Judgment Reserved 60

# Chapter 60

What followed the question was not an answer but silence. The quiet froze the air with a chill.

Seowoo didn’t respond at all, nor did his expression change. Nevertheless, sensing something off in the flow of the atmosphere, Eungyu immediately spoke up.

“On my way here, I heard the director and the production team saying that in your current state… running might strain your ankle. Our next shoot is also an action scene, and if you seriously twist it while running, it could be a real disaster.”

Though it sounded like an excuse, every word was true. Seowoo’s concern was precisely that a major ankle problem might delay the next shoot.

This wasn’t like theater or a musical where double-casting was possible. The role Seowoo played could only be handled by Seowoo. At this point, Eungyu couldn’t be trying to snatch the lead role—that was completely impossible.

Chewing on the end of his straw, Seowoo set his coffee down on the makeshift table.

So what Eungyu was trying to say was…

“…You want to modify this scene itself? By removing my role?”

In a previously revised script, Seowoo wasn’t in this scene. It had been changed to a chase scene featuring only the accomplice and the criminal.

In other words, this scene was inserted merely to create tension, and whether Seowoo confronted the criminal or the accomplice did wouldn’t significantly affect the story progression.

Of course, considering the connection with the next scene, several other scenes would need adjustment. Inevitably, Seowoo’s screen time would decrease, and Eungyu’s would increase. Seowoo had seen the revised script too.

“No, I’m not suggesting changing everything… You know the revised script we had? If you look at the modified version of this scene, the location is the same, the movement pattern is similar, only the runner is different. If we proceed that way, there wouldn’t be much to modify, so I thought it might save time and effort.”

Sure enough, he brought up the revised script first. Though Eungyu tried to maintain politeness by denying he was “removing Seowoo’s role,” his lengthy explanation condensed to a single line meant the same thing.

Without moving an eyebrow, Seowoo listened to Eungyu’s explanation to the end. No, a more accurate description would be that he observed Eungyu.

There was no excessive expression or behavior, and he maintained proper etiquette. However, he couldn’t hide the obsession and enthusiasm in his eyes as he tried to grasp the opportunity before him.

Desperation isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it’s not typical for someone who caused an accident to be calculating like this.

Perhaps it wasn’t an accidental collision? A strange suspicion sprouted in the center of Seowoo’s mind.

‘…No. There’s no evidence yet, and it’s too early to be certain he deliberately pushed me, especially considering he risked hurting himself in the fall.’

Seowoo calmed his thoughts while massaging his temples in circular motions. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

Deliberately avoiding eye contact with Eungyu, Seowoo responded in the most neutral tone possible.

“Action scenes are hard to handle without practice. Even if we tried it now, it would be difficult to express it well enough to capture on camera.”

As if he had anticipated this objection, Eungyu quickly and decisively countered.

“I practiced when I received the revised script.”

“…”

This time, controlling his expression was difficult. Seowoo’s eyebrows creased.

“This scene?”

After the script revision, not long after, Seowoo transferred to T&C, and the script was restored to its original form. So the modified script was discarded very quickly without serving its purpose.

There couldn’t have been time to practice the changed scene. Even if he had practiced, the revised script had more than just one or two scenes featuring Eungyu. It made no sense that he would specifically pick the chase scene to practice first.

That would mean that even after the script returned to its original form, he continued to practice with the revised version…

“I learned it bit by bit, just in case. I won’t cause any trouble for sunbae-nim.”

His tone was cautious yet resolute. Seowoo wasn’t sure what expression to make.

It was unclear whether Eungyu was simply trying his hardest to seize the opportunity before him, or if he had created the opportunity by tripping Seowoo.

Either way, Seowoo wasn’t someone who easily gave up his position. He had worked tenaciously and gritted his teeth to secure his place until he was called the best actor.

“This isn’t something that can be decided so easily. It’s not just up to my permission.”

“Ah, I already asked the director.”

Seemingly interpreting Seowoo’s words as indirect permission, Eungyu quickly responded. Seowoo’s lips stiffened.

“The director said he needed to speak with you first, so I thought I’d ask you directly…”

So even Director Kang hadn’t outright refused. Well, even though Jung Eungyu was a rookie, he belonged to T&C. Though he had a minor supporting role, he was promising enough for Seo Dohyun to notice and support him. It was natural for Director Kang to be concerned.

From Director Kang’s perspective, both Seowoo and Eungyu were just actors backed by Seo Dohyun.

Though Seowoo overwhelmingly led in recognition, that wasn’t reason enough for Director Kang to protect Seowoo’s position. The person he was concerned about was Seo Dohyun.

