Chapter Text
“Cut!”
The director’s hand claps the final take off. Loud sighs echo across the set as the crew bring their shoulders down from carrying the camera and the deadcat. Dodo, too, joins the relief as she can relax her posture. It’s noon and the sun is high above them, pressuring her and her co-actor to speed and tumble through their lines.
She walks to the table to grab a drink. Iced americano seems like a bad choice for this heat - she’s sure that she will be more dehydrated as she goes. But there’s no choice, and when you’re working on a tight budget and lack of sleep, this is your only choice.
“Dodo, can you come here for a sec?” She lets out a grunt. The director is sure to rattle her off again, telling her that she could’ve saved them from the scorching hot sun if only she didn’t fumble. This is one the first - and hopefully of the many - bigger projects that she wants to work on, but she fears she’s not putting a good impression.
She restrains herself from stomping to the director, and with a crumpled tissue, wipes her sweat off without ruining the thick makeup.
“I’m sorry, Kihyun. The heat is unbearable today.”
The director isn’t impressed with her excuse, but he knows that she’s not in the wrong either. He shows her the reel, letting her judge on her own. Dodo refuses to look down, but she has no choice if she wants this movie to be done and a career to last. One look at the screen and she sees it - she’s supposed to look calm and assured, immovable by the insects buzzing around, but her face gave away in some shots. Nose scrunched, excessive blinks. Even she cringes at how bad she is.
“Look, Dodo. I know it’s tough but we really don’t have much time and today’s the only day we can have this place. Can’t you just hold it on a little longer?” He begs, arms crossed.
“Can’t you just cut that out? Pan it to him instead?” She argues.
Kihyun glares at her. “Dodo, we’re here because my vision brings you here. Now get yourself ready and we’ll get back to this scene again in 5.”
Dodo holds her breath in, and knows better than to argue further. She turns around and goes back to her seat. If only someone can bring her some regular drink, something that’s not bound to make her eyes bounce out, that’d be great.
As she huffs her frustration out, a loud clang of fallen equipment is heard from the other side of the field. The whole crew turns towards the culprit.
“Hey!!! If you mess that up, you’ll pay!!!”
Dodo winces. It’s not just the noise of the equipment, but she’s had enough of angry high pitched voices. She takes a slow slip of her iced americano, trying to bring her own focus to herself. Her resting time is going to be up soon, anyway. She has no time to consider others.
She puts her drink down and stands up to take several deep breaths. The sun is
This is gonna be over soon. We can escape this fucking heat and their annoying voices. Okay? You’re a cold, badass, stoic bitch who doesn’t care about these dragonflies buzzing around your thighs right now.
She walks to her spot and closes her eyes. As she hears Kihyun’s voice from a distant, she opens her eyes, and imagines that instead of her co-actor in front of her, she is staring at nothing but a blank canvas.
***
It’s not that Dodo is a terrible actress, no.
Her talent, emergence, and especially her looks, was well sought out by every director in town. After she completed her first and only 90-minute theatre run, she received so many emails asking for her time. Kihyun’s script happens to be the best, and she knows that Kihyun, too, is on the rise. Both budding creatives can help each other, right?
Wrong.
Egos clash, and Dodo gets overwhelmed. Filmmakers are a different breed than theatre kids. The latter are more open, more welcoming of mistakes and who she is. Whereas filmmakers? You’re just forced into their own box. As the filming goes on, Dodo feels like Kihyun is not giving her character the justice she deserves, but that’s the problem with male directors everywhere. And Dodo knows that, even if her character actually gets slighted, if she delivers her lines well, she will get more projects.
She wishes she can share this with someone, but her peers are all big fans of Kihyun. Dodo should not see any wrong in him. Plus, she chose his script above others. And since the script is highly confidential, her friends have no power to change it as much as she complains to them. She just has to trudge on.
Sometimes she wonders if she’s being too hard on the script or on Kihyun, who is also chasing against time and money. But the crew that’s surrounding her are not helping, either. They often throw snide remarks at her, and she has to remind them that they are married. Dodo has absolutely no interest in any of them, as she often makes the clear demarcation between the professional and the personal.
