Upon arriving at the filming location, Heavenly Yuah was the first to greet me.
“Did the filming go well?”
“Yeah, nothing too extraordinary though.”
“…Is that so? It’s somewhat surprising.”
Just by the fact that she immediately brought up the filming, she seemed genuinely curious about the performance I had given for Mother’s Song. I had a playful urge when I saw how much she was preoccupied with the cameo scene with Moon Suyeon, but I held it back. Unless there’s something between me and Heavenly Yuah, it wouldn’t be right to joke around like that in this situation—I’m not that much of a jerk.
Frankly speaking, the reason I tried to avoid filming with these two women is because they both feel an unnatural level of attraction towards me. With how things have twisted, we’re now appearing in competing projects, and we’ve come to this point where a cameo collaboration is required. But if I win this bet, I plan to buy some time.
Thinking about it now, I suspect this might be part of Heavenly Yuah’s greater plan. Considering how we keep finding ourselves in situations where I have to interact with Heavenly Yuah and Moon Suyeon, seemingly against my will.
In this, what’s the point of stepping out on my own and participating in a different project? Truly, she’s a formidable woman. Of course, I still don’t fully understand why she developed feelings for me in the first place.
“Anyway, that’s great. But we might need to request something rather challenging from you on this side.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, a certain writer’s vision for the scene seems quite demanding. From a plausibility standpoint, it’s not bad, but it’s sudden enough to make one nervous.”
“Considering that, Writer Ok should’ve really given you a tough time, Senior Yoo-a.”
It seems like they intend to give me a pretty difficult task on this side of the production. Given what we asked of Heavenly Yuah, it feels only right that I help out with whatever they have in mind. Considering the roles they’ve previously handed her, nothing they assign me now can possibly be harder than acting as an alien.
“…A drug addict?”
“Yes, I feel this request is rather abrupt… but is there a chance you could do it? If not, we can prepare another scene…”
“Wait a second. Let me see the script first.”
It’s a crucial scene, it seems, as the writer themselves has come to wait for me. They quickly handed me the script and explained the scene.
I was taken aback when they asked me to act as a drug addict. Who would have thought they would request something like this from a cameo actor?
The role they want me to play is the late lover of Heavenly Yuah’s character.
This character provides narrative justification for Heavenly Yuah’s character throwing herself wholeheartedly into drug hunting. According to the provided scenario, her lover was forcibly addicted to drugs and eventually took their own life.
The scene I have to perform includes a happy memory shared with Heavenly Yuah and a sequence showcasing the anguish of drug addiction.
Though the happy memory scene isn’t much, portraying drug addiction is a pretty challenging scene, one not easily handed to a cameo actor.
The fact that they didn’t inform me of this scene earlier likely means they were unsure about how to utilize me. Assigning a scene of this significance should warrant sending the script ahead of time—it would benefit them too.
However, I have no intention of turning this scene down. After all, as I mentioned earlier, we had asked more from Heavenly Yuah. Frankly speaking, compared to her alien scene, this drug addiction scene of mine is almost angelic. Given that I have a conscience, I feel I should help out with this at least.
“To play a drug addict, huh? Senior Suyeon told me not to lose myself, but who would have thought this is how I’d be losing myself?”
Drug addiction.
It’s one of those roles that’s rather difficult to pull off. Anyone can look listless, sure.
However, KTD, in which Heavenly Yuah and Yoon Ju-won are giving intense performances, is a drama known for its dense, high-quality acting. Given that I’m just a cameo actor, it wouldn’t do to give a lackluster performance.
Fortunately, I have real experience with drug consumption. In the Martial Forest, druggies existed, albeit secretly.
Even beggars avoided certain individuals, who were truly mad. These druggies fell under that category.
To put it simply, one of the best ways to evade the eyes of the Orthodoxy enforcers was to act like a druggie.
But fooling the Orthodoxy wasn’t easy.
You have to look crazier than real druggies to get away with it. Observing those under drugs’ influence is standard practice, but it didn’t quite feel sufficient.
We were putting everything on the line with our work.
So I tried opium.
Thanks to that, I have a good understanding of how my body reacted, the changes that occur, and the sensations drug addiction brings. Once the practice was done, I used my inner power to purge the toxins from my body.
While it’s an experience I’d rather forget, now that it has led to this opportunity, I’m glad I went through with it.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright with this sudden request?”
“Yeah, it seems doable. Let me give it a shot.”
“If it doesn’t work out, don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”
Like the writer said before, we’ll attempt it first, and if it goes awry, we’ll revise to another scene. Looking at alternative scripts, the scene post-suicide has me playing a corpse. Of course, I don’t mean to belittle such roles, but that’s not a reason for me to be here. Ideally, I’d like to meet their expectations fully with the role on offer.
