Chapter 21 : The Role That Wasn’t Mine

“Sorry about this. It’s just how things work in this industry. Don’t take it too hard.” 

I’d come up to Seoul early for the script reading, only to be hit with shocking news.

Is this really how it goes?

Just yesterday, everything seemed fine, and now, out of nowhere, my role had been handed to someone else. 

It felt too easy. 

The offer had come so smoothly, the role assigned without a hitch.

I’d thought becoming an actor was almost too simple—too good to be true.

And, of course, it was. 

“There’s no need for you to feel bad about it, Assistant Director.” 

Disappointment weighed heavy, but as a mere rookie actor, I had no cards to play. 

“The script was fun, and the role was great. I was really looking forward to it, so this stings.” 

Regret lingered like a stubborn shadow.

I couldn’t help it. 

The script was just so good. 

Even for a crime drama, it had a perfect blend of comedy, intricate character relationships, and razor-sharp dialogue that crackled with energy.

No wonder Park Jaehoon had chosen it for his comeback—it reeked of blockbuster potential. 

“Yeah, I hear you. If another good role comes up, I’ll make sure to call you. For now, just hand back the script.” 

Junhyung, the assistant director, held out his hand. 

“Oh, right. Here.” 

I passed over the script I’d been clinging to for the past week.

It felt like giving up a piece of myself. 

“You really pored over this, huh?” 

The script was tattered, worn from a week of constant handling. 

Junhyung sighed inwardly.

He’d delivered this kind of news plenty of times, but this one hit differently. 

He was perfect for it. 

Finding someone who fit the role of Beomwoo so flawlessly had been a coup, and Junhyung had been privately thrilled. 

“Well, I’ll… head out then.” 

“Alright, take care.” 

“Thank you for everything.” 

With a final nod, I grabbed my bag and stood in front of the elevator. 

What a waste. 

It would’ve been the perfect debut project. 

“Let’s just go home.” 

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. 

“Oh!” 

Standing there was the writer I’d met before. 

“Hello!” 

“Writer-nim!” 

I bowed deeply, and Junhyung, spotting her, hurried over. 

“You’re still here,” she said, her tone suggesting she’d heard about my situation. 

“I was just leaving. Thank you for everything.” 

She’d been the first to recognize my potential, so I owed her my gratitude. 

“Why thank me?” 

“Huh?” 

Despite her small frame and kind face, her presence carried an undeniable charisma that pressed down on me.

Junhyung, too, seemed unsettled, his eyes darting nervously. 

“Why are you thanking me?” she repeated. 

I fumbled for an answer, but before I could respond, she plucked the script from Junhyung’s hands. 

“Was the script boring?” 

“No! It was really fun.” 

If nothing else, the script’s quality was undeniable.

I’d signed on not because of the call or Park Jaehoon’s involvement, but purely because the writing was that compelling. 

“What made it fun?” 

“It’s a crime drama, but the tone isn’t heavy. The pacing is fast, and…” 

I launched into the strengths I’d noticed, and as I spoke, her expression brightened. 

“You understand it so well, and you’re just going to walk away?” 

“What? But my role was given to someone else.” 

They’re the ones who cut me, so what’s she getting at? 

“True, that role’s gone. But there’s another one open. What do you say?” 

She held out the script to me again. 

Another role? 

I hesitated for a moment, but there was no reason to waver. 

“If there’s a chance, I’d love to take it.” 

I grabbed the script eagerly. 

“Writer-nim? Did you clear this with the director?” Junhyung asked, clearly thrown. 

“Of course. I’ll leave it to you, then.” 

“Could I ask what role it is?” 

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

And just like that, the script was back in my hands, and I was joining the reading. 

“Hello, I’m Jung Hyunjae, playing Lee Donghyeok.” 

I’d landed the role of Donghyeok, Beomwoo’s friend. 

“Alright, let’s start with the first scene,” Junhyung announced. 

“Beomjun sprints down the hallway.” 

As Junhyung read the stage directions, we dove into our lines. 

“Ugh, stop following me!” 

“You stop, and I’ll stop. Are you gonna keep running?” 

“How’s an old geezer so fast?” 

“It’s ‘cause you’re keeping me young, kid!” 

The veteran actors flowed effortlessly, their performances seamless. 

This is wild. 

I’d never been to a lead actor’s script reading before, and the energy in the room was electrifying. 

It’s just like what I saw online. 

“Hyung! Get up already!” 

“Ugh, I’m tired.” 

The actor who’d taken my original role, Gongjun, read his lines.

And I mean read—flat, lifeless, like he was reciting a grocery list. 

If he’d at least been good, I wouldn’t feel so cheated. 

But no one in the room commented on his performance, so I kept my thoughts to myself. 

“Scene 28, classroom. Donghyeok kicks the back of Beomwoo’s chair.” 

My turn.

I’d waited over an hour for this moment. 

