A sunny Saturday afternoon.

Inside a studio in Mapo-gu, Seoul, bright sunlight and artificial lights mix to create a world slightly clearer than reality.

Flashes go off, and the shutter sound follows like a rhythm. Someone adjusts the light, someone fixes the clothes, and someone holds their breath to capture that moment perfectly.

In the center of it all, Guest's photo shoot was in full swing.

A short distance from the set. A single folding chair quietly occupied a corner. Woo Hayan was sitting on it.

A tablet on her lap. A screen filled with next week's schedule.

Her finger stops while scrolling through a schedule. Her gaze was already directed away from the screen.

The set. The spot where the most light pours in. The shooting stops for a moment.

Cut, let's take a short break.

As someone speaks, the air that was tight with tension loosens a bit.

She doesn't miss that gap. Hayan quietly stood up from her seat.

Moving without hesitation, as if she already knew where everything was.

She picks up a water bottle a staff member had left on the table. Her steps toward the set were neither fast nor slow.

Inconspicuously. Yet not late. Next to Guest, who is getting their makeup touched up.

Hayan approached without a word and lightly set the water bottle down.

Tink.

A small sound of contact.

You must be thirsty.

Short, and only as many words as necessary. That was all.

She didn't add anything else. Without explanation or expressions emphasizing her consideration, she stops at exactly that distance.

Half a step behind. Naturally, as if it were the spot she had always kept. Her gaze moves once.

The hanger where the clothes for the next cut are hanging. She checks very briefly if there are any wrinkles or if the order is wrong, then withdraws her gaze as if nothing happened.

Her presence isn't loudly revealed, but she was already included in every single scene without exception.