Peninsula: From a supporting actor to the best actor in Chungmuro

Chapter 275 The house cat is acting, the wild cat is falling for it.

The morning light in Jeju Island was still clear, but it couldn't illuminate the weariness in Krystal Jung's eyes.

Another one failed—

"Cut!"

Director Julie's voice already carried a hint of impatience:
"Let's do Ha Eun's last line again!"

Insomnia is like a slow, agonizing torture that attacks you every night.

The wooden wall next door faithfully relayed all the sounds: the rhythmic thumping of the bed frame, the sticky sloshing of water, and the woman's unrestrained moans.

The film set during the day became a public execution ground.

Dark circles under the eyes need to be covered with thick powder, and the lines are delivered in a weak and ethereal tone.

In contrast, Kim Ji-won.

Every glance was brimming with sweetness, every line of dialogue sparked with brilliance, and her almost showy, full-bodied performance made her seem like a withered, fallen leaf.

"Cut! Ha Eun's eyes are wandering!"

"Cut! The emotional transition is too abrupt!"

"..."

The accumulated number of NGs on the clapperboard is like a pillar of shame.

A vicious cycle repeats itself.

NG, overtime, late-night torture, and even worse NG.

The noise from the stagehands moving equipment grew louder and louder, and the staff whispered among themselves like cockroaches in the shadows—"It's her again," "We might as well just replace her."

The crew barely managed to wrap up filming when the sky began to tear open the sea.

"Thank you everyone for your hard work!"

While Kim Ji-won was handing out vitamin drinks to the staff with an angelic smile, Jung Soo-jung simply walked past her expressionlessly.

The target—Kang Jae-hoon, who is talking to the director of photography not far away.

The sound of her high heels clicking on the sand was somewhat hesitant, much like her mood at that moment.

"Kang Jae-hoon."

The clear, cool voice cut through the noisy crowd, successfully stopping the figure in its tracks.

Kang Jae-hoon gestured to the photography director to wait a moment.

Head tilted.

My gaze fell on Krystal Jung's cat-like eyes, which were unfocused from exhaustion.

Raised eyebrows.

She didn't want to appear like a jealous, resentful woman, so her opening remarks were restrained to the point of arrogance:
"Don't you have too much energy?"

Jiang Zai Xun immediately understood what she meant, but the smile on his lips spread slowly like ink drops into water.

"Thanks for the compliment."

He feigned ignorance, speaking slowly and deliberately:

"However, showing concern for a colleague's nightlife is not really like actress Zheng's style."

A casual rhetorical question precisely pierced through Krystal Jung's carefully constructed facade of dignity.

She was broken.

Anger instantly ignited in those beautiful eyes:

"The walls here aren't soundproof like those in a five-star hotel!"

Every syllable that came out of his mouth sounded like it had been fished out of an ice cellar:

"If you absolutely must experience honeymoon life early, I suggest you go to the sea—after all, you're not afraid of being stung by jellyfish."

Kang Jae-hoon was not annoyed at all; instead, his smile deepened.

The sea breeze carried the scent of cedar foliage from him, forcefully invading Krystal Jung's breath.

He stared intently into her eyes, and in a voice almost like a lover's whisper, uttered the most provocative words:

"If I can calm her down, how do you plan to thank me?"

Krystal Jung was stunned for a moment, then laughed in anger at this shameless logic.

"Thank you? I'll only thank myself for the peace and quiet."

"Do not."

Kang Jae-hoon stretched out his long, slender fingers and gently shook them in front of her:
"Let's make a bet."

His voice was lowered so that only the wind and she could hear it.

“If you can get a good night’s sleep starting tonight, until we leave Jeju Island, then I’ll consider it a win. The wager is…” He paused, enjoying the sudden contraction in her pupils, “you owe me one request, anything.”

A wave of humiliation washed over me.

Krystal Jung looked at his smug, arrogant face and felt so angry she could grind her teeth.

He treated her pain as a trophy and her breakdown as a bargaining chip in a game.

but……

The insomnia that had lasted for several days was a slow poison, eroding her rationality and professionalism drop by drop—the shame of those bloopers, the strange looks from the staff…

Between "swallowing sleeping pills and continuing to be rejected with a swollen face and a sluggish mind" and "accepting this bastard's humiliating bet," her brain struggled for only three seconds.

"What if you lost?"

Kang Jae-hoon suddenly reached out and brushed aside her bangs, which were ruffled by the sea breeze, his fingertips stopping just before touching her skin:
"I won't lose."

This arrogant answer made Krystal's temples throb. But in her dazed state after five consecutive days of sleeping less than eight hours in total, she heard her own hoarse voice:
".make a deal."

