Chapter 59: An Impulse He Couldn’t Explain

It was after the second NG.

The director’s sharp rebuke finally fell squarely on Baek Yeon-ah.

His shouting was so loud that even Wooju, standing far away, flinched.

It was understandable to grow sensitive when filming wasn’t progressing, but did he really have to yell like that?

At this rate, even what could have worked might not work at all.

Wooju watched Baek Yeon-ah, who looked flustered and unsure what to do, with a troubled expression.

“That director is really picky.

Even the smallest NG and he roars like a tiger.”

Seol-ah clicked her tongue, seemingly thinking the same.

The director continued with harsh remarks—saying this was why you shouldn’t cast rookies, that someone who calls herself an actress couldn’t even deliver a single-line ad properly.

It wasn’t constructive criticism.

It was close to outright condemnation.

“That’s enough, let’s take a break!”

Filming was halted.

Seol-ah rushed over to check Ji-tae’s makeup.

Baek Yeon-ah stood surrounded by staff, appearing to receive comfort.

Wooju understood that feeling all too well.

During his rookie days, being harshly scolded by directors had been common.

There had even been times when he completely lost his composure during a match after getting yelled at, only to be substituted out.

Even when teammates comforted him, it hadn’t helped much.

Watching her with sympathy, Wooju waited for Ji-tae to come out.

Ji-tae hadn’t eaten properly that morning, so Wooju planned to use the break to get him something.

He gathered snacks, but something felt off.

By now, Ji-tae should have come running over, calling his name.

Looking closely, he saw Ji-tae talking with Baek Yeon-ah.

Soon, the two stepped away from the staff and went to sit together on a bench tucked into a corner.

“…….”

Wooju blinked, taking in the scene.

It was the first time he had seen Won Ji-tae sit privately with someone else like that.

During the previous photoshoot, he had seen him chat comfortably with Writer Baek, but that had clearly been work-related familiarity.

Did Ji-tae have personal ties with Baek Yeon-ah?

But hadn’t he once said he didn’t really have anyone he could call a friend?

And judging by their earlier greeting, they seemed to have just met today.

Then why were they sitting side by side, talking like that during a break?

It wasn’t filming time.

Thinking back, even when there had been downtime at the photoshoot, Ji-tae had either rested in the waiting room, discussed work, or come over to pick at Wooju.

Seeing him with someone else felt strangely foreign.

What were they talking about that kept them sitting so close?

As he stared, Seol-ah suddenly tapped his shoulder.

“Oppa, you’re zoning out a lot today.”

“Am I?”

He must have looked out of it, because she even asked if he was feeling unwell.

Wooju waved his hands, denying it.

After all, what did it matter if they were talking?

Wooju forced himself to look away.

If they were going to act together, they needed chemistry.

Talking during a break wasn’t strange.

It was like discussing strategy with teammates during a volleyball timeout.

Or maybe the co-star simply had something to say to Ji-tae.

Without realizing it, Wooju began rationalizing the sight of them sitting together.

“Seol-ah.”

“Yes?”

“That… Won Ji-tae……”

“Oh, Ji-tae oppa?

He’s talking over there.

He called Baek Yeon-ah over to speak privately.”

“…What?”

Seol-ah added that it seemed like a serious conversation, so she had given them space.

“Ji-tae asked her first?”

“Yes.

It’s kind of surprising.

He usually doesn’t do that with co-stars.”

One of Wooju’s carefully built assumptions shattered instantly.

If he normally didn’t act like that, then what did this mean?

A well-matched pair.

Won Ji-tae behaving differently than usual.

There was only one explanation that made sense.

No matter how he looked at it, Ji-tae seemed to have feelings for her.

Well, considering they were both in their twenties, attractive by anyone’s standards, and spending long hours filming together, wouldn’t it be stranger if no feelings developed?

It just felt strange that it applied to Won Ji-tae too.

Wooju stared blankly at Ji-tae laughing and talking with her.

By the time that uncomfortable realization settled in, filming resumed.

The director’s mood kept the atmosphere tense.

Everyone silently prayed Baek Yeon-ah wouldn’t make another mistake.

Thankfully, she delivered her lines well after that.

The director’s expression gradually eased, and filming wrapped up smoothly without further interruptions.

“Good work.”

“Yeah.

You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The shoot ran long.”

Wooju shrugged, saying it was nothing.

Ji-tae’s schedule for the day was finished.

All that remained was heading home after the production team wrapped up.

Just then, someone hurried over and grabbed Ji-tae’s sleeve.

“Um… sunbae.

Thank you so much earlier.”

At Baek Yeon-ah’s sudden appearance, Ji-tae glanced once at Wooju before smiling.

“I don’t think I did anything that deserves thanks.

You worked hard, Yeon-ah.”

“No!

Because of you, I could focus better.

And thank you for the advice about delivering the line…

If it’s not too much to ask, could we exchange numbers?

I’m starting a drama soon and would love to get acting advice……”

Humans may be capable of hiding emotions, but there are some that slip through easily.

From primal ones like anger and sadness, to fondness and love.

No matter how much you try to conceal them, they sometimes shine through.

Like right now, in Baek Yeon-ah’s sparkling eyes as she looked up at Ji-tae.

The fondness was obvious.

She was only twenty-one.

Perhaps still unpracticed at hiding feelings.

Wooju found himself recalling the image of the two sitting side by side earlier.

If Ji-tae had feelings too, then giving her private advice made sense.

Wasn’t this a good thing for them?

Then maybe the right thing to do now was to quietly excuse himself.

“Would that be okay?”

What would Ji-tae say?

Of course he’d agree.

They’d exchange numbers.

Maybe start texting.

Imagining it made Wooju’s chest tighten unpleasantly.

Ji-tae slipped his hand into his pocket.

He had recently replaced his broken phone with a new one.

Just as it appeared in his hand—

Wooju strode over and grabbed Ji-tae’s wrist.

“…Kang Wooju?”

Both Ji-tae and Baek Yeon-ah stared at him, startled.

Wooju knew this was impulsive.

They were looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

But he couldn’t say, I reached out without thinking.

“There are a lot of eyes around right now……”

“Ah……”

Baek Yeon-ah glanced around.

Staff were still packing up equipment nearby.

Not that anyone would necessarily care about two co-stars talking.

“And we have to head to our next schedule.

We’re a bit pressed for time.”

Ji-tae tilted his head, staring at Wooju’s profile.

“Our next schedule?

We don’t have—”

Before he could finish, Wooju clamped a hand over his mouth.

Ji-tae’s lips hit his palm, and he glared at him in disbelief.

Baek Yeon-ah looked equally stunned.

“Oh!

I’m so sorry.

I shouldn’t have kept you.

Thank you again today, sunbae.”

Realizing the situation, she spoke quickly and bowed politely before leaving.

As Wooju watched her retreating figure, an inexplicable guilt crept in.

What had he just done to someone younger than him?

Before he could process it, he felt his hand being pushed away.

Startled, he turned his head.

The hand he had extended to stop Ji-tae now hovered awkwardly in midair.

Ji-tae’s brows were faintly furrowed.

And suddenly, Wooju remembered—

The moment earlier when he had tried to remove an eyelash, only to be brushed aside.