[What, a cameo appearance?]
The day I got in touch with Min Jiheon was the same day I was supposed to have a pre-meeting with the staff of Before the Moon Wanes.
The casting offer for a drama special appearance had already come through my manager, and even after I texted the guy myself, quite a bit of time had passed.
I wanted to wrap things up quickly since I was busy with preparations for year-end stages and collaborations, but Min Jiheon reacted with blatant indifference.
[Do I have to act with an idol again?]
“......”
He managed to film just fine with me, a no-name rookie idol, so why the hell is he bitching about it now?
[...If it’s just a cameo, there’s no real merit anyway. Why not just turn it down?]
With a faint sigh, Min Jiheon spewed words that didn’t sound like him at all.
I glanced at the blue quest window floating in the corner of my vision and answered flatly.
“We’re already set to meet today.”
[Haa... figures. You wouldn’t listen even if someone tried to stop you... I’ve got filming now, so I’ll hang up.]
“What?”
[The life of a top star is always busy.]
Click.
And he really hung up.
“What the hell’s with this bastard?”
I stared at the phone as it shifted to the idle screen.
‘This bastard’s hiding something.’
Normally, he’d drag out the conversation and pester me about when I was coming to the set. This time he was excessively dry. Jiheon had brushed things off plenty of times before, but this felt different.
I was debating whether to dig into it when we met, packing up my things to head to the pre-meeting—
Bang!
The practice room door burst open with great force.
Then Jung Dajun, cheeks flushed and gasping for breath, came rushing in.
“Da—!!!!”
Da?
“—script pleaseee!!!!”
“Nope.”
The instant I picked up my bag to ignore him, Dajun slid across the floor on his whole body and clung to my pant leg.
“Before the Moon Wanes! A Korean-style fantasy drama based on exorcism that unravels mysterious cases!! Written by star screenwriter Kim Sookhee, starring senior actor Min Jiheon, the talk of the town!! Filming already started, broadcast is soon, but that’s all the info we have!!”
“No spoilers.”
“Hyung hyung, Hoyun hyung! Pleaseee! Don’t you pity me? I heard from the road manager that you’re making a cameo in that drama, and I ran up the stairs from the first floor! I even abandoned Sunghyun hyung who was with me!!”
“You could’ve taken the elevator.”
“Who has time to wait for the elevator at a moment like this!!”
So, you ditched the leader and sprinted here alone, huh?
I tried pulling my leg free, but our elephant was too damn strong. He wouldn’t budge, as if vowing not to let go until he got the script.
Not like I could just kick Dajun off.
“...Hey, I don’t have the script.”
“H-huh?”
“They said it went into urgent revisions. I’m supposed to get it at the meeting today.”
“Once you get it, can you show me?”
“Depends on how you behave.”
“Hot.”
Only then did Dajun release my pants, carefully smoothing out the deep wrinkles he’d left and flashing me a grin.
“Dajun will wait like an adult.”
I didn’t bother replying and stepped out. One step behind, Dajun trailed me, chattering nonstop.
“Hyung hyung hyung, so you agreed without even reading the script? With your personality, no way~?!”
“It’s just a few seconds of screentime. Doesn’t matter.”
“Hoooh~.”
Besides, I’d just be background.
From what I’d heard, they were gathering every high-profile celebrity who had acted with Min Jiheon before, purely to boost the drama’s buzz. I was just one of them.
Several cameos would appear, all meant to highlight the spiritual powers of the character played by Min Jiheon, Won Jaewook.
“We’re busy too. I can only spare a few days.”
“Eh?! But hyung, won’t it be hard without practice time? What if people call you a terrible actor?!”
“Hey. What mouth is that nonsense coming out of?”
“Waaah, don’t pinch my cheeks! I was just worried... but are you really fine with this? What kind of role is it?”
“Wanna know?”
“Yes!! Pleaseee!”
I pinched his cheeks again. He covered both and glared at me sulkily.
“A PD named Lee Junghoon possessed by a ghost.”
Dajun’s jaw dropped.
***
Shoving the wailing Dajun back into the practice room before he could charge off screaming to “re-film Bring Me the Camera,” I headed to the parking lot and got into the van for the pre-meeting of Before the Moon Wanes.
“The overall schedule won’t be too tight. Today you’ll get the revised script and just coordinate some details.”
