If We Could Start Again

Ready, action.

I really didn’t want to run into you today, but in the end, I did.
I want to just pass you by like always, but as always, I can’t.
Unlike my usual self, I try to pretend I didn’t see you, but then I stop, turn my body, and face you.
You just stand there, looking at me with that calm face, as if you knew I could never just walk away.
Completely different from the words I had prepared, my true feelings suddenly burst out of my throat.

“You’re the thing I regret most in my life. Really.”

Bloodshot eyes, tears welling up, a trembling voice.
I hate you. I resent you. I want to hurt you as much as I can.
I want to scream, how could you, of all people, do this?
That you’re worse than trash.
That you’re so pathetic, you don’t even meet half of half the expectations I had for you.
I want you to regret this. I want you to hurt, as much as you’ve crushed me, as much as I’m disappointed in you.

“If I could turn back time and not love you, I would. Yeah, if I could, I definitely would. The time I spent loving someone like you… it feels wasted. Unfair.”

But you were someone I would have given everything for, once.
My lips can’t even properly voice my resentment.
The words I manage to throw out are closer to a confession: I loved you, and maybe I still love you a little.
A confession that loving you was painful, and it still is.

Feeling pathetic, I bite my lip.
To think that a feeling that was never once reciprocated could be so precious that I can’t even bring myself to be cruel. This lingering attachment.

As always, my emotions aren’t easily controlled.
Tears finally fall down my cheeks. I quickly turn my head and wipe them away with my sleeve.
Even if it makes me look ridiculous, I don’t want to seem weak.

“You’re right.”

“…”

“All that time you spent. It was a waste.”

I thought I had no more expectations left, but your thorny words leave a long, deep scratch on the surface of a heart I had tried so hard to ignore.
Thinking it was a waste was supposed to be my feeling alone.

I want to ask you, what do you have to feel was wasted?
Was the time I loved you really that terrible for you?
How can you be this insensitive?
Completely unconcerned whether the other person’s true feelings get shattered. You’re perfectly fine on your own.

I don’t think even a complete stranger could be this casually cruel.
I lift my wet eyes to look at your heartless face.
And all I can do is take a step back.

“Fine.”

Just as I’m about to turn away, clearly hurt, you block my path.
And then you say something unexpected.

“So, if I were given one single chance to turn back time, I’d love you without hesitation.”

“…”

“So you’d have no regrets.”

“What is that supposed to…”

I want to seem unaffected, but my breathing falters.
My gaze, lost and wandering in the air with nowhere to go, is pulled upward by my shock.
The moment I look up, the tears I was desperately holding back fall helplessly.

“…”

Finally, our eyes meet, and my voice trails off.
The strands of hair that have come loose flutter gently in the spring breeze, carrying the scent of summer.

Your hand reaches out, as if to wipe away my tears.
Along with a look in your eyes, a warmth I’ve never seen before.
Your hand hesitates, almost touching, then finally stops short of my cheek, only tucking the stray hair behind my ear.
It’s so careful, like touching something that might crumble.
In that touch, I realize something has changed.
I forget to breathe.

It’s as if the world has stopped. A moment I’ve always longed for.

“…”

Swoosh. The sound of rustling leaves breaks the silence surrounding us.
I clench my fist, trying to hold onto my crumbling resolve.
All this time, everything I directed at you just quietly faded away. My affection, and every bit of attention that held the light of affection.

“…And you say this now?”

“Is it too late?”

I don’t answer.
Then, I clearly see a flash of pain in your eyes.
At this reaction, one I’ve never seen before, my heart sinks, but at the same time, a twisted sense of satisfaction blooms inside me.
So this is what you took from me all this time.

But at the same time—

“Cut!”

The sound of the cut signal through the megaphone bursts through the tension between the two people standing in the frame.
Immediately, instructions follow:
“That streetlight over there is weird. Because of it, the side near the glass is coming out too dark, so we’ll need to adjust the lighting. There are too many leaves in the shot too, so sweep those up… Let’s do that last one again, okay? Let’s give it our best.”

If they have to set up the lighting again, it’ll take at least twenty or thirty minutes.
A silent sigh escaped from the staff, who were all subtly excited about leaving work soon.
But that lasted only a moment.
The filming set became quietly bustling with the staff’s synchronized movements, all eager to go home.

When the director called out, “Yoo-ri, can you come here for a second?” Choi Min-ah, who plays Oh Yoo-ri, crossed her arms as if hugging herself and quickly walked over to the director’s side.
Left alone, Yoo-hyun looked around and then quietly moved away.

As Yoo-hyun slipped out, his manager Sang-jin, who had been waiting in a corner, strode over.
“Want to go to the car? Why, does it look like the wait will be long?” he asked.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“You told me before. That for this drama, ‘The One,’ there was one other person auditioning besides me.”

“Umm, did I? …Hmm, I think I might have?”

“Right, you did.”

“But why bring that up now? Did Director Baek say something to you?”

It had been a month since the drama ‘The One’ began filming.
Yoo-hyun didn’t know much about Director Baek.
Since the start of filming, scheduling issues had him shooting with B-Team, not the main directing team, A-Team.
He had only met Director Baek as the director for the first time a week ago.
Out of four shoots with him, the first two were for promotional videos, so today was only the second actual drama shoot.

