Chapter 97.1

Chapter 97.1

Miran froze, wondering if she had said something wrong, when suddenly the van erupted.

[Shit, she DOES look like Michelle!]

“Great to meet you, Michelle!”

[Wow, she’s gorgeous!]

“Hyung, where the hell did you find a Michelle like this?”

Flustered, Miran gave a shy laugh and glanced at Seunghyuk for help. He only shook his head with a grin and began introducing everyone in the van one by one. They were all Korean students studying film at NYU, a mix of international students and second-generation Koreans.

The cinematographer, Esther, had a husky voice, a sharp bob, and piercings on her lips, nose, and ears; she was a second-gen Korean American and taller even than Miran. The art director, Jennifer, with tanned skin and distinctive makeup, looked like a Korean American too, but she turned out to be an international student who had come to the States in high school.

The sound director, Hyunsung, was still bobbing his head to music from a CD player and headphones in the middle of the commotion. Seungho, who played Jin, was barely twenty, fluent in both English and Korean after immigrating in middle school.

Max, the editor, kept grumbling that he was stuck doing all the grunt work. And Hyunsu, the producer and the only one in his thirties, nagged Seunghyuk nonstop about cutting costs today.

With one hand on the wheel, Seunghyuk ignored them all, humming along to Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” playing through the speakers.

The atmosphere was free and easy, without the rigid hierarchy Miran had expected from a film set. It felt more like a group of friends heading out on a trip. Bit by bit, she relaxed, slipping naturally into the “Flushing Video team,” where English and Korean tumbled over each other without pause.

Flushing itself was fascinating. It felt nothing like Manhattan’s Koreatown. The main street was lined with Korean restaurants, beauty salons, clothing shops, and general stores, and almost everyone walking by was Asian. You could live here speaking only Korean and never feel the lack.

The filming location was a small video store tucked just off the main road. When Miran saw the sign, she blinked in surprise, and Seunghyuk explained.

“We were scouting for locations when we stumbled on a shop called Flushing Video. We were shocked too. Total luck.”

The owner had been so amused after reading Seunghyuk’s script that he’d given them permission to film without hesitation. They didn’t even need to make a sign.

No sooner had the conversation ended than Seunghyuk burst out laughing at the sight of Miran, plastered against the glass of the snack shop next to Flushing Video, staring at the menu and swallowing hard.

“Kang-gun. How about we eat there later?”

“Yes, Director!”

Miran answered brightly with a bashful smile. Seunghyuk smiled back, half-reaching to ruffle her hair before stopping himself. Instead, he pointed toward Flushing Video with his finger.

“Go find Jennifer. We need to get ready for the shoot.”

Miran nodded and stepped inside, where the crew was already setting up.

After changing clothes and finishing her makeup in the little storeroom-office at the back, she returned to find the preparations nearly complete. On the van ride over, everyone had been cracking silly jokes, each showing such strong personalities that she’d wondered how they ever got work done. But once the cameras were about to roll, their faces grew serious, and each carried out their roles flawlessly.

Miran had experience with short films and knew that on understaffed sets, doubling up on roles was the norm. When she rolled up her sleeves to help, however, the crew waved her off, insisting she sit down and relax. It was clear they wanted to make her, the newcomer, feel at ease.

So this is how an actor can be treated…

Her nose stung with sudden emotion.

Just then, Seungho—the actor playing Jin—shuffled over, asking if they could rehearse.

Miran’s role was simple: she walked into the video store, browsed the shelves for a bit, then approached Jin with a cheerful “Hi.” He was supposed to muster up the courage to admit they went to the same school, and she, smiling brightly, would reply, “Really? Nice to meet you. See you at school,” before exiting. There weren’t even lines to memorize.

Though he had asked to rehearse, Seungho barely managed to look her in the eye. At first, Miran thought it was part of his acting and let it slide, but when they reached the final exchange, she felt eye contact was necessary.

“Why don’t you look into my eyes here?” she suggested.

His cheeks flamed red as he glanced up at her, only to cover his face with a sheepish grin.