But of course, there is another thing that is bugging her. That is making her falter and wonder if everything is actually worth it. It’s not so much about Kihyun, the script, or the acting. But it’s when the personal begins to bleed into this. And obviously, her friends cannot really give her the support that she needs no matter how hard they try.
So Dodo only has herself to go through this.
Dodo can only afford to continue this to prove her wrong. At least, this is one of the things that she can work for, because she knows that the other one - that’s even more important for herself, that she knows she would be delighted to carry it throughout her whole life - will not be accepted.
***
After a whole week of strenuous filming, Act 3 is finally completed. The harsh weather makes everything worse, and Dodo feels horrible that her inability to cope with the heat brings the whole production to a slow progress. But at least the work is done. For now.
The crew decides to have a huge dinner together before they leave Daegu. Kihyun, too, seems more relaxed, as he sports bright smiles everywhere and slaps everyone’s back. It’s just like him when they first started. Dodo shivers at how easily he can change.
While everyone’s inside the restaurant trying to secure their seats, Dodo excuses herself to step outside. It’s the tail end of spring, and the weather is already ready to put on its dry and hot spell. Regardless, Dodo whips out a cigarette to celebrate herself for making it through.
With one bud in her mouth, she ruffles through her pocket to look for her lighter. Shit, did I drop it? She searches for it in the other pocket, hoping that it will miraculously appear if she digs deeper. But there’s none. Dodo has no time to run to get a new one, and she does not want to go in to meet their raucous selves yet.
“Need a light?”
A small flame dances in front of her. Dodo, in a frenzy, bends down to take it.
“Thanks. I lost mine.”
The bearer giggles. “No problem. Glad that I haven’t lost mine.”
Although the voice is dark and deep, Dodo notes how feminine it is. She turns around to take a good look at the person next to her. To her surprise, the person does not have any cigarette with her, and puts the lighter back into her purple sweater’s pocket. They put down their hoodie and reaches out to tie the jet black hair that was covering their face, into a short ponytail.
It takes a while for Dodo to realise that this person is also part of the crew. She’s relatively quiet, and invisible, almost. Always behind the sound deck. Always monitoring the noise, but occasionally clumsy. Dodo feels ashamed that she does not remember her name, and even more so as she is the only one smoking between the two. She wonders if she should invite her colleague to join.
“It’s okay, Dodo-nim. I just want to have my time away, too.” She rejects softly, giving a smirk to the noise inside the restaurant. The formality takes Dodo by surprise, but she understands where they are currently at.
“Hey, I’m so sorry but I don’t think I catched your name.”
“Sangah.” She replies.
“Sangah.” Dodo lets it linger in her mouth. “Dodo. Nice to meet you, I guess. Although I should’ve known earlier.” She takes a slight puff, and exhales it to another side away from Sangah. Thankfully the wind follows the course. “Also, I don’t smoke all the time. Just when I needed it.”
Sangah chuckles, her hands still in her pocket. “It’s okay, I understand. You still sound great anyway. I would’ve joined you a few months ago.”
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Dodo apologises, and tries to put her cigarette away from Sangah.
“No, it’s fine. You needed a light, and I just want to be here.” Sangah smiles. Dodo takes a sharp inhale. It was obviously nothing intentional, but the smile somehow triggers a little beat in her heart.
“So…” Dodo tries to strike up a conversation, “how long have you been working for Kihyun? I’m sorry for not knowing your name earlier, I got so bogged down with the script.”
“Three times.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve said sorry three times.” Sangah points out, her three fingers raised from her sweater. “Over things that you shouldn’t apologise for.”
Dodo almost opens her mouth, but realises she would commit her fourth.
“This is my second time working with Kihyun, but first time on a project as big as this.” Sangah explains. “We were classmates back in film school. We have a good rapport, but something about Daegu is turning us all horrible. Thank fuck we’re done with this place.”
“Oh so it’s not just me, thank goodness!” Dodo exclaims. She beams at this little glimpse of camaraderie. “I thought I was losing it, especially with the heat and that goddamn factory.”
Sangah laughs, and Dodo feels a flutter of tingles across her own skin.