……

As it turns out, the devil's pact always has an immediate effect.

It was as if someone had pressed the mute button in the next room, and that thin wooden wall had turned into an airtight vacuum overnight.

There was no giggling, no groaning of the bed frame, and even the sound of footsteps returning late at night had disappeared.

An unusual silence in the world.

Krystal Jung has indeed found peace after a long absence.

The dark circles under his eyes faded, and his gaze regained its sharpness.

The crew on set were surprised to find that Jung Soo-jung, whom director Jolie called a "spirited actress," had returned.

But the more things were like this, the more Krystal Jung couldn't help but think about that dangerous bet—

What method did Kang Jae-hoon use to make Kim Ji-won so quiet?
What could be the line, "You owe me a request, anything"?
That bastard wouldn't...
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the parasol, falling on Krystal Jung's face, but she seemed lost in thought amidst the interplay of light and shadow.

“Soojung-ssi.”

The usher's voice pulled her back to reality from her reverie. He handed her an A4 sheet of paper covered in densely printed forms, the edges still warm from the printer.

"This is the filming schedule for the next three days. Please confirm it."

Krystal Jung took the shooting schedule, her eyes scanning the densely packed arrangements—

【6.15】

Morning: Zhenyu & Heen - High School Friendship Play
Afternoon: Zhenyu & Heen - Met and smiled at a nightclub scene

【6.16】

Jinwoo & Haeun - Graduation Farewell Scene

[June 6.17-6.19]

Jinwoo & Haeun - Coming-of-Age Wedding Scene

Krystal frowned and looked up at the stage manager:

"What's going on? Why are all the major emotional scenes concentrated in these few days?"

This does fit the shooting rhythm of fragmented narrative in film, but it completely contradicts the usual practice of film crews shooting in concentrated scenes!
The stagehand explained:
"We're starting filming for 'The Witch Wearing Cartier' in Seoul, and we also have promotional schedules for 'Train to Busan,' so we're focusing on filming the president's scenes in Jeju Island."

".oh."

Krystal Jung closed the shooting schedule.

It turned out to be the case.

The entire crew of over a hundred people was disrupted by his mere mention of a "scheduling conflict." Scenes jumped around abruptly, emotions were disjointed, and she was even required to portray a high school student turned married woman within three days.
He seemed relaxed.

After filming his part, he can leave the island in style, leaving the others to clean up the mess and slowly film the empty shots and group scenes without him.

To act like a diva to this extent is truly... ...

The clapperboard snapped shut in front of the camera.

"Action!"

The camera slowly zooms in on an art classroom.

The desks, pieced together, were covered with checkered tablecloths, and daisies picked from the wild were placed in Coke bottles. A dozen or so young extras sat in two rows, recreating a social event that was popular in South Korea around the turn of the millennium—a social gathering.

In the original film "Soulmate," Jiaming and Qiyue's first meeting was full of artistic flair:

The books high up in the library, the boy's helping hand, and the girl's upward gaze—everything unfolds gradually.

However, when adapting Next Scene for the local audience, the writing team drastically cut the scenes of the male lead, Zhenyu, in order to focus all the attention on the two female leads.

There is no process.

A simple and straightforward "social gathering" directly confirmed the relationship between the two.

Seventeen-year-old Ha Eun sat in the corner, clutching the hem of her skirt, a few stray hairs hanging loosely from her ponytail. The matchmaking games had reached the "Choice of Fate" stage, where the girls had to choose their favorite from a row of boys.

The camera zooms in on her subtle changes in expression—

Hesitantly pursing her lips, her eyelashes trembling, her gaze finally settling on her face as she looked at Kang Jae-hoon with feigned composure.

"I choose Senior Zhenyu."

There was silence.

On the monitor, Kang Jae-hoon looked up in surprise upon hearing this. Under the light, his white shirt revealed the contours of his shoulders and neck, and his Adam's apple swayed gracefully.
"it is good."

……

Scene change.

Move to a restaurant by the window with a view of the sea.

The electric fan whirred, and Jung Soo-jung's pencil scratched across the paper. Kang Jae-hoon watched her, his chin propped on his hand, as condensation formed on the ice in his glass on the table.

"All right."

She turned the sketchbook over—

The paper doesn't depict a realistic portrait at all; instead, it abstracts his outline into a map of Jeju Island.
Her sideburns resembled the sunrise peak of Seongsan Ilchulbong in the east, the lines of her nose were like the Hallasan Mountains, and the folds of her shirt became waves.

"What school of thought is this?"

"He Eun-ryu".

Krystal Jung looked at him with a smile and asked, "Want to learn?"

Under the dim lighting, the silhouettes of the two gradually drew closer, eventually culminating in the "fake kiss" gesture marked in the script.

