‘What? A ten-year-old can act that well?’
The man who had looked at Kang Myungwoo with a hint of hostility, Yoon Kyungjin, stared at him with trembling eyes.
The boy who had poured out such deep emotions moments ago was now smiling innocently, his handsome face lit up as he accepted the applause of the audience.
‘I thought people were overhyping him just because of his face…’
But Yoon Kyungjin had seen Kang Myungwoo’s acting before.
<Black and White Mask> was a popular drama, and as an aspiring actor, Yoon Kyungjin had, of course, watched it.
When he saw Myungwoo’s performance back then, his thoughts were—
‘He’s good for a kid, but that’s probably the director’s skill showing. The director is famous, after all…’
The acting wasn’t bad. On screen, Kang Myungwoo’s performance had been impressive enough.
But Yoon knew the truth behind child acting—frequent NGs, constant coaxing from adults, and a set atmosphere adjusted to fit the child’s condition.
He assumed that every great scene must’ve been painstakingly extracted through that process.
And now, this same Kang Myungwoo was said to be from his own academy—one who had only recently begun acting.
‘Tch, exaggeration. How could a kid who just started acting be that good?’
It was clearly image-making—an attempt to label him as a “genius child actor.”
Thinking so, Yoon Kyungjin had looked at the boy entering the top-tier acting class with disdain.
‘Sure, he’s handsome, but that’s it. All child actors are about the same anyway.’
The two friends with him thought the same.
So, during their first practice, they pushed Myungwoo forward.
“Let’s see just how good you really are.”
***
The arrogance of a typical child vanished the moment they saw Kang Myungwoo’s performance.
In its place came shock and admiration.
‘This can’t be real. Am I actually feeling moved by a kid’s acting? The same kid I just mocked?’
And then—an emotion he absolutely didn’t want to admit.
Envy.
‘That kid’s that handsome, acts that well, and already debuted. So why am I…’
And then, despair.
A storm of indescribable emotions swirled within him as Yoon Kyungjin clenched the script in his hands.
The paper crumpled pitifully.
‘How… how could I ever beat someone like that?’
Could I even catch up to him?
Unable to answer, Yoon lowered his head.
And Myungwoo—he watched it all quietly.
He’s… deeper than I thought.
He’d assumed Yoon was just a typical jealous peer—someone whose envy would fade once he saw Myungwoo act.
But now, seeing his reaction…
I don’t know about his acting skills yet, but at least he’s sincere about it.
And then—
Strange. He kind of reminds me of myself.
It was uncanny.
The unremarkable face, the lack of natural talent, the jealousy toward someone gifted—everything mirrored his past self.
Of course, Yoon’s emotions seemed even deeper and heavier than his own had been.
For some reason, Myungwoo couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.
But there was nothing he could do.
If I try to say or do anything right now, it’ll only make things worse.
No words from the one who caused the despair would make it better.
So, the only choice was to do nothing.
Maintaining his polite smile, Kang Myungwoo turned his gaze away.
Though the audience was full of people praising and applauding him, the image burned in his mind was still that of Yoon Kyungjin.
I hope… I get to see him again someday, on set.
In his previous life, Han Minwoo had often thought that way—he wanted to see passionate people succeed.
He didn’t want someone like that to fail.
That’s enough. Those are Han Minwoo’s feelings, not mine.
He shook off the emotion weighing on him.
I’m Kang Myungwoo now. Not Han Minwoo.
He couldn’t afford to lose focus.
He had a clear goal, and getting lost in sentimentality would only slow him down.
With that thought, he quietly clenched his fist beneath his sleeve.
***
A few days passed in the same routine of school and academy.
Then, Kang Myungwoo returned to the filming site of <Alley Childhood Friends>.
“Hello!”
“Oh, Myungwoo! You’re here?”
“Looking forward to today too~”
As always, he arrived early and greeted everyone warmly, earning friendly smiles in return.
Then he spotted an unexpected face.