“No, no. Even Kihyun was affected - he was like, “ Oh my god! Why did I choose this place? Why must my ideas hurt me???”” Sangah waves her arms to mimic Kihyun but in a slightly higher voice. Dodo laughs at the impersonation. “Hence why he chose this restaurant for dinner. Honestly this is the place that he’s looking forward to this whole trip.”
“Seems like you and Kihyun are close with each other.” Dodo notes.
“Mmm just want to make this work, anyway. Although I wish he would change the script a little.”
Dodo raises her eyebrow and taps her cigarette. “Oh? How so?”
Sangah shrugs and pulls her sleeves up. The slight of a wilting flower trailing down her arm somehow warms Dodo’s cheeks. She stares at it longer than she should have.
“Well, your character, Jiyeon, deserves way better.” Sangah rants. “Kihyun’s a great guy, a visionary, but he is stuck in his manic pixie dream girl phase. You know?” Sangah looks up to Dodo for validation, her eyes now more round.
Dodo nods, understanding that phrase really well - it’s not really well adapted among the Korean filmmakers circles, but she’s done her dues researching the English-speaking indie scene to know what it means.
“It’s 2023! We’ve all heard the criticism and how there’s more ways to write about women now. Jiyeon has such a promising start with her quirkiness, but if Kihyun lets her go to Japan and have that photography trip instead of having her standing and staring into that useless Leeteuk’s face forever in the middle of a freaking field, he would’ve had a shot to go to Cannes with this.”
Dodo etches a long smile on her own. This is the exact same complaint that she had, that she shared with her own friends, the gaggle of Kihyun fangirls, who don’t seem to get it.
“And Leeteuk - I already told Kihyun that he should add another scene, another act where Leeteuk actually listens to Jiyeon. Actually learning and restoring what Jiyeon lost. Sure, Leeteuk lost his dad over Alzheimer’s, but that doesn’t mean he has the right to take Jiyeon’s chance to have her own life. Kihyun said he will work on the script. But what am I seeing on the set? It’s still the same!”
Dodo laughs. Everything echoes her own thoughts. “You’re right, and I’m glad you told Kihyun about this. It’s why I struggled with the scene. Wow, I wish I talked to you earlier because this is what I’ve been complaining about.”
Sangah looks at Dodo now, fully looking at her, directly to her face. Dodo is surprised by how deep Sangah’s gaze is, how it locks her in. But Sangah supplements it with a gentle smile that Dodo feels like she’s being seen.
“You’re really a great actress, Dodo-nim. I can see how you struggled. You know what’s better for your character. And I’m glad that I get to work with you and see it.”
Dodo drops and cleans off the flame as they hear their colleagues calling them inside. As she walks behind Sangah, she notes the strong whiff of musky, rose perfume, lightly tinted with whiskey slowly enveloping her.
***
As much as she’s happy to leave Daegu, Dodo isn’t really that keen on returning home.
She takes out her phone and parses through the muted conversation. She already read the last message, but two hours since then, she chooses not to reply. But now that they’re heading back, she wonders if she will regret not giving an answer by text. How is she going to muster the courage to give a verbal answer soon?
Dodo tries to wheel her worries away by sleeping throughout the whole ride, but the anxiety stays. She wants to reach out for another comfort, but she knows that her only respite, her chosen safe home at the time, is no longer hers.
She corrects herself. Look, she and Dior are still friends. Their breakup was mutual - even if her mother was not in the way, things will never work out. In fact, Mrs Nana is perfectly fine and impressed with Dior, but something held her back. Then Dior refused to compromise. Or was it both of them who refused to do so?
Whatever. It’s all bound to fall apart anyway.
Dior would, in some way, understand Dodo’s exact predicament now. But Dodo knows that Dior is no longer responsible for her.
Dodo takes a deep breath as she lugs her luggage up on the stairs.
It’s horrible that her own home no longer feels like a home. It stretches apart the more she thinks she grows into herself. That her mother, bless her, tries to learn about this version of her, but fails everytime. Dodo returns to her childhood room, the room that cannot keep up with her own expansion and resorts to keeping the pieces of young, naive, little Dodo instead.
“Dinner’s ready!”
Dodo unclips her hair and lets her locks fall down her shoulders. She looks into the mirror and wonders if she should take her makeup completely off, or retouch it. She does neither, and walks down to meet her mother.
