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“It was exciting to see my clothes on the episode!” She giggles.
Her girlfriend, RALA, is the makeup artist, and together they blow out my hair and affix me with rhinestones.
When the costume designer—a thin man with a shaven head and tortoiseshell glasses—arrives carrying a garment bag, Soobin introduces me. “This is our mermaid, Min Sori.”
His blue eyes—colored lenses, presumably—widen. “Oh, you areperfect.” He hurries forward, unzipping the garment bag. “Your secretary already sent over your measurements. This is what we were thinking.” Inside is a corseted bodysuit intricately beaded with pearls and stones in aquamarine, cobalt, and sapphire blue. The costume is shoulderless, and while it’ll cover my stomach and chest, it won’t cover much else. He also holds up a pair of black shorts. “You’ll wear these underneath, of course.”
He rubs the top of his head. “I know it’s a little much...”
“It’s stunning,” I say. And probably wildly uncomfortable, but I’d endure much in the name of fashion.
I smile at him. He’s clearly a genius. “I’d be honored to wear it.”
“It’s going to fit snug against your chest, is that all right? We’ll also probably have to sew you in. You ate today, right? And drank plenty of water?”
I hesitate, then say, “Yes.” Which isn’t quite the truth. I was too nervous to do much of either, but I’mfeelingfine, fueled by nerves and adrenaline.
I undress behind a screen for privacy, and put on the corset, stepping out with the back untied. I breathe in as he tightens the strings of the corset, and then breathe out, feeling the pressure against my chest.
“Does it hurt?” the designer asks. “I can loosen it if it’s uncomfortable.”
I take several deep breaths. It’s a little tight, which makes me a tad uneasy, but... “I’m fine,” I reassure him.
He gestures me over to a floor-length mirror. “What do you think? We don’t want to show too much cleavage or we’ll get censored.” He laughs, as if he’s joking, but I have a feeling he isn’t. “Your long hair will cover most of it.”
I study my reflection in the mirror, turning around to admire the outfit from all sides. The structured corset is fitted perfectly to my body, clinging to my chest, narrowing at the waist, and flaring slightly at the hips. With Soobin’s makeup and the costume, the effect is stunning. “I love it,” I gush.
An assistant brings me a robe to wear over the costume, then escorts me from the tents to my first filming location, a tidepool that the set designers have accented with fake starfish and jewels. A fog machine billows a white vaporous trail over the pool, giving it a dreamy, mystical atmosphere.
After removing my robe, a different production assistant helps me step into the pool, and I find a spot to sit that isn’ttoouncomfortable. I hope I’m not disturbing some poor crustacean.
“In this scene we want to give off a mysterious, ethereal aura,” the director says from behind the camera. “You’re a beautiful mermaid, caught in a tidepool with a mission to deliver a message from the Sea King to his son, but alas, you cannot speak outside the water! What to do!” I’m caught up in the director’s fervor, nodding along. “Perfect, hold that face exactly.” He films me from different angles, moving the camera along a temporary track. “Now shiver, like you’re cold. You long for warmer waters. If only there was a place you could go.”
It’s a lot like modeling, since I don’t have any lines. I’m grateful to the scriptwriter who found a workaround so I wouldn’t have to speak. Soon the director yells, “Cut!”
“That was perfect, Sori-ssi,” he says. “You’re a natural on camera.”
I step out of the pool, eagerly reaching for the robe, this time for warmth.
On the way back to the tents, there’s a crowd gathered outside Youngmin’s cart. Sun is nowhere in sight, presumably having left to film his scenes with the lead actress.
I approach Hyemi, who’s waiting by the cart, her cheeks flushed. She’s still wearing her school uniform, her character’s name printed on a small metal tag affixed to her blazer. “What’s all the commotion?” I ask.
“Nathaniel was just here,” she says, her eyes bright. “He was taking photos with some of the staff members. I took one with him too. Want to see?”
She holds up her phone. In the picture, Hyemi poses back-to-back with Nathaniel, her hand raised halfway to her face, caught mid-laughter. He must have said something to amuse her. Then my gaze travels to Nathaniel. He’s laughing too, nose scrunched, dimples on full display. I’m arrested by the sight, feeling slightly out of breath, which isn’t conducive to wearing a corset.
I’m just looking at himin a photo, and this is how I feel. How will I feel later tonight when we film our scene together? I need to make sure he doesn’t suspect anything has changed; nothinghas, at least not outwardly. I just need to hide my feelings from him a little longer.I’ve done it for the past two years, what’s two more nights?
Twenty-four
The production crew has commandeered the only bathhouse in the village for our scene. Old tiles line the bathing area in the women’s quarters where three pools sit snug among shower stalls and a tiny kiln sauna. While it’s empty now, I imagine during the day it’s filled with local women, gossiping about their neighbors while bathing.
My mother used to take me to our local bathhouse when I was younger, before she started to really get busy with Joah. We’d scrub each other’s backs before soaking in the pools. She’d buy me sikhye, and I’d lick my lips between every sip of the sweet rice drink, a refreshing coolness after the heated rooms. Then we’d rest in the common area, our heads on block pillows, reading manhwa and giggling at the heroines’ romantic adventures. A rush of warmth envelops me at the memory. Maybe once everything settles down at the company, we can go back there again, just the two of us.
I turn as the doors open, and Nathaniel enters with the rest of the crew. He’s dressed in the pajama-like uniforms customary to bathhouses, a large shirt paired with drawstring shorts. Atop his head is a towel shaped to resemble a sheep’s head. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so nervous.
He immediately spots me, walking over. “Hey.”
