Sam smirked, channelling Minjae. “Who put you in charge?”
Zeno turned to face him. For a moment, Sam was stunned. He wrote this very scene. What he had in mind was a genius, passionate doctor who placed people’s lives above anything else. He didn’t put a face on such a character.
However, at that moment, he felt that Zeno had embodied the character he wrote.
Zeno stared at him for a few seconds, suddenly making him feel regretful to have asked the question.
“We’re here as doctors. What do you think is more important? Your pride? Or their lives?” he asked.
Again, he said it so calmly that it was almost eerie.
Minjae clenched his jaw, but before he could answer, Nurse Yewon stepped between them.
“There’s no time for this! We need to start triaging—now!”
Both men fall silent. Then, Baekjin nodded. This time, he made his voice louder, commanding the other actors in the room like they were part of the medical team.
“Red tags for those we can save. Black for those we can’t. If you believe you cannot do it, then don’t bother moving around,” he said, glaring at all of them.
Minseok’s breath hitched. What was this feeling? Why did he feel compelled to follow after him?
With that, Baekjin started wandering around. Even without dialogue, he commanded the scene. His hands moved on instinct—checking pulses, scanning injuries, and tagging patients.
Yewon then knelt beside a little girl with a deep gash in her abdomen.
“Little girl,” she said, trying to arouse her. However, her small body kept still. There were no signs of life.
She pressed two fingers to the child’s neck. “No pulse,” she said. Then, she leaned down. “No breathing.”
At that point, having acted in this scene at least fourteen times, Yura felt tired. It wasn’t so immersive on her part. However, as she felt Zeno’s presence behind her, she froze.
Then, he handed her the black tag.
Yewon hesitated to take it but eventually did. “No… we can’t just give up on her.”
Baekjin crouched down beside her. Yewon turned to the side and found his side profile weirdly charming. Then, he turned to her, meeting her gaze.
At that moment, Yura broke character, and she was unable to say her next line. However, Zeno continued, acting like she didn’t make a mistake.
He grabbed the black tag from her hand and placed it on top of the child before standing back up.
“We have to,” he said, his gaze distant.
Yura felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of her body. Among all the actors, his delivery had hurt her the most.
Then, she felt herself getting immersed into the character once again.
Her eyes burned as she gripped the child’s limp fingers.
She sniffed, her hands shaking as she tried to look for something to do. “There has to be something—”
Baekjin gripped her shoulder.
“The more lives we save… the more we have to let go.”
Tears welled up in Yewon’s eyes, but she nodded. With a deep breath, she finally let go of the child’s hands.
Baekjin stepped forward, his eyes surveying the area where both life and death coincided.
It was time for the last line, and everybody was looking forward to his delivery. Everyone had gone down the tearful route, with Minseok leading the pack.
“We’ve already lost the golden hour of her life,” he said before turning away from the audience.
Yura’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He was showing his back to the camera?
“We had lost the precious window where we could’ve saved her, where hope was still within reach. If we hesitate now, we’ll lose more. For them, the golden hour is a moment. But for us, it’s a choice.”
“It’s a race against time,” he said, his voice softening just a little.
As he prepared to deliver the very last sentence, it became apparent why he decided to show his back to the audience—it was because he didn’t want everybody to see his weaknesses.
“But as long as there’s a second left of that golden hour, we fight. Because once it’s gone, we can never get it back.”
And with that, he started walking away.
For a moment, his white polo felt like it was a real doctor’s coat.
“I could see it,” Luli muttered, feeling like she was on the disaster site herself.
Yura felt a stray tear fall from her cheek and onto the teddy bear. She snapped back to reality, looking around to see if anybody had seen it.
Then, she sighed in relief when it appeared they were all immersed in the scene.
Zeno felt that it was unusually quiet, so he turned around, only to be met with their surprised expressions.
“End scene,” he said because Yura failed to mention it.
Yura stood from the floor and cleared her throat, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.
“That’s my line,” she muttered.
“Do you have any comments for me?” Zeno asked amidst the silence.
Sam opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
For the first time out of all the acts, Sam and Yura were speechless.
Sam narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the seemingly ordinary man before him. Then, he cleared his throat.
“So, you’re an ordinary guy who has no background in acting?” he asked.
Zeno nodded. “Pretty much.”
“Hmm,” Sam hummed, placing his index finger under his chin. “Interesting.”
Now, he could see why Man-shik PD had talked about him in such a way.