There’s nothing wrong with Mrs Nana. She greets Dodo warmly, a hug and a kiss on her cheek, and immediately sets the food down. She asks Dodo how the shoot was, and shares her frustration over the heat. Mrs Nana has prepared Dodo’s favourite, shrimp carbonara, and is ready to have her daughter back.
After Dodo shares everything that had happened, including the ruckus they made at dinner, the table falls into silence. Both of them let their cutleries talk for a while, clicks, clacks, while they both figure out how to enter the next topic.
“So, Jooheon’s family wants to meet us this Saturday. Have you heard about the new Turkish restaurant? It’s a brave choice, but they want to share the experience with us.” Mrs Nana says. Her voice becomes more muted, and she keeps her eyes on her own plate.
Dodo doesn’t say anything. She tries not to make her knife cut too deep into the plate, but a slight squeak emits.
“I think we can just go there for the food, honey. I heard it’s good. That last dinner served us cold meat, so it put me off.” Mrs Nana adds a slight chuckle to her excuse.
Dodo sighs again. Of course, she cannot really say no because she said yes to this. Jooheon is a nice guy, and from what little conversation they had at the table, it was good. But… that’s it. She tried, and she cannot go any further. Dodo isn’t sure how to convince her mother any further.
But she knows that her mother is worried for her, and for her own reputation. By marrying into Jooheon’s family, Mrs Nana’s small enterprise would be able to be revived again. This is a convenient set up for the future.
Dior’s family didn’t want to promise her that.
“Okay.” Dodo says under her breath.
***
Dodo flips her phone open. Dior is still the first in her contact, in her emergency contact even. That heart emoji makes her way through. Dodo wants to seek some advice, but she also fears that she is intruding in Dior's new life.
Whatever. Like what Dior said, both of them need to learn to grow up on their own.
Dodo swipes off the contact list, and opens the new email she receives. Kihyun has sent a congratulatory email to all, and surprise surprise, he even apologises for his tantrums in Daegu. He said that he will try to work for the extra funding, and they will proceed with Act 4 next Tuesday.
> Dodo and Junseo, I’ve made adjustments to the script. Please refer attached.
Although she opens the document, her eyes are too lazy to skim through it. It’s completely new, no red marks as Kihyun used to do in the early days. Seems like Kihyun has omitted all his energy for formatting. Ugh, let’s just hope Jiyeon gets to say her side of the story here.
Dodo closes the document, and reads the email again. She notices that Kihyun has emailed it to all the crew, their email addresses not hidden behind BCC. She taps open the list, and scrolls down.
“Im Sangah <[email protected] >”
Dodo stares at the email address. She wonders if she should do some sleuthing, and finds out what her fellow colleague is like. Sangha didn’t take the same bus as all of them as she had to drive all the equipment back, so there was no chance to strike up a conversation at all. She was already gone by morning.
Even at the dinner, Sangah excused herself earlier, way before everyone got super drunk. Sangah seated herself at the end of the long table, strategically nearest to the exit. Like it was all planned. Dodo was seated next to her own assistant, Yujin, which was a given. No conversation could easily pass through the raucous noise in between.
Sangah didn’t even make any grand announcement for her departure. The chair was gently pushed, and she bowed to the people next to her. She appeared cool and collected still, as if the soju didn’t defeat her. Although Dodo did notice how Sangah was slightly wobbly as she walked out the door, and felt the need to check if Sangah reached her room safe and sound. Or maybe call a taxi for her. Or maybe take the same taxi home.
Which could’ve been cute, if it was not odd, desperate, and creepy.
It’s not like anyone’s going to look into my search history anyway.
She keys in Jangmi Sounds. An instagram account, almost professional. No faces, just Sangah’s back behind her deck, and the studio she’s part-timing at. Dried roses and a bottle of whiskey. There’s also a Facebook page, but just like the Instagram account, it’s completely minimal. The platform’s there just for work, a simple address book entry on the internet. Both links to her portfolio.
Sangah’s portfolio is humble, but impressive; she’s worked for two large theatre shows, and even for big names like Epik High at Ewha University. Her other work with Kihyun was “Midnight”, which won the Best Sound Engineering and Best Directing two years ago and shot Kihyun to fame. She graduated with a Dean's List and an honorary award.
