After the “In My Office” casting was announced, articles poured in from every direction.
Spark’s Iwol: “Now I want to act”... a new challenge
Strike while the iron’s hot — “Spark’s Iwol to appear in In My Office”
“I want to show a more mature side...” Spark’s Iwol tries something different
About half of them were backhanded. I’d been a hot topic until recently, so they couldn’t write “Kim Iwol, next-gen wooden-actor idol?” outright, but the stigma around idols acting was clearly still there.
Beside me, skimming headlines, Lee Cheonghyeon said:
“People must not know how good you are at acting. You’re the acting king.”
“Me?”
I hadn’t even received the script yet, and I’d never shown them my audition scene, but Cheonghyeon sounded sure.
When I asked back, he nodded.
“You’re great at that performance where you think, ‘They make me do all kinds of stupid tasks,’ but answer with pep like you’ll give it your all.”
“Cheonghyeon, how about we have our first dorm conflict and do a live stream to air Spark’s ‘internal rift’ episode?”
“You can’t say I’m wrong, can you? I pegged your heart exactly.”
So exactly it felt like a hole in mine. Either I raised him wrong, or he picked up something weird behind my back.
Cheonghyeon snickered and bolted. A sigh rose from my gut.
I should probably lock down a spine for the fan-song lyrics before the script arrives.
I opened my diary like it was my lifeline. This month was packed.
There was a regional festival, and we were supposed to go on “Do.Salm” again...
Wait.
Do.Salm?
“Seongbin, did we have a set date for Do.Salm?”
“I only heard it would be this month. They said the shoot day wasn’t set yet...”
“That day is right now! How have you been, Spark?”
“Wah!”
Before Seongbin even finished, the production team flooded into the practice room. Like a literal high tide.
It was 10 p.m.
They wouldn’t come at this hour just to have a meeting...
“Don’t tell me we’re leaving now?”
“As expected of Iwol. Look at that quick read.”
“Right now?”
Kang Giyeon’s eyes went wide.
“Uh... we look like a mess.”
Park Juu’s voice was plaintive. At least we’d done vocal training instead of choreo, so we didn’t reek of sweat—small mercies.
“It’s fine. Once we get there, you’ll all be a mess anyway.”
The PD smiled kindly as he said it.
But PD, a pearl shines even buried in mud, while a barnacle is just a barnacle even when you pry it off.
A barnacle like me needs mental prep, is what I’m saying.
“Are we heading somewhere right now?”
I got why Choi Jeho ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) sounded thrown. If we left now, we could reach most places in the country before sunrise.
What do people usually do at night?
We already did the street-cleaning episode. Rail maintenance? Or a night shift at a PC café as an extension of the café arc?
While I was working the angles, I yanked a pouch from my bag.
And shoved motion-sickness pills at Park Juu.
“This is definitely long-distance. Take it now.”
“Mm...”
He gulped them down like spring water. He must’ve sensed mortal danger too.
“All right, Spark! We’ve got a long way to go! Let’s head out!”
“Yes!”
We filed into the van with military precision. Cameras were mounted all over, who knows when.
“What are we doing once we get there?”
GiYEON asked while buckling in.
“My mom stays late at the lab if test results aren’t in.”
“What could we possibly help with at a lab?”
For once, Jeho was right. None of us even has a bachelor’s anymore, let alone a master’s or PhD.
“Maybe squid fishing?”
“That sounds plausible...!”
GiYEON tossed in a guess. It did sound plausible, but Seongbin pushed back.
“Then we should’ve left earlier. We’d have to get to Ulleungdo. It’s the tail end of the season.”
“How do you know the squid season?”
“I saw it on the news.”
I doubt the anchor expected an idol to be keeping up on squid season segments.
While we thought it through, the van headed south.
Something you do on calm autumn nights in the southern region, starting at dawn or before.
Appearance doesn’t matter, so no makeup; tough enough to satisfy viewers but simple enough for kids to do; mostly labor.
And something you’d go at night even if lighting is a pain.
In other words, something you have to match to a particular time...
“The mudflats.”
“Huh?”
We’re going to the mudflats, geniuses.
After a long drive, we reached Mokpo. Pitch-black in every direction. The air smelled briny.
As we got out one by one, the PD came over.
“I heard you figured it out midway?”
“Yeah, Iwol hyung...”
“The audio director freaked out that no one slept. It’s a long haul—should’ve caught some shut-eye.”
