Disappointing.
Disappointment.
Disappointed.
‘…She’s right. I was careless. I should’ve practiced, like sunbae-nim said.’
Modern dramas and historical dramas differ starkly in vocalization and tone. I came unprepared, so of course Tae Jin-hwa sunbae-nim called it disappointing.
At least I’m realizing it now.
I could’ve just memorized lines without practicing acting. I nearly exposed my lack of depth. Good thing I caught it.
I placed my hands on my stomach, bowing politely. “Thank you, sunbae-nim.”
No response. I glanced up. Her stern expression softened, and laughter flowed like a beautiful melody.
Following the warm mood, I asked, “How do I practice for historical dramas?”
To fulfill the sub-quest: Learn acting from Tae Jin-hwa.
“Historical dramas?”
“Yes, I want to learn from you.”
“You learn with your eyes and ears.”
True. Acting requires open eyes and ears.
“The most important word in historical dramas is ‘Jeonha.’”
“Jeonha?”
“It’s critical. Shout ‘Jeonha’ with all you’ve got.”
As an extra palace maid, I’d shouted it dozens of times.
‘Easy.’
I lowered my voice to the floor, clear and flowing like a stream. “Jeonha…”
“Jeonha?”
“….”
Her eyes widened, surprised. “You nailed the tone.”
The challenge was what followed. Could I maintain pronunciation and tone?
“But… I’d love to act with you, Bada.”
“……”
“No can do. No time.”
A bombshell. She checked her phone.
“Why no time?”
“Cheon Ian’s coming soon.”
With Cheon Ian, one-on-one lessons were out the window.
“Why’s he coming? Isn’t he busy?”
“I mentioned mille-feuille nabe, and he said it sounded delicious.”
“Does he have no schedule?”
“Dunno. Just Banggooseok Yeopo lately, so probably bored.”
No escaping it.
“Cheon Ian learned historical drama acting from me. You’d benefit from him.”
As I considered giving up her lesson to help, she stopped me. “Don’t come.”
“Why?”
“No need to help.”
I circled her, eyes sparkling, pulling out my most pitiful puppy look.
“That face won’t work.”
“Sunbae-nim…”
“You’re a guest. I’ll handle it.”
My acting wasn’t enough to melt her heart yet.
‘Need more practice.’
“Instead…”
She tapped her phone and showed me a video: Atonement: Scent of a Woman, her starring drama.
Why this?
“Bada-ya, historical dramas are about imitation.”
“Imitation?”
“Vocalization and tone matter, but so does imitation. Kings, nobles, servants—each class moves differently.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Historical roles were limited, so I didn’t consider it.
“Modern dramas are easy to imitate—you see people around you. Historical dramas aren’t. Get it?”
“Yes.”
Hard to mimic reality in historical dramas. Now I understood the video.
“Sightlines and behavior differ from modern dramas. Your role’s a noble lady, right?”
“Yes.”
“What’s needed for a noble lady’s demeanor?”
Simple. “Less cumbersome movements for a noble lady.”
“And?”
In YoungYoung, Yeonwoo’s kind and gentle. Episode 1’s script often called her refined and elegant.
“I need to know my character’s personality.”
“Right. Behavior varies by personality.”
Then I’d imitate a noble lady like Yeonwoo. I’d only played maids or servants, but frequent maid roles let me observe noble ladies’ subtle actions.
I could weave those observations into my acting.
“Here’s homework. Before Cheon Ian arrives, mimic me in this video.”
Homework, but…
“How do I mimic you?”
“What, my video’s not enough?”
“No… it’s plenty. I didn’t mean that.”
“You can do it. Atonement’s character is like yours.”
She’d played a similar character in Atonement. Perfect for imitation.
“When I read YoungYoung’s first episode, it reminded me of Atonement. My first historical drama as a kid.”
“……”
“I hope you do well.”
Do well…
Warm words from someone I admire fuel anyone’s drive. And her joyful expression while advising me pushed me further.
“I’ll work hard and show you my best.”
“Good. I’ll cook dinner, so study. Here’s the script.”
She pulled episode 1 from a living room bookshelf. Flipping through, I saw “Tough” written in a margin.
‘…She’s human too.’
