Chapter 8: At the Threshold of the Audition

After all the filming was completed and until the day of the Audition arrived.

Taeha did his utmost over the week, analyzing and memorizing the Script.

During , the previous Taeha had already researched and practiced enough, so he could make use of his ability to immerse himself in the role and act. But this time, he was bound from the start by his own limits.

“It was quite a struggle, wasn’t it?”

Script Analysis and character research as an actor were on a completely different level from doing them as a Writer.

As a Writer, when looking at the Script, he studied each Scene, each Sequence, the Plot Structure of each episode, and the overall flow across the entire series.

He also focused on capturing the traits of every character, coming up with scene ideas, and paying attention to lines.

“If that’s like looking at the whole forest….”

As an actor, there was something more important than seeing the forest as a whole.

It was immersing yourself in just one character.

“You have to become a single tree that has taken root in the work.”

For that reason, it was necessary to imagine even the small branches and annual rings of the tree not described in the Script, to delve into, twist, and absorb the character.

And then, he had to figure out how to express all that through acting.

“How should I handle the expressions, what about the breathing… This is really an area I’ve never tried before.”

In this part, the memories of the previous Taeha and the Script Note he left were quite helpful.

As he went through it, he came to a realization—sometimes an actor understands a character better than the Writer who created them, and

they might even come up with better ad-libbed lines.

“I’m fully prepared.”

Yet, he still felt nervous for no reason.

He had often sat on the audition judging panel as a Writer, but this was his first time participating as a contestant.

Perhaps because he was so familiar with the subtle tension and stiffness of an audition room, he felt even more nervous.

It didn’t help that he really wanted to be a part of this project.

“The more I read the Script, the more I like it.”

As a Writer, whenever he saw a brilliant Script, he simply admired it and felt inspired, but as an actor, he actually had the opportunity to join the work.

“I have to seize this chance.”

If he got to work together, he wanted to ask Writer Kim Jeong-sik how he came up with such a project and what his working process was.

“Ah, is that too much of a Writer’s mindset?”

In any case, despite his nerves, Taeha tried to stay focused and looked out the car window.

The car, driven by Im Chan-hyung, was headed to the Production Company Office hosting the audition today.

***

Taeha and Im Chan-hyung arrived at the Production Company Office in Hapjeong, following the guidance sign to the large conference room.

After a short while, the scene that unfolded before their eyes was of several actors waiting.

Im Chan-hyung, just as nervous in his role as Manager, glanced over Taeha’s competitors.

“Huh?”

Taeha let out a brief exclamation.

“What is it?”

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

Taeha shook his head and thought to himself.

What the—there’s a familiar face here.

Han Woo-ri.

She was the actress Taeha had directly Auditioned during .

“She still looks so young.”

She must be in her late twenties by now, yet she still looked young enough to be mistaken for Taeha’s peer.

She was born with a baby face and maintained it well.

The problem was, even back during the Audition, Han Woo-ri was already a fourth-year actress.

“So now she’s in her fifth year.”

Yet, seeing her at this kind of rookie-level Audition again, it was clear she still hadn’t secured a solid position.

“Even then, she’d had many bit parts in various works, but never landed a significant Supporting Role.”

But she never wanted to give up acting, so she worked part-time jobs to keep pursuing her dream—that story stuck in his memory.

“She’s an unfortunate case.”

A gentle face, often called a ‘dobusan’ (meaning mild-faced), and a gentle personality to match.

Her looks and character were nothing lacking for earning likability as an actress, and her facial acting was quite decent too.

Because her features were so soft, she had limits when trying to portray charismatic, intense expressions, but she was fairly good at expressing ordinary emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure.

Her acting showed the results of her long efforts.

“She was one of the actresses I always hoped could get a break.”

However, in the end, Han Woo-ri also failed the Supporting Role Audition for .

The decisive reason was that she was just too bad at delivering lines.

“Some things can’t be overcome with effort alone, I guess.”

Her line delivery and projection always sounded too much like ‘acting.’

That’s why it came across as awkward.

“I wonder if she’s improved. I hope she’s changed even a little in the past year.”

Thinking such things, Taeha followed Im Chan-hyung and sat at the seat guided by the company staff.

By chance, the only available seat left was right next to Han Woo-ri.

He glanced sideways, and their eyes met.

Han Woo-ri gave an awkward smile and bowed silently.

“She really is a good kid.”

Taeha smiled back in greeting.

Honestly, though he’d locked eyes with several other actors in the hallway, Han Woo-ri was the only one who actually acknowledged him with a greeting.

Just by looking at the attire, hair, and makeup, it was clear everyone here was an actor coming for the Audition.

Maybe it was because they were all competitors, but even if Taeha made eye contact and greeted them first, everyone else ignored him.

“Kids like Han Woo-ri should succeed, but it’s always the rude ones who get ahead. Ha, that’s what’s wrong with this industry.”

Lost in thought, Taeha suddenly realized something.

“Ah, with Han Woo-ri’s weakness in line delivery, this role is actually perfect for her.”

The Apprentice Priest had a language impairment, so there wasn’t a single line to speak.

On top of that, she fit the physical description in the Script notes very well.

Taeha realized there was a reason Han Woo-ri came for this Audition.

“…Wait? Does that mean I should be nervous?”

He did hope things worked out for Han Woo-ri, but that didn’t mean he was willing to give up the role.

Taeha wanted to be part of this project just as much.

“We all have to do our best, that’s all.”

Smacking his lips with an odd sense of regret, the conference room door opened, and just as the previous actor left, the staff called Han Woo-ri’s name.

“Actress Han Woo-ri, please come in.”

