“Then, excuse me. I’ll help myself to some food.”
As soon as Taehoon refused, the paramedic swiftly devoured two triangular kimbaps.
“Oh, by the way, you’re really handsome. Let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Park Jungho. I’ve been working as an extra for five years now.”
Park Jungho confidently spoke, returning with a red rice grain stuck to his lips.
“Five years. That’s impressive. Yes, I’m Lee Jae…”
“Lee?”
[Beep – This is Ki Taehoon.]
“Oh, I mean, I’m Ki Taehoon now.”
Park Jungho smiled.
“This must be your first time working as an extra. You see, acting is something you just can’t quit. The pay is low, but when you’re on set, you feel alive.”
‘That part, I can relate to.’
Mulling over the idea of only feeling alive when acting, Taehoon continued,
“My family tells me to get my life together, but I just love acting so much… Ah… ugh.”
“You don’t look well. Are you okay?”
“Taehoon, I’m sorry, but could you hold this outfit for a moment? Suddenly, ugh…”
Park Jungho clutched his stomach. His face was in agony, and—
Grrrrk… Blurp… Pfffft.
A strange sound erupted. It sounded like something was being forcefully expelled.
[Odor analysis: Jeonju bibimbap 73%, tuna mayo 27%.]
‘Don’t analyze that kind of thing.’
Taehoon almost furrowed his brows, but as a top actor, he kept a straight face.
“Are you okay? Do you feel unwell?”
Park Jungho appreciated Taehoon’s concern, but with something threatening to burst out at any moment, he hastily handed over the paramedic uniform and rushed to the bathroom.
That’s when it happened.
“Scene 29, paramedic! Patient, please come this way!”
The assistant director’s voice rang through the megaphone. Taehoon glanced at the restroom.
“Huh…?”
“Hurry up! What are you doing? Why are you alone again? Come on, quickly!”
The assistant director spotted Taehoon from afar and, clearly frustrated, grabbed his wrist and pulled him.
“Uh, that guy who ate the Jeonju bibimbap…”
“What are you talking about? Hurry up!”
And just like that, Ki Taehoon was suddenly promoted from “Patient 1” to “Paramedic.”
“Uh…?”
Was this really okay?
Taehoon was helplessly dragged along by the assistant director’s overwhelming force.
“What are you doing? Hurry and change! Why are you just holding the uniform?”
In Taehoon’s hands was the 119 paramedic uniform.
“I was actually supposed to be the patient—”
“Oh, you don’t have time to be sick right now! The director is already furious about the delay, so just do it without any mistakes. You’ve memorized the script, right?”
They’re not even listening.
Fortunately, Taehoon knew the paramedic’s lines since they were relatively short.
Before he could even finish his reply, the assistant director shoved him toward the dressing area.
As soon as he changed, they loaded him into the ambulance.
Although they had waited over three hours for their turn, the actual filming process was lightning-fast.
The assistant director wiped his sweaty forehead and grumbled, “Where the hell is the patient now?” before scurrying off to find another extra.
Inside the ambulance, the props team had done an excellent job setting up the medical equipment.
‘Standby soon.’
About 30 seconds later—
A voice boomed from the speaker.
“Where the hell is the patient?!! Assistant director!!!”
“Yes, yes! The patient is here, Director!”
A new extra, now in patient attire, had arrived.
It wasn’t Park Jungho, who had rushed to the restroom earlier.
“We start in one minute. Standby for the cue.”
The assistant director left.
The new patient extra looked uneasy.
“I was just thrown into this. I haven’t even read the script… What should I do?”
[This is bad.]
‘Bad? Come on.’
“Just don’t say anything. Grimace, cough a little, and hold your ribs. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Is that okay? Thank you so much.”
Taehoon reassured the suddenly cast patient.
[Activating spectator mode!!]
‘Can’t I disable that? Fine, just stay quiet and watch.’
And so, the filming began.
“Scene 29, ready—action!”
“Sir, can you hear me?”
The patient grimaced and clutched his ribs.
“You’re feeling pain in your right rib area, correct?”
The patient coughed.
“Your ribs might be injured, and it may be hard to breathe. But don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you until we reach the hospital.”
Taehoon spoke slowly and clearly, enunciating each word to ensure the disoriented patient could understand and feel reassured.
Speaking in a precise yet comforting voice, just like a real paramedic.
Taehoon turned to the driver’s seat.
“The patient is awake. How long until we reach Shinyang Hospital’s emergency room? Five minutes? Got it. Please drive carefully.”
Then, looking back at the patient with warm eyes, he reassured him.
“We’re five minutes away from the closest and largest hospital. They’ve already been informed and are preparing for your arrival. Try to take slow, deep breaths, and cough gently, okay?”
His voice was calm yet firm.
“Hello, is this Shinyang Hospital’s ER? We have a patient with a suspected costal fracture due to a fall. Estimated arrival in five minutes. Patient is conscious. Oh, yes, you’re preparing? Thank you.”
He paused between phrases, making it seem like a real phone conversation, despite talking to no one.
And when mentioning “costal fracture,” a difficult medical term, he slightly lowered his voice—just in case the patient might overhear and get anxious.
Director Jung Youngjae was stunned.
‘What the hell? How is an extra acting like this?’
But what really shocked the perfectionist director wasn’t that.
