk to the lighting director, too?”
-No. He doesn’t know. I was talking to him, and he got frustrated and went to the bathroom. Please tell the company well.
The president of Monet ended the call as politely as possible. Hmm. I wonder if it’ll work. I don’t think they’ll be willing to bring back someone who quit, no matter how much they care.
“Ugh—”
The president ruffled his hair and searched his phone’s contact list for the number of the ‘Save Video’ outsourcing company. His hand trembled slightly as he pressed the call button.
“Sigh. Okay.”
Still, it was Jin Gyeongmun’s complaint, so he had to try!
The president of Monet pressed the call button with a trembling hand.
Ding.
After finishing the call, Jin Gyeongmun stubbed out his cigarette butt.
‘Why isn’t he coming yet?’
Muyoung came out of the warehouse, peeked his head out, and looked for him. Jin Gyeongmun seemed frustrated, letting out a sigh. But what Muyoung saw was pollen being exhaled with his breath.
‘What is it? What did he do?’
The lighting director replacement incident that occurred at the beginning of filming.
The pollen indicated not only the prevention of an accident but also that very incident.