An Extraordinary Supporting Role
The director suddenly remembered something his professor once said back in college.
"What do you think is the foundation of a work that truly moves people?"
Many answers had come up.A strong narrative, essential love, emotional expression, the writer's intent, and so on.
But the professor's answer had been unexpected.
"Those are all valid points. But all of them must exist in harmony.In any art form, especially film, that's what matters most.No matter how talented an actor is—if the performance doesn't blend with the direction, the audience won't feel it.And no matter how good the direction is—if the actors lack harmony, the piece falls apart."
"You can leave an impression, but you won't move hearts."
That quote resurfaced in the director's mind as he kept his eyes glued to the monitor.
There was no denying it—Mu-yeong's performance was phenomenal.Unbelievably so for a rookie.
But whenever he shared a frame with En-bin…
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing much. And that's the hardest part."
…the energy shifted.
No—that wasn't quite it. It wasn't that Mu-yeong's energy faded; rather, he supported En-bin.The powerful presence that had once threatened to swallow the screen instead lifted up his co-star, helping him shine.
"What should I even call that?"
To be honest, En-bin's acting wasn't particularly great.It was much better than his reading during rehearsals, sure—but still had plenty of rough edges.
"He's fine when he's alone…"
But the moment you put someone stronger beside him, every weakness stands out.
Especially when the "someone stronger" happens to be very skilled.Yet Mu-yeong was different.
When he appeared in the same shot as En-bin, somehow…
"Yeah. Different. Strange."
"You feel it too, Director?"
"I can't quite explain it, but… yeah."
"Maybe it's because they're close? En-bin seems way more comfortable with him than when he acts alone. Could that be it?"
Mu-yeong was deliberately lowering his own energy to match En-bin's frequency—respecting the boundary and balance between lead and supporting roles.
"Hah!"
The director could only stare through the viewfinder, speechless.
He'd met countless actors and hopefuls before,but never one like this.
A completely unheard-of kind of talent.
"Let's get another take—just Mu-yeong this time."
"Got it!"
And when he no longer needed to hold back—when the camera focused on him alone—Mu-yeong transformed again.
Like a predator ready to devour the lens.His eyes pulled in anyone watching, even through the screen.
"Nice, Mu-yeong! Great expression.This time, don't cry—keep it restrained."
"Yes, understood."
He never took a director's note lightly.
His control over presence—his ability to modulate aura and emotion—was insane.That gap between softness and intensity was what made the staff whisper:
"It's… uncanny."
The director toyed with his script, smiling faintly.
"If this goes well, I might just end up being the first director of an incredible actor."
Whether it would become a story of glory or just a funny anecdote over drinks, he couldn't say.But one thing was certain—it was something special.
"Director? You all right?"
"Huh? Oh—yeah. He's good. Really good."
Mu-yeong straightened his outfit and beamed.Then he leaned toward En-bin and whispered:
"Did you hear that? We're amazing."
"You're exaggerating."
"But Bin, when you said that line earlier—"
"Which part?"
"When you handed me the fish cake soup and told me to drink it."
The two chatted like best friends.
Would En-bin realize it someday?That he had managed not to be overshadowed by Mu-yeong—that he had survived that scene?Probably not yet. He didn't have the awareness for that level of acting.
"That line break felt a little awkward. If reaching out is uncomfortable, I can just take it from you instead?"
On top of everything, Mu-yeong was watching En-bin's acting closely, helping him with subtle details.
After editing, En-bin would likely receive comments praising his improvement—compliments about how much his acting had grown.
"Hey, Mu-yeong."
"Yes?"
The director couldn't contain his curiosity anymore.
The kid wasn't just talented—he had good looks too.Why was someone like him only now entering the acting world?
There's no way the people around him hadn't noticed before.
"How long did you say you've been acting?"
"Hmm… I guess three or four months?"
"Were you taking lessons somewhere?"
Mu-yeong's eyes sparkled, as if he'd been waiting for that question.
"Yes! BV Academy!"
"BV? Is that famous?"
"Haha, not really. But they teach really well—it's a small group.The director's super passionate. Oh, he doesn't have much money, but he's got heart!"
He practically shouted the name BV with pride.Hadn't he promised himself over a barbecue dinner that he'd repay the favor someday?
En-bin, chewing on a rice cake, asked casually:
"Anyone famous from there?"
"Famous? Uh… me."
"You? Just you?"
"There's also someone joining MBV's next drama—Kang Bo-ra."
So he had gone to an academy.
The director cut in with interest.
"Then did you learn things like this there?"
"Things like what?"
"You know—like syncing with your co-star's rhythm. Stuff like that."
He couldn't outright say "adjusting your presence."Especially not with En-bin sitting there munching his food, wide-eyed.
Mu-yeong thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"Not really… Is that something you can actually learn?"
He made a mental note to ask his director at BV about it later—if such a class existed, he wanted to take it.
But the director waved his hands.
"No, no. I meant it as a compliment—your chemistry's just that good."
That kind of thing couldn't be taught.No one could give it to you.
It was simply innate.
"A genius, huh."
Mu-yeong smiled brightly at the praise.They say compliments make even whales dance—and neither he nor En-bin had any reason to refuse it.
"Director, about that soup line earlier—"
"Ah, yes?"
"Can we do it again? With Mu-yeong taking it this time."
It had started as a matter he'd pushed aside.Originally, En-bin had only been pretending to care because of his deal with Mu-yeong.But somehow, somewhere along the way, it had become real.He'd been swept up in the positive energy of the set.
