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Chapter 12
‘From now on is what matters.’
Producer Gu Sumin didn’t take her eyes off the actors.
The confrontation between perpetrator and victim, rich and poor, adult and child — a storm of emotions.
In this scene, the absolute victim Minseo defeats the absolute oppressor Ha Minjun.
For Minjun’s collapse under guilt to be convincing, not only Jo Yongjin’s performance but also Lee Sua’s acting had to support it.
It was a daring scene — one that writer Jo Gayoung had ambitiously planned and Gu Sumin had courageously decided to attempt after seeing Sua’s potential during the camera test.
Half-excited, half-anxious, Gu Sumin shouted:
“Stand by—action!”
Minseo’s face went pale the moment she saw Ha Minjun.
Her frightened eyes darted around the hospital room before fixing on him, who was instinctively backing away.
Quick to assess the situation, the clever child closed the hospital door first.
“Why did you come here?”
Her trembling voice carried a tangle of emotions — fear toward him, anxiety someone might overhear, guilt toward her mother, sadness, resentment…
And anger.
“I was keeping quiet just fine. So why did you come?”
“I, I just…”
“Was money not enough? You came to shut me up for real this time?”
Minseo’s boiling emotions splattered toward Ha Minjun like hot oil.
Already volatile, Minjun flared instantly.
“Why would I have to do that?! What did I do wrong?!”
“Ha Minjun! You—”
“Let go of me! She’s the one who jumped out! She wanted to die! You saw it too!”
That night, Ha Minjun had been drinking and driving recklessly, yes — but he had been speeding down an empty road.
If only that woman hadn’t suddenly thrown herself out like that, none of this would’ve happened.
Smack!
“Ugh!”
“In front of the victim… in front of her child — there are things you can say and things you can’t! Why the hell don’t you know that?!”
Go Soohyuk punched Ha Minjun square in the face.
Minjun clutched his face, ready to lunge at Soohyuk — then froze.
“Mom didn’t… she didn’t want to die.”
Minseo’s lips trembled as she hugged her arms tight.
“She just wanted to run away from me… to leave me behind…”
That day, Minseo had realized it the moment her mother made her wear a new dress she’d never seen before —
her mother was going to abandon her.
But she didn’t want to believe it, so she pretended not to notice and spent the day trying to enjoy their time together.
Then, when her mother truly tried to leave, she chased after her.
Her mother ran, covering her face in despair —
And that’s when the accident happened.
Ha Minjun collapsed, as though struck in the head.
His whole body began to shake uncontrollably.
For a moment, he saw his own reflection overlaid on the child’s face.
Hadn’t he, too, done everything he could not to be abandoned by his parents?
His stomach churned.
“Hey… kid. I was wrong, okay? I was wrong…”
He crawled over to Minseo, kneeling before her in desperation.
“P-please forgive me. Just once. Let me live. I’ll… I’ll find you better parents, okay? Just forgive me and—”
It was a pitiful sight.
Minseo froze in fear, while Go Soohyuk grimaced in disgust.
Unable to bear it any longer, Soohyuk reached out to pull Minjun away—
Beep-beep-beep-beep!
The monitor blared. Vital signs were spiking wildly.
Soohyuk rushed to the patient’s bedside.
“The vitals just crashed—!”
He hit the nurse call button and began emergency procedures.
Minseo shook off Minjun and ran toward her mother.
“Mom! Mom!”
As she saw Soohyuk’s grim face, her mother’s slowing breath, and heard the sound of people running from down the hall—
Minseo finally let out the words she’d buried deep inside, mixed with sobs.
“Mom, don’t leave me!”
Ha Minjun fled from the hospital room.
He couldn’t stand it anymore.
Even his usually indifferent parents wouldn’t be able to cover up a hit-and-run death.
His father would rather sacrifice his own son than risk the company’s stock price.
I don’t want to be abandoned. I don’t want to be thrown away!
But the farther he ran from the hospital, the closer he felt to the edge of a cliff.
The child’s voice chased him, echoing endlessly in his head—
I didn’t want to be abandoned either… just like you.
“Cut!”
“Hah… hah!”
Even though the hallway-running scene wasn’t that long, Jo Yongjin was panting heavily.