After a week and four shoots with Director Baek, Yoo-hyun’s impression was simple.
He’s a unique director.

In all his previous projects, the directors gave detailed directions, and the actors would shape their performances accordingly.
Actors do their own analysis, but there’s a basic framework set by the writer and the director’s intentions, so in the beginning, you have to rely on the director’s guidance.
But Director Baek was different from other directors.
He didn’t interfere with anything. He just threw Yoo-hyun in front of the camera and watched, telling him to do everything, from start to finish, the way he wanted.

Faced with this experimental direction, Yoo-hyun was just confused.
Director Baek would watch the monitor with an unchanging, calm face and give the cut signal at an appropriate time.
If the words “Let’s do that last scene one more time” repeatedly came out of his mouth, Yoo-hyun had to quickly figure out what was wrong, guessing the director was seriously dissatisfied.
Was his delivery too fast? Was his tone too light? Were his gestures too exaggerated?
When the shoot seemed to be dragging on excessively, a quiet ‘OK’ would come, and he couldn’t tell from that whether he was doing well or not.

Still, Yoo-hyun thought he shouldn’t feel disappointed about it.
If this was Director Baek Hyun-soo’s unique style, then directors don’t all have to be the same. This, too, would be an experience.

But it turned out that wasn’t the case.
This unique, experimental direction, bordering on indifference, was reserved for Yoo-hyun alone.

Yoo-hyun turned his body towards where Director Baek was standing and quietly observed them.
So you can talk that much.
Min-ah, with a serious expression, was mostly listening to Director Baek, her arms crossed and her neck tucked in like a turtle.

At this point, one could speculate various reasons for the director’s attitude, but it seemed there was only one conclusion that explained such discriminatory behavior.
…Director Baek doesn’t like Go Yoo-hyun.

Sang-jin shook Yoo-hyun, who was staring blankly into the distance, to bring him back to reality.
“Hey! Did Baek Hyun-soo say something to you?”
“Huh? Oh… no, it’s not that. He doesn’t say anything.”
The problem is that he says nothing at all… Yoo-hyun sighed inwardly.

“From your expression, it seems like it’s something. What is it?”
“More importantly, hyung. Do you have a blanket by any chance?”
“There might be one in the car. Why?”
“Then, could I have the blanket?”
“A blanket in this weather?”
“So, do you have it or not?”

Yoo-hyun, who usually runs hot and doesn’t even bother with outerwear, asking for a blanket while wearing a long-sleeved shirt was unusual.
Hmm, suspicious. Sang-jin’s eyes scanned Yoo-hyun from head to toe, puzzled.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sang-jin, as if something occurred to him, slapped his forehead and then quickly stepped towards Yoo-hyun, flipping his shirt collar to check the back of his neck.
Startled, Yoo-hyun flailed his arms at Sang-jin.

“Ah, hyung! It’s not that!”
“You know the CEO is still on edge because of those photos of you that got circulated last time, right? He said if you get caught one more time, he’ll shut down our entire team. You need to be super careful.”
“It’s me who gets caught, why would he shut down the perfectly fine team?”
“Si-hyung is in the car right now. Want me to call him over?”
“Ah, I’m telling you, it’s really not that!”
“Well… if it’s not, then that’s a relief.”
“So, the blanket?”

Suspicious… Sang-jin, who had roughly let go of his neck, narrowed his eyes trying to find a clue, then clicked his tongue when he saw Yoo-hyun moving as if to go get it himself.
“Wait here. I’ll go get it.”

* * * *

Heo PD, who was in charge of filming the behind-the-scenes content, clicked his tongue.
How am I supposed to edit this?

Since his freelance days, Heo PD was famous for capturing the raw energy of the set while perfectly catching the points that fans go crazy for.
Most of the outsourced behind-the-scenes films that received comments like ‘I got into the drama because of the BTS’ or ‘The BTS is more fun than the actual show’ had passed through his hands. His intuition and skill were that exceptional.
Thanks to this, Y Company, the BTS production company that scouted him last year, became renowned among drama enthusiasts for its high-quality content.

Originally, Heo PD wasn’t supposed to be working on this drama at this time.
For some reason, a production company contacted him out of the blue, a contract was rushed through in a matter of days, and Heo PD found himself in charge of ‘The One’s’ behind-the-scenes footage almost by accident.

Heo PD had proven that supplementary content can boost viewer ratings.
With the simple belief that if he finds it interesting, others will too, he had never failed.
But why? This drama wasn’t as easy as he thought.
He was filming everything as requested by the production company—”Capture anything usable”—but there didn’t seem to be much worth salvaging.

First of all, Director Baek, the main director, completely ignored the BTS camera.
After asking around, Heo PD found out that even when filming movies, Director Baek disliked behind-the-scenes films because they disrupted immersion.
Even making a huge concession, it’s not like he was new to navigating tricky situations while filming BTS material. He could let that slide, but even the actors were so reserved that it made the whole process unenjoyable.