“I’m Lee Changho, playing the role of Lee Songhun.”
“Hello, I’m playing the role of Kim Ram…”
Suhyeon carefully observed the fellow actors he met for the first time today.
Only five main and supporting actors, besides him, had significant lines.
These included the protagonist’s parents, the aunt who abandoned the protagonist, the CEO who recognized the protagonist’s talent and led him into the music industry, and the protagonist’s friend from the orphanage.
Normally, even minor actors would come to the script reading…
The final reading typically involved all the supporting and minor actors.
For the sake of overall emotional harmony, not only the main characters but also the performances of the surrounding characters were important.
However, today’s reading broke that tradition.
There were only about ten actors sitting in the first row.
Even supporting actors did not attend unless their roles had a significant impact on the movie.
Hmm. I think I understand why.
Suhyeon glanced away from the script and looked where the director’s gaze was directed.
A woman was trembling with her head bowed.
“Lim Seora, is that the best you can do? I didn’t expect much from an orphanage teacher.”
“I’m sorry…”
“If apologies could solve everything, life would be easy. Didn’t I tell you last month to pay attention to your vocalization because your voice was too cold?”
“You did, but…”
“How many lines do you have that you’re acting like that? I thought you were working for free. But if that’s the kind of free work you’re giving us, I don’t need it. And Mr. Choi Chunsik, didn’t I ask you to manage your facial expressions as if you were shooting today? Does being a bit older make you see the director as beneath you?”
“Erm. That’s…”
Eulhong’s sharp tongue was as relentless as ever today.
She meticulously checked the actors’ lines and criticized without mercy if the image or emotion was off.
Thanks to her habit of pointing out mistakes after each scene, the emotional flow wasn’t ruined, but the actors were gradually getting exhausted.
Her temper is seriously nasty. She doesn’t care about age or status…
Even the so-called “prestigious supporting actors”—the much older seasoned actors—only received the courtesy of Eulhong using formal speech with them.
But since what she said was right for the sake of perfection, the actors’ moods gradually polarized.
They either grew more aggressive and channeled their hostility toward the director or completely lost their confidence.
Since only a very few actors escaped her criticism, the atmosphere in the meeting room was precariously tense.
Even in such an atmosphere, the national actor, the box office hit maker, is truly consistent as ever, whether it was 20 years ago or now… But, if he got 20 years younger, why does he look the same? I thought he was a babyface, but he was just aging slowly?
As the scene transitioned to a conversation among the supporting actors, Suhyeon glanced at one of the “few actors” who hadn’t been criticized, Lee Changho.
The top ticket power representing Chungmuro.
The man who came to mind first when you thought of a movie star.
An actor who exuded a particularly unique and intense presence in an industry filled with handsome actors…
He probably didn’t shoot dramas, right? He was an even bigger star than Seohan-hyung… But didn’t he always play leading roles?
After delivering his lines in a lively, chattering voice, Suhyeon looked at Changho again.
Despite his slightly chubby figure, his sharp eyes gave him a sharp impression, but with a kind smile, that aura completely disappeared.
Even in this tense atmosphere, being sharp like that is kind of cool…
He was one of the few actors who seemed detached from the tense atmosphere.
Eulhong didn’t criticize Changho, and Changho didn’t point out Eulhong’s sharp attitude.
They seemed indifferent to each other, but amidst the frosty air, their rapport was the best.
“Let’s take a 10-minute break.”
About an hour had passed.
As the actors’ energy was depleted, Eulhong declared a break.
As the staff moved first, the stiff conference room livened up.
“Ugh, her personality is really bad.”
“It’s just the spirit of a rookie. She picks on trivial things just to establish discipline. Such a petty way.”
As the director disappeared, the actors, who had been holding back, began whispering complaints about her.
Although it didn’t look good to criticize her behind her back, Suhyeon turned a blind eye.
It wasn’t worth intervening, and it was common in the industry to vent about someone quietly so they wouldn’t hear it.
We got heavily criticized for an hour, and it will continue later…
It was better to vent and then focus on practice again for everyone’s sake.
Perhaps Eulhong leaving immediately was also a form of consideration.
No way… Is there a human side to her…
As Suhyeon pondered whether the director possessed any humanity, a small shadow approached him.
“Hi!”
“Oh, hey. Hello…?”
“You’re Kang Suhyeon, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Nam Hyeondo. We couldn’t say hello earlier because we started right away. I look forward to working with you.”
Hyeondo extended his hand with a confident smile.
Playing the role of “Lee Donggil,” a friend of the protagonist “Park Jiseok,” he was two years older than Suhyeon.
He was also a head taller due to his age, and although he bit his lip at Eulhong’s sharp words, he didn’t cry, showing he was quite mentally resilient for a child actor.
“Hi. Hyung, I look forward to working with you.”
Suhyeon carefully examined Hyeondo’s face.
It seemed somewhat familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before.
Maybe it was because his image was common among child actors, but it felt like déjà vu.
Nam Hyeondo? Nam Hyeondo? It’s not a familiar name, but it feels strange…
After pondering for a while, Suhyeon soon dismissed his curiosity.
If he couldn’t remember immediately, it meant the person wasn’t important, whether in the future or now.
There was no harm in becoming friends, but Suhyeon was too busy to focus on Hyeondo at that moment.
I’ve met a rare actor. I’m curious why someone who only took leading roles suddenly accepted this part.
“Hyung, I need to go to the restroom urgently. Sorry.”
“Huh? No, it’s okay. We’re sitting next to each other anyway. We can talk later.”
“Okay!”
Nodding vigorously at Hyeondo’s words, Suhyeon left the conference room.
He discreetly asked Sangil about the location of the smoking area and headed to where Changho was, pretending to be lost.