There’s another branch to her portfolio, which is a soundcloud account. Dodo snickers. Of course she would be a Soundcloud rapper. But she taps anyway.
Seven songs are listed, all individual. The first song on the list, called “Scent (Demo)”, features the sight of the ocean waves, drenched in purple. 3:40 minutes long. The other Scent, assuming it’s the final one, is only at 2:25.
She clicks play on the demo version, and drifts into slumber to the piano keys.
***
They get a private room all to themselves. Dodo tries not to fidget too much in her black dress - especially not to show too much of an annoyance in front of the Lee family. She’s an actress, she can hold herself together, right?
Well, she tried. The only payment she gets here is a relatively good meal and potentially an unhappy marriage. Jooheon sat across from her, also refusing to look into her eyes as he digs into his plate. With his short hair, it’s hard for him to hide his shifty eyes, his nervousness. Unlike the previous dinner, he had no cap to hide into. This is their god knows how many times meeting each other, and much to their parents’ demise, still have yet to hold a conversation beyond “the food’s good.”
The parents, too, try to mask their disappointment with the excuse that both of them are just being shy. That maybe, they would hit it off better if it’s only the two of them, no parental unit to hawk around. The parents try to drown the awkwardness between the two by loudly conversing among themselves, clinking their wine glasses together.
“Heard your Dodo is on her way to be a superstar?” Jooheon’s father asks, his loud voice growling with delight.
“On the expense of leaving her mother alone.” Mrs Nana teases. “Last week she was in Daegu, and next week she’s going to Gwangju. I’m lucky the director didn't send her to Japan as he wished!”
Dodo winces at her mother’s proud hostage. Her eyes roll in defiance, almost dropping her knife down with a loud clang. She catches a glimpse of Jooheon’s thin yet drawn out smile squished in between his cheeks. As if he wants to comfort her, but fear that he’s being judged.
“Well, actresses do get to travel, if not far too much. Wonder if that would bother our dear Jooheon? We know that he needs someone all the time.” Jooheon’s mother nudges him. It’s his turn to roll his eyes away and stuff himself with a piece of the steak.
Dodo finds this whole situation ridiculous. Both of them are in their mid-20s, still too early to be bound to each other, and their parents are still treating them like little kids. It’s insulting. But who is she really to judge when she keeps herself quiet and follows her mother’s demands?
Both of them are too obedient for their own sake.
Dodo thinks it’s time to actually be alone with Jooheon and talk to him. She needs to set things straight with him, make him pull the brakes to this. Sure, his parents have promised to support her mother’s business, but he surely can convince them to do that without marriage involved, isn’t it?
Dodo recollects herself. She thinks about what her ex- no, her friend- Dior would do in this situation. She tries to emulate how Dior would confidently put her chin up and somehow slant her eyes to make it meaner, to further sharpen the point that she wants to put across, and her elbows on the table.
“Hey.” Dodo calls. Her voice somehow appears forced. “Maybe we do need to talk.”
Jooheon looks upwards from his plate. That poor puppy eyes, boy will never stand a chance against his parents. “Maybe we should.”
Dodo tries to ease herself down, and not be too intimidating. She doesn’t want to raise suspicions from the parental unit. “This place is nice, but maybe we can have coffee together some time.” She shoots a glare. For completely platonic reasons. Business reasons. Nothing too personal.
Jooheon seems to get the hint. “Sure. Cafes make me feel more comfortable anyway.” He pulls his collar and fixes his shoulders before he takes a nervous sip from his glass. “Anything away from-” eyes to the side.
Dodo understands. She takes out her phone and keys in a date. The talk has to wait until she’s back from Gwangju, which is another one or two weeks ahead. “You’re okay with that?”
Jooheon nods. He seems relaxed, and even more so relieved at how long it’ll take. “You just go and have a good time filming, yeah? Heard Gwangju looks beautiful this time of the year.” he says, trying to end it casually.
His mother hits him on his shoulders. “Look at them, they’re finally going on a date on their own!”
Dodo puts her phone down, and wishes she can reach out to someone, anyone, and scream her heart out.