We have a rule: if there’s a camera, Spark doesn’t sleep. Unless it’s an irresistible force—motion sickness, injury, acute indigestion, a 24-hour no-sleep day—we keep it together.
“How’d the driver get here without even setting the nav? Did our script leak?”
“Heh, who knows.”
I’m smiling on the outside and crying inside. There’s no shoot with worse ROI than mudflats.
Mudflat labor’s intensity is inversely proportional to usable footage. Aside from a few pratfalls up front, fun moments are hard to squeeze out, and the muck slows everything to a crawl.
There’s exactly one benefit for Spark here: a full-body natural mud pack.
They must’ve put a whole group in because one regular guest doing this alone would just turn into a documentary.
I groaned inwardly while we formed up under the lights.
Once the site was set, the PD kicked things off.
“So? Do you have a feel for what you’ll be doing today?”
“Cockle... digging?”
Park Juu tried a cheeky answer.
“I saw this on MeTube. Barnacle cleaning!”
“What’s that?”
“You blast barnacles off the bottom of a ship with a high-pressure hose. You lift the boat and...”
Cheonghyeon got animated explaining barnacle cleaning. None of it sounded easy.
But no way they’d hand a high-pressure-hose job to non-pros.
Regardless of intensity, that’s a safety issue. The Do.Salm team knows how to set the bar.
“Ah, it’s so satisfying when no one gets it right. Makes all the item scouting worth it.”
The PD grinned, pleased we were flailing.
“Last time Spark prepared too well for the part-time gigs. So this time our writers clenched their teeth finding an item.”
Seems the Do.Salm folks hate losing. Hence dragging us to Mokpo at one in the morning.
“Today’s one-day job for Spark is... catching mud-octopus!”
An item most people haven’t heard of.
A task that’s hard to prep for in advance.
A special case where you won’t know if you can deliver until you try.
Perfect. Which is why my vision went dark.
Spark aspires to be those flawless idols—great frames, killer work ethic, nothing for haters to grab onto!
“But the water hasn’t gone out yet, has it?”
Jeho pointed at the sea. You could see the surface not far off.
“We’re taking a boat in.”
“A boat?”
“Octopus don’t live near the close shoreline, apparently.”
At the same time, they handed us boarding paperwork. After filling it out, each of us received a plastic bag.
“Inside you’ve got coveralls, gloves, everything. Put them on in the boat. Just throw them on over what you’re wearing!”
“Wow, our first team outfit since the practice sweats!”
Cheonghyeon was delighted. Feels like he’s subtweeting the day he proposed buying practice sweats as our first friendship item.
Because we had to hit the tide just right, boarding moved fast.
Layering gloves on the boat was a fresh sight—something we’d never seen from Spark till now.
“Juu, you okay with motion sickness?”
“Yeah, so far.”
“GiYEON, your strap’s twisted.”
“Thanks.”
It was nice, how carefully everyone looked out for each other.
Until we reached the spot, we repeated today’s target to ourselves.
“What was the PD’s quota per person again?”
“Wasn’t it ten?”
“Is ten doable? I’ve never caught one; I have no sense of it.”
Seongbin, GiYEON, and Cheonghyeon huddled up to debate “Can Spark catch sixty octopus today?”
Jeho leaned against the wall, drinking a packet of mix coffee a crewman handed him, watching. Drop him anywhere and he’ll adapt just fine.
In that cramped space, chatting about this and that, we heard the sound of docking.
Then, as we waited on the captain’s cue, the water slowly drew back and a vast mudflat appeared.
“Spark, please disembark! The muck is super deep, so watch your step!”
Before the PD even finished, a grunt came from beside me. Jeho’s right leg had sunk to the knee.
“You’ll be catching octopus here for two hours. You’ll need tools, right?”
At that moment a staffer tossed something down from the deck onto the mud.
Six huge baskets woven from straw-like material—for holding octopus, presumably—and...
A shovel?
...six shovels. With very long blades and very long handles.
Weird. I’m sure the internet showed people using trowels to dig up clams. Guess real mudflats and “mudflat experiences” use different gear from the jump.
Whether my pupils were shaking or not, the PD didn’t care. He brought a crewman forward and said,
“Before we start shov— I mean, octopus catching! Please watch a demo from a seasoned pro!”
I heard that. Loud and clear.
He definitely said shoveling!
