The lingering aftertaste of the performance wouldn’t fade, and Kim Hye-mi kept her lips tightly shut, remaining silent for a moment.
The director sitting beside her seemed to be in the same mood.
Kim Hye-mi looked at Jeon Yeo-hu. Park Min-tae Director’s words, which she’d barely registered earlier, suddenly floated back to her.
“If you just watch the acting, you’ll know exactly who I’m talking about. He’s a real genius. After you see him, you’ll feel sort of empty inside. Makes you wonder, is this what talent is?”
‘I get what he means.’
This was a feeling that arose because she wasn’t an actor like him, but someone in a position to select people in this industry.
An overwhelming presence.
Overwhelming talent.
The ambivalence you feel when you come face to face with an overwhelming genius.
That intense sense of anticipation at working with such an actor, and the inexplicable emptiness that follows.
Jeon Yeo-hu was an actor who made you feel both at once.
“It’s over.”
After finishing his acting, Jeon Yeo-hu bowed politely and gazed quietly at the director, the producer, and the writer.
After Jeon Yeo-hu’s performance, a barrage of questions followed.
“Have you acted much before?”
“I’ve only been on stage in university clubs or classes.”
“Where did you mostly practice?”
“All the roles I played were minor parts, so I’d always practice at home alone, then work with other classmates on timing and blocking.”
“Was there a particular reason you started acting?”
“No real reason… I just liked acting.”
That was the first glimmer of emotion to show as he answered with an otherwise blank expression.
“You must really love acting. It’s rare to see someone your age act this well.”
“Thank you.”
Kim Hye-mi also chimed in with a question.
“Let me ask one thing. In the script I gave you, Cha Hae-jun isn’t supposed to smile, but you added that yourself? Was it intentional, or did it just happen in the moment?”
“Um…”
For the first time, Jeon Yeo-hu didn’t answer within three seconds.
Nearly thirty seconds passed as he thought it over.
Impatient, Kim Hye-mi asked first.
“Did I ask something too difficult?”
They said he was unusual.
Is this what they meant?
Jeon Yeo-hu shook his head. A stray lock of hair, sticking out like an antenna, swayed as he moved.
He spoke.
“No, I just needed to collect my thoughts. The foundation for why I held back tears is that I thought, ‘If it’s Cha Hae-jun from the script written by Kim Hye-mi-nim, this is what he would do.’”
“Excuse me? My script?”
Jeon Yeo-hu nodded.
“The main keywords for the protagonists in the dramas written by Kim Hye-mi-nim are change and love.”
“That’s usually the case.”
“In this work, I thought Cha Hae-jun was the character who embodied those keywords. Someone clumsy at expressing emotion, someone who says he’s fine but really isn’t.”
Even for minor characters, if the writer puts love into them, that affection inevitably shows.
So Kim Hye-mi wanted to find an actor perfectly suited for Cha Hae-jun, which is why she attended the audition.
“Cha Hae-jun is someone who couldn’t express sadness even when he was sad. So the first time he tries to show emotion, for sure—”
“……”
“For sure, he wouldn’t know what expression to make himself. In that case, he’d wear the expression most familiar to him—the one he always wore.”
Yes, just like I did in my previous life.
Kim Hye-mi muttered softly.
“So that’s why you smiled…?”
“Yes. But if it were Yoon Sung, he wouldn’t have cried.”
Good grief.
Kim Hye-mi was thrilled, confused, and elated.
Never before, when she’d asked for the reason behind an acting choice, had her own name been mentioned.
While she was speechless at Jeon Yeo-hu’s answer, the silent director sitting next to her also spoke up.
“So, if this project weren’t written by Kim Hye-mi, you might not have cried or smiled at all?”
“Yes.”
As he mulled over Jeon Yeo-hu’s answer, one corner of the director’s mouth curled up in a strange way.
‘What a peculiar guy…’
In fact, the director had already heard a few stories about this actor from Park Min-tae.
