Kim Ari, a broadcast writer and devoted “Bloy”—a fan who had been following Black Call’s Joo Woosung for four years—was completely out of her mind. Today’s guest is Joo Woosung!! She couldn’t believe they had actually succeeded in casting him. She had only been working hard to earn a little more money so she could support her boys, but somehow she’d ended up a writer on a successful public broadcast show, and now she was actually working with Joo Woosung himself. Before heading to work, she even bowed deeply to her most treasured Joo Woosung bromide. Shit... what if they call Chae Jungwoo as the on-the-spot guest today? Just imagining it made her heart pound irregularly, so she hurriedly popped one of the herbal pills she had bought a few days ago. At the station, she checked in with the morning team that had been working since dawn. “Seo Hoyun got cast.” “Oh~ he’s super hot these days. That’s great.” “Right? But apparently, he accepted the casting in like five seconds?” Ah... so it’s not Chae Jungwoo. She had been hoping it would be Chae Jungwoo, even if this was really just an appearance to promote Woosung’s solo track. The main PD had told Woosung to call a friend he felt most comfortable with, and without hesitation, he had dialed Seo Hoyun. “Good for you, Woosung-ah...” At least it meant he finally had a friend worth calling at dawn. She remembered back when he was a rookie on a quiz show, using a “call a friend” lifeline and desperately phoning Chae Jungwoo five times in a row. Her eyes grew misty at the memory. Come to think of it, he really has been working hard lately. About two years ago, rumors had spread that Woosung was dating someone. The reactions back then, even from fans, had felt suspiciously credible. But at some point, he had cleaned up everything around him so thoroughly that such talk was dismissed as just sasaeng gossip. He also treated fans better than ever. His professional work had always been perfect. And no matter what people said about him being friendly with juniors from other groups, it could never really tarnish Joo Woosung. Seo Hoyun’s image wasn’t bad, either. “Didn’t Woosung call Seo Hoyun on a variety show before, too?” “They really do seem close. And their images are both so positive. Even though fans usually hate seeing male idols hanging out, those two are kind of an exception. Paparazzi follow them everywhere but the only photos they ever get are of them eating fried rice together... Hey, Ari-ssi, what’s with your face?” Even as she thought that, she couldn’t help but feel a little sour. Why not get closer with his own members? “Joo Woosung-ssi, hello!” But the moment she saw him, all that vanished. Her mind went blank, her heart pounded like crazy. It felt like beams of light were streaming from the ceiling, and she could almost hear angels singing. Still, this was work, so she struggled to hold herself together and greeted him as calmly as she could. Talking with the main PD, Woosung smiled warmly every time he met eyes with the staff writers. “I’ll be in your care today.” Ah... fuck... I’m going to need LASIK. His neatly arched brows, the slight upward tilt of his eyes as they folded when he smiled—it was lethal. He used to feel more cold and sharp, but these days, with more years under his belt, he seemed softer, more relaxed. That was when a man appeared, carrying a coffee carrier full of drinks. Woosung looked briefly flustered, but when Hoyun handed him a green tea latte, he awkwardly accepted it. Hoyun then flashed a friendly smile and handed coffees to the staff. “Hello, I’m Seo Hoyun.” When it was her turn to take her drink, Ari realized Hoyun was far more handsome in person than she had expected. He wasn’t her type, but the cameras definitely didn’t do him justice. “What the—how’d you know this was my favorite?” Woosung’s eyes sparkled as he drank, while Hoyun, expression faintly stiff, scanned the station around them. But how did they even get this close? Any Black Call fan knew this: Joo Woosung was guarded and distant with most people. So when Seo Hoyun suddenly started appearing on Woosung’s social media as a “close dongsaeng,” fans hadn’t known what to make of it. “Alright! Let’s start filming!” Kim Ari sharpened her gaze, watching Hoyun carefully. And soon, she began noticing suspicious details. “Today’s mission is to find the fake PD among the real ones! Among the producers working at designated locations, there are actors pretending to be PDs. Find them!” Hoyun’s demeanor was far too calm. “Didn’t we already see