Han Woo-ri took a deep breath and stood up from her seat.

She seemed visibly nervous.

“You’ll do fine. I’m sure you’ll do great,” Taeha encouraged her quietly.

For a moment, Han Woo-ri looked at Im Chan-hyung in surprise, wondering if Taeha was overstepping, but as a more experienced senior, he wanted to offer at least a word of encouragement.

“Ah, thank you.”

Though Taeha looked much younger than her, when he offered encouragement, Han Woo-ri smiled and replied, thawing out for a moment.

After Han Woo-ri entered the audition room, Im Chan-hyung muttered in a half-serious tone.

“You have to do even better.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You even turned down Director Lee Hae-ik’s Audition suggestion for this, didn’t you?”

Turning down Director Lee Hae-ik’s offer still seemed to weigh on his mind.

Taeha calmed Im Chan-hyung with ease.

“I know.”

“But has the Director been decided?”

“Probably. Judging by the way the audition is proceeding.”

In the early stages of drama production, there’s no set order for deciding the director, Lead Role casting, or programming.

In the case of this project , after the Script was written, the male lead and Broadcast Station were chosen first.

“At that time, Sojeong said the Writer and Broadcast Station had talked a lot with the Director they wanted, but he hadn’t given a definite answer, so they were worried.”

There’s no way they’d proceed with casting Supporting Roles without a Director, so it was certain the Director had been finalized now.

“It’s also my first time coming to an Audition without knowing who the Director is.”

Because the decision was so late, you had to ask the Production PD directly to find out who the Director was, but Im Chan-hyung didn’t want to seem like he was prying, so he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be a good Director anyway.”

Taeha replied nonchalantly.

That’s why Taeha hadn’t been thinking much about who the Director would be.

Maybe that’s why Im Chan-hyung asked,

“How can you be so sure?”

“Think about it—if the Production Company and Broadcast Company waited this long, that says everything.”

“That’s true.”

Im Chan-hyung nodded in agreement, and meanwhile, Taeha reviewed the Script one last time, memorizing it as if carving it into his mind.

The makeshift Script prepared for casting was already getting worn out from his hands.

After quite some time,

Finally, Han Woo-ri came out into the hallway.

Catching Taeha’s eye once more, Han Woo-ri’s face looked bright with satisfaction.

“She must have done well.”

He was relieved at his hunch, and resolved to do even better himself.

“Kang Taeha, please come in.”

Summoned by the staff, Taeha entered the audition room, and at that exact moment—

“What the, maybe I should’ve just said yes?”

Taeha suddenly regretted having turned down Director Lee Hae-ik’s offer.

The reason was simple: sitting together with the Production PD and Writer Kim Jeong-sik was Director Lee Hae-ik himself.

“Hello, I’m Kang Taeha.”

“So, it turns out you rejected my offer to audition for this project instead, Kang Taeha?”

At Taeha’s greeting, Director Lee Hae-ik immediately shot back.

His tone was much stiffer than usual.

“…Yes.”

Taeha was taken aback.

Back when he turned down the offer, Director Lee seemed disappointed but not offended.

It really couldn’t be helped.

But now, seeing Taeha show up for an Audition after refusing his offer, Director Lee must’ve felt some type of way.

“What do I do now? I thought it would be a good thing if it was Director Lee, but maybe I didn’t think this through enough?”

For a moment, Taeha felt nervous, but quickly responded honestly.

In situations like this, any kind of excuse was meaningless.

He’d learned that from dealing with so many people.

“I’m sorry. It’s not that I wasn’t interested in working with you, Director… but I’d already read this Script. I just really wanted to be part of this project.”

Director Lee Hae-ik’s face grew even sterner, but Kim Jeong-sik seemed to smile a little.

It was something to be proud of as a Writer.

“Director, stop teasing and lighten up, will you?”

At Kim Jeong-sik’s words, Taeha looked confused,

And Director Lee let out a hiss like air escaping a balloon, saying,

“I was going to give you a hard time, but now you’ve left me with nothing to say.”

“Sorry?”

Kim Jeong-sik explained,

“You were surprised, right? Actually, Director Lee had a rookie actor he really wanted to cast, but due to scheduling issues, he couldn’t audition him, so he asked for an extra audition.”

“Because of me…? Thank you so much, Director.”

Taeha quickly bowed to Director Lee Hae-ik.

“I went to all that trouble, and then Kang Taeha shows up on the list. It felt kind of empty. I just wanted to make you squirm a little.”

Ah, if that’s the case, you can give me a harder time if you want.

With Taeha’s cheeky response, everyone at the table laughed lightly.

In the friendly atmosphere, the Production PD spoke.

“Then, could you show us the assigned performance first? Act 1, Scene 40.”

“Yes.”

As Taeha replied, Kim Jeong-sik picked up his thick-rimmed glasses and added,

“I’m looking forward to it. The Production PD recommended you, and so did the Director. I’m curious to see what kind of acting Kang Taeha will show us. You look great, just as they said…”

If seen outside, one might have mistaken him for a veteran department head, but beneath his glasses, Kim Jeong-sik’s eyes glinted sharply.

In the end, as long as Kim Jeong-sik liked him, things would be in his favor.

“But don’t let your guard down until the end. This is the first performance I’ve prepared from scratch. Alright, focus.”

As Taeha felt his fingertips grow warm, he began his prepared performance.

A performance with not a single line, only actions described in the Script.

***

After the Audition ended.

Coming out into the hallway, Taeha couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s it.”

It wasn’t arrogance, but anyone who saw the reactions of the Director, Writer, and staff could be certain—they were that obvious.

Up to that moment, Taeha truly believed so.