Cha Agency was a subsidiary of Norang Studio, and since the results of both the first and second auditions affected the outcome, such things were possible.
Park Min-tae recommended both Jung Yun-woo and Jeon Yeo-hu, but for Jeon Yeo-hu he’d added,
“Once you talk to him, you’ll really get how peculiar he is. I know you don’t like actors you can’t control, but once you see him act, you’ll think: I have to be the first to show this actor off to the world.”
He wasn’t wrong.
After seeing Jeon Yeo-hu act, it was impossible to imagine any other actor in this role.
Honestly, he even wanted to offer Jeon Yeo-hu a more important role.
But if he did that, he couldn’t think of anyone else to put in this one.
And usually, in this kind of situation, he’d describe it as,
‘…The actor ate the role.’
*****
On the way home.
I bumped into Writer Kim Hye-mi by chance at the subway station.
I bowed my head in greeting, and Kim Hye-mi immediately rushed over.
“Are you heading home, Actor?”
“Yes.”
“Looks like we’re headed in the same direction.”
Kim Hye-mi smiled as she asked me a few questions, most of them about acting.
“So, Jeon Yeo-hu-ssi, when you act, you’re not the type to become the character in spirit, right?”
“Yes. Isn’t that the case for most people?”
“For most people?”
I replied.
“If you play a murderer, you can’t actually kill someone, nor can you completely understand a murderer’s feelings. I just imagine what that person would do in that situation and act out the one that fits best.”
If I can’t become them, I pull from the most similar experience I have and try to understand that way.
What kind of life this person lived, what they might have thought at that moment.
“What about emotions? You have to feel something, don’t you?”
“I think those are my own emotions. Emotions I feel on behalf of the character.”
“My goodness. Yeo-hu, be honest. You’ve already debuted before, haven’t you? Why do you answer like a veteran?”
Maybe because she’s a writer, she’s great at small talk.
“Yes. I’ve actually debuted before.”
“Really?!”
“I debuted in middle school, in a theater club.”
“Oh, come on. Still, you really have loved acting for a long time. I love that kind of passion. If you can debut doing what you love, that’s true happiness.”
“……”
The happiness that Kim Hye-mi talked about was far from my reality.
Honestly, I didn’t really know what happiness was.
Was I happy because I achieved my dream? Not really.
If I couldn’t act, I wasn’t happy—so I had to act.
I’ve never lived a life without acting.
If the life where all I did was act, and gave up everything for acting, was a mistake—then why, after coming back, do I still want to act?
Maybe this is truly my only chance in life to give up acting…
‘But could I really give up acting?’
I know my own talent.
If a handsome face counts as talent, then that’s one too. I’m considered pretty good at acting.
My personality is nasty, and I don’t like getting along with others.
I could curse every time I open my mouth, but I hold back for the sake of my public image.
In fact, I sometimes still think my old self wasn’t wrong.
A terrible human. The best actor.
So shouldn’t I just live the same way as before?
……
If, as [System] says, I make the same choices in this life and live a life full of regrets all over again?
“Jeon Yeo-hu-ssi?”
“You wanted to write, right?”
“Me? Yes. I guess you could say I achieved my dream.”
“Then are you happy?”
At my question, Kim Hye-mi laughed.
“I’m trying my best!”
That wasn’t the answer I expected.
“……Is that so.”
“And you can be happy too, Yeo-hu! You’re so good at acting.”
The sound of the subway arriving came, and Kim Hye-mi stepped forward, turning her head.
I looked at Kim Hye-mi reflected in the screen door.
I didn’t think I could ask her, looking her in the eye.
“Writer.”
“Yes?”
“Do you think I could become a good actor?”
Just then, the subway arrived and the doors opened.
Without a second’s hesitation, Kim Hye-mi beamed and answered.
“Yes. The Yeo-hu I saw is that kind of actor.”
Is that so.
Is that how I look?
