sovbooks Chapter 30 Knife
Chapter 30 Knife
After Park Jiyeon returned home, the half-dead green plant became her only timer.
On the first day of watering, the leaves were still drooping. She stared at it for a long time, thinking that if this thing died, she would give up. But on the second day, she inexplicably watered it again.
On the third day, tender green needles sprouted from the bare stem.
She took a picture with her phone, her finger hovering over Su Yu's chat window. She typed "Representative Su, it's alive," then deleted it. She typed "I'm waiting," then deleted it again. Finally, the phone screen went black.
On the fourth day, the little green thing had grown a bit.
On the fifth day, old posts from the "exclusion incident" surfaced online, calling her a "femme fatale." She read one of them and then put her phone face down on the bed.
On the sixth day, two small leaves sprouted from the new bud. She finally couldn't resist and sent the photo over.
Just two words: "They're alive."
Su Yu did not reply.
On the seventh day, the phone rang.
"Park Ji-yeon," Su Yu's voice was crisp and clear, "joining the crew next week. Playing a crazy woman who's being abused at home. Two scenes, getting beaten up and then fighting back. Episodes seven and eight, filmed in two days."
Park Jiyeon gripped her phone, her palms sweating, but her voice remained steady: "Representative Su, I—"
"Don't be moved. If you mess up the performance, we'll throw you out."
"Can't be smashed."
"They haven't even filmed it yet, and they're already being stubborn."
"It's the same whether you take a picture or not."
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a short laugh: "Okay. I'll send you the address. Don't be late, I don't wait for anyone."
On the day she joined the crew, Park Jiyeon arrived an hour early.
The film set was in an even more dilapidated residential building next door. Several bread carts with blacked-out window tints were parked downstairs. She stood downstairs, clutching her backpack strap, not moving.
My phone vibrated. Su Yu: "Get up here when you arrive. First floor. Don't pretend to be an mushroom downstairs."
She looked up; the third-floor window was open, and a figure was smoking. How did he know she was here?
Park Jiyeon took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The hallway smelled musty, and the motion-activated lights were broken. She groped her way up to the second floor in the dark, when suddenly the lights came on around the corner.
The first-floor living room was converted into a makeshift film set. Lights, cameras, and a tangled mess of wires made it difficult to even step. In one corner, Yoon Shi-yoon was engrossed in his phone, Chae Soo-bin was adjusting her laptop, and the director, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, was gesturing to the cinematographer.
No one noticed the little girl in the gray hoodie standing at the door.
Su Yu dragged a folding chair out of the pile of clutter, placed it against the wall, and gestured with his chin at her: "Sit there. Don't block the light."
She obediently sat down and spread the script on her lap. Jiang Meina, a supporting character in this episode. Her character is simple: after being hit by her boyfriend, she retaliates with a stab. Her action instructions are only four words: "Disarm, stab."
Beside it was a note Su Yu had casually scribbled: "Don't be afraid, the knife is plastic. But you have to really hate."
The first scene: getting beaten up.
The male co-star was a burly man with prop scars on his face. Before filming began, the director instructed, "Xiao Pu, he's rough with his hands, so be careful and just use camera tricks."
In the first take, a slap came down, and she dodged it. The director yelled, "Cut!"
She dodged it again on the second take. The director nodded: "Good."
Article 3.
A slap came flying through the air.
Park Jiyeon didn't dodge.
"Snapped!"
The sharp sound stunned everyone on set. The director forgot to call "cut," Yoon Shi-yoon looked up, and Su Yu also peeked out from behind the monitor.
Park Jiyeon covered her face and squatted in the corner. The tears were physiological, brought on by the pain. But she didn't make a sound, her shoulders shaking like leaves, her eyes fixed on the male actor, like a wildcat cornered.
"Stop! That's a wrap!" the director shouted, his voice cracking as he realized what had happened.
The stagehand hurriedly handed her an ice pack. She didn't take it, but got up herself and took the warm water that Cai Xiubin offered, her hands trembling so much that she spilled half of it.
"You don't need to actually take that slap just now," Cai Xiubin said softly.
"I know."
"Then why didn't you dodge?"