“Hey, you deaf or what?” 

Donghyeok, my character, starts off bickering with Beomwoo but eventually becomes his friend. 

“What?” 

“You don’t have parents, so who handles your parent-teacher meetings?” 

“My brother’s coming.” 

“Oh, right. Your brother’s a prosecutor, huh? Bet he’s loaded.” 

Despite Beomwoo’s curt responses, Donghyeok keeps prodding. 

“He just started, so he’s broke.” 

“Broke? Then…” 

“Hey, quit making noise back there! Donghyeok, you picking on the quiet kid again?” 

“Teacher, I didn’t do anything, and you’re always on my case!” 

I stretched out the words, playing it cheeky but not unlikeable. 

“I’m not just on your case. Prep for the next class. Class rep, collect the assignments.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Hey, Donghyeok, you going to the arcade?” 

“Nah, I’m gonna live long. No smoking for me.” 

Having studied similar characters in school dramas, slipping into Donghyeok felt natural. 

Good thing I paid attention to those other characters. 

“Nice!” 

The director flipped the page, tossing out a casual compliment. 

“Thank you.” 

As I bowed, Gongjun, seated at the table in front of me, glanced back.

Our eyes met, but he quickly turned away without a word. 

What was that? 

After four episodes’ worth of reading, it was late evening. 

“Good work, everyone!” 

“Time for the wrap party!” 

“I’m treating tonight!” 

At Jaehoon’s generous offer, the room erupted in cheers. 

“That’s Park Jaehoon for you!” 

“Awesome!” 

“The location’s in the group chat—head there now.” 

“We need a quick photo of our leads.” 

As I started to leave with the staff, the writer called out to me. 

“Hyunjae, Donghyeok’s a good kid.” 

“I think so too.” 

I’d sensed it.

Donghyeok might seem like a delinquent, but he’s just a teenage boy craving attention.

His teasing of Beomwoo is just a clumsy way of reaching out. 

“If you can make the audience love Donghyeok, that’d be great.” 

“I understand. I’ll do my best.” 

This was my first character, and I’d pour everything into making him shine. 

“You did well for your first time.” 

She patted my shoulder twice before moving to greet another actor. 

She said I did well! 

In this unfamiliar world, having someone cheer for me felt like a lifeline. 

“Donghyeok?” 

I turned at the sound of my character’s name. It was Gongjun, playing Beomwoo. 

“We’ve got a lot of scenes together, so let’s do this.” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

What’s done was done, and we’d be filming together, so I kept the greeting polite. 

“You’re the one who auditioned in my place, right?” 

“Me?” 

Audition?

I only did one.

Then it hit me—he’s the one who missed that audition? 

“Yeah, I got mixed up with another audition that day.” 

“I heard. Good thing you found your spot.” 

Your spot? 

They’d said Beomwoo’s role was still unclaimed. 

“Guess that’s why they say roles find their true owners, huh?” 

I caught his meaning.

He thought I’d tried to steal his role, and now he was back in his “rightful” place.

This was a warning shot. 

Fine, I’ll play. 

A small-time provocateur like him?

I could handle that. 

“You’ve got to earn the role to truly own it.” 

With his wooden delivery, could he even claim it?

Today’s reading already told me this was a game I’d win. 

“Looking forward to the first shoot.” 

His brow twitched, and he turned to walk away. 

“Sunbae-nim!” 

As if nothing had happened, Gongjun flashed a bright smile and ran toward the actress playing the female lead. 

Can’t let my guard down. 

For a moment, I’d forgotten—this industry was a battlefield.

I’d seen the glamour of being close to a top star, but as a “dog,” I’d also witnessed the underbelly others ignored. 

Get it together, Jung Hyunjae. 

Gongjun’s attitude drove home that I’d truly stepped into this world. 

“Come on, let’s move! You too, head to the wrap party. Sunbae, look after our maknae!” 

A staff member spotted me standing alone and called out to an actor nearby. 

“Sure, sure. What’s your name? Hyunjae? Nice name.” 

A middle-aged actor, vaguely familiar from TV, threw an arm around my shoulders. 

“How old’s our maknae?” 

“Twenty.” 

“Ha, not a minor, good! Can you handle a drink?” 

His warm smile put me at ease. 

“Drinking? Uh, no.” 

Kyungho didn’t drink, so I’d never had the chance. Never really wanted to, either. 

“No worries, that’s normal at your age. You’ll learn in time.” 

“Uh… okay.” 

“You know drinking’s something you learn from the adults, right? I’ll teach you proper tonight!” 

Little did I know, I was about to meet the industry’s biggest drinker. 

“Wow, that table’s intense.” 

“If I sat there, I’d be passed out in the bathroom already.” 

“How many bottles are they at? Insane.” 

At the wrap party, whispers swirled around one table. 

“Who’s that new face next to them?” 

And there, in the middle of it all, was me.