“Yes, thank you.”
I thanked the road manager for the brief rundown and looked out the window. I had been to Studio Ollio before during Nugu Actor Tycoon, so I expected this to be quick and dry business, just like he said.
Reality turned out different.
At the promised building, three staff members were already waiting for me in the lobby.
“Seo Hoyun, hello!”
“Ahaha... welcome!”
“...Nice to meet you.”
“Wow~, you look even better in person.”
One of them, however, was shooting daggers at me with his eyes.
‘What’s his problem?’
That was clearly not goodwill.
I composed my face as though I hadn’t noticed and followed their lead into the meeting room.
We sat facing each other across a long rectangular table. The staff member with the gentlest face cautiously spoke up.
“Thank you for accepting our proposal. You’ve heard the general synopsis, right? Here’s the revised script. Please take a look, and if you have any opinions, let us know.”
“Yes, understood.”
I accepted the script he handed over.
[Before the Moon Wanes]
After glancing at the title, I flipped the pages. Notes were stuck on every scene where I would appear.
Funeral of Seong Donghyung. With parents long gone and no children of his own, his nephew, Lee Junghoon, takes the role of chief mourner.
“The first scene is at a funeral?”
“...Hahaha, yes. The part isn’t that long, but the setting is heavy, so the acting tone may feel a little weighty.”
So the ghost I was haunted by was my dead uncle, huh.
I narrowed my eyes and turned another page.
Wearing a mourning armband, Lee [N O V E L I G H T] Junghoon bows with visitors at the funeral. A guest offers him words of comfort.
Lee Junghoon lowers his head, tears streaming down.
Even a crying scene?
“...Th-that’s fine, right?”
I quietly read through.
There was barely any direct interaction with Min Jiheon, just a brief passing exchange. Hardly any lines either.
In the silent meeting room, I could hear the staff swallowing nervously. Closing the last page, I smiled.
“Yes, it’s fine.”
“Oooh!”
Looked like the role required more acting skill than I expected, but still.
I brushed it off casually, and the anxious staff instantly brightened.
“Wow, Seo Hoyun, you’re so cool. Great, great.”
They all seemed relieved.
I looked around at them.
From the start until now, they’d been watching my expressions far too closely.
Even after the meeting, they kept babbling insincere compliments—how much they loved Bring Me the Camera, how great I was, all empty words.
“Ah! We’ve booked a restaurant nearby for a light staff get-together. Would you like to join?”
“Eh, Seo Hoyun must be very busy. Year-end season is especially packed.”
The one who had been glaring at me now smiled slyly, trying to cut me off before I could reply. But with my schedule clear, I exchanged glances with the road manager and nodded.
“I’d be glad to join if you’re inviting me.”
The man’s expression soured as if he was about to say something more, but another staffer quickly stepped in to block him.
We followed the guide to a nearby pub, already packed with the director and production staff. About fifteen people in total.
Among them, a few faces were familiar—people I’d worked with before on Bring Me the Camera, Dead after Hope, and Shining Star.
“I heard from a staffer that Seo Hoyun is a real heavy drinker.”
“Haha, I get drunk just from the smell of alcohol.”
“Oh dear, then maybe we should skip it today?”
“But if the director offers me a drink, of course I’ll accept with thanks.”
After one polite glass, I blended in with the mood just enough. Soon tongues loosened.
Naturally, the topic that came up most was Min Jiheon.
“How is Min Jiheon so perfect?! Not a single bad rumor about him!!”
“He really is amazing. At his age, there’s no actor who can match his acting.”
“Weren’t there times when his films didn’t do so well?”
“But he’s never been criticized for his acting. On the contrary, he’s always praised for taking on experimental roles.”
I let the candid chatter wash over me.
Every time I heard things like this, I could really feel Jiheon’s standing in the industry.
Then a curt voice cut through the noise.
“But isn’t Min Jiheon kind of cold sometimes?”
Of course—it was the same man who’d been wearing his displeasure openly.
Nearby staff shot him alarmed looks, but drunk as he was, he didn’t notice and kept sniping.
“Maybe because he knows he’s so great. Always bossing people around. Sometimes he oversteps. Lately he even told the writer to change the script’s setup.”
