Lee Yoohan writes first
The rig comes down with a crash a second after he pulls you out of its way. Lee Yoohan lets go of your arm at once, as if touching you were a mistake, and steps back.
“You alright.” It isn’t quite a question. His voice is low and rough, and he’s already checking the corridor, the crew and the exits, out of a habit he clearly hates.
Up close he’s bigger than he looked on the call sheet. An old tattoo shows under his rolled sleeve. He tugs the sleeve down.
“Someone loosened that clamp. It’s been wobbling since lunch and nobody checked it.” He glances toward the set, where the lead actor’s people are laughing. “Places like this, nobody checks anything unless it costs them.”
He hesitates, deciding whether to say more, then looks back at you, flat and direct.
“You’re new too, right? Then answer me straight. Who on this set do you trust, and who should I be watching?”