98 - Upki Girl

< What's This Hidden Camera For > With the cooperation of a general hospital in Geumcheon-gu, preparations for filming were underway. The newly built emergency ward next to the main building was vacant, as it was scheduled to open in a few days. A considerable number of cameras had been installed along the route from the parking lot to the emergency ward. However, due to budget constraints, most of the minor roles like nurses, doctors, and patients were filled by the production team's juniors and acquaintances, who were brought in under the guise of being treated to a meal. A man in his 30s, playing the role of me, who fell into a critical condition, exuded a somewhat noticeable red aura—a symbol of an actor. If he persevered and stayed in the acting scene, he might earn a living. I chatted with him briefly, learning that he worked part-time as an instructor at an acting school while attending auditions. He lacked self-confidence about his future and appeared somewhat skeptical about his chosen path. I wanted to offer words of encouragement such as, "You’ll definitely succeed as an actor," but his aura's clarity felt vaguely ambiguous. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to say something disheartening like, "Keep at it. You can at least earn a living." So, I merely wished him good luck. Still, he wasn’t in such a bad position. Most of the other minor actors either had a faint aura or none at all. Since entering the entertainment industry, I've often encountered similar people. Regrettably, the majority of aspiring entertainers fall into this category. They aren't particularly talented but are driven by a mere passion to become celebrities. After some time passes at this stage, like gamblers who can’t leave the table thinking about their losses, they can't quit because they feel it's a waste of their past efforts. Eventually, blinded by jealousy and envy, they comfort themselves by belittling their successful peers. Life’s bitter truth. Though there are late bloomers who find success, they are a small minority, and most should never have stepped into this industry in the first place. For those twenty minor actors dreaming of a rosy future and preparing, I wish I could approach each one and whisper in their ear. You have no talent for this. You won’t succeed as an actor, singer, or entertainer. So, it’s not too late; find another path. Without talent, the rehearsal proceeded about three times. I, along with writer Eom Seung-mi, was to observe the children's reactions from the isolation room. As the installation of cameras and monitor equipment in the isolation room concluded, Eom’s phone rang. Judging by the conversation, it was Yeom. He seemed to have just informed the children about my accident, and they all climbed into a car driven by Jangwoo to set off. Cameras and microphones were already installed in the car. “They just left the office in Nonhyeon-dong. Depending on the traffic, it’ll take about 30 minutes to an hour, so please check the route one more time!” The staff and talentless extras, who’d taken a short break with coffee from the vending machine after rehearsal, hurried back into action. Since I was also appearing on camera, I received a quick makeup and hairstyle check. Thirty minutes later, a discreet order came through Eom Seung-mi's walkie-talkie. ―The Upkick Girl vehicle has arrived at the parking lot. “Yes, confirmed.” It was starting. Eom and I put on earpieces and focused on the monitor screen. We captured the members swiftly entering the lobby from the parking lot on one of the split screens. Their urgent expressions were apparent even at a glance. “Oh no!” Eunbit stumbled and fell as she tangled her feet. Hong lifted her and set her upright, and they continued running toward the emergency room. The actors inside the emergency room had already started their performance. ―Whirrrrr Finally, the children entered the emergency room. The sound of the automatic door opening, the sniffing, and the murmuring reached the isolation room where I was sitting. Though the camera was too far to capture their detailed expressions, it was clear they were all visibly anxious and fatigued. ―What is the patient's name? Nurse 1 recited her lines just as during rehearsal, marking the official start of the hidden camera prank. Three or four voices simultaneously answered, “Kim Yun-ho.” The nurse raised her voice to create a sense of urgency. ―Doctor, the guardian for Kim Yun-ho has arrived! ―Yes, yes! Please come quickly this way! Now, the children would enter the CPR room to face the critically ill Kim Yun-ho, wrapped in bandages and fitted with a ventilator. He was currently in a coma due to shock. The doctor, aiming for the dramatic, instructed the kids to each say something heartfelt to the unconscious patient, claiming that there are cases where such moments provoke miraculous recoveries. Originally, I, disguised as a doctor, was supposed to enter when the members finished speaking. However, there was an on-site script revision by writer Eom. An additional scene was incorporated: as the last member finishes speaking, instead of a miracle, a beeping sound indicating cardiac arrest would occur. The doctor would then attempt CPR and call for the attending professor. That’s when I would enter. As the kids entered the hospital room, the acting doctor asked Yeom, ―Is this Kim Yun-ho’s guardian…? Before the doctor could even finish, the children began sobbing around critically ill Kim Yun-ho. Their cries were so intense one might think tears were pouring from their earpieces. ―What is this? ―Why is our manager like