“Alright then, let’s start filming.”
The PD gave the signal, and I began summoning the image of addicts I had observed and experienced from past memories.
—…Jung Su.
The man could not stay still for a moment. His fingertips were trembling slightly, and his jaw kept clicking.
His facial muscles, unable to be controlled, continuously twitched, causing his expression to intermittently warp and then normalize.
Hallucinations plagued him; strange sounds seemed to surround him.
It was because of his trembling temples and jittery pupils that his condition became obvious.
—Hehehe… No, I… I… Hic…
—…Gaeong-ah, it’s me. Please…
—Gaeong-ah, untie me. I… Ahh…
Jung Su, who had tried his best to fight it, eventually succumbed to the power of drugs.
The man who always grinned and radiated energy was no more. Now, the person restrained here was a pitiful lamb who had lost even himself.
Gaeong, unable to bear the sight of her lover’s distorted pain, finally hung her head and collapsed.
—Gaeong… Ah, untie me. I’m leaving. To find that… Gaeong-ah. It’s me, Jung Su… Untie me now!!
“OK. Well done!”
“…Oh.”
Perhaps the most important aspect of portraying a drug addict would be the emotional instability, hallucinations, and the uncontrollable twitching of the body, akin to a tic disorder.
While the haggard exterior can be covered with makeup or costuming, making your body look like it’s out of control while maintaining control is quite a challenge.
Moreover, most normal actors wouldn’t have constant observations of real drug addicts or experience with drug use.
They may have sought out references, but coming into contact with the real thing isn’t easy.
In my case, I had extensive experience observing real drug addicts and even consumed drugs myself, giving me an edge over other actors.
“Given the reactions, it seems to have gone well.”
As the PD gave the OK signal, exclamations of amazement rang out from different corners. The actors who had gathered to watch nodded in agreement, suggesting my performance was fairly convincing.
A few people came over, including Yoon Ju-won. The top male actor in the industry, pricier than even Heavenly Yuah, approached instead of just idly commenting like, “This guy performed so realistically, he might as well have taken real drugs,” like some of the others did.
He was curious about a different aspect.
“Wow, this is incredible. You really use your facial muscles well.”
“Ah, yes. Well…”
“Oops. Forgive me. I forgot to introduce myself in the excitement. This is amazing. I’m Yoon Ju-won.”
“I know. How many people in Korea don’t recognize you? Nice to meet you, I’m White Siu.”
“Haha, right? That’s not an offensive comment, is it? Oh, wait. No, what I mean is…”
Every actor tends to use their facial muscles well, but in my case, I’m particularly adept at it—almost overwhelmingly so. I’ve received such critiques from Heavenly Yuah herself, pointing out how I use my face too much at times. It’s an inevitable skill you pick up when incorporating facial expressions as part of your everyday practice. Despite that, Yoon Ju-won appeared quite fascinated, claiming he wasn’t as proficient.
Feeling the need to honestly respond to such a likable inquiry from a top actor, I revealed how I had perfected this performance through extensive observation and practice in front of a mirror. I kept it brief and didn’t divulge how I experimented with real opium or the details of my facial muscle training.
Ah, I couldn’t tell him that I have 30 years of experience perfecting expressions that could fool people into drawing swords at a moment’s notice. As a result, my answers felt a bit lacking. Of course, given the circumstances, Yoon Ju-won’s reaction became somewhat awkward.
“Well… That’s true. After all, there’s no royal road to learning. Anyway, thank you for the work today.”
Yoon Ju-won’s character turned out to be much better than I expected. Even though I inadvertently misled him, he responded with great warmth.
He was much more pleasant than Nam Hyun-ho, the official company clown. Nam would likely have thrown a roundhouse kick yelling about how crazy I was.
Had Yoon Ju-won not been a star of a major agency, I might have considered recruiting him.
—Jung Su.
—Gaeong-ah, once this project is over, let’s prepare the wedding.
—Really?
With the drug addiction scene wrapped up, there was one lighter scene left.
A simple scene where the two, Jung Su and Gaeong, who were about to get married, display affection. The physical contact involved nothing extraordinary—just me brushing Heavenly Yuah’s hair as I caressed her ear. The reason Gaeong always tied her hair in a ponytail was to remind herself that her partner, who used to brush her hair like this, was now gone, adding depth to her character.
“OK. Excellent work. Ah, Miss Yu-a, you truly are an incredible actress. Your emotional immersion was superb!”
When I brushed her ear as I combed her hair, her ear turned a deep red.
The flawless way she absorbed her role, as though genuinely touched by her supposed lover’s caress, earned Heavenly Yuah the director’s praise.
Even her body temperature regulation was impeccable.
This… well, okay, good things are good.
I decided to think that Heavenly Yuah’s performance is always perfect and dazzling.
