Chapter 9: Eyes Over Words

Im Hoon was in shock.

‘How can someone become a different person with just their eyes, without a single line? And erase all emotion in an instant?’

“Cut!”

Director Kim Ha-sin clapped his hands and shouted at him.

“Hoon-ah! Snap out of it!”

“…Sorry.”

Im Hoon bowed his head, clenching his jaw.

He knew she’d be good. But his assumption that her acting would be similar to what he saw in The Life of a Prosecutor shattered completely.

‘How could her acting improve so much in such a short time?’

He steeled himself. She was just a rising rookie. Her acting might outshine his, but he had more experience.

Act naturally, he told himself. Im Hoon pushed his bangs back, exhaling slowly.

‘…I’m Jung Jae-wook. Just flow into it naturally.’

Muttering like a mantra, he glanced at her. But she was engrossed in her script, paying him no attention.

This was a first. Didn’t people usually check if everything’s okay after an NG?

Feeling irked and about to say something, Director Kim approached.

“Hoon-ah, any issues?”

“…No, none.”

Im Hoon nodded, agreeing to continue as the director instructed.

“Let’s keep going!”

As the director and staff returned to their positions, Im Hoon lay on the rooftop, tilting his head slightly to watch Im Bada.

Leaning against the railing, she pulled a cigarette from her pocket, tucking it between her index and middle fingers, glancing at him as if lost in thought.

“This mine?”

Breaking the silence, she waved the cigarette toward Im Hoon.

His expression screamed, What do you want me to do about it?

“So?”

“What do you mean? I’m telling a thief it’s mine.”

Im Bada smirked, her eyes cold and mocking.

“I’m different from you.”

The aura he’d felt from her before the shoot now hit differently, a negative vibe piercing his chest.

“I…!”

Feeling accused like an actual thief, Im Hoon shouted impulsively, but her eyes sparkled with playful mischief.

“….!”

He was supposed to deliver his next line, but her mischievous gaze froze him.

It would’ve been an NG in a real shoot.

“Jae-wook-ah, why so mad? You called me a thief’s daughter too, didn’t you?”

She turned the moment into gold with her ad-lib.

“Cut!”

Even after Director Kim’s cut, Im Hoon couldn’t rein in his emotions, breathing heavily. Despite the staff’s murmurs, he was still dazed.

“Hoon-ah, here.”

Gulping down water from his manager, the cold liquid finally snapped him back. He blinked, slapping his cheeks to refocus.

Director Kim approached, patting his shoulder.

“…Hoon-ah, your acting’s oddly good today?”

“Huh?”

“You practiced a lot, huh?”

“Not really.”

“…Well, true.”

No matter how much he practiced, his acting hadn’t improved. Even with an acting coach from his agency.

But something was strange. Just having her as a scene partner elevated his acting? Im Hoon’s gaze shifted to Im Bada.

As she tucked the prop cigarette back into its pack, she reverted from Park Hae-in to Im Bada.

‘How can she do that?’

Unable to solve the puzzle, he asked her, “What did you do?”

“…?”

Im Hoon didn’t even realize he’d dropped formalities or asked something odd. His mind was consumed by her portrayal of Park Hae-in.

★★★

What did I do? I furrowed my brow, clueless. Informal speech? A weird question? I asked back, “What do you mean?”

Im Hoon, unbothered by my informal reply, answered, “No… you acted like you were pulling me in, dragging me along.”

“Pulling… you in?”

“Yeah! You sucked me in!”

The question was absurd, but I rolled my eyes, mulling over his words.

Then it clicked. Sometimes, acting with someone better unknowingly boosts your own performance.

It seemed Im Hoon was experiencing that for the first time.

But that’s something he’d have to realize himself. I didn’t need to explain.

“I guess I acted well.”

“What!? That’s not…!”

Im Hoon started to retort but stopped, looking at me. He shut his mouth, turned his head, pursed his lips, and mumbled.

“Fine…”

“What? I can’t hear you.”

“…Okay.”

“What are you even saying…”

With his eyes squeezed shut, Im Hoon shouted, “Fine, we’re the same age, aren’t we?”

“Yeah… sure, same age.”

“We might run into each other! Speak informally. Informally!”

I nearly teared up at his graciousness.

“I’m saying I acknowledge your acting!”

His shout was so loud, the crew turned to us. I laughed, waving it off as nothing.

“I acknowledge it. Acknowledge it. Happy now?”

“…Yeah, I heard you.”

“Damn, so embarrassing.”

His ears turned bright red from embarrassment.

“But why are you sneakily going informal?”

“I-I don’t know! You did too, so we’re even! So, you’re not gonna tell me?”

Is Im Hoon’s family motto persistence? Or is he just clueless? As I opened my mouth to respond, Noen interrupted.

“Can I act now?”

