Chapter : 19
“People with no real talent are always the quickest to pick up on things.”
Even after such a blunt insult, the woman’s expression didn’t change.
That unshaken calm made Pa Tae-young lose his words for a moment before he reluctantly accepted the bouquet of baby’s breath she handed over.
“Still, thanks for bringing these. The studio’s been reeking all day.”
The assistant swiftly took the bouquet and placed it into a vase.
Tae-young, who had an oddly sensitive sense of smell, only liked one scent — baby’s breath.
He couldn’t even describe what kind of fragrance it was, exactly, but he liked it.
Watching the flowers being arranged, Tae-young walked over to where the camera was set up.
“I hate people who leech off others without skill. And I don’t like wasting time. We’ll go for just ten shots.”
“Yes, understood.”
He had already heard from Kim-Kim why she had vanished for five years. Not that he cared much. Who in this world doesn’t have their own story?
The woman in front of him — Yoon Hae-in — was different from Han So-yi. She was captivating.
No, more than that — she was seductive.
Beyond the simple word beautiful, there was something mysterious and magnetic about her presence that drew people in.
Her skin was so fair it almost begged to be touched.
“I won’t be giving any directions. Just do what you feel like doing.”
“Alright, I will.”
As Tae-young moved behind the camera lens, Hae-in sat down on the floor, hugging her knees.
She’s sitting on the floor?
Even from the first shot, there was something unusual about her.
As he watched her, trying to see what pose or expression she’d choose next, he couldn’t help but widen his eyes in surprise.
With her left arm, she held her knees tightly, while her right hand rested behind her neck.
The way she hugged her knees looked lonely, but the gaze she lifted toward the camera, her hand at her nape — that was provocative.
What the hell… Has it really been five years since she last stood in front of a camera?
Without realizing it, he pressed the shutter. Then he peeked over the lens again — and she had already moved into a new pose. She was every bit a professional.
“Good, good! Your eyes are alive! A little more to the right!”
He’d said he wouldn’t direct her just five minutes ago — yet now Tae-young was shouting directions without even realizing it.
Even with his excited voice ringing through the studio, Hae-in stayed calm, adjusting her posture and expression.
Neither stiff nor overly eager — she was simply doing her role, perfectly.
Tae-young’s fingers moved faster on the shutter.
Slowly closing her eyes, Hae-in lifted her chin.
The right side of her face was bathed in autumn sunlight, while the left was shaded — a strange duality that was mesmerizing.
The side lit by sunlight was bright; the shadowed side looked sad.
Both Tae-young and Kim-Kim held their breath as they watched her.
“Okay, cut!”
Kim-Kim hurried to help Hae-in to her feet.
Tae-young, his expression much softer now, pulled up a small chair beside him.
“I thought you got this gig just through a recommendation because your skills were crap…”
But the results were astonishing.
Now he understood why Yoon Hae-in had been cast for <Illusion>.
Contrasted with her pure appearance, her expressions before the camera were pure seduction.
Her untainted image was fresh — like looking at a blank, white canvas.
“There are a few cuts I’ll have to throw out, but overall — it’s excellent. Way better than I expected.”
Of course it was.
She already knew what kind of expression Pa Tae-young wanted to capture.
Baek Ah-yeon had cursed Tae-young more than almost anyone else.
For the three years Hae-in had spent by Ah-yeon’s side, she had heard countless stories about him.
She didn’t know much about underwater filming, but she did know exactly what kind of image that photographer had once sought in Ah-yeon.
And she had stayed up all night practicing for it.
“Miss Yoon Hae-in, do you know how to swim? Oh, it’s fine if you don’t. Are you afraid of water?”
Nice.
The first button had fastened more easily than he’d expected.
* * *
Yongin’s Dae Jang Geum Park — a place filled with historical drama sets.
But today, something special was being filmed here instead of a period piece.
As they passed through the massive east gate of the complex, four huge water trucks came into view.
In their center stood a water tank so large its size was hard to grasp.
The reinforced glass tank was easily over five meters wide.
Staff members hurried to fill it with water, and with the rain pouring down on the outdoor set, the whole place felt like an ocean.
“It’s still raining outside,” said Ga-young as she came close to Hae-in, who was getting her makeup done in a temporary waiting room.
“Hey, bring me the other shadow palette,” Ga-young called out.
Apparently the shadow she’d already applied wasn’t enough.
She rolled up her sleeves and got to work herself, her hands moving so quickly that Hae-in flinched.
“Ga-young, but isn’t this too much makeup for an underwater shoot?”
“It’s fine, fine — it’s waterproof.”
“…Ah— I think some eyeshadow got in my eye. It stings.”
“It’s fine! A little redness makes it look more passionate. Hold still.”
With her quick strokes, Ga-young layered colors across Hae-in’s face.
A cool, watery hue of shadow shimmered faintly above her lids, while a soft pink flush bloomed on her cheeks.
“Hair team! Ji-ah, you can start on Hae-in’s hair now!”
Once she entered the water, her hair would loosen quickly anyway.
The key was to hold the style for five minutes — just long enough for the heavily sprayed strands to dissolve naturally.
Within that brief window, she had to complete her facial performance.
When the hair was done, Hae-in changed into the dress the wardrobe team had prepared — and the room filled with gasps.
The tight black gown, shaped like a mermaid’s tail, made her look like a living siren.
Then, the door opened. A staff member entered.
“Miss Yoon Hae-in! Are you ready?”
“Ah, yes! Almost done — I’ll be out in three minutes.”
After one last check of her hair and makeup, Ga-young grabbed her slender wrist and led her out of the waiting room.
Dressed in that eerily beautiful black gown that clashed with her pure image, Hae-in began walking toward the set.
* * *
“Wow. It’s f***ing huge. How much money did they blow making this thing?”
Baek Ah-yeon sat in a chair her manager had brought over, staring at the massive water tank.
Then she looked around.
The staff, apparently unaware that she was there, busily moved about their work without paying her any mind.
A crane with lighting fixtures was being raised over the tank, and reflectors were set up to replace the natural sunlight.
The extravagant setup — all of it for Yoon Hae-in — made Ah-yeon feel sick.
“Hey, gimme a cigarette,” she said, reaching a hand out toward her road manager, Sang-hyuk.
He looked startled.
Ah-yeon had even canceled her own schedule just to come watch this shoot.
Considering that CEO Ong had been dismissed and her position at AJ Entertainment was already weakening, Sang-hyuk couldn’t help feeling anxious.
And now she wanted to smoke — here of all places?
“There are a lot of people walking around here. Maybe you should wait and smoke in the parking lot—”
“Oh, who cares. It’s raining anyway — I’ve got an umbrella. Hey, lower it a bit.”
Smoking actors or staff on set weren’t rare, really.
As long as no one saw her face, no one would realize it was Baek Ah-yeon.
The dark umbrella hid her well, the gloomy weather doing the rest.
Convinced by his own weak logic, Sang-hyuk fished a cigarette and lighter from his pocket.
Ah-yeon’s slim cigarettes, with their faint fruity scent, didn’t smell strong.
She took it casually between her fingers, and as Sang-hyuk lit it for her, she exhaled a dreamy plume of smoke.
“Haah… He used to call me his muse, and now he’s having fun with Yoon Hae-in instead?
That f***ing bastard.”
