FGSCSI 18

Chapter 18

I clutched the lip balm in my hand after confirming that Manager Kang had left through the school gates. Thanks to his timely exit, things were about to get easier.

This time, I’d take on Manager Kang’s role.

That way, I could move freely around the set and keep an eye on Cha Wook.

As I opened the lip balm, I recalled the timeline of Cha Wook and Heidi’s scandal that I’d pieced together overnight.

To be honest, there wasn’t much of a timeline.

One day, they suddenly seemed close, and the next, the scandal broke.

Given how tightly packed the drama’s filming schedule was, it was clear they’d grown close during that period.

But at least in the early stages of filming, they’d been visibly awkward around each other. So if I stayed vigilant from the start, maybe I could figure out how Heidi had sunk her claws into Wook.

‘You can’t control someone’s heart…’

Still, I couldn’t just stand by and watch a potential disaster unfold. I had to do something.

After using the lip balm to bypass security, I hesitantly made my way toward the music room where the first shoot was about to begin.

I only had 30 minutes in this role.

If anyone spotted a student in uniform wandering around the set, it would cause chaos, so I had to secure another role before time ran out.

Nervous, I swallowed dryly.

I did my best to mimic the manager personas I’d seen in dramas and movies. Since Manager Kang had a strong, macho image, my tone had to match.

When I reached the music room, filming had just begun. Staff members who couldn’t fit inside crowded the hallway.

‘Filming’s started—can I even squeeze in there?’

I hovered awkwardly near the corner, unsure if I’d be interrupting, when—

“What are you looking at?”

A whisper brushed against my ear, startling me so badly I yelped.

“M-Mom?!”

I flattened myself against the wall, my heart shrinking to the size of a pea as I recognized the person in front of me.

“Ah, no, I was just…”

Do Eunseok. Why are YOU here?!

Memories of our encounter at the salon flashed in my mind. I’d been grateful for his help that day, but this was weird.

Why did I keep running into him at the most unexpected times? And—

Again. That look.

His sharp, unwavering gaze locked onto me, eerily similar to the intense stare he’d given me at the salon.

It felt like he was seeing right through me, making me instinctively shrink back.

“…Hyung?”

Oh, right. I’m the manager now.

I quickly pulled myself together and responded.

“Y-Yeah. Eunseok.”

I knew Eunseok’s piercing gaze was famous among fans as one of his charms, but if he looked at his manager like that too, he was truly born to be an idol.

‘No wonder he has so many male fans.’

Guilty as charged, Do Eunseok.

“Why so jumpy? What were you staring at so hard?”

Wouldn’t YOU be startled if someone snuck up and whispered in your ear like a thief?!

I remembered he’d been busy working on new songs around this time. Had he really been visiting drama sets back then…?

Well, it was his bandmate’s workplace, so it made sense.

Steadying my racing heart, I replied in my best tough-guy voice.

“It’s Wook’s first shoot. I’m nervous for him. That punk better do well.”

“He practiced a lot. He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…”

I wished I could believe that, but I couldn’t. Because Cha Wook was about to become the poster child for wooden acting and get mocked for years.

Did he not practice enough?

That wasn’t the problem—and that’s what made it worse.

If sheer over-analysis could improve acting, he’d have swept every Best Actor award by now.

Lost in my worries, I forced a smile when I noticed Eunseok still staring.

“What? Something to say?”

“No. Just… didn’t realize you were this sensitive.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, then tilted his head.

“But hyung, didn’t you say you had something urgent?”

“Me? What thing?”

“Dunno. You tell me.”

“Pfft. Nothing’s more urgent than filming.”

“…Right.”

Now that I’d somewhat recovered from the shock of Eunseok’s sudden appearance, I scanned the set again.

Maybe it was my imagination, but the staff’s expressions had stiffened. The atmosphere was noticeably more tense than before.

‘Did something happen?’

Just as I craned my neck like a curious turtle—

“Let’s get closer.”

“—!”

Eunseok yanked my arm, pulling me along before I could react.

This was the first time I’d been physically touched while in a role, and my mind short-circuited. Appearance aside…

I stared uneasily at my slender wrist in his large hand. Compared to Manager Kang’s burly build, this was absurdly frail.

I glanced up at Eunseok’s back, anxiety creeping in.

He continued wordlessly, still gripping my wrist as he led me forward. I could feel the staff’s eyes on us.

A rugged, bearded manager being dragged around by an idol probably wasn’t a common sight.

Thanks to the staff clearing a path for Eunseok, we got close enough to see the filming without disrupting it.

“…….”

Eunseok released my wrist and silently watched the scene unfold.

Apparently, physical contact didn’t break the role—good to know.

Finally calming down, I followed his gaze to Cha Wook. My earlier unease hadn’t been misplaced.

The director’s furious shout confirmed it.

“Cha Wook! I’m not even asking for emotion! How many times have you messed up the lines? This is the part we drilled to death! It’s the first scene, for— Are you kidding me right now?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t the problem! Do you realize how much time and manpower you’re wasting? Did you even practice?!”

“N-No, I did. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

They were probably filming the scene where Cha Wook’s character confesses to Heidi’s in the music room.

Seeing Wook bowing his head, barely able to lift it from all the apologies, made my chest ache.

I bit my lip, remembering the ridicule he’d face when this aired.

“Ugh…”

Heidi, who’d been sitting on the windowsill watching the director’s tirade, hopped down. Her pale face was twisted in irritation as she sighed dramatically.

“Let’s take a break, Director.”

“Huh? A break? We still have scenes to shoot before sunset—”

“I feel dizzy.”

“Oh! Dizzy? Well, we can’t have that. Fine, let’s take 40.”

As the director’s decision spread, the staff scattered to reset or take a breather.

“I’m so bored I could die.”

Heidi’s muttered complaint was quiet but weighed on me like a stone. If I felt this bad hearing it, how must Cha Wook feel?

I glanced at him, heart sinking. He was still standing there, head bowed.

Had he been working in this atmosphere the whole time?

The icy tension stung my skin. If I were in his place, I wouldn’t have lasted a second.

‘I was so focused on stopping the scandal…’

I hadn’t considered how hard Cha Wook was struggling at work.

I felt just as bad as the people who dismissed idols’ acting efforts without a second thought.

As a fan who knew how seriously he took this, guilt gnawed at me.

‘Isn’t there any way to help him?’

As I watched his slumped shoulders, an old memory surfaced—a later interview where he’d reflected on this drama.