“The video starts at scene 10, so memorize from there.”
“Can I interpret it differently?”
“Sure, do what you want.”
“Yes!”
As she headed to the kitchen, I clenched my fists, veins popping.
‘Let’s do this.’
The video was 10 minutes. Her lines were average—not too many, not too few.
Until she finished dinner…
‘…One hour.’
Tight for memorizing, but I had time travel.
‘Let’s start.’
★★★
Tae Jin-hwa, cooking mille-feuille nabe, glanced fondly at Im Bada analyzing Atonement.
‘She’s skilled for a rookie.’
Her approach to acting was impressive. Some rookies she’d met relied on looks or agencies, disrupting sets.
That bred her aversion to rookies.
She stopped joining dramas with them.
But Im Bada broke that bias.
At first, just a cute rookie on TV. Her charm matched Tae Jin-hwa’s taste, drawing her eye.
Beyond that, meeting Bada rekindled her初心.
How do you love acting?
Bada’s passion for it always stunned her.
“Bada-ya.”
“Yes? Starting now?”
Her bright voice and blinking eyes prompted a wave of dismissal.
“Got a question.”
“For me?”
“Yup.”
“Ask anything.”
Anything? Wiping wet hands, she asked, “Why do you love acting?”
“…Acting?”
“Yeah. I ask rookies this a lot. Sounded old-fashioned?”
“No, not at all.”
What would she say? Usually, answers were bland and predictable.
“It’s a tough question.”
“Hard?”
“My agency told me to say I was inspired by sunbaes’ acting.”
“Typical answer?”
“Super typical.”
Bada’s lips curled into a radiant smile.
Tae Jin-hwa mirrored it.
“But what can I do?”
“…..”
“I just love acting. Beyond words.”
That answer made her hope Bada would love acting forever.
“Don’t you love acting, sunbae-nim?”
“……”
“I love your acting.”
Will people love me? Or dismiss me as typical? Saying that would dampen the mood.
“If you love it, that’s enough.”
Then Bada stood from her chair, script in hand.
“Seriously!”
“What?”
“I love your acting. No one does it like you.”
“C’mon, don’t lie.”
Thinking it was fan bias, she brushed it off, focusing on cooking.
“How could I lie after watching you? I grew up on your acting.”
‘She’s got a knack for startling people.’
“So, how’s my acting to you?”
A question she hadn’t even asked close junior Cheon Ian.
Bada pondered deeply, then spoke. “You’re an actor who’s great at self-objectification.”
“Self-objectification?”
“…I’m not sure, but I think it every time I see you act.”
As she mulled what that meant—
“I really want to see your acting. Right in front of me!”
“……”
A roundabout way of saying she wants to do a drama together.
‘This kid.’
She tugs at your heart without knowing. But…
‘Self-objectified actor.’
I get it. It means I handle fitting roles well.
In your early 40s, views on actresses shift. Labels like “ajumma” or “has-been” stick.
I got typecast, with fewer diverse roles.
Even when I took good roles, reactions were…
– Isn’t she too old for that? lol
– Ajumma as lead? Can’t immerse.
It bred doubt. Should I accept “mother” roles as viewers say?
Words are easy; actions are hard.
‘…Time for courage.’
Courage to try a new “mother” role. With Im Bada, it might be okay.
She’d be fine. Somehow.
‘Let’s try.’
Cooking quietly, waiting for Cheon Ian, a car parked outside.
“I’m here~!”
His voice boomed, schedule-free and lively. Tae Jin-hwa wiped her hands on a towel and opened the door.
“Noona!”
“Quiet.”
“Why?”
“Bada’s studying.”
“Stuuudying?”
“Shush.”
“Got it. Quiet it is.”
Muffling his steps, Cheon Ian entered the kitchen, washing his hands.
“Noona, need help?”
“Almost done.”
“Done?”
“Yup.”
With nothing to do, his eyes turned to Bada.
“What’s she doing?”
“Acting practice.”
“For what?”
“She didn’t practice historical dramas, so I told her to.”
“Oh. But are you really not doing the drama?”
After years of only special appearances, he had to ask.
“Thinking about it.”
At that, Bada dropped her phone.
“You were listening?”
Not doing the homework I assigned.