“But, Yeo-hu, you don’t se—…”
Chik.
“…Ah.”
I missed the subway.
Kim Hye-mi, watching me miss the train with a dumbfounded look, grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
*****
Meanwhile, aboard the subway, Kim Hye-mi glanced back at the receding Jeon Yeo-hu and couldn’t help but chuckle.
She’d thought he was mature for his age, but seeing him miss the subway and make such a silly face, he looked just like any student his age.
‘But if he loved acting so much that he joined theater clubs since middle school and even got into acting school… then why did he make that kind of face?’
Even though he did well in the audition, he looked expressionless, and he seemed to be agonizing over happiness.
Standing there on the train, Kim Hye-mi thought for a long time and came to one conclusion.
Right, that must be it.
‘…He’s just too good-natured!!!’
Because the kid is too nice, he’s always comparing himself to others and lacks confidence, living a life where he just boosts up those around him.
‘Goodness. That’s why he’s lost himself living like that.’
That must be why he couldn’t be greedy for roles, why he never thought to try out for auditions so easily…
That day, Kim Hye-mi clenched her fists tightly and made up her mind.
She would do her best to help this kind rookie on set!
‘A newcomer to society—this sunbae will take good care of you!’
*****
The acceptance text arrived.
I expected to pass, but actually getting in felt strange.
Right then, Jung Yun-woo also contacted me.
[Did you get the message?]
Seeing that I got the part, Yun-woo must not have.
Should I reply right away?
Should I just ignore it? In the end, I replied.
[Yeah, I got it.]
[Then give me your home address.]
[Why]
Is he planning to kill me and steal my role?
Not a bad option, but if he goes to prison for murder, he won’t be able to act.
[Hurry up.]
[Whoa there (link)]
Pressed by Yun-woo’s insistence, I finally sent my home address.
It hadn’t even been an hour since I sent the message when that guy showed up at my place.
He brought toilet paper as a housewarming gift.
The distance is just awkwardly close enough that maybe he even ran over, since he was catching his breath.
Yun-woo grabbed my shoulders and shook me as soon as he arrived.
“You really got in, right? Hey, for real?”
“Uh… Is it something to get this excited about?”
“If only you got in, would I be this happy?”
Ah.
After saying that, Yun-woo grinned and shoved his phone in my face.
He, too, had received an acceptance message from Norang Studio.
The role was different, though.
I took his phone and read the message, and while I was reading, Yun-woo took off his varsity jacket and hung it on the rack.
“This is the first time I’ve seen this character.”
“I auditioned for it that day. The director asked if I wanted to try a different part than Cha Hae-jun. This one has a bigger role and seemed to suit me better, so I gave it my all.”
“That’s great.”
Even if the part is different, Yun-woo is Yun-woo.
He didn’t get the role he wanted, yet he’s genuinely celebrating the success of a friend who beat him out for it.
If I were Yun-woo, I could never cheer on or encourage someone else this sincerely.
‘What a unique guy.’
Yun-woo washed his hands quickly and then dove onto my bed, flopping over and asking,
“Got any plans today?”
“Nope.”
“Perfect. Let’s go out!”
“Why…?”
“We both passed! Let’s at least go get something to eat!”
*****
Walking the streets of Hongdae with just Jung Yun-woo was something I’d never even imagined.
Yun-woo kept nudging my side, saying that being with me meant getting even more stares than usual.
No surprise.
Only after my regression did I start paying attention to my hair and realize that my mid-twenties face, unmarred by hardship, was absurdly good-looking.
Gotta admit what’s true.
“Uh, hey.”
As we rounded a corner, someone called out to us. Turning, I saw a woman who looked to be in her early twenties.
“I’m really sorry, but do you have a girlfriend? I swear I’m not weird or anything. You’re just exactly my type…”
“……”
“Jeon Yeo-hu? What are you doing? She’s asking you.”
“What? No, she’s asking you. Our coats are the same color, she must’ve gotten confused.”