“Oh? Isn’t he the youngest lead actor? How did you get here? Did you come alone? Where’s your mom?”
Changho, who was enjoying a cigarette with fellow smokers, noticed Suhyeon stuck to the door and approached him.
There was no separate smoking room, so the gazes of those gathered outside all turned to Suhyeon.
“I was with the manager-hyung, but I went to the bathroom and got lost!”
“…Do people normally get lost and end up at the back door? Well, whatever. That manager is useless, leaving a kid alone.”
“Oh, no! I just wanted to go on an adventure, so I slipped away…”
“Aigo. You’re a little rascal, aren’t you? Kids are all like that at your age. Well, since we’re almost done smoking, let’s wait a bit and go together.”
At Suhyeon’s innocent excuse, Changho chuckled and ruffled his hair.
Other actors, finding Suhyeon cute as he shook his head with bright eyes, also laughed.
“Ah, but seriously, the director has a terrible temper.”
“Well, that happens. For a female director to survive in this industry, she has to be tough. Just let it be.”
“There’s a limit to being tough. She’s really a bitc… hmph, anyway.”
“Still, being meticulous is better. That director has a good eye. She even pointed out your bad habits. Just take the feedback.”
“I know, but it still feels bad… Well, if hyung says so, I guess I have to follow.”
Suhyeon listened intently to the conversation between Changho and the other actors.
Unexpectedly, Changho had a positive evaluation of Eulhong.
He acknowledged her bad temper but mentioned the context that should be considered, soothing the junior actors.
Eventually, those who were badmouthing the director calmed down after the senior actor’s remarks.
Oh, I heard he had a good personality, but he really is well-respected.
Changho was known among some fans as the “big hyung of actors.”
Though he had talent, he often worked with struggling rookie directors and listened to the concerns of junior actors.
He helped in crucial moments that might seem trivial but were essential to someone.
Though some misunderstood him because of his rough appearance and blunt speech, those who knew Changho trusted and followed him.
“Hyung, I have a question.”
“Hmm? What is it… You’re Suhyeon, right?”
“Yes! I’m Kang Suhyeon! I’m six years old!”
“Yeah, yeah. Smart kid. No wonder you became the main character.”
“Yes! I watched a movie with you in it, and my mom said you only play leading roles. So why are you doing this?”
Suhyeon, with his miraculous way of skipping parts of sentences, looked at Changho with bright eyes.
Since explaining everything in detail wasn’t childlike, he skipped it boldly, and his innocent face made up for his blunt question.
“Wow, you’re cute. Are all kids these days this cute? Ah, right. Leading roles. Hmm, this time, it’s closer to a supporting role… The last time I played a supporting role was when I debuted, so it’s been almost 10 years.”
Changho stroked his chin and started speaking.
The other actors around, curious about his response, watched quietly without interrupting.
“Director Kim Eulhong is a bit unique, or should I say distinctive…… Her debut film showed a different perspective compared to other directors. Maybe because she used be into music.”
“Did you take the role because you wanted to work with her?”
“I thought I wouldn’t be able to work with her, but this role seemed to fit, so I accepted it.”
He had passed on roles before because he didn’t like the way the characters were portrayed, but he said he liked the feeling of the role of “Songhun.”
As if he had nothing more to explain, Changho smiled and ruffled Suhyeon’s hair.
The faint smell of cigarettes on his hand tickled Suhyeon’s nose.
“Now that we’re done smoking, let’s go back. It’s going to end late today.”
“Yes.”
Suhyeon quickly followed the actors who were disappearing in a crowd.
On the way back, he met Sangil, who waved him back to the waiting room.
“Alright, let’s go again. Connect it from the last scene.”
As Eulhong, who was already seated in the center of the meeting room, urged the actors, those who had relaxed faces now focused on their scripts with serious expressions.
Thanks to the break, their faces seemed livelier.
* * *
“I… I hate you, auntie.”
“…Hyeono.”
“Why did you abandon me? Why did you hate being with me, Mom, and Dad?”
“Yeah. I hated it. I hated how my sister’s body was ruined because of you, and I hated how her career was ruined raising you.”
“How can you say that to a child?”
“What else should I say if I hate it! My sister should be the best violinist, but you ruined her path!”
“Park Jiseok’s” aunt abandoned him out of a twisted affection for her sister, “Jiseok’s” mother.
She believed that the protagonist was blocking her sister’s path and thus got rid of the child.
She thought that if the child disappeared, her sister’s life would return to its original course.
Upon learning the reason he was abandoned, the protagonist tearfully confronted her.
No matter how cheerful one’s personality was, it didn’t mean they were without scars.
When the root cause of being separated from his parents was revealed, “Jiseok” vented the anger he had held inside.
It was a scene showing that there was sadness behind the protagonist’s smile.
“Good. Do it like this in the actual take. Next scene.”
As soon as they finished their lines, Eulhong smoothly moved on to the next scene.
The actors looked at the child protagonist, Suhyeon, who was precariously perched on the edge of the table.
Even though they had done well in the beginning, maintaining that tension until the end was a different story.
Those who thought he just happened to succeed by chance now looked at Suhyeon seriously, acknowledging his skills as an “actor.”
I definitely made a strong impression… but my stamina is lacking.’
He glanced at his watch.
They had started rehearsing at 9 AM, and it was now nearly 2 PM.
They had been practicing the 120-minute script for five hours already.
There were too many corrections. Even though we had a lunch break, this is really…
Suhyeon drank some water and checked the time again.
The remaining script had noticeably thinned, but it seemed like it would still take another hour.
“Good work.”
And indeed, an hour later, Suhyeon, exhausted from the six-hour marathon, collapsed.