Cold sweat drenched his forehead; his trembling hands were icy cold as he wiped it away.
After taking a sip of water from his manager, he finally felt himself come back — from Ha Minjun to Jo Yongjin.
Have I ever been this immersed in a role before?
Though Minjun had been his biggest role yet, he’d played characters with higher acting difficulty before.
In fact, he had initially thought Minjun was an easy one — a spoiled, domineering rich kid desperate to please his parents while bullying the weak.
But through this episode, Minjun had become something deeper — a boy, immature and terrified of being abandoned, breaking down in guilt before a child even more helpless than himself.
Portraying that transformation while keeping it natural yet powerful made the difficulty spike suddenly.
It was a pivotal episode for the whole drama, so Jo Yongjin had practiced relentlessly.
And yet — what came out was even better than what he’d prepared.
Thanks to that kid.
The same child actor who’d just pulled off such an emotionally draining scene — sitting calmly now, smiling gently as her mother fussed over her — Lee Sua.
The emotion she carried had swept him along, and through her, he’d discovered depths to Ha Minjun he’d never known existed.
Outside the hospital set, Do Jehyeon flashed him a knowing grin — “Told you so.”
Jo Yongjin, almost dazed, approached Sua.
“Actor Sua, do you… have Insta? Can we follow each other?”
It was his first-ever request for a mutual follow.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have any social media accounts — not even on InBreeze — so I couldn’t accept Jo Yongjin’s request.
He looked genuinely disappointed, which made Do Jehyeon laugh heartily.
“This kid’s never been the one to ask first. Most people in the industry treat mutual follows like a sign of friendship.”
Thanks to his explanation, my mom, who had been wary and tense, finally relaxed a little.
I told Yongjin that if I ever made an account, I’d follow him right away — and ended the conversation.
That scene wrapped up all the hospital filming.
Now only an outdoor shoot and a voice-over session were left for my part.
“Great job, Sua!”
Producer Gu Sumin beamed as the staff came over to thank and praise me.
I greeted everyone back politely, leaving a generally good impression.
The other actors still had scenes left, so I couldn’t join the wrap party.
Instead, I left with Ki Seonghee, who’d been waiting for me.
Apparently, Seonghee had heard I couldn’t make it to the party and offered to buy us dinner instead.
There was clearly some ulterior motive, but it had been a while since Mom and I went out to eat together, so I agreed.
“Is there anything you can’t eat, Sua? What about you, Gahee?”
“I take after Mom. I eat everything.”
“Neither of us have allergies. Sua’s a bit of a picky eater, but… she won’t waste food.”
Mom, visibly nervous, hinted that I didn’t eat much so we shouldn’t go anywhere expensive.
Seonghee just smiled.
We soon arrived at a restaurant that looked ordinary enough.
Mom visibly relaxed — not realizing every room here was a private room, and the place was actually quite high-end.
“They didn’t give us a menu?”
“They’ll make anything you want here. Order whatever you like, Gahee.”
Mom’s eyes twitched anxiously. Knowing she’d never order freely in that state, I jumped in.
“Bacon cream gnocchi and hot pot bulgogi, please! And two zero colas!”
“Sua, do you even know what gnocchi is?”
“I saw it on TV once. I wanna try it.”
Gnocchi happened to be one of Mom’s favorite dishes — though I hadn’t known that until much later.
Hopefully, this place made it well.
Seonghee ordered mountain vegetable bibimbap, and the food came quickly.
While Mom cooled some bulgogi for me, I scooped up a spoonful of gnocchi and held it out to her.
“It’s hot — blow on it first, okay?”
Embarrassed but not displeased, Mom took the bite under Seonghee’s amused gaze.
Her eyes rounded as soon as she tasted it. She liked it.
It had been so long since I’d seen her enjoy her food like that.
When the meal ended, Seonghee ordered yakgwa (honey cookies) for dessert — and finally got to the point.
“I’ve been thinking about your performance that day. You built the character Minseo in three possible directions, but ultimately left the decision to the producer and writer.
As an actor, having a clear vision is important — though it can also cause friction.
Don’t you think you compromised too much? Why did you do that?”
As expected.
That was why she’d treated us to such an expensive meal.
But since Mom and I had a lovely time, I decided to answer her sincerely.