this? ―Huuuuh, kiiing, ―Who did this? ―Sobbing, hiccup. The kids were wailing so uncontrollably that even the actor playing the doctor seemed to falter. His line got tangled. ―Um, right now, patient Kim Yun-ho bled too much shock, and he fell into unconsciousness… Mister, get a hold of yourself. What does "bled shock" even mean? Would you develop an aura for acting like that? Realizing his line mistake, Yeom's lips curved into a smirk, trying desperately to suppress his laughter. Luckily, the children were too caught up in the scene to notice it. The doctor continued speaking. “If there are things you’ve always wanted to say but haven’t had the chance to, please say them now. Sometimes...” “Why? Is my brother seriously ill? Can’t he be treated? Is that why you're telling us to say our last words? No, please save my brother…” No, Eunbit. It's me who's supposed to leave the final words. Finally, unable to hold back, Yeom burst into soft laughter, turning away to cover his mouth with his hands, fortunately making it seem he was crying. “There are cases where people wake up after hearing the voices of their loved ones. So please, take turns holding the patient’s hand and saying a few words.” Hardly had the doctor finished speaking when Eunbit and Seowon both reached for critical Kim Yun-ho's hand at the same time, fiercely knocking shoulders and stumbling. Seowon merely sat down, but Eunbit’s comedic grace descended upon the scene. She took a dramatic sideways fall, rolling once. In the chaos, one of her shoes flew off and struck Hong in the face. Startled, Hong cradled her cheek, continuing to sob. “Darn it, those kids will drive me crazy.” “Ha ha ha ha, we asked them to film a heartfelt documentary, and they’re shooting a sitcom.” Ultimately, both writer Eom Seung-mi and I were in stitches as we watched the monitor. I made a mental note to leave Eunbit behind should I ever need to attend a funeral. Ignoring Eunbit’s fiasco, Seowon quickly grasped Kim Yun-ho's hand and began wailing into her earpiece. “Get up! Don’t die! I’m sorryyy!” It was a blessing that the ward was empty; had there been other patients during filming, it would have caused considerable disturbance. “What are you doing there? Get up quickly, you have to scold me if I go astray! Without you, I’ll go rogue!” “Please, just calm down, and speak gently. That’s the only way your guardian can hear and wake up.” Who cast this doctor? Who's the patient and who's the guardian here? Fixated on the actor's continual line errors, Yeom couldn't hold back his laughter any longer and stepped outside. “Manager, why are you lying there? We haven’t even hit number one on the charts yet. We need to line up the tracks, so get up quicklyyyy...” Yona's turn followed Seowon’s plea. Yona couldn't continue speaking and simply buried her face on the bed, sobbing. Finally, the atmosphere the production team was aiming for had been achieved. I, too, felt a sting at the tip of my nose and tears welled up, giving me the surreal sensation of watching over these events from beyond the grave. Next up was Ourhong. Approaching the bed, Hong delicately touched the cheek of mummy-wrapped Kim Yun-ho. After a few stifled sniffles, she murmured in a voice barely audible to the microphone. “I haven’t said something yet... I was going to say something if I reached 55 kilos. So please, wake up... I have to tell you that...” ―You can’t get down to 55 kilos in this lifetime, you fool. 62 is your limit, so don’t mention anything to the manager... Seowon’s remark caused Hong’s temper to flare. ―Seowon, the manager asked us to speak kindly. ―Speak for yourself, you pig. I’ll live recklessly until the manager gets up. Sniff, sniff... ―Hey, do you think you're the only one who's sad? Can't you see the other members? We're all heartbroken, you know. ―I don't see anyone! Just get lost! Eunbit, Aliya... I don't need any of you! I’ll stay here alone, so just go home... From now on, don’t touch him, Manager Kim Yun-ho belongs to me... Phew. There she goes filming a melodrama all on her own again. Seowon's unfiltered declaration of love left an awkward silence between writer Eom Seung-mi and me. Regret began to wash over me. It suddenly became clear that hidden cameras were too much for our kids. Overwhelmingly too much. “Seowon seems to really like the manager.” “Well, it’s more like she sees him as an uncle.” “Yes, exactly...” The atmosphere was tense. Though I nodded vaguely, it was evident that writer Eom had already become conscious of the peculiar relationship between Seowon and me. It wasn’t just Seowon. Anyone with normal reasoning and empathy would have sensed long ago that the kids and I shared something beyond the typical singer-manager relationship. Finally, I spoke candidly. “...Writer, do you think this hidden camera prank is okay? I’m not sure how this is going to help the fandom. If anything, it feels like it could backfire…” “We’ll edit it beautifully, don’t worry. Trust in the power of editing.” “Yes, please.” Meanwhile, Aliya had become the focal point of the voices in my earpiece. “Manager, Aliya will talk nicely and be lovely to people now. So don’t be sick and get up quickly. Should I take you to my hospital and get you fixed? Can you answer me, hmm?” Eom pulled out her notepad and pen, intrigued. “Is Aliya’s father a doctor?” “Oh... no, she’s just talking about her usual hospital.” “Ah. I heard a rumor that Aliya’s the daughter of a hotel owner.” ...Not a daughter, but the actual owner. After the incident where we pressured the PD with ads, we tried hard to keep Aliya being the hidden child of the Brunei King and a hotel owner under