Looking down at his ankle, Seowoo saw it was covered with patches, looking unsightly.

‘…Am I being stubborn?’

Am I being selfish by desiring something when there’s an easier path that benefits everyone? If I’m acting selfishly?

He wanted to ask someone, but there was no one to ask. His lips, stuck together as if glued, wouldn’t part. However, before he could respond, a large hand suddenly blocked Seowoo’s view.

“Don’t answer.”

Raising his head toward the voice, Seowoo’s eyes met Manager Gu’s, who had been silently standing by without joining the conversation.

“…Pardon? What are you saying all of a sudden?”

“I’m intervening as a manager. You don’t need to answer now, and you shouldn’t.”

“Manager-nim, I…”

Eungyu abruptly cut into the conversation. Manager Gu merely glanced at him.

“Right now, I’m Han Seowoo-ssi’s manager. I’m not here in the capacity of a manager at the company.”

It was a straightforward reply without any aggression, as if simply stating facts. This attitude seemed to hurt Eungyu’s feelings, as a hint of disappointment clearly crossed his face.

“Then as sunbae-nim’s manager, please listen to me.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“My suggestion—no, my request—has nothing negative about it. Even if your ankle is just sprained right now, running repeatedly will strain it, and ignoring the pain to continue can’t be good for your body. Especially when there’s a perfectly viable alternative as I suggested.”

It was a rather shrewd explanation. Though Seowoo felt somewhat upset, he rationally had to accept that this method was the only alternative that would allow filming to continue without causing harm to everyone.

Manager Gu remained quiet until Eungyu finished, then slowly asked:

“So what’s your point?”

“…I don’t understand why you told him not to answer.”

His voice was wrinkled with undisguised grievance. Manager Gu didn’t offer any explanation and kept his lips sealed. Eungyu continued, as if defending himself.

“I think the CEO would agree that this is the better option too.”

“You seem very interested in what’s in my head.”

An amused voice, with a sly tone. Seowoo turned his head abruptly, and Eungyu also spun around in surprise.

Dohyun had appeared, standing very close behind Eungyu. His smiling face was exaggeratedly bright.

“Ah, hello, CEO!”

“Can’t say hello, I’m the CEO.”

Eungyu bowed deeply, offering a respectful greeting. As Dohyun waved his hand dismissively, Eungyu hesitantly stepped back a few paces.

Seowoo thought about offering a customary greeting to follow Eungyu’s lead, but decided against it—what was the point of such formalities now?—and kept his mouth shut.

Dohyun bent down to bring his eyes level with Seowoo’s. His outstretched hand carefully grasped Seowoo’s chin.

“Is this makeup?”

“…Just the wound on my cheek.”

“I was shocked seeing you from a distance. Your face was so red, I thought you were covered in blood. It would be troublesome if that handsome face got seriously scratched.”

Though his words were joking, his touch was too gentle to be a joke. His hands were large enough to seem rough, yet his movements were delicate. It didn’t even occur to Seowoo to push him away.

Only after confirming that the wound on his cheek was just a simple abrasion, contrary to its appearance, and that it had been treated, did Dohyun’s hand withdraw.

“How’s your ankle? I’ve heard a bit about it.”

“It’s a bit twisted and swollen, but it’s not serious…”

Seowoo couldn’t finish his sentence. Dohyun suddenly knelt down, cutting him off.

Even Manager Gu seemed not to have expected this action, as his eyebrows wrinkled. Not caring whether his clothes got dirty, Dohyun reached out and grasped Seowoo’s ankle. A scream involuntarily escaped.

“What, what are you doing now! Kneeling on the dirt, don’t you see your pants getting ruined?”

“Your ankle condition is really…”

When he applied pressure with his thumb, Seowoo’s ankle and calf tensed with the pain shooting up. A groan escaped through his teeth.

“Urgh…”

“It’s properly sprained. There’s no way you can run like this.”

Dohyun clicked his tongue, stood up, and halfheartedly dusted off his dirt-covered pants. Seowoo looked at Dohyun with wavering eyes.

“Then how… is today’s filming… canceled?”

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Dohyun, as if waiting for a verdict.

But as if he couldn’t understand such a tense atmosphere, Dohyun looked down at Seowoo with round eyes.

“You want to continue filming in this state? Are you not satisfied with just patches and want to try a cast too?”

“Even saying the same thing, you really know how to irritate me. Yes, I get it. I understand.”

It felt like the air was hissing out of him. Yes, Dohyun was right. Running around in this condition was absurd.