Chapter 6.1

Chapter 6.1

Sitting on a folding chair, the director, Byungjin, gulped down the vending machine coffee in one go and tilted his head to look at Miran. His hair was a mess, as if it had been yanked around, and his clothes reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke.

Scratching his patchy, unshaven chin, he leaned to one side, rummaging through his pockets. He pulled out a flattened blue cigarette pack, widened the opening, and tapped it against his palm. A single cigarette protruded.

“Da.mn, it’s a dud.”

With the bent cigarette between his lips, he crushed the paper pack and threw it on the floor. The assistant director, standing beside Miran, quickly offered a light. Byungjin lit his cigarette and exhaled thick smoke.

“Are you mixed?”

With the rasp of a heavy smoker, Byungjin asked.

“No, I’m pure Korean.”

Miran answered boldly, accustomed to the question. His glossy eyes roamed over her unabashedly. Miran resisted the urge to hide behind the burly assistant director and clasped her hands firmly. She couldn’t shake off Seunghyuk’s warning about Director Byungjin’s bad reputation.

“Really? You have an exotic look for a native.”

When Miran hesitated to respond, Byungjin blew smoke through his nose and chuckled.

“It means you look good on camera. What are your measurements?”

“What?”

When Miran asked again, he replied irritably, as if tired.

“Your bust, waist, hips.”

“Uh… 35, 23, 35.”

Miran answered in a barely audible voice. His face brightened slightly as he traced the curves of her body with his hand.

“Oh my, a rare glamour in Korea. What did you say your name was?”

“Kang Miran, Director!”

“Ah, right.”

The assistant director added smoothly.

“Director, she’s the kid Hyuna brought.”

As if on cue, Hyuna, who had been lingering behind the assistant director, peeked her head out.

“Director, hello!”

Miran turned to look at Hyuna in surprise. She had never heard her speak in such a coquettish tone before. Byungjin squinted his eyes, looking Hyuna up and down, then smacked his lips as if he remembered.

“Ah, right. Hyuna. Come over here.”

As soon as Hyuna stepped up to Byungjin, he grabbed her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. Miran’s jaw dropped at the sight.

“She’s the one you brought? Thank you.”

“Yes, Director. I chose the one who would fit the role best.”

Byungjin suddenly gestured towards Miran.

“Hey, Kang… Kang! Come stand next to Hyuna.”

Miran hesitantly moved to stand next to Hyuna. Byungjin grabbed her hand as well. His palm was sticky and warm, sending shivers down her spine. But Miran didn’t want to seem out of place by pulling her hand away while Hyuna stood still, so she awkwardly stood there with her head bowed.

Byungjin’s bloodshot eyes darted back and forth between the two women. He licked his lips and grinned, then called out loudly to the assistant director.

“Seongho! Bring the script over here. Seeing these two side by side, da.mn, this is perfect for the room salon scene. Let’s just tweak a few lines.”

Seongho quickly ran off and returned with a battered script clipped together with a silver binder. Byungjin finally released their hands to take the script. Flipping through it, he stopped in the middle and began scribbling on it with a pen from his front pocket.

Miran stepped back, quietly relieved, and discreetly wiped her hand on her skirt. She felt an inexplicable sense of discomfort but couldn’t show it in front of a famous and powerful director who had won an award at an international film festival.

On a film set, the director was like a god. You had to do whatever he asked.

“You know the scene where Park Doo-shik takes over Beomseoryong and throws a party at the Choya Salon, right? Let’s change it up and include Chorong for a ménage à trois.”

“Do you know the scene where Park Doosik takes over the Beomseoryong faction and holds a celebration party at the Choya salon in the early hours of the night? Ha, how can we make it eighteen? Let’s include Chorong with Mimi and Park Doosik for a ‘Ménage à Trois.’*”

*French slang for threesome (three-person se.x).

“Ménage… Ah, as expected! You’re a genius, Director!”

“Here, copy this and distribute it.”

Byungjin grinned, revealing his yellow teeth, and tapped Seongho’s chest with the script. Seongho bowed and took the script. When Byungjin gestured to Hyuna, she quickly ran over to him.