the PDs’ faces today?” “Our network’s variety PDs are helping us out this time.” “...Then how are we supposed to know?” “Hahaha, you only get one chance! If you fail, you’ll be stuck working overtime at the station with us!” As Woosung’s blinking grew rapid with panic over the high-stakes mission, Hoyun sipped hot chocolate without a care. He gave off the scent of something fishy. “Damn, it’s over. We’re never going home today. I’ve gotta go play with my kitty...” “Hyung. Not that way, this way.” He knew the station’s layout too well. Even for a celebrity, unless they filmed there regularly, it was hard to know the hallways this precisely. But this was already the third time Hoyun had steered Woosung in the right direction. What the hell? Does he know a PD here? Even dating one? Her suspicions deepened. Meanwhile, Woosung kept grinning, trying to charm hints out of the ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ PDs, while Hoyun looked on like he was watching a comedy show. Every time the PDs demonstrated editing, Hoyun’s brow twitched slightly. He didn’t show anything else outwardly, but Ari, who had been watching him closely, caught it. “Next, we’ll screen the rough cut.” The rough cut review was where the PDs and writers watched the first draft, decided what was funny, what was boring, and set the editing direction. Woosung spent the whole time second-guessing everyone. This guy’s too plain, suspicious. That one’s way too awkward. He picked apart perfectly normal PDs. Meanwhile, Hoyun stayed silent, scribbling on a blank A4 sheet. “Today’s rough cut was done by a rookie PD, but it’s not bad. Pretty good, actually. Hahaha.” The main PD of Racing Me offered light praise. But the more the review went on, the more Hoyun’s face paled, like he was watching a train wreck. It was the look of someone watching a disaster, murmuring “Oh no, don’t do that...” Even worse, he kept patting at his pockets. Noticing, Woosung leaned in and whispered—though Ari’s sharp ears picked it up clear as day. “Are you sick? Why are you so restless today?” “And why do you keep rummaging around?” After a long pause, Hoyun finally muttered, “...Looking for candy.” Woosung tilted his head. “You want candy? Should I buy you some?” Still mumbling about whether Hoyun was actually ill, Woosung excused himself to the restroom. A staff member with a camera followed. A few minutes later, he returned, arms full of snacks. He handed drinks and chips to the others, then slid an entire bag of candy toward Hoyun. Her instincts tingled. And right then, as Hoyun shoved two candies into his mouth at once, he nudged Woosung. “Choose. Do you want more footage?” “Or do you want early wrap-up?” With that confident line, the main camera immediately swung to focus on Hoyun. She could already imagine the caption they’d add: This man, the true heartthrob of working adults! If Woosung had been alone, he’d never have completed the mission. Now, his eyes went glossy as he covered his mouth, staring at Hoyun. The entire staff burst into laughter at the sight. “Should we wrap it up early today?” And just like that, Seo Hoyun pointed out the fake PD in a single second. “Ahaha, sorry. Did I just ruin the airtime for everyone?” He even laughed disarmingly as he apologized. At that, hearts practically shot out of the staff’s eyes. “Seo Hoyun-ssi, you’ve become human. You’ve really become human...” “No wonder the staff loves you. It’s been forever since I got to leave work before sunset, with all this great footage too.” “Aigo, you all should hurry home.” Polite as ever, Hoyun’s words made Woosung glance sideways at him with a sulky expression. Not wanting the day to end just like that, Kim Ari racked her brain and opened her mouth. “But isn’t it a little disappointing to wrap up a ‘PD experience’ segment just ? PD-nim, how about letting the two of them actually taste what a real variety PD does?” She still had things she wanted to confirm about Seo Hoyun. “Oh! That’s good. If we film a short extra cut, we could use it for a YouTube pre-release. Actually, I saw Hoyun-ssi editing in The Dawn’s self-cam show—he was really good.” “...Haha. I’m not that good, but thank you for saying so.” Mm, just as she thought. His reply had that faintly off, half-beat delay. “Then, shall we try it? What about you, Joo Woosung-ssi?” “I’m hopeless with machines. I only use my phone for calls and texts. I’ll just watch him do it.” With the extra shoot confirmed, everyone moved to the editing room. “So, what should we try? These days, idol