“Seungha hyung?”
It was Jo Seungha, standing awkwardly in the corner.
He was never around at this hour.
“Uh, hey.”
Seungha waved stiffly, as though wearing clothes that didn’t fit.
Guess that last talk really hit him.
Myungwoo never believed people changed overnight, so he hadn’t expected Seungha to become a new person suddenly.
He had only hoped that he’d act a bit less spoiled and ruin the mood a bit less than before.
Maybe it’s because he’s still a kid… He changed faster than I thought.
Having never influenced another child before, Myungwoo found it strange—but in a good way.
It was impressive that someone once such a troublemaker now arrived early to set.
The staff glanced curiously at Jo Seungha as they passed by.
“What’s this? You’re early today?”
Myungwoo grinned and ran toward him.
Partly because he’d promised Jo Beomgyu to look after him, but also because he was genuinely proud.
“Wow, you’re really early today, hyung.”
“…Just felt like it.”
“Just felt like it?”
At the hesitant answer, Myungwoo blinked.
So he means… because of me?
The thought made him chuckle inwardly.
Apparently, Jo Seungha had taken him as a full-on role model now.
“Haha, that’s great, hyung. Greeting others early is a good habit.”
“I guess…”
Seungha scratched his head awkwardly, clearly still not used to the new him.
Before Myungwoo could say more, a cheerful voice rang out.
“Myungwoo oppa! Hi—huh? What’s he doing here?”
Jung Inha had arrived, all smiles until she saw Seungha.
“Uh… hi.”
“Ah, uh… hi.”
The sight of Jo Seungha greeting first left Jung Inha looking completely confused.
Then she tugged on Myungwoo’s arm and whispered,
“What’s going on? Why’s he acting like that?”
Myungwoo just smiled without answering, which only made her frown deeper.
“Why is he even here?”
The unspoken words were obvious to everyone present.
Seungha scowled. “What? I can’t be here or something?”
“What? No, it’s just weird because you never showed up early before!”
Their voices grew sharper.
Ah, right… these two are like this.
Sighing, Myungwoo pressed a hand to his forehead.
Before the quarrel escalated, he quickly stepped in.
“Hey, stop fighting. Inha, it’s fine.”
“I was just surprised—”
“And Seungha hyung, why are you yelling at her?”
“She was looking at me weird!”
“Did I ever treat you like that when you acted out before?”
Seungha shut his mouth tight.
Taking that moment, Myungwoo nudged Inha gently.
“You apologize first, Inha.”
“What!? Why should I?”
“Come on. You did stare first. If you say sorry, he’ll accept it.”
Jung Inha puffed her cheeks but finally muttered,
“…Sorry for looking at you weird, Jo Seungha.”
Then Myungwoo turned to Seungha expectantly.
Feeling the silent pressure, Jo Seungha sighed.
“Yeah, sorry for yelling… Jung Inha.”
Myungwoo smiled brightly.
“Good. No fighting, okay? We’re on set, remember?”
At that reminder, both froze.
Then they nodded almost simultaneously.
The adults watching nearby sighed in relief.
‘Thank goodness, I thought they were going to fight again.’
‘How does that kid handle them so well? Is he really only ten?’
‘He’s talented and mature. Kang Myungwoo is just… amazing.’
Even though Jo Seungha’s change was surprising, it was overshadowed by his earlier outburst.
In the end, everyone was left admiring Kang Myungwoo even more.
He had unknowingly strengthened his reputation once again—not just as a genius actor, but as a genuinely good kid.
“Alright, everyone ready?”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“…Yeah.”
The director arrived soon after, and preparations wrapped up quickly.
“Today’s scene has all three of our young actors together, right? Think you can handle it, kids?”
“Of course.”
“Yes!”
“…Yeah.”
The director’s eyes widened slightly at Jo Seungha’s calm response but, being a professional, he didn’t dwell on it.
“Alright then. Let’s roll! Scene 24—three kids meeting on the street!”