‘Wait… the patient didn’t say a single line? And I didn’t even notice until the scene was over?’
Jung Youngjae, known for his meticulousness and obsession with keeping filming on schedule, licked his dry lips.
The staff constantly walked on eggshells around him, fearing his strict control over the set.
But here was an extra delivering unscripted lines?
He hurriedly searched for Scene 29 in the script.
Normally, the scene would progress with a dialogue exchange between the patient and the paramedic.
But for some reason, the paramedic was leading the scene alone.
‘This is practically a one-man show!’
It was different from the script, but so realistic that it was hard to notice.
“Cut!”
The cut signal came a little late.
Director Jung Young-jae called the assistant director.
“Did you call a real paramedic?”
“Huh? I don’t think so. Hold on.”
The assistant director flipped through the documents in his hands and said,“This guy, Park Jung-ho… He’s actually a bit-part actor.”
“What? So he’s just a bit-part actor?”
Though the mask covered more than half of his small face in the paramedic’s uniform, Jung Young-jae could tell.
‘Why is he this good-looking? With acting like that and a face like this, it’s a waste to cast him as a minor role.’
A tiny face, sharp eyes, thick eyebrows, a high nose bridge.
‘…..’
Jung Young-jae was deep in thought.
The set was already bustling, moving on to the next scene.
He wanted to stop everything and give him a different role.
‘Since he’s wearing a mask anyway, no one will recognize him. Should I just recycle him for another role?’
He hesitated for a moment but quickly shook his head.
‘No, no. The internet sleuths these days are way too meticulous. And with that face…
Damn. What a shame. Seriously.’
“Assistant director, bring that guy over here for a second.”
The assistant director, who was moving busily, rushed over.
“Which one?”
“Are you kidding me? How do you work with that kind of awareness? Obviously, the paramedic.”
The assistant director, scolded for no reason, ran off again.
When Ki Tae-hoon stood in front of him, Director Jung asked,
“Where are you from?”
Ki Tae-hoon, misunderstanding the question, replied,
“I came here by car from home.”
“No, which agency?”
[Gamga Entertainment—]
“Gamga Entertainment…”
[I left there the other day.]
“Oh, so you’re just a freelancer now?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a shame. If I had known sooner, I would’ve given you a better role…”
The assistant director returned.
“Director, we’re ready now.”
Jung Young-jae responded irritably.
“I know. Just wait a bit.”
Then he turned back to Tae-hoon.
“Our station, KBC, has a drama coming up soon. How about appearing in it?
No, actually, hold on a second.”
He pulled out his phone and called someone.
“Hey, Choi PD, it’s me.
Yeah, nothing much. Do you have any spots left for supporting or lead roles?
What? They’re all cast already?
Then how about a major minor role?
An audition? Why hold an audition? I’m trying to recommend someone.
There’s no need for an audition.
Come on, man!
Fine, got it. Just send me the time and location.Yeah, thanks. Hang in there.”
Jung Young-jae had a way of making phone calls that let everyone know what was happening.
“What’s your name?”
“Ki Tae-hoon.”
“I see. Leave me your number, and I’ll text you the audition schedule.”
It wasn’t quite formal speech, but not informal either—it was a compliment that felt good to hear.
After all, he was offering an opportunity.
“Director, we’re really running out of time now…”
“I know, I know! And assistant director, double his pay.”
“Yes! That’ll be 200,000 won.”
For a moment, Tae-hoon felt excited, but the amount quickly brought him back to reality.
“200,000 won… Is that just for transportation costs? This industry really is tough.”
[You have successfully seized your last opportunity. Reward: You will continue living as Ki Tae-hoon.]
So he had secured his survival.
It had been a long and exhausting day.
Tae-hoon left the filming site. He had arrived at 9 AM, but the sun was already setting—it was past 5 PM.
Just then, a car honked.
Honk!
“Hey, Ki Tae-hoon, get in already!”
It was Yoon Sung-woo.
“Weren’t you planning to move to the countryside?”
“Ugh, yeah, but I figured you’d be exhausted from all the scolding today.
I should at least give you a ride home.”
Sung-woo assumed that Tae-hoon had been reprimanded on set.
He had probably been waiting for more than eight hours.
Inside the car, Tae-hoon noticed an empty burger wrapper and a cola bottle.
It made him feel grateful.
Sung-woo dropped him off in front of his rooftop room.
“So where are you going now?”
“Yeah, I’m heading back to my hometown. Oh, and give me that 50,000 won I lent you for transportation.”
Sung-woo snatched the bill, put it in his wallet, and then, acting generous, pulled out 12,000 won.
“Feeling stiff? Use this to get some hangover soup, a special portion. Your stomach must be upset.
I’m really leaving now. And from now on, call me ‘hyung’ (big brother).”
“Okay. Take care, hyung.”
“Next time, brat.”
Sung-woo laughed and drove away.
Tae-hoon returned to his rooftop room.
After showering,
Ding-dong!
A message arrived.
[Butter Campus Audition Schedule]
Date: March 10th, 10 AM
Preparation: 1-minute monologue & self-introduction
Location: 3388, Yeoksam-dong, Gangnam-gu
Download the script from the link below and prepare:
https://ddd.ddd.dd.dd
Forgetting his exhaustion, Tae-hoon downloaded the audition script without hesitation.