Debuting by Riding the Returnee’s Bus – Chapter 178

Author: LyraDhani

‘Why… on earth… is this working? Am I really… the abnormal one?’

I tried my best to make sense of the situation, but it wasn’t easy to understand or accept what was happening. To the point where I wondered if The World was running a massive viral marketing campaign.

Actually, they were highly likely running one.

‘No. They’re definitely doing viral marketing.’

The only difference was how much they spent, whether they made it obvious or subtle. One thing I could say with certainty was that there wasn’t a single entertainment agency that didn’t engage in viral marketing. There were truckloads of posts so meticulously crafted that even people working in the industry wouldn’t notice they were promotional.

‘Is every single one of these posts part of the campaign?’

Of course, I couldn’t blame it all on marketing. No matter how aggressively you pushed viral campaigns, you couldn’t change the course of a ship that had already turned. Wave after wave was already crashing across online communities. A wave—no, a tsunami—of opinion was surging, claiming that <Fantasia>’s next album might just devour the entire scene.

And it wasn’t just that.

Absurdly…

‘What on earth are these people talking about?’

Some fans were already predicting that Execution would become a masterpiece. Countless netizens agreed with those posts, declaring that they couldn’t wait for Execution to be released. Just in the time it took to blink, <Execution> had suddenly become a candidate for ‘Album of the Year’.

‘No, what are these people talking about? Where are these hidden foreshadowings they keep mentioning?’

There wasn’t any hidden foreshadowing.

‘It’s just a six-month project… we can’t even fill it entirely with self-composed songs. We aren’t in a position to do that….’

It had already been decided that several songs would come from outside composers.

‘We’ve only finished three songs so far. The lore hasn’t even been decided yet.’

All sorts of speculations were running wild. People were swarming to analyze a single font choice or a single image; If anything, that made the situation even scarier.

Yes, from a marketing perspective, it was a good thing for <Fantasia>, but at the same time, it was too much pressure. The pouring interest felt like a fire burning out of control. Icarus hadn’t crashed to the ground for no reason. A part of me couldn’t help wondering if Fantasia might end up suffering the same fate.

I’d always assumed stories like this were just internet myths, but now, they didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Sure enough, a familiar face I met at the filming set approached me with a somewhat arrogant expression.

Lime, from [Kingdom].

He was the new actor who joined [Zombie] after Seo Dongkwon from [TOP9] dropped out. His role had been significantly reduced thanks to Seo Dongkwon’s antics, but he’d still managed to win a spot through the sudden audition.

I had no idea why he’d come all the way over here, but it was obvious he wanted to talk to me. More specifically, he was clearly trying to probe me about Execution, the topic that had set every online community on fire. After all, he’d been bombarding me with messages ever since the teaser dropped.

Just as I’d expected, he spoke. His opening line came completely out of nowhere.

“The album preparation… exactly when did you start it?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I told you we just started.”

“Hah. You don’t have to lie. I’ve already figured it all out.”

‘Seriously, can someone tell me what is wrong with this guy?’

“I knew something felt off. The news that <Fantasia> was going straight into a full-length album. I thought there was no way… I couldn’t believe you’d make that decision, but as expected, the great Lee Unha had a plan all along.”

“What plan? Seriously, hyung, it’s not like that.”

“You can fool others, but you can’t fool me. That full-album project… wasn’t it already in progress since the <PARADISE> promotions? No, maybe even before that? Were you already coordinating with Kim Haejun during Idol Classism?”

“Huh?”

“And without knowing that… did our [Kingdom] just fall into a trap?”

‘Seriously.’

“I thought we were competing on equal ground, but in reality, we were at a disadvantage by several months. But well, I’ll consider it a reasonable handicap. [Kingdom] is serious this time too. No matter how much of a masterpiece <Execution> turns out to be, the album we’re producing now won’t fall behind.”

‘I keep telling you, it’s not a masterpiece. It isn’t even out yet.’

“We’re going to make a masterpiece too. We’ll make an album that rivals the ‘Album of the Year’. Like your <Fantasia>, our [Kingdom] will also contain our own stories.”

‘Hey, stop.’

“This should make for an interesting competition, Lee Unha.”

He extended his hand. As we shared an awkward handshake, that arrogant face was once again reflected in my eyes.

“Of course, I won’t lose here either.”

The thought struck me that I needed to do something about him, in a different sense. Honestly, the whole situation was bizarre—especially the fact that Lime joined [Zombie] immediately after Seo Dongkwon left.

Quite some time had passed since that day, but no one could have imagined he would bolt over here so fast. I heard the production crew was incredibly flustered because of it. Regardless of the trouble Seo Dongkwon caused, whether or not to cast Lime—who was a party to the incident—was another matter.

