Chapter 23: A Guide to Using Sekkisei

The sunset stained Sinchon-dong the color of orange marmalade.

Kang Jae-hoon’s suit was stained with salt from sweat under the armpits, and the bandage on his sunburned nape had peeled up into the shape of cat ears.

The lighting director held up a reflector, adjusting the angle. "Director Han, we only have fifteen minutes of golden hour light left!"

Han Dong-wook stared at the monitor, rubbing his hands together. "Everyone, pick up the pace!"

Kang Jae-hoon immediately stuffed a frayed hospital bill into his trouser pocket.

The clapper loader held the slate in front of the lens. "Scene 56, Take 3, first run!"

"Clap!"

The moment the clapperboard slammed shut, the landlord swung his arm around and slammed a key ring onto the table. The metallic clash rang out like a bullet grazing Han Hye-jin’s eardrum; the sudden tremor in her shoulders caused her purse strap to slide off.

Kang Jae-hoon lunged forward to steady the edge of the table, and the bill in his front pocket slid out halfway—*Korea University Hospital Payment Notice*.

"Look, it’s already this late!"

He stooped his back and pushed the keys back, his nape wound brushing against his collar. The pain made his lips twitch into a Mona Lisa smile—which, coincidentally, gave off a sense of desperate, ingratiating awkwardness.

"If you leave now, the whole day will have been for nothing!"

A close-up framed the landlord’s twitching jaw, a mid-shot showed the white-knuckled grip of Han Hye-jin on her bag strap, and a wide shot captured the golden light of the setting sun.

"Cut!"

Han Dong-wook suddenly grabbed his walkie-talkie. "Camera Three, move behind to get a close-up of the bill! Little Kang, next time, bend down five degrees lower."

"Understood."

Third take. The landlord swung the keys with more force. As Kang Jae-hoon scrambled to catch them, he deliberately let the bill flutter all the way to the floor.

Han Hye-jin leaned down to help him pick up the paper, effectively blocking the landlord’s clenched fist. "Please, just wait a little longer... just half an hour!"

In the monitor, the shadow of her drooping eyelashes overlapped with the ink of the *Chemotherapy Expenses* on the bill.

"Cut!"

A moment later, Han Dong-wook poked his head out from behind the monitor. "That’s a wrap. Congratulations on finishing your shoot, Little Kang."

"Clap, clap, clap!" Applause broke out on set.

Kang Jae-hoon felt a lingering sense of unfinished business. He had been planning to use a real estate agent’s signature move—faking a medical episode to stall for time—if they had to redo the scene. Even if it might have earned him a scolding from the director for triggering a chain reaction of laughter through improvisation. But at the end of the day, he just felt his screen time was too short to feel satisfied.

Hwang Jung-min, however, could see exactly what his "foolish" apprentice was thinking; he had been the same way in his youth.

"You brat." He flicked the curled-up bandage on Kang Jae-hoon’s neck. "Back when I was scrubbing floors at the theater troupe, I couldn't even snag a role as a postman with three lines."

As he spoke, Hwang Jung-min pressed a chilled soda against the sunburn, making Kang Jae-hoon shiver. "If I sent you to play the lead right now, do you think you could carry it?"

Kang Jae-hoon flashed his teeth in a grin and scratched his head. "I could definitely carry the lead’s share of the lunch boxes!"

Hwang Jung-min kicked him in the rear. "Aish! All you think about is food! Your acting needs to keep up, too!"

As Kang Jae-hoon stumbled while clutching his backside, Kim Dae-won shoved his phone screen in his face. "Screenwriter Kim Eun-sook’s new drama—*The Heirs*—is holding auditions! There are at least fifty rookie actors lining up every day!"

"Oh?" Kang Jae-hoon stared at the character profile. "Can I audition for Kim Tan?"

"In your dreams." Kim Dae-won scrolled to the supporting cast list. "The leads are already cast; they’re only auditioning for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth supporting roles now."

"...Teacher, should I go?"

Hwang Jung-min took the phone and rubbed his chin. "Writer Kim’s eye for talent is even sharper than my wife Mi-hye’s eye for sunscreen, but—"

Based on the character settings and story synopsis alone, Hwang Jung-min could tell this was an idol drama with very little depth. By his standards for training his apprentice, appearing in such a show would offer no benefit to Kang Jae-hoon’s growth. Looking back at his performance history over the past few months—*Macbeth* had trained his dramatic tension; *Despicable Me 2* had honed his vocal precision; and the two movies had provided both the theory and practice of on-set survival. Once these foundations were tempered, Kang Jae-hoon would eventually become a "one-take" acting fanatic.

As for this kind of idol drama, its only apparent use would be to cleanse Kang Jae-hoon’s eyes—sparing him from having to squat on set all day watching these old Chungmuro veterans dissect scripts.