There’s a reason I have a good opinion of myself and yet still think like this.
Even though I’m this good-looking, before I regressed, people rarely asked me for my number.
Almost never, actually.
Unless it was about religion.
People tried to convert me all the time.
They’d talk about dark energy, or that I was attuned to demons, things like that.
It all happened when I was twenty-five—nothing was going well, and I had so many worries. They all said it was the fault of my ancestors or demons.
Now I can laugh it off, but back then I almost believed them.
With that much debt, it was only natural to think someone had cursed my past life.
“Anyway, it’s not me, it’s you…”
I pushed Yun-woo forward, but the woman quickly waved her hands.
“Ah, no! Your friend’s right!”
Really?
“Then my number?”
“Yes… Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I don’t, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now.”
I put on an awkward expression and politely declined, and the woman left with a compliment about my looks.
Yun-woo laughed nastily, throwing his arm over my shoulder.
“Jeon Yeo-hu, do you have a girlfriend? If not, give me your number~. Oh, right, I already have your number.”
“Haa. You only got lucky because you’re with me.”
Yun-woo poked my chest with his finger, taunting me.
“What are you talking about? Anyone can see she was talking to you.”
“People don’t ask for my number.”
“What? Why not? You’re handsome.”
“Who knows.”
“Oh, so you don’t deny you’re good-looking.”
“…? Why bother denying something I’ve heard my whole life?”
“Right, hey. What’s the point of getting a girlfriend when you’re going to be a celebrity anyway? Oh, there it is.”
Yun-woo led me to a famous hellfire chicken restaurant in Hongdae.
I’d only ever seen this place on blogs—their spicy chicken and salt-grilled chicken were famous.
We ordered a grilled set and a bottle of Soju. The spicy one was so hot, it felt like my mouth was on fire the moment I took a bite.
Tears streamed down my face.
Yun-woo giggled and took a bunch of photos of my face, but my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t stop him.
I usually handle spicy tteokbokki just fine, but this was on another level.
How is Yun-woo eating this so calmly?
“Ah, seriously, you’re hilarious. Why didn’t you do any extracurriculars at school if you’re this funny?”
“Haa, what do you mean.”
“Your lips look like a steel scrubber. You could clean a sink with those.”
“Haa, haa.”
Yun-woo laughed and tossed some salt chicken onto my plate instead.
Guess I looked that pitiful.
“To be honest, you never really participated in extracurriculars. You’d only talk during group projects or theater club activities, and even then only when you had to rehearse. You never talked personally, so people felt awkward around you.”
Wow.
Yun-woo suddenly dropped some real talk.
The Yun-woo in my pre-regression memories and the one now felt like two different people.
Final year in acting, president of the theater club.
He was still president in his fourth year because everyone trusted and followed him completely.
He was good-looking, had acting skills, and was transparent with club finances and regularly took student feedback.
It was no wonder people trusted Yun-woo.
I’d never known he was this much of a jokester or this cheerful until now.
‘Maybe it was better not knowing.’
“Acting isn’t something you do alone. Sure, you’re good enough to go solo, so I can’t say much, but isn’t it better to do well together?”
Together.
“So. What do you think now?”
“About what?”
“You’re really sure about being an actor? Not just hesitating like before, but really, truly decided?”
Actor.
For me, that’s not a job I can mention lightly or take lightly.
If I choose it, I might die.
But even if it kills me, I want to act.
That way, I won’t have regrets on the day I die.
‘And if I can save you, maybe I won’t go to hell after all.’
I tapped my glass against the soju in front of Yun-woo and said,
“Yeah. Let’s do it together, actor.”
Yun-woo’s mouth curled up.
“Knew it!! Good decision, Jeon Yeo-hu. Let’s go! Let’s find our luck! The luck of a national actor!”
“…Yeah. Sit down, you’re embarrassing.”
Maybe I shouldn’t save him after all?