Chapter 50: A Smile Meant for Someone Else

That was why he had no choice but to admit it.

Too many people had already told him the same thing for him to argue, “How can others know everything about me better than I do?”

But for some reason, he could clearly read only Won Ji-tae’s smiling expression.

More precisely, he could tell exactly whether the smile in front of him was sincere or merely something put on without a trace of real emotion.

“Even if today’s shoot is tough, I won’t go easy on you.

Anyway, let’s do well.

It’s been a while.”

“Okay.”

And at least right now, the smile Ji-tae was wearing in front of Baek Su-hyeok was genuine.

A heartfelt smile.

Perhaps that was the reason Woo-joo couldn’t take his eyes off him.

It wasn’t the handsome face or the bold outfit from earlier, but the expression alone that captured all his attention.

Thinking about it, in all the years he had known Won Ji-tae, had he ever seen him smile that comfortably?

If anything, Ji-tae was someone whose expressions rarely changed.

Well, maybe there were moments he simply couldn’t remember.

After all, Ji-tae was human too.

It wasn’t as if he lived without ever smiling.

“Not once in front of me, though.”

Woo-joo muttered unconsciously under his breath.

Only after the words left him did he snap back to his senses and flinch.

Why did that even matter?

As he stared at Ji-tae again with a slightly serious face, their eyes met.

Usually, whenever their gazes locked, Ji-tae was the one who looked away first.

But this time, Woo-joo turned his head first.

“Alright, we’ll begin the shoot now!”

At the staff member’s announcement, Ji-tae stepped in front of the camera with practiced ease.

Though he had turned away, Woo-joo couldn’t help but look back in that direction.

The lights, the staff’s gazes, the camera lens.

Everything was focused on a single person.

He had never seen how Ji-tae worked from the perspective of a third party like this.

After graduating high school, they hadn’t met or crossed paths for nearly seven years.

Woo-joo had been busy building his career as a volleyball player overseas before returning to the domestic league.

Occasionally, he would see Ji-tae in advertisements on his phone or television, or on pictorials hung along department store walls.

But his only thought had been, “Celebrities really are different.”

Maybe that reaction came from not being used to the version of him known as “Actor Won Ji-tae,” almost as if he were treating him like a stranger or someone who didn’t exist.

Because of that, Woo-joo knew nothing about Ji-tae’s career path, even though other teammates seemed surprisingly well informed.

“Look at this lens once!”

In other words, this was his first time.

The first time seeing Won Ji-tae—who had succeeded as both an actor and a model—at work in person.

It felt as though he had briefly stepped into Ji-tae’s world.

He couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Watching him from outside the set as just one among countless gazes felt different from the simple thought of, “He’s a celebrity.”

It was harder to put into words.

“Let’s try a slight smile.

Yes, just like that.”

Every expression, every small gesture.

Even to Woo-joo, a complete non-professional, everything looked clean and flawless.

Whenever Baek gave passionate directions, Ji-tae absorbed them perfectly, like a sponge soaking up water.

He was the embodiment of understanding perfectly even vague instructions.

Of course, that didn’t mean Baek’s directions were vague at all.

Before long, even the staff watching nearby had their eyes completely stolen by Ji-tae.

Some of them discreetly captured him on their phones.

“He’s really good.”

“He’s insanely handsome.”

They murmured such words almost unconsciously.

Even without flashy accessories or an elaborate set, it felt as though a brilliant light poured down around Won Ji-tae alone.

It was almost an illusion that everything surrounding him existed solely for his sake.

As if captivated by that light, Woo-joo stood there blankly, taking in Ji-tae’s figure.

“Manager!

Would you like some of this?”

Someone approached from the side.

Woo-joo recognized her as Seol-ah, one of Ji-tae’s staff members introduced earlier, and looked at the cookie in her hand.

“Today’s shoot is going to be pretty intense, so it’s good to snack in between.”

“Ah, thank you.”

Woo-joo bowed his head slightly.

She looked about the same age as Saet-byeol.

Watching Seol-ah secretly pop cookies into her own mouth, Woo-joo felt an odd sense of familiarity.