cross-cuts are trending. How about a Black Call cross-cut? Hey, maknae! Didn’t you say you’ve been practicing cross-cuts lately?” The youngest PD shuffled forward, then stood next to Hoyun, slowly explaining how to operate the program. “You shouldn’t use too many inserts. And with cross-cuts, it’s important to keep the flow natural...” At first, Hoyun’s lips curved faintly upward. But slowly, the smile slipped. Every time the rookie PD asked, “Is this right?” Hoyun tilted his head innocently, like he didn’t know. But behind him, in Ari’s eyes, she saw a vision of herself: babbling, Black Call? I don’t know much... they’re popular, right? Bloy? What’s that? But Chae Jungwoo? Joo Woosung? Solo track “MYTH”? First-week sales? Because of her job, she kept her own fangirl identity hidden carefully. She didn’t want gossip. “Ah, no, before the hard stuff, you should learn to cut cross-scenes first, haha.” Hoyun laughed, but it wasn’t laughter. His eyes didn’t smile. And that sealed Ari’s suspicion. Seo Hoyun was a fan. Thɪs chapter is updated by 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✦𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✦𝓷𝓮𝓽 If she thought of him as someone who got into editing because of idol fandom, suddenly his actions all made sense. His calm attitude could just be his personality, and his uncanny knowledge of the station was still a mystery, but... Her wariness softened at once, and suddenly she felt a surge of human warmth from him. Hoyun listened attentively to the rookie PD’s explanation, then bowed deeply when it ended. “...Thank you for the kind explanation. Then I’ll try it once.” And the moment he sat in the chair, his gaze turned razor-sharp. What was supposed to be a lighthearted, cute bit for YouTube promotion... Clackclackclackclack! As the sounds of mouse and keyboard filled the room, the production staff gasped. “Wow! Wait, what was that? Hoyun-ssi, what did you just do?” Ignoring the chatter, Hoyun blitzed through the task, then blew his bangs off his forehead and replayed the video from the beginning. Standing behind him, Woosung looked on in wonder as he watched his own image reshaped. “Wow, you made Kings look like my solo.” “Hey, hey. Hoyun, you can do this stuff too?” “What the... Wait. Hoyun-ah. Did you actually memorize my choreography?” It had been a Black Call Kings cross-cut—but now it looked entirely like Woosung’s solo performance. While Woosung got misty-eyed again, Ari, off-camera, felt the same rush of awe. Even though fan cams had fallen out of trend, camera work was still often too chaotic or focused only on faces, leaving choreography frustratingly hard to see. As a fan, she had always been annoyed. But this video fixed every flaw cleanly, showcasing everything in its best form. Seo Hoyun-ssi, I don’t know what you stan, but you’re a real fan for sure. This was on par with the best cross-cut YouTubers, the kind that pulled in hundreds of thousands of views. “So, we’re done now, right?” Thinking the bonus shoot was wrapped, Woosung asked the main PD— “Where do you think you’re going.” The voice was cold as steel. Half out of his chair, Woosung froze, staring at Hoyun, who looked grim as he fixed his eyes on the monitor, tweaking clips. A sharp stillness spread across the room. Slowly turning his head, Hoyun masked his face with a charming smile. “Oh dear, I’ve been holding everyone up. My apologies.” Like flower petals scattering, his smile erased the tension in an instant. Still smiling, he tapped Ctrl+S a few times, then stood. “Thank you for the hard work. Today’s shoot was a lot of fun.” “Yes! Hoyun-ssi, Woosung-ssi, great job today~!” Hoyun glanced almost longingly at the computer, then bowed politely to the staff. Woosung quickly added his own farewell before tugging Hoyun’s arm. “Get out of the editing room, now. You’re scary in here.” “...Sharp instincts, huh.” Bickering lightly, the two walked off together. Ari watched them go with fond eyes, staring until they vanished around the corner. Then she turned back to see the staff murmuring over the monitor. “Whose work is this? ...Oh, it’s so clean and refined. Is this Senior Yoo’s?” “Not mine. Could it be that senior’s? I’ll ask later.” But in truth, the storyboard they were gawking at had been whipped together by a so-called second-tier idol sitting quietly in the corner. And that truth began to spread quietly around the station—thanks to the rookie PD of Racing Me, who screamed in shock after replaying the cut, unable to believe what he had just seen.