……

The awkward first kiss of adolescence is dried by the humid monsoon of Jeju Island.

The shutter of time relentlessly jumped under the director's command, condensing two years into a sudden summer rain, washing away the immaturity of school uniforms and directly watering the bitter chinaberry tree of graduation season, a tree of "farewell".

"Action!"

A farewell scene.

Jin-woo is going to Seoul to pursue his dreams, while Ha-eun chooses to stay where she is and take the entrance exam for a local teachers' college.

There was no heated argument, no desperate pleading; the script contained only one pale line: [The two embraced in silence].

"Do you really have to leave?"

The cruise ship gleamed with a cold metallic sheen in the sunlight, and the sound of suitcase wheels rolling abruptly stopped.

Ha Eun's voice was as soft as a falling leaf.

Zhenyu turned to look at her.

Ha Eun wore a simple white dress, the sea breeze making the hem flutter like waves about to break. Her expression was indifferent, as indifferent as the sky after a wash, revealing neither joy nor sorrow.

He walked toward her, stopped half a meter away, and then opened his arms.

Ha Eun hesitated for a second.

In the end, she still gave herself into that embrace.

The familiar scent of cedarwood forcefully penetrated her breath.

This scent, mingled with another sweet fragrance through that damned wooden wall, had become a torment for her during countless sleepless nights.

But at this moment, it is so pure, so... reassuring.

Krystal Jung's expression became incredibly complex.

In the script, Ha Eun should just quietly lean against him.

But at this moment.

Her hands, however, uncontrollably embraced him, only to abruptly release him the moment reason returned.

behind the monitor.

Director Julie looked with satisfaction at the two embracing in the frame—

Krystal Jung's body was somewhat stiff and resistant, but her eyes revealed a lingering affection and wavering that she herself was unaware of.

The contradictory feeling of wanting to grab something but not daring to is portrayed perfectly.

This is the real Haeun.

This is the girl who built a cage called "stability" but secretly hid the key.

"Cut! Perfect!"

The sound of the clapperboard closing startled Krystal Jung.

She quickly pushed Kang Jae-hoon away and bent down to straighten the wrinkled hem of her clothes.

In the distance, Kim Ji-won appeared beside the monitor at some point, watching the playback while biting a straw.

The sunlight cast the shadows of the three people onto the railway tracks, like an absurd shadow puppet show—some pretending to part, some pretending to be magnanimous, and the remaining one…
……

The quiet night should be a blessing.

There were no groans, no sounds of hitting the wall, not even the sound of footsteps.

But Krystal Jung lay awake in the darkness, the rhythm of the waves outside the window suddenly becoming irritating. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the sheets, her mind filled with the embrace from the daytime filming.

Even through her clothes, Kang Jae-hoon's temperature felt so hot that it made her chest feel tight.

Three days, three scenes, each more deadly than the last.

During the staged chance encounter at the social gathering, the moment Kang Jae-hoon reached out to her against the light, she clearly felt something tremble uncontrollably.
In the midnight-themed nightclub scene, the touch of his fingertips on her dimple felt like a branding iron;

And in the wedding scene to be filmed tomorrow...

Krystal Jung suddenly rolled over and buried herself in the pillow.

Have to admit.

Putting aside his chaotic private life, Kang Jae-hoon, as an actor, possesses an almost fatal charm.

When you think it's just work, just going through the motions, he looks at you with that focused gaze, as if you're the only thing left in the world.

Whenever his fingers inadvertently brushed against her wrist, whenever he breathed on her to accommodate the camera, she could clearly hear her defenses, called "reason," cracking with a series of crisp, subtle sounds.

That bet about sleep was like a Pandora's box that had been opened.

It drove away the noisy ghosts of the night, but released the demon called "throbbing" that she thought had been sealed away by time.

Worst of all, she knew better than anyone else—

It's all a show.

His deep affection was for "Ha Eun," his tenderness was for the camera, and his perfectly timed improvisation was simply the professional quality of a top actor.

But the heart refuses to cooperate.

It was like a foolish, uncontrollable traitor, beating its drums without permission as he approached.

The drumbeats shattered the defenses she had painstakingly built, shaking off all the dust of hatred.

The most terrifying thing is that hidden concern—

She even started to notice the angle at which his eyebrows were raised when he was talking to Kim Ji-won;

They even absurdly wondered... at this moment, was the silence next door truly peaceful, or had they chosen a more secluded rendezvous spot?
Moonlight streamed through the curtains, drawing silver fencing on the floor. Krystal stared at her phone screen, which flickered on and off.

Her fingers involuntarily opened the chat box with Kang Jae-hoon.

(End of this chapter)