“Ji-tae, that was good earlier, but this time I want you to completely strip the emotion from your face.

Yes, just like that!”

Baek’s voice was more excited than before.

Since Ji-tae absorbed every direction so well, his enthusiasm seemed to rise naturally.

Woo-joo understood that feeling deep down.

When teammates successfully turned desperate sets into points during a critical moment, he would feel twice as fired up himself.

Even to an amateur like Woo-joo, Ji-tae right now looked like a fish in water.

One could only imagine how he appeared in Baek’s eyes.

Suddenly, Woo-joo recalled the time Ji-tae had gone through an entire match without a single service error, breaking through every block to score.

“Wow, Writer Baek is totally fired up.”

Seol-ah giggled beside him, pulling Woo-joo out of his thoughts.

Come to think of it, he had unconsciously drifted back to memories of Ji-tae again.

Ji-tae occasionally reviewed the shots with Baek between takes.

Then the call came to take a short break.

It seemed they were moving on to the next outfit.

Ji-tae headed into the waiting room with Seol-ah.

The filming team followed to capture the preparation process.

“Writer, have this while you work.”

Taking the opportunity, Woo-joo approached Baek and handed him an ion drink.

“Wow, thank you.

Woo-joo, you’ve got good sense for someone doing manager work for the first time.”

“I have to at least do this much well.”

On the computer connected to the camera, the photos just taken of Ji-tae were displayed large on the screen.

“What do you think?”

As if noticing Woo-joo’s gaze, Baek suddenly asked.

“Well… I’m not a professional, but he looks amazing.

It’s like you can’t stop looking at him.

He really draws your eyes.”

“You’ve got a good eye.”

Baek grinned.

He went on to show various B-cuts as well.

“Honestly, I used to think Ji-tae should’ve kept modeling.

Talent like this is rare.”

But Ji-tae was now an actor, and even in that field, he was gradually earning recognition.

If even a famous photographer coveted him like this, then Ji-tae must have been quite capable as a model too.

“If you’re saying that much, he must’ve been really good at modeling too.”

“Haha, at first he was a complete disaster.”

Baek looked up into the air as if recalling the past and laughed heartily.

A disaster?

The word didn’t match at all, and curiosity quickly filled Woo-joo’s eyes.

“When Ji-tae first debuted as a model, there was a huge buzz that a gem had appeared.

With that face and those proportions, it would’ve been strange if there wasn’t an uproar.”

Woo-joo slowly nodded.

He had no objections to that.

“But do you know what nickname stuck to him that year?”

“What was it?”

“A model with nothing but good looks, stiff as a log.”

Anyone could tell that wasn’t a compliment.

And it didn’t suit the person in the photos on the screen at all.

It almost sounded like a joke meant to tease Woo-joo.

“He did okay on the runway, but whenever it came to pictorials, his expressions were all the same and his poses were stale.

So back then, he didn’t hear many good things.”

Woo-joo could roughly understand.

In any field, people wanted a finished product.

Even if growth was seen as positive, in a world ruled by professionals, it wasn’t always welcomed.

No matter how unreal his external visuals were, if his modeling sense was lacking, few would keep capturing him with their cameras.

“I first saw Ji-tae when I visited a senior photographer’s set.

He was getting chewed out pretty badly, so out of curiosity, I watched him shoot.

That’s when I realized something.

Ji-tae didn’t lack talent.

He just didn’t know how to use it or what approach to take.”

After that, Baek gradually opened up conversations with Ji-tae, giving him advice and guidance.

At the time, Ji-tae had been lost as a model, and Baek took on the role of a mentor.

He shared reference materials and even brought him along to different sets.

“But the way Ji-tae learned was unbelievable.

At first, I only helped him a little because I felt bad for him.

But eventually, I started wanting to work with him myself.

So we released a pictorial collection together, and that’s when things really took off.”

Woo-joo recalled what another writer had mentioned earlier.

That Baek, who had already been somewhat known at the time, had risen to major prominence through one particular project.

He hadn’t realized that project had been the result of working with Won Ji-tae.