Chapter 32: The Poster Shoot

Just like he had felt during commercial shoots, a set like this was absolute chaos.

Everyone moved quickly, and if Woo-joo didn’t want to slow things down, he had no choice but to keep up.

As a result, while changing clothes and getting his hair done, he was constantly surrounded by staff.

“Those who are ready first, please come out for a short interview!”

At the writer’s call, Ji-tae was the first to stand.

He must have finished changing relatively quickly, because he left the waiting room ahead of Woo-joo.

As soon as he stepped into the studio, the busy staff’s attention naturally shifted toward him.

A perfectly tailored suit.

Hair half swept back.

An expressionless face.

It was a look that inevitably drew eyes.

And that included the production crew of Living Together as Two.

They were probably more used to seeing his unfiltered, everyday self during variety filming.

“Actor, please come this way.”

“Yes.”

With all eyes on him, Ji-tae moved forward.

Among the staff, faint murmurs of admiration—“As expected of Won Ji-tae”—could be heard.

Honestly, this environment was far more familiar to him than variety filming.

Back when he was modeling, photoshoots and magazine spreads had been routine.

“We’ll just get a few quick interview questions about today’s shoot.”

Ji-tae stood to one side of the studio.

The writer stood behind the camera and began asking questions.

Ji-tae answered with a slightly awkward smile.

Of course, his expressions and gestures were practically acting.

He said he hadn’t expected to shoot a poster for the program, that although he was used to photoshoots, today felt different—smooth, believable responses.

“Alright, last question.”

The studio was almost ready.

“You and Player Kang are always bickering. How do you think this shoot together will feel?”

“Hmm, well.”

Ji-tae smiled gently at the question.

After a brief expression of feigned hesitation, he spoke slowly.

“First of all, I suppose we’ll have to be careful not to fight on set. It’s been a while since we’ve properly dressed up for something like this, so I’m actually looking forward to it a bit……”

He continued with safe, ordinary answers.

Then, from the neighboring studio space, staff began murmuring again.

The same reaction as when Ji-tae had first walked out.

“Anyway, we’ll do our best for the shoot—”

Ji-tae turned his head absentmindedly toward the sound.

And at that moment, his body stiffened.

The faint smile on his face slowly faded.

“Wow, Player Kang. You look incredible.”

“The suit fits you so well.”

“Ah… you don’t have to flatter me.”

Woo-joo laughed awkwardly.

His playful response made the staff laugh.

Ji-tae’s gaze locked onto one single spot.

Amid the crowd stood Kang Woo-joo—

Dressed neatly in a suit from head to toe, hair swept back unlike usual.

His solid build and striking proportions shone even more in formalwear.

At home, he only wore comfortable clothes.

Seeing him like this made it impossible to look away.

The moment Ji-tae’s eyes settled on Woo-joo, everyone else blurred into indistinct dots.

There was only one figure left in focus.

Only Kang Woo-joo.

His heart pounded wildly.

It felt as if the temperature of his blood was rising.

An urge surged up—to pull Woo-joo close and hide him from everyone’s view.

To keep him unseen.

In that instant, Woo-joo was Ji-tae’s entire universe.

“……”

“Uh… Actor?”

Everyone surrounded Woo-joo.

All eyes were on him.

They were looking at him the same way.

Ji-tae even noticed the reddened ears of a few staff members.

Something boiled inside him.

“Actor?”

The writer and cameraman panicked.

Ji-tae had suddenly walked off mid-answer toward the studio area.

“Kang Woo-joo……”

Pushing through the staff, Ji-tae grabbed Woo-joo’s shoulder and turned him around.

A face that felt unfamiliar looked back at him.

A clean forehead fully revealed.

A sharp, polished look.

Ji-tae clenched his fist tightly.

“Huh? What?”

Woo-joo asked.

Only then did Ji-tae glance around.

The staff were all staring at him curiously.

His runaway reason snapped back into place.

“…They’re calling you for the interview.”

“Oh, right.”

Woo-joo clapped his hands as if remembering.

He brushed past Ji-tae.

Whether it was cologne, hair wax, or makeup, a fresh, unfamiliar scent lingered.

It left Ji-tae with a strange feeling.

The main shoot began.

Ji-tae, as if nothing had happened, slipped seamlessly into professional mode.

It was on a completely different level from how he acted at home.

For some reason, Woo-joo found it hard to take his eyes off him.

Thankfully, Woo-joo soon gathered himself and followed along well.

His prior experience with commercial shoots must have helped—

It wasn’t as difficult as he had feared.

In fact, the night before, he had studied posters from other programs, observing the expressions of the cast.

He didn’t want to cause trouble.

If he couldn’t keep up, it would delay the schedule.

People called him a genius volleyball player.

But he never truly agreed with that.

Perhaps those people had never seen a real, born genius.

What Woo-joo was good at was observing and learning.

And once he decided to do something, he had the persistence not to give up easily.

This shoot was just another extension of that.

“Alright, Ji-tae, your expression is great, but can you move a bit closer to Woo-joo? There’s too much distance between you.”

Yes.

Woo-joo had thought that as long as he did his part well, there wouldn’t be any problem.

After all, Won Ji-tae had modeling experience and was now an actor.

Photoshoots should be second nature to him.

“Okay.”

“No, a bit closer.”

The photographer gestured more emphatically.

“Hey, he said move closer.”

“Yeah.”

But why did it feel like this guy was suddenly awkward?

Ji-tae turned his head.

He let out a small sigh before closing the distance abruptly.

“That’s it! Good! Let’s go with that!”

The writer clapped, satisfied.

“Great expressions! Now look to the opposite side.”

Woo-joo followed the directions obediently, but his thoughts lingered.

What was that sigh earlier?

He definitely sighed.

After that, the shoot continued smoothly.

But the smoother it went, the more Woo-joo couldn’t shake the feeling from before.

“Alright, we’ve got the A-cut. Let’s take a short break, change outfits, and continue!”

At the cue, the staff moved swiftly again.

“Kang Woo-joo, drink this when you can. You won’t get tired that way.”

The moment the break was called, Ji-tae approached him with a rough tone and handed him coffee.

“…Aren’t you tired?”

He then squeezed himself into the seat next to Woo-joo.

Woo-joo stared down at the drink in his hand.

“No.”

He turned to look at Ji-tae.

There wasn’t anything obviously different about him.

He was acting professionally.

In front of others, he wasn’t grumbling or picking fights like usual.

In fact, he was smiling brightly at staff and chatting naturally—completely different from how he acted at their place.

Just like when they went grocery shopping together and he had smiled sweetly at a young female fan.

It was still unfamiliar.

But this time, the feeling was different.

Back then, it had been simple surprise and awkwardness.

Now—

It was suffocating.

Irritating.

“Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Ji-tae leaned back slightly.

Woo-joo narrowed his eyes.

There was only one way to describe what he was feeling.

“You’re annoying.”

“What?”

Ji-tae blinked dumbly.

“The way you’re smiling. It’s annoying.”

“…Why are you picking a fight all of a sudden? Weren’t you the one who said we should get along today?”

“It’s just how I feel.”

Woo-joo stood abruptly and walked off.

Ji-tae stared after him.

Then, from above, he sensed someone approaching.