Nevertheless, the reason they slotted Lime into that role was fairly clear. The production company and investors wanted another idol actor, and Lime fit the criteria perfectly.

More importantly…

‘Because he’s actually a good actor.’

He was the guy who had successfully mimicked Lee Unha during his copycat idol days. I didn’t know if he’d had acting lessons from the start, but since he’d been under [Crown] since he was very young, he’d probably taken every class available. Regardless of the fact that he’d become something of an abandoned pawn at his agency now, he had once been Kang Hyuk’s muse—the elite trainee everyone at Crown called their Prince.

On top of that, he was good at variety shows too, so it was safe to say he was a person perfectly specialized for this industry.

And furthermore….

‘He’s sociable.’

I’d heard plenty of people saying the set had become much livelier since he’d joined. Unlike someone, he was enthusiastic and even naturally charming, so in every respect he was a welcome addition to the Zombie team.

Only one thing bothered me: the fact that my fellow actors in [Zombie] thought Lime and I were best friends.

“Actor Lee! Lime!”

“Yes!”

“It’s good that you’re close. But aren’t you two spending too much time together?”

‘We aren’t close.’

“We were just talking about Unha’s next album for a moment! Sunbaenim!”

“Ahhh. That! It’s a very hot topic right now….”

“Yes. He says it’s an album they’ve been preparing for a very long time. Our [Kingdom] will likely come out with a full album around the same time. That’s what worries me. I’m afraid we’ll lose to Fantasia. You’ll be cheering for Kingdom, right, sunbaenim?”

“Hahahahahaha. Ah. I’m Team <Fantasia>, obviously.”

“Ah….”

“Hahahaha! I’m kidding, of course I’ll cheer for [Kingdom] too. Anyway.”

“Yes!”

“It’s nice that you two are getting along, and talking about your next albums is fine too, but now that you’re on set, shouldn’t you be talking about acting? So? Have you two practiced your chemistry yet?”

“Actually, I was just learning acting from Unha.”

“Oho. Our Actor Lee. Are you taking care of your juniors already just because you got here a bit sooner?”

“Oh! N-no, sunbaenim!”

“Hahahahahaha!”

“Hehe….”

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

Naturally, I had never taught Lime acting. The guy who had lied so effortlessly stood there with the biggest grin imaginable.

‘Seriously, this guy’s incredible too. No matter how I look at him, he’s anything but ordinary. I guess this is the level you need just to survive in this industry.’

After sharing a brief conversation, it was back to waiting, and more waiting. Even during the short breaks, talk about acting or the industry continued with the other actors. Even Grandpa Byeon, who didn’t have a shoot today, showed up on set just to show his face.

I chatted with Actress Yoo Aran and several supporting actors about acting, the entertainment industry, and all sorts of trivial topics. Meanwhile, my scenes were scheduled much later in the day, which seemed to be the director’s consideration. Instead of just making me wait, it seemed he was giving me time to adjust to the atmosphere of the set and see how it functioned.

I thought I had grown used to cameras, but this type of filming set was still something I hadn’t adapted to…. Thanks to the wait, my nerves were easing up.

‘I feel like I might do even better than usual.’

The air on set, which felt heavy when I first arrived, now felt light. I was even getting used to the staff members who were frantic to save production costs and trying to capture as much as possible in the shortest time.

‘It feels a bit… stress-relieving….’

My head had been aching because of <Fantasia>, but during the moments I focused on acting, I felt like I could forget everything. It was a time when I could focus entirely on someone else—on Choi Seonghan, the character Lee Unha was playing, rather than on myself.

Before long, the brief silence ended, and it was finally time to film. The art department staff touched up my makeup—or rather, my special-effects makeup—and gave me one final inspection. The assistant director informed me of the blocking I had to follow. He explained the positions of the lights and how the cameras would move with me.

I already knew, but I kept nodding.

There was no communication with the other lead or supporting actors. It was a solo shoot for my character, [Choi Seonghan]. Instead, I talked with the extras. We were double-checking the scene we had synchronized beforehand.

After what could only be described as a long, tedious wait, an enormous number of people on set were now all waiting to hear the director’s voice.

A total of five cameras. Including the drone cameras, there were even more.

A single take.

A 15-minute sequence that would serve as the opening of [Zombie].

The moment in the world’s timeline when the virus first spread through the city.

“Huff… huff… huff….”

— Ready….

“Huff… huff….”

— Action!

The instant the command rang out, the zombies charged toward Lee Unha—no, at Choi Seonghan.

“Grrrr! Gasp!!!”

“Grrr! Grrrrrrrr!”