Park Jiyeon didn't say anything. She took a sip of water, walked behind the monitor, and looked at Su Yu.
"How is it?"
"Not bad." Su Yu exhaled a smoke ring without even lifting his eyelids. "My face isn't swollen. I'm lucky."
She paused for a moment, then smiled. It was the kind of relief that said, "As long as you don't kick me out, I'm fine with anything."
"Representative Su, for the second scene, you don't need a stunt double."
"I know."
The second scene takes place in the afternoon. Kim Do-gi teaches Kang Mi-na how to use a knife.
Yoon Shi-yoon twirled the prop knife in a flourish: "Grip the knife tightly, and don't hesitate when you thrust it. Hesitation will lead to defeat."
Park Jiyeon took the knife. It was a replica butterfly knife, made of plastic, with burrs on the handle. She had practiced Taekwondo for six years and held a third-degree black belt. Although she had never handled a knife before, her body remembered it.
Grip the knife, thrust it out, and sheathe it.
I practiced it three times. The fourth time, my movements were so fast they left afterimages.
The director yelled "Action!" Kim Do-ki handed her the knife, which she grabbed. Even as her boyfriend rushed towards her, she didn't flinch. The blade pierced through, embedding itself deeply in the protective padding on the male actor's chest.
With a muffled "plop".
The force was so great that it made the burly man take two steps back.
After the director yelled "cut," she stood there, her hands trembling slightly. Not out of fear, but out of excitement. The thrill of venting three years' worth of pent-up resentment on a plastic knife.
"One take. Awesome." The stage manager whistled.
Park Jiyeon walked up to Su Yu and handed him the knife.
Su Yu didn't take it, but leaned against the windowsill with a half-smile: "Here you go. To commemorate your first time as a 'murderer'."
She paused for a moment, then stuffed the knife into her backpack, the zipper making a hissing sound as it was pulled.
"Representative Su, that flower has survived."
"I saw it."
"What about the contract?"
"Sign it next week. What's the rush?"
She turned and walked out. She stopped at the door, but didn't look back.
"Representative Su, thank you."
"Thank yourself. It's your own fault for not dodging that slap."
The door was pushed open and then closed again. Her ponytail swayed behind her head and disappeared into the dimly lit stairwell.
Su Yu stood by the window, watching the gray figure walk out of the alley until it disappeared from sight.
The sound of keyboards clicking upstairs is still ringing. Tap tap tap.
The green plants on the windowsill, their previously wilted leaves now upright, sprouted tender green buds. Su Yu picked up her phone and sent a message to Park Ji-yeon:
"The walls are finished. Next time you come, you don't have to stare at that crooked spot; it's embarrassing."
The wind was strong at the alley entrance, and Park Jiyeon pulled out her phone as soon as she turned the corner. The screen lit up, and she saw that line of text, and then she saw the eye-rolling emoji—it looked exactly like Su Yu leaning against the windowsill, half-closing his eyes as he looked at her.
She stood under the bus stop sign, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to reply with "Who told you to swipe the wrong way?", then she wanted to reply with "I'll swipe it for you next time", but in the end she only typed "Oh".
After sending it, I felt it was too cold, so I added "I understand".
Two seconds later, the phone vibrated again.
Su Yu: "The handwriting is still ugly."
She stared at those three words and suddenly burst out laughing. People waiting for the bus around her turned to look at her, but she didn't care. She put her phone back in her pocket and walked as lightly as if she were walking on clouds.
The plastic knife pressed against my back in the backpack, but it didn't hurt; instead, it felt reassuring.
So this is what it feels like to be seen.
It wasn't because of the camera, or because of the fans shouting, but because of someone—who saw her get slapped but didn't flinch, saw her hand trembling when she held the knife, saw her standing at the door too afraid to come in, and saw that the almost dead flower pot come back to life.
She looked up at the sky. It was rare to see a sunset in Seoul at dusk. The sunset was orange-red, like the wall that had just been painted.
She wondered if she should bring a new potted plant when she signed the contract next week.
Or, bring a bucket of gray-blue paint.
The walls are painted now. Next time I go, I'll have to do something else.