The Trashy PD Has To Survive as an Idol - Chapter 381

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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381

Min Ji-heon let the desolate wind wash over him before releasing a faint laugh, belated as it was.

“…Yeah, I’ve reflected on it a bit.”

It was almost amusing to see him—usually sporting that mischievous smile and evasively dodging answers with cryptic remarks—now completely deflated.

“What? Your acting is terrible?”
“No, it’s about poking at you back at Cabu. Having your story turned into a drama… I really hated it.”
“So you have to experience it yourself to understand, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

Apparently judging something from my persistent gaze, Min Ji-heon mumbled an excuse.

“…Don’t look at me so pitifully. I can only act when I understand something.”
“But you’ve played a character who loves a frog before.”
“Loving something deeply isn’t that difficult. The object just happened to be a frog.”

I was about to retort at how absurd that sounded, but for some reason Lee Ji-hyun came to mind, so I closed my mouth.
He lowered his gaze and continued speaking with a bitter expression.

“And honestly, the circumstances surrounding the protagonist in ‘Before the Moon Wanes’ don’t make logical sense. Even though he’s someone who sees strange things, the people around him accept it so naturally. That’s why I mentioned it to Screenwriter Kim Sook-hee several times—the causality seemed a bit weak.”
“….”
“So the screenwriter said this: the character in the story is the fortunate type. In this world, there are people born lucky enough never to experience such things. …What did I say to that?”

One corner of Min Ji-heon’s mouth lifted as he recalled that moment.

“Ah, yes… I see.”
“….”

After speaking, he seemed even more frustrated with himself and let out a heavy sigh.
These were experiences I’d never had, and I couldn’t empathize or understand them. I had no desire to comfort him, but there was one point I needed to address.

“…Well, I suppose that’s possible. But you have a younger brother too, don’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

But what came back was a sharp, cutting response.

“He doesn’t know anything. I’d have to be insane to tell him something like that.”

As I stood there with my arms crossed, watching silently, Min Ji-heon casually flicked the stack of paper cups with his fingertip and spoke.

“…Do you know what I thought when I first saw him?”

Adorable?
During the Dead after Hope shoot, when my emotions toward my younger brother were so overwhelming I couldn’t make sense of them, Min Ji-heon had approached me and rattled on about his own brother. Piecing together everything he’d said, that was the only conclusion I could draw.

“Ah… I was annoyed.”
“…What?”
“I was so irritated I felt sick to my stomach, seriously. We share half the same blood, but there he was, perfectly fine. Meanwhile, I was a mess.”

I was speechless.
My mind still vividly recalled Min Ji-heon saying things like, “His small fingers trembled like fern fronds…” and “That was when I first realized that warmth actually had a scent, a real one…”

“Didn’t you say that affection for the world just welled up the moment you saw your brother?”
“Did I say that? I don’t remember.”

He did. In Unknown Actor Tycoon.
Min Ji-heon, rolling his eyes, added flatly.

“I was probably just testing you, hyung.”
“….”

Can I hit this bastard?

“Seriously, you’re insane….”

I can’t even prove I actually heard it.
I was just clicking my tongue when Min Ji-heon let out a small laugh beside me.

“Why did you believe that? I don’t know what I said, but my brother and I aren’t that close. He doesn’t even like me.”

I swept back my unstyled hair to deliver the line naturally, exhaling a soft sigh.

“By the time you hit thirty, shouldn’t you be able to handle your hair like an adult?”
“What?”
“Your younger brother likes you. You should take it as affection when kids grumble during their rebellious phase, not act like this.”

Min Ji-heon, who had been blinking in surprise, soon offered a calm smile. His mood seeming to lighten, he leaned his upper body against the side of the vending machine and met my gaze directly.

“…What? Are you trying to cheer me up?”

Where exactly in what he’d just said and done warranted this?

“I know I’m twisted. I know the world can never be fair, and that I was genuinely unlucky. But did you really worry about me? You’re someone who never drops formality in a place like this normally.”
“Get lost.”

He didn’t flinch at my hostile attitude, just grinned mischievously.

“Now I understand why you’re so popular.”

I raised my eyebrows in question, and Min Ji-heon lifted his index finger, reddened slightly by the cold, and gently poked my chest.

“You say exactly what people most want to hear at precisely the right moment.”

I swatted his hand away and asked.

“What’s gotten into you lately?”
“Huh?”

He rubbed the back of his hand as if it hurt, tilting his head slightly to look at me.

“Why are you meddling in everything?”