The lighting director gave an awkward smile, poured him beer, and patted his back as if to tell him to get a grip.
“Hey now, what are you saying. Min Jiheon has been working with Writer Kim Sookhee for years. She likes proactive actors, you know. And actors should be able to give their opinions.”
“Still, this time he went too far.”
The man ignored the cues, raised his voice, and then turned his gaze on me.
“He even said to cancel your casting. Are you two not close?”
“Ah, haha, come on. They did variety shows together. Everyone knows they’re close.”
“Really? Then why’d he do that? He nitpicked every little setting too.”
He didn’t pick up on the signals people were giving and kept whining. When I showed no reaction, he downed more beer and opened his mouth again.
“Oh right, did you know it was originally supposed to be the parents’ funeral, not the uncle’s? Min Jiheon suggested changing it to a relative, so they switched it.”
“What? Really?”
Most of them clearly hadn’t heard this before and looked surprised.
“Even Seo Hoyun’s agency asked to cut parts, so the writer ended up slicing out a ton.”
“I see.”
“Between Jiheon and WH Entertainment and now Seo Hoyun’s side too, there were way too many cooks in the kitchen. We staff nearly died trying to keep it all coordinated.”
Ah. So that’s why he’d been so resentful earlier.
This guy had piled up annoyance and discontent from endless meddling over something as trivial as a cameo, and then finally exploded when he ran into me.
“You worked hard.”
“Ahem.”
Not wanting conflict, I answered briefly.
The man grinned and poured soju into my half-empty beer glass.
“But seriously, I don’t get it. Why scrap the funeral? That cut nearly ten pages of script. Was it because you’re an idol? Or because you’re young? Maybe you’ve never been to a funeral? Is that it?”
“...Hyungju, you’re drunk.”
“Nooo, I’m fine! Totally fine. Not drunk.”
The table went silent, quiet enough to hear an ant step.
Everyone but him—who was drunkenly jabbing the air with his index finger—stared at me in horror, silently begging him to shut up. Of course, the message didn’t get through.
“So, how old are you again, Seo Hoyun? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
I slowly lifted my beer glass and downed it in one go. Then I answered him calmly.
“Twenty-five.”
“Ah, close enough. Anyway, you’ve had experience, right?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Well, thank god for—”
“When my parents passed away.”
The man blinked blankly as if he’d just heard words in a foreign language.
I opened a fresh soju bottle, poured into his glass, and added gently,
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine. I’ll do my best in the role.”
“......”
“Shall we toast?”
I refilled my own glass and raised it. He sat frozen stiff, unable to move. I shrugged and drank alone.
I could feel every gaze fixed on me, unmoving.
“Soju in a beer glass, really...”
“Haha.”
I grabbed my coat, touched my still-cool cheek, and said,
“Ah... I feel a little tipsy. I’ll step out for some air.”
“Sure, take your time! Relax! Enjoy the fresh air, haha...”
As soon as I left, I heard people scolding the man behind me, calling him thoughtless.
‘He’ll keep his mouth shut during filming, at least.’
He’d been annoying me since the start.
Now that I’d established dominance, the short filming period should pass smoothly enough.
In the shadowed alley beside the restaurant, I pulled out my phone. A new message had popped up in The Dawn’s group chat.
[Jung Dajun: Hyung, why’s the meeting taking so looong]
[Jung Dajun: Hurry back... I’ve been waiting for Writer Kim Sookhee’s script so long I turned into a giraffe...]
[Sung Jiwon: Hoyun fighting!! (smiling emoticon)]
[Jung Dajun: Hyung, and don’t let them intimidate you]
[Jung Dajun: If they do, I’ll run over and shake my butt in a dance right now]
[Kang Ichae: Let’s go together rn]
[Jung Dajun: (butt-wiggling emoticon)]
[Kim Sunghyun: That would be even more humiliating...]
I chuckled at the messages.
I was about to reply “I don’t need that kind of encouragement” when a sweet citrus scent drifted by, followed by a shadow at my feet.
“Seo Hoyun.”
I lifted my head at the familiar voice. Min Jiheon’s sharp, long eyes curved into a smile.
“Out here for a smoke?”
So much for being busy. How the hell did this guy know where I was? I clicked my tongue and corrected his nonsense politely.
“Get lost, I’m an idol.”