wraps from the Dae-se-ga-yo show staff. Revealing her as a silver spoon heir could negatively affect public perception. Especially if the connection to the Brunei royal family came to light, we planned to deny it completely; concealing the hotel ownership was key to that strategy. “Oh no, it’s just that one of her relatives works in a managerial position, and that must have been exaggerated.” “Oh, a relative…” She seemed to buy it. Until these facts are confirmed, deny everything. "Eunbit, we’ve all said our piece, now it’s your turn." Eunbit had been sitting on the floor crying since her earlier tumble. “Stop crying.” At Yona’s prompting, Eunbit wiped her tears with her sleeve and stood up. Gently grasping the very tip of the actor Kim Yun-ho’s exposed fingers, she began in a nasal voice. “What’s the point of all this if you’re not here? You need to wake up soon to scold Seowon unnie and hear Hong unnie’s secret confession. You need to see us hit number one on music shows and have our tracks lined up…” “Unnie, tell him about how Aliya got nicer, too. I’ve been nice since yesterday, right?” “Yes, Ri-ya has become much kinder. So please, wake up… okay? Big brother, you’ve got to get married, too. Only then Sung-sung Girl and Kim Kyudon will be happy… hiiing…” Eunbit’s expression shifted as she noticed something strange. She stopped speaking mid-sentence and cleaned her nose noisily before inspecting the fingers peeking out from the bandages. She also checked the toes sticking out of the cast. Aside from the eyes, fingers and toes were the only parts not covered by bandages. After examining the narrowed eye slits within a 5 cm opening, she came to a conclusion. “This isn’t my brother.” “Kim Yun-ho Manager, you should go out there now!” “G-Go out now?” “Yes.” “Ah… I feel like I’m walking to my death here.” “You were supposed to go out at this timing anyway. Do it before the mood is completely lost.” Exiting was daunting. I hadn't imagined the kids would get this immersed. I felt like I might get dragged and slapped around. A tense silence engulfed the kids as they scrambled to check the hands and feet despite the doctor's protests. Finally, Seowon shouted with conviction. “Right, manager’s nails aren’t this stubby! It’s someone else!” “Then where’s our manager?” “Sung-peng-peng! Where is he? Sung-peng-peng!” “Nurse, please calm the members. You’re disturbing other patients.” “Please, there are other patients here, keep it down.” “Hong unnie, doesn’t that nurse look familiar to you?” “I’ve been thinking the same thing.” “Ah, I remember. It’s the reenactment actor from Surprise! I’m sure!” We’re doomed. Everything’s unraveling like pulling out sweet potato vines. It did not take long for Yona to recognize the reenactment actor’s face. Urgently, writer Eom radioed the staff. “Manager Kim Yun-ho is coming out now. Stick with the cameras closely. Manager, go now, quickly! If you miss this timing, it will be difficult to edit. Please act as if you weren’t caught.” “Yes…” Damn... This feels less like biting the bullet and more like swallowing poison. Hurriedly stepping out of the isolation room, I was met by Yeom, who was waiting outside. “Yeom, the hidden camera is a bust.” “I’m done with this, hehe.” “Thanks…” At the door to the resuscitation room, I took a deep breath and carefully pressed the automatic door button. ―Whirr Oh! Eunbit, who was just about to come outside, stood right in front of the door. She was startled to see my face. “Oh my gosh, you scared me! Why are you coming out from there?” Around me, the kids, who had been peering like zombies, turned their heads in unison. They truly resembled famished zombies. All I could do was force a smile and put my mental defenses up. “Hey there! Surprised, right? It was all a hidden camera prank! Hahaha!” “Damn it!” With a murderous expression, Eunbit lunged at me, and I reflexively raised my guard and closed my eyes. I could feel the other kids clinging to me from my waist, shoulders, and neck down. “You idiot! We were so scared thinking something had really happened to you! Why did you keep it from us too?” “Aaahh…” “I take back what I said earlier. I no longer have anything to say to the manager. I won’t lose any weight. I’ll join Seowon in going astray. I’ll start binge-eating and gain a lot of weight starting today.” “It’s alright, Sung-peng-peng. As long as you’re back, everything’s good. Even if it doesn't make sense to the others, Aliya understands everything. Aliya's kind, you know.” “...If you do this again, I’ll kill you for real. And then I’ll follow suit… no, I’m sorry! I won’t do that—I've learned my lesson. I promise to speak only kind and gentle words. I’ve even made a pact with the others, so don’t run away…” It was supposed to be touching, but it weirdly gave me chills. It seemed like the objectives of the hidden camera—to improve teamwork and mend Seowon & Ri-ya’s bad habits—had been somewhat successful, yet at the cost of my own life feeling pretty ruined. I missed Jehee. Thinking of Jehee brought tears to my eyes. Why did this poignant feeling of reflecting upon an unattainable first love surround me? “Damn… I'm getting teary…” The staff, it seemed, mistook my tears for ones of joy due to reuniting with the members. Everyone, men and women alike, began crying together. Alright, let's give them a dance befitting of such chaos. “Is Sung-peng-peng crying?” “Huh? Is oppa crying?” “Yeah. Honestly, I really, really missed you all too. Huuuh…” “Huuuuh…” "See? If you were going to react like this, why did you even leave, silly." "I love you, Manager, I really do." < What Was This Hidden Camera For > End