"It felt awkward when I said it standing up."
"Sure, go for it. Make it natural."
As En-bin showed his sincerity, the Square Film staff and crew followed suit,their energy lifting higher.
For the sake of a better scene,the discussion—and the collaboration—continued.
"All right, let's pick it up from there!"
With most things wrapped up, the assistant director called for the next take.
Mu-yeong and En-bin turned toward each other, refocusing.
All the lights except the main one went dark.
[#36. Inside the Food Stall]
Jung-su listens quietly as the student continues to vent.He rustles a plastic bag and pulls out Spicy Chicken Ramen and Sikhye (sweet rice drink).(This is a PPL scene.)Then, with a sly wink at the bewildered student—
"When you're stressed, spicy food's the best."
"You're giving that to me?"
"Didn't you say you wanted 'grown-up food'?What's more grown-up than wheat and spice?Oh, and of course, a drink would help too—but it's my first night open, can't close early, right?"
As En-bin said his lines, he started preparing the fiery tteokbokki.
Mu-yeong, staring at him blankly, swallowed hard.
"Now, a soft-boiled egg… and some tuna."
'Let's add some sound later—'
'You mean the noodle-mixing sound?'
'And a close-up on the bowl!'
Outside the scene, reality mirrored the night of the story—already late and quiet.
Mu-yeong smiled faintly at the dish before him.It was such a natural expression that no one could tell whether it was acting or not.
"Thank you for the meal."
He gently stirred the noodles, letting the spicy sauce coat them.The glistening half-boiled egg sat perfectly on top.He scooped a mouthful and opened wide—
Slurp—
The sound of him eating echoed softly across the silent set.
The staff member beside the director whispered:
"Director… he's not supposed to actually finish that, right?"
They needed multiple angles, but—he was eating so earnestly that the director couldn't bring himself to cut.
So this is why people love mukbangs, he thought.Just watching him eat made you feel content.
'Let's keep it as a long take.'
En-bin, in his stall-owner role, smiled as he watched.
Two or three minutes wasn't long by total runtime standards,but Mu-yeong's eating was so captivating that no one wanted to trim it.
Halfway through—
"Sss—haah! Oh, that's spicy!"
Mu-yeong fanned his tongue, twisting his body as if losing his mind from the heat.
Then, without missing a beat, En-bin improvised:
"How is it? Feel the stress melting away?"
It was such a natural ad-lib, like he was an actual stall owner.
Mu-yeong downed his sikhye in one gulp and wiped his teary eyes.No one could tell whether he was crying from the spice or from something deeper.
But his smile was clear as day.
"It feels like… everything's cleared out."
"Okay—cut!"
Even after the cut signal, Mu-yeong kept flicking his tongue out.The crew burst out laughing.
"Director, are you going to use that take?"
The assistant director checked the playback.
"I think it's good. But just in case, get side shots and a ramen close-up.If Mu-yeong eats again, he might actually die from the spice—so we'll fake it in editing."
It could be decided later in post.After all, since it was a food PPL, a long shot might not hurt.
Mu-yeong gulped down the rest of the sikhye, sniffling.
"Wow, that's way spicier than usual!"
"Ah—yeah, the tteokbokki's already spicy enough."
"But Bin handles it fine!"
"I've always been good with spicy food."
"Aaaghhh!"
Mu-yeong stomped his feet and ran circles around the set in mock agony,while the crew ignored him and started filming the food prep and PPL insert shots.
After a while—
"Mu-yeong!"
"Yes!"
His lips were red from the sauce, his makeup smudged by tears.He raised a hand from the corner where he was getting a quick touch-up.At least he seemed alert again.
"Final scene, let's go!"
"Yes, sir! On my way!"
The clock struck 2 a.m.
They'd started shooting at 10 that morning—finally, the end was near.
"Thank you for the meal."
"Was it good?"
"Yes. It was really nice, boss."
Mu-yeong smiled brightly, refreshed, and bowed to En-bin.Then, with firm, confident steps, he walked toward the end of the alley set.
He slipped out of the fake street, disappearing behind the curtain—
And then came the director's triumphant shout:
"Ooo-kay! Cut!"
"Good work, everyone!"
"You all did great!"
"En-bin, excellent job!"
Applause rippled through the crew as they wrapped up.En-bin took off his apron and walked over to Mu-yeong.
"Ha Mu-yeong."
"Ah! It's over! Finally, I can crash."
He still had one solo scene left—a school flashback.But this marked the end of his scenes with En-bin.
"Good work."
"You too."
"Don't forget our deal."
"Of course not. And keep doing well in the shoot."
When the first episode of Midnight Stall went live,Mu-yeong had promised to tell En-bin about the stalker incident.That would be in about two weeks.
En-bin hesitated a moment, then extended his hand.
"Let's grab dinner sometime."
A strange mix of relief and regret welled up in him.He would stay, but Mu-yeong would leave.A personality he'd never encountered in show business before—and somehow, he'd grown fond of him.
"Sure. But you're paying."
"Damn it."
"Haha! The rich one should treat!"
Mu-yeong laughed, clasping En-bin's hand.
His first celebrity friend!And his first finished shoot!
From across the set, the team leader waved him over—a white envelope in hand.
"First paycheck!"
"Oh yeah—!"
Unable to contain his excitement,Mu-yeong bounded toward him in joyous leaps.