Two hours later, in Suwon, South Korea.
Inside the KBC drama production center that the Frozen Love team was using as its base camp, the atmosphere was already thick with urgency.
"Set inspection complete!!"
"Lighting is good!!"
"Once the props are sorted, we're done!"
"Filming starts in fifteen minutes, so move!"
Preparation was nearly finished. The area around the set was packed with equipment. Cameras had been installed in front and at multiple angles, and reflectors, lights, and countless cables spread across the floor like veins. In between them, dozens of staff members hurried nonstop, their footsteps never once fading.
Meanwhile, the PD stationed in front of three monitors guided the newly arrived Lee Wolsun to the seat beside him.
"Ah, Writer, please sit here."
Lee Wolsun placed her luxury handbag on her lap and smiled faintly.
"The atmosphere here is nice. I've been here more than a dozen times already, but the air still feels good."
"Haha. Really?"
"Yes. It feels like the novel I wrote has become real."
Murmuring that, Lee Wolsun looked around the set with a small smile.
Quite a few actors had already arrived.
Originally, the shoot scheduled for today was supposed to feature male lead Jeong Janghwan and Kang Woojin, who played the mysterious man next door. But according to the PD, even the actors who were only meant to remain on standby had shown up early.
"Yes, well, it's the first shoot. They probably wanted to see it for themselves. You and I both allowed it, after all."
Lee Wolsun nodded as though she understood. Kang Woojin had come to mind.
"It's the scene that included the ad-lib on script reading day. Of course they'd be curious."
More than that, they had probably been desperate to see Woojin's acting. Reading lines while seated at a table and acting on a real set were two entirely different things.
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At that moment, a woman approached from behind them and greeted them.
"Hello."
When they turned around, they saw the sign language specialist who had attended the script reading. Lee Wolsun stood up to greet her.
"You came. Thank you for coming to our first shoot."
"Not at all. I wanted to come too. Still…"
The specialist's gaze drifted toward Kang Woojin, who was quietly reading his script a little further away. Then she asked carefully,
"He seems much calmer than I expected, doesn't he?"
Lee Wolsun followed her gaze and smiled softly.
"Woojin is always like that. If I had to compare him to a season, he'd be winter."
That was, for the most part, a misunderstanding.
Kang Woojin's heart was anything but calm.
He was burning with excitement.
'If Boy Friend is already done editing, then it should be released soon, right?'
Only a few minutes earlier, Choi Seonggeon had told him that the editing for Boy Friend was complete. It felt like just yesterday that he had nearly died of embarrassment filming the kiss scene, and yet the editing was already done. It was a reasonable amount of time, but to Woojin it somehow felt much faster.
Either way, his heart had started pounding.
'I'm looking forward to it… but I'm nervous too.'
Unlike Profiler Hanryang, Boy Friend was a project in which he was the lead. It was his first time carrying a production aimed not only at Korea, but at overseas viewers as well. On top of that, his name was already drawing attention in Japan. He was tense, but with so many people watching, he maintained an outwardly calm face.
The other actors, who had been watching him, quietly exchanged whispers among themselves.
"He looks incredibly serious. Like he's completely swallowed up by emotion."
"Hmm, really? But isn't Woojin always like that? Well, I've only known him for a day."
"He's been like that ever since he got here. He's probably already immersed in the role. It's a difficult part, after all."
"Acting on a set is definitely different from reading a script, right?"
"He was incredible in Profiler Hanryang. People said it felt like a real serial killer had shown up on set."
"Playing someone with a disability is extremely delicate work. You have to control every gesture and every movement. Let's see how he handles it."
Just then, Kang Woojin received the signal telling him to go in for wardrobe and makeup.
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A little while later, he reappeared, fully prepared.
His appearance had not changed drastically. He wore jeans and a hoodie, simple and unremarkable. His hair was casually mussed, and his makeup was light, just enough to give his face a bit of life.
The most noticeable thing was around his eyes.
There were faint shadows beneath them—not too dark, but enough to suggest something quiet and worn.
Once Woojin was ready, he and Jeong Janghwan gathered at the center of the set with the PD and ran through a simple line rehearsal. Janghwan, in particular, looked immaculate, with neatly cut short hair and a perfectly tailored suit.
"For a first pass, this should be enough, right? We'll just sketch out the rough flow."
After that light spoken rehearsal, both Kang Woojin and Jeong Janghwan nodded.
"Yes, PD-nim."
"Understood."
Smiling, the PD clapped his hands a few times and raised his voice toward the set.
"Alright! Cameras ready!!"
Janghwan and Woojin met each other's eyes.