"But what?" Kang Jae-hoon blinked, waiting for the rest.

"Writer Kim loves actors with 'milk-skin' and fresh faces—" Hwang Jung-min looked at his sun-kissed, wheat-colored skin and scoffed. "With that African refugee look of yours, she’ll probably cast you as a Filipino domestic worker."

As soon as he finished, Hwang Jung-min caught Kang Jae-hoon sneaking a glance at his own arms and kicked him again. "I got tanned from filming! You got tanned running errands for a real estate agency! Do you think that’s the same thing?"

Kang Jae-hoon hopped behind Kim Dae-won, clutching his rear. "I got tanned for a role too! Does the sun not count when it’s for a real estate job?"

"Get lost!"

After kicking him, Hwang Jung-min turned to reach for his cigarette case. The moment he struck his lighter, he caught sight of Kang Jae-hoon happily accepting a cake from Han Hye-jin.

The Korean entertainment industry was like a pot of boiling army stew. The surface was covered in glossy cheese and rice cakes, but underneath, it was all soggy luncheon meat. This was why Hwang Jung-min didn't use his connections to shove Kang Jae-hoon into productions—he felt safer keeping him close. Poor acting could be polished, but if the heart turned corrupt, it would never be clean again.

...

The secondhand Kia rolled over the diamond-shaped light patterns cast by the Han River Bridge cables. The golden sunset light, reflected off the glass curtain walls of Apgujeong, gradually collapsed into the LED sign of a convenience store as the navigation announced, "Turn right ahead."

Kang Jae-hoon bounced the strawberry cake box—the wrap gift from Han Hye-jin—on his knees.

The motion-sensor light in the hallway of their shared apartment flickered to life. The cold light of the refrigerator illuminated the beads of sweat on his nose as he placed the cake in the "sacred" level of the fridge. The moment the door shut, he saw the digital clock switch to 21:17.

It was a rare day that he had arrived home earlier than Lee Sung-kyung.

Kang Jae-hoon flicked on the vanity mirror light.

Lee Sung-kyung’s army of skincare products stood in formation on the moisture-proof shelf—Laneige sleeping mask, Innisfree green tea essence, Sulwhasoo First Care Activating Serum...

"Just borrowing five milliliters..." he promised, raising a hand to the army of bottles.

Ten-oh-seven.

The sound of a key turning came from the entryway. As Lee Sung-kyung pushed the door open, she caught Kang Jae-hoon making faces at the mirror. His pale face glowed with a ghostly, ash-gray tint under the vanity light, looking exactly like a geisha from *Memoirs of a Geisha*.

"Pfft!" She dropped her gym bag and leaned against the doorframe, laughing until she doubled over.

Kang Jae-hoon’s hand, dripping with essence, froze in mid-air. "I-I just wanted to try this..."

Lee Sung-kyung suddenly stopped laughing—the liquid level in the Sekkisei bottle had dropped by a full finger’s width.

"Kang Jae-hoon!" She grabbed him by the collar and hauled him toward the mirror. "Who gave you permission to touch my Sekkisei?!"

Kang Jae-hoon let out a sound like a rooster crowing as the collar tightened. "I only used five milliliters..."

"Five milliliters?" Lee Sung-kyung snatched the bottle and shoved it in his face. "You’ve turned the level marker into the Mariana Trench!"

Kang Jae-hoon raised both hands in surrender. "Writer Kim Eun-sook’s new drama audition... I need to look fair..."

"What drama?"

"*The Heirs*, Kim Dae-won hyung said..."

"...Close your eyes." Lee Sung-kyung suddenly let go, rolling a cotton pad into a ball in her palm. "You got the order of the toner and essence all wrong. What is this, mixing kimchi?"

The force with which the cotton pad wiped his forehead felt like she was waxing a floor. Kang Jae-hoon felt the rhythm of her fingertips tapping against his skin and suddenly grinned. "Sung-kyung, your eyelashes bloom like flowers when you smile! Why do you always keep such a straight face?"

Lee Sung-kyung pressed the cotton pad heavily onto his eyelid. "One more word and I’ll pluck your eyelashes out and embed them in the soles of my high heels."

She tossed the essence-soaked cotton pad aside and slapped a sheet mask onto his face. The silk mask cracked into spiderweb patterns with the rough movement. Through the gaps, Kang Jae-hoon saw her earlobes turning a coral pink.

"Take it off in twenty minutes." Lee Sung-kyung pushed the Sekkisei to the back of the cabinet. "If you dare steal my skincare again—"

"I know, I know, hang me from the Han River Bridge to air-dry..."

The mirror reflected the tips of her hair as she turned, and the uncontrollable curve of her lips leaked into the glow of the warm light.