Until now, he’d either stood by watching or only helped when things were life-or-death. But lately, he seemed intent on eliminating every variable beforehand.
Like keeping me out of this worthless drama, or preventing me from meeting Jung Chung-yeon.
Who knows how much scheming he might be doing behind the scenes.

“Can’t you speak a little more gently?”

Min Ji-heon, who had been grumbling, awkwardly averted his gaze.

“…It’s just an impulse.”

And I spoke in a hushed voice.

“I received the script a few months ago. As I dug into the role, I kept thinking about you, Brother. I thought you must have had it really hard.”
“So?”

The guy shrugged once and met my gaze calmly.

“It’s my way of cheering you on. So you don’t hold onto regrets and leave your younger brother—the one who can’t live without you—alone for too long.”

Even after being deceived so thoroughly recently, I couldn’t bring myself to doubt Min Ji-heon’s words.
I let out a soft laugh and shot back.

“Why? Is that something only people born unlucky do?”
“…Ugh.”

Min Ji-heon waved his hand and snatched the paper cup of cold barley tea from my grip, then drained it in one go.

“…Let me put it this way—I don’t want to be the one holding back someone who’s made up their mind so firmly. So go ahead, do what your heart tells you, without hesitation.”

With a playful smile on his face, he even tossed the cup he’d drunk from into the trash bin. Then, as if to lighten the mood, he looked at me and added one more thing.

“Wow, I guess I like you more than I thought, Brother? The way I’m saying all this stuff.”

.
.
.

After changing into a black suit and returning to the set, the funeral hall altar was already filled with white chrysanthemums and seasonal flowers.
The costume staff member fastened a black armband with two white lines across my left arm.
In the end, Min Ji-heon’s effort to change the script for me didn’t amount to much. Whether as a son or a nephew, standing here as the chief mourner was all the same.
The Manager expressed concern, perhaps having heard something from the Acting Teacher, asking if I was okay with shooting the crying scene like this. I simply curved my lips upward and stepped into the camera’s frame. Truth be told, I had no real plan either.
The staff fell silent in an instant, anticipating the start of filming.

“33 to 1 to 1.”

Clap!

The slate clapped shut, and the camera’s red light flickered to life.
The extras playing mourners approached me. I bowed my head in a weary gesture of respect.
Yet somehow, I couldn’t immerse myself in the performance. Staring at the unfamiliar photograph of In-young, surrounded by white flowers, only made it worse.
Just as one of the mourner extras was about to light incense and place it in the censer,

“…Ah, sorry. Sorry. Let’s go again.”

Director Kang Jung-gun signaled to stop filming.
It seemed several camera positions weren’t satisfactory, so he was reassigning their placements.
We hadn’t even properly begun, yet I felt a vague sense of suffocation.

“Seo Ho-yoon, I’m sorry. Just one more time—….”

I nodded along with the director’s voice, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying clearly. In the gaps between his words, memories I’d kept hidden all this time came flooding back.
I only realized filming had resumed when a mourner came close enough that I caught the sharp scent of incense at the tip of my nose.

“—Don’t cling to regrets. Your brother wouldn’t want you to be left alone for so long, struggling like this.”

I was grateful for Min Ji-heon’s consideration, but there was one thing he was misunderstanding.
The person across from me, having completed two bows before the memorial tablet, turned toward me and lowered their head.

‘What can I do about it, even if I do cling to regrets?’

Ten-year-old Seo Ho-jin, whose eyes had been raw and red from crying, remained so vivid in my memory even now.
I too bent my knees and bowed in return.

“I’m not sure what to say…. Please accept my deepest condolences.”

I lowered my gaze and pulled my lips taut slightly.

“Thank you for coming.”

At the same moment, Director Kang Jung-gun called cut.
For some reason, not just the extras but everyone on set and the staff had their attention fixed on me.

‘I’ll need to shoot this again.’

I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, just in case. It was dry.
As expected, miracles didn’t simply happen out of nowhere.
After waiting in place for a while with no response coming back, I walked over to Director Kang Jung-gun, who was monitoring the footage to provide feedback. But the atmosphere was even more serious than when Min Ji-heon had flubbed his take.
The director stared intently at the screen, while the Assistant Director and other staff members chattered nervously among themselves.

“I didn’t shed any tears, but what do you think would be better?”
“…Well, that’s…”

As expected, it was clearly a mess.
At that moment, Director Kang Jung-gun, who had been scratching his head, spotted me and gestured.

“Ah, Seo Ho-yoon, just now.”
“Yes.”