For some reason, as he looked at him, Kang Woojin nearly smiled.
"Ah, don't worry. I'm not going to ad-lib today. And even if I do, I'll let you know in advance, Woojin."
'Huh? I'm fine either way.'
In truth, Woojin had only been marveling at Janghwan's height.
'I'm jealous. He looks like he's almost two meters tall. If I could borrow even five centimeters…'
Of course, he had a concept to maintain, and there was no room for negotiating over height. So he answered in a low, firm voice.
"Please do your best."
"You too."
About then, the PD sitting in front of the monitors called out.
"Janghwan, Woojin, take your positions!"
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A little later, the cameras settled on a set designed to resemble the hallway of a luxury apartment. Metal doors lined the corridor on both sides of the elevator, and the scene was being filmed from the front, left, and right.
At that moment, neither Kang Woojin nor Jeong Janghwan could be seen.
The reason was simple. They were standing behind the metal doors, waiting to enter on cue. The moment the signal was given, Janghwan would step out first, and Woojin would follow.
Woojin, meanwhile, stood quietly in front of his door.
He drew a long breath.
'Alright.'
Then he woke the mysterious man next door who had been sleeping inside him and brought him out.
It happened in an instant.
By the time he realized it, everything from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers had already been dyed in that man's presence.
His posture changed first.
Then the mood around him.
His lines settled firmly in his mind like words he had recited a thousand times. Sensations and emotions took root in his chest, and a solid world rose before his eyes. Before long, a faint ringing began to spread in his ears.
Everything started with that sound.
A high, sharp tone echoed inside his head, and the noise of the bustling set gradually faded away. At the same time, the background of the filming site, noisy and crowded only a moment before, began to vanish like smoke.
It was too quiet.
This stretch of corridor felt as though it had become an island floating in the middle of endless emptiness.
But it was not pleasant.
A world without sound was nothing but hollow.
At least that was how Kang Woojin—or rather, the mysterious man next door—felt.
It was hollow.
Suffocating.
Despair quietly welled up from somewhere deep in his heart. And yet he endured it without so much as glancing at it.
No, that was not quite right.
More than enduring it, it was closer to deceiving himself by pretending he had grown used to it.
Soon, deep silence and faint fear began to mingle within him. There was despair in the thought that he might have to live like this forever, but beyond that despair there was something even heavier.
The loss of will itself.
Just then, the camera behind him moved into position to capture his profile. It framed him from the upper body up, and his face appeared on one of the monitors.
Lee Wolsun covered her mouth, the tension in her eyes instantly sharpening.
Even before the actual performance began, his face already seemed to contain the entire world of the mysterious man next door.
The sign language specialist and several members of the staff could not hide their surprise either.
"Wow, just look at Woojin's eyes. They're unfocused."
"The detail is incredible. It's like he has an expression and no expression at the same time. How does someone even learn to do that?"
"That took only a few seconds, didn't it? Capturing an emotion like that so quickly is unbelievable."
At that point, Lee Wolsun turned to the sign language specialist beside her and asked,
"What do you think of that expression?"
The specialist, eyes wide, answered softly,
"It doesn't feel alienated at all. It feels real. Even someone like me, who knows nothing about acting, can't help being amazed. How is he doing that?"
Filming had not even properly begun yet, but the PD seated at the monitor let out a faint laugh as he watched Kang Woojin on the screen.
"Ordinary actors avoid roles like this. It's natural to be afraid. But that actor doesn't seem afraid at all. His portrayal is unsettlingly vivid."
Then, with a mixture of awe and gravity in his expression, he slowly lifted the megaphone.
"Cue!!"
In an instant, the set that had been buzzing with whispers fell silent, as though someone had pressed a mute button.
But to Kang Woojin—to the mysterious man next door—it changed nothing.
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Bang.
Jeong Janghwan, now Song Taehyung, opened the metal front door. The camera shifted focus to him. He stepped out rubbing his hands together as if he had just used hand sanitizer.
At the same moment, the metal door to the neighboring apartment clicked open as well. The mysterious man next door slowly revealed himself.
Song Taehyung frowned.
"Tch."
Meanwhile, Woojin noticed him.
Not by sound, but by sight.
A tiny trace of delight touched his pale face. Something new had emerged within the rigid defeat of his daily life, and his face reflected exactly that thought.
He did not dislike Song Taehyung.
His place always smelled nice.
Because Woojin's sense of smell was so sharp, he liked the faint fragrance that drifted out the moment Taehyung opened the door. As the camera pulled back, both Woojin and Janghwan entered the frame together.
The contrast between them was immediately obvious on the monitor.
They were looking at each other, yet communication between them was impossible. Song Taehyung had chosen isolation for himself, while Woojin had been forced into it. Because of that, their understanding, thoughts, perceptions, and ways of seeing the world were completely different.
Just then, Woojin took one step toward Song Taehyung.
Taehyung flinched.
But Woojin, fully absorbed in his own world, only let the faintest smile rest on his lips. To other people it might have looked ambiguous, but to him it was something positive.
He liked Song Taehyung's consistency.
Taehyung left home at the same time every day. Because of that, the two of them could meet without ever speaking, as though they had made a silent promise. Woojin also liked how neat he looked. Taehyung was always tidy and composed, never messy, never loose.
His rigid, expressionless face could easily seem aggressive to others.
But Woojin liked even that.
Song Taehyung treated not just him, but everyone, the same way.
He was consistent.
When people find out about me, they change.
Every person the mysterious man next door had met had changed sooner or later. Whether it came from concern or discomfort, he could never tell, but their treatment of him always shifted. Taehyung did not.
And that was why Woojin admired him.
His fairness did not seem to come from other people, but from within himself.
Woojin's hand twitched slightly.
The camera zoomed in on it, moved along his forearm, and finally reached his face. In that moment, his eyes were full of longing and pain.
The sign language specialist watching the monitor widened her eyes in shock.
"My goodness."
Lee Wolsun reacted at once.
"Yes. I was about to say the same thing."
At that moment, Woojin no longer looked like a normal person at all.
How could anyone fill such a brief role with emotions this deep?
Seeing that expression directly, Song Taehyung—Jeong Janghwan—hesitated for a beat.
Now I understand why the big names are drawn to him. If it looks like this to me, then it must have looked the same to them.
Then came Song Taehyung's meaningful line.
"What exactly are you doing?"
Woojin, who could not hear him, understood through the movement of his lips that he was asking something. Countless old memories rose up inside him all at once, and at the end of them all there was only hesitation.
He wanted to ask him questions.
He wanted to talk to him.
But was that really okay?
He was afraid of change.
He was afraid Taehyung might look at him and recoil.
Could we be friends?
But Song Taehyung, clearly fed up with the mysterious man next door, clicked his tongue and walked off.
"This is getting annoying. I might have to move."
The camera first held Taehyung from the front, then stopped and slowly returned toward Kang Woojin. He remained standing exactly where he was, watching Taehyung's back as it grew more distant.
Even that alone was strange enough.
No, up until now, Woojin's entire performance had been strange in the best possible way.
He had not spoken a single line. Yet through his eyes, his face, and the smallest movements of his body, he had still managed to perform everything. Everyone watching at the monitors and on set must have felt it.
That silent man next door is suspicious.
Just as everyone thought the moment had reached its end, Kang Woojin slowly raised his hand. The muscles in his face loosened. Looking at Taehyung's back, he signed,
I like you.
For him, sign language was conversation.
Soon, the monitor showed a close-up of his face. On the screen, the mysterious man next door wore a faint, slightly relieved smile. By this point, viewers would begin to realize something.
He was not mysterious because he was a suspicious figure.
He was mysterious because he was someone who could not communicate.
The scene relied entirely on emotion, so if it was handled carelessly, it could easily be misunderstood.
But up to this point, Kang Woojin had not made a single mistake.
He was captivating.
And flawless.
The camera captured the entire process, every emotion and every expression. There was not a single spoken line, yet it said more than a hundred words. It delivered something deep and piercing.
The actors watching Kang Woojin from the set each reacted in their own way.
Some were completely captivated.
Others could only stare in inward shock.
'His acting is insane. How does he create eyes like that?'
And among all of them, one conclusion was shared.
This is not the kind of acting a rookie can do.
The eyes of the actors watching him widened even further—not because the performance was loud or forceful, but because they were overwhelmed by how quiet and graceful it was. Kang Woojin's hand moving through the air, his expression in sign language—
Could we be friends?
It was painfully bittersweet.
And unbearably moving.
At that, Lee Wolsun let out a laugh that was almost unconscious.
"He tore the script apart and walked out on it."
A two-day supporting role had overturned the expectations of Lee Wolsun, a star writer with twenty years of experience.
"It's a problem when the standard gets set too high. It would've been better not to watch at all."
She said it lightly.
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At that same moment, in Japan—
While Kang Woojin was overturning the set of Frozen Love, something surprising and slightly bizarre was happening in relation to The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice.
Rumors began spreading through the film industry that the Kashiwa Group had taken an interest in The Stranger's Grim Sacrifice, the film whose production had once been halted.
It was Kashiwa Group.