I was seriously considering whether to use eye drops, but the director’s expression softened as our eyes met.

“I didn’t expect it, but it looks like you nailed it. I was thinking about doing another take, but I think it’s much better to just go with this as is.”
“…Really?”
“It’s the most satisfying shot of the day. I really like it.”

He chuckled and patted my shoulder, then discussed the next scene with the Assistant Director.
I stepped back and slowly moved away from the funeral hall. Only then did the heaviness in my chest seem to ease a little.
Just then, Min Ji-heon, who had been watching from among the staff, approached with the corners of his eyes raised.

“Shall we go then?”

The next scene was Min Ji-heon passing by my side in the hallway of the funeral hall, delivering his lines.
Though we repeated it several times, Min Ji-heon, who had been whining just hours before, surprisingly got into character quickly. Thanks to that, filming was able to wrap up early.

“Now I can finally go home and rest… It got so late. I’m sorry, Seo Ho-yoon.”
“Not at all. You worked very hard.”
“And if you ever think about becoming an actor for real later, let me know. I’ll shoot with you first.”

I could only smile at Director Kang Jung-gun’s business-like comment.
Just as I was about to head toward the van, Min Ji-heon, who had regained some energy, called me back.

“Wait a moment, Seo Ho-yoon.”

I wasn’t particularly inclined to stop, but when I did, he leaned close and whispered something in my ear.
After hearing what he had to say, I narrowed my eyes before returning to an expressionless face and offered a greeting.

“Yes, senior. Thank you for today.”
“You worked hard too, Seo Ho-yoon.”

After bowing repeatedly to the staff members, I barely managed to board the van before collapsing into my seat. Despite the shoot not being particularly long, I felt as exhausted as if I’d performed on several stages back-to-back.
After leaning the seat back as far as it would go and closing my eyes, the driver’s door opened shortly after.

“Ho-yoon, good work—oh, you’re already asleep…?”

The Manager, who had handed a gift to Director Kang Jung-gun and arrived humming cheerfully, quickly closed his mouth. But soon, the sound of the engine starting was followed by muttering.

“…Why is this kid so grumpy?”

***

“Ho-yoon, give us some spoilers!!!”
“I don’t want to.”
“Awww!!”

The moment I arrived in Seoul with a packed schedule, I had to head straight to the work studio where the members had gathered.
Before I could even open the door, Jung Da-jun came rushing at me.

“I’m seriously so curious about how it went! The Manager said you were absolutely incredible?! Everyone apparently forgot to even breathe while watching you!”
“Da-jun, stop exaggerating.”
“…Okay, fine.”

I pinched the youngest member’s lips shut with my thumb and index finger, forcing them closed. As he escaped from my hand and complained that he’d check it out on TV later anyway, he stretched both arms and lifted the magazine he’d been clutching to his chest into view.

“Look at this! This MQ Magazine cover is amazing! It matches the role and atmosphere of ‘Before the Moon Wanes’!!”

Any Korean worth their salt would sprawl out on a sofa. Ignoring his chatter, I focused on stretching out and shaking off my fatigue, but Jung Da-jun deliberately thrust the magazine in front of my face.
On a dark night, I could see Min Ji-heon walking across a bridge, firefly-like lights twinkling in the distance and white snow drifting down.
Though he wore a smile, perhaps because of the dark waves undulating on the far side, there was something melancholic about his expression.
His face looked absolutely stunning, but remembering what he’d said just before we parted ways, I felt an inexplicable irritation rising within me.

“Clean it up right now.”
“What? Why are you angry?”
“Where? Where?”

Kang Yi-chae, who had been perched on the armrest of the sofa near my feet, casually approached while popping a candy into his mouth.

“Let me see too.”
“I’m serious. Don’t you already feel the lack of dignity in this character?”
“Ooh~! Senior, you’re incredibly handsome.”

It was praise utterly devoid of sincerity, yet Jung Da-jun nodded with a pleased expression. As if he’d already forgotten my scolding, Jung Da-jun chattered away again, brimming with anticipation about the drama. Kang Yi-chae giggled and played along without reservation.
As I watched them, Min Ji-heon’s whisper echoed in my ears.

“I know you won’t hesitate to use any means necessary to achieve your goals. You’ll do whatever it takes to get what you want. That’s just who you are.”

In that moment, my gaze collided head-on with Kang Yi-chae’s as he turned his head.

“But be careful with Kang Yi-chae.”

A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but his eyes widened immediately after.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I have a feeling he’s going to mess things up properly one of these days.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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