Noen, script in hand, declared he was ready. Im Hoon, looking reluctant, returned to his spot. Director Kim gestured for Noen to take Park Hae-in’s position and beckoned me.

“Bada-ya, sit here.”

“Okay.”

Sitting beside Director Kim, I checked the monitor.

I instantly understood why Noen was chosen. Noticing me watching, Director Kim asked, “What do you think, Im Bada-ssi?”

“Seeing him on the monitor, he has a stable image.”

“Right? His acting skills were criticized, but that’s why he passed the audition.”

‘Noen and Im Hoon’s visuals do match well.’

It wasn’t just me and the director thinking that. As the shoot began, whispers spread.

“Noen’s doing better than during the read-through?”

“…Pretty good, no?”

“The faces…”

As someone who’d eaten plenty of cold rice on drama sets, I knew the odds were in his favor.

Hadn’t I rolled around sets for years? Already, people who looked like Noen’s agency reps were hovering around the Youth 2015 crew.

“Why… why’re you mad? You, you called me a thief’s kid too, didn’t you?”

Noen, who’d been reciting lines mechanically earlier, now stumbled over them. His speech faltered, his eye contact was a mess, and he reeked of being a first-time actor.

In contrast, Im Hoon carried the scene calmly, and I narrowed my eyes.

In my past life, Im Hoon was branded a bad actor. But watching him now, he was performing decently.

Maybe in my past life, his jealousy consumed him.

Noen, though…

He’s too busy struggling with his own acting.

I’d rather bring in Ko Eun-hyuk, who was awful at the Youth 2015 audition.

“…Cut!”

At Director Kim Ha-sin’s cut, Noen sighed in relief, while Im Hoon let out a long, uneasy breath.

Noen, tended to by his manager, glared at me.

What? He’s the one who acted poorly, so why’s he glaring at me?

“Shall we vote?”

Director Kim stood up and collected the staff’s votes.

★★★

Two weeks later, at the neighborhood park set for the final episode of The Life of a Prosecutor. I got out of the taxi and bowed to the crew.

“…Our Im Bada actress!”

Spotting me, Cheon Ian strode over with his long legs, grabbing my shoulders.

“I heard about you.”

“…Oh, yeah.”

After the Youth 2015 shoot, word spread in the industry about the incident with Noen and my rejection. Rumors flew like wildfire.

I won the vote. But that was it.

– Im Bada’s acting is great, but can it match Noen’s star power?

– It’s a minor role anyway. Let’s use Noen, okay?

Suddenly, the production company insisted on using Noen, and since their opinion carried as much as the director’s, I had no choice but to step back quietly.

That day, Director Kim called.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this twice…”

Feeling bad for him, all I could say was that it was fine.

I consoled myself that I’d left a good impression on the director and others, keeping quiet. It wasn’t exactly good news, so everyone stayed hush-hush.

But silence breeds rumors. At some point, word got out that my acting was far better, but Noen got the role due to his agency’s clout.

“Tch, that’s why I said to join our agency.”

“I’d be afraid people would think I got in under your influence, Sunbae-nim…”

“Under my influence?”

Should I say the rest?

“And I don’t want rumors about us dating either.”

“……”

“Hmm?” Cheon Ian turned, his shoulders shaking. Shoulder dance? No, it wasn’t that.

“Oh.”

“Are you laughing?”

“Ahem, cough. Laughing? Not at all.”

Cheon Ian turned back with a casual expression, patting my shoulder.

“You think people would assume we’re dating me?”

“Who knows? In this industry.”

“You sound like a seasoned industry vet.”

I flinched but didn’t respond, pulling my script from my bag. “Stop teasing me. About this part…”

“No way.”

“What?”

“There’s still time. Aren’t you going to ask how I’ve been?”

Is that the issue? A clingy ghost upset I didn’t ask about him? Mustering my social graces, I asked, “Uh… how’ve you been you, Sunbae-nim?”

“The Life of a Proxy broke 20%, so I was thrilled.”

“Congrats on 20%, Sunbae-nim!”

“And I’ve been a bit worn out.”

“Worn out? From all the congratulatory calls? Or… something legal?”

Unsure how to respond, Cheon continued, “So many fans wanted to see my junior, Im Bada.”

“Me?” I pointed to myself with my rolled-up script.

“Nobody’s contacted you out of the blue or checked in?”

Not a single call.

“Hmm? Our junior has no friends?”

Cheon Ian stabbed me in the heart. I’d spent my days working part-time jobs, no time for friends. The one friend I had, Hae-jin, probably cut ties on his own.

“Pretty much none.”

“You’ve lived a boring life.”

“I have lived boringly…”

To a third party, it’d look that way. Like a caged parrot, mimicking lines and practicing acting endlessly…

“It’s fine. You can make friends now, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“But don’t get close to low-quality celebrities.”

Why’s he giving dad-like advice? I thought our age gap wasn’t that big—six years at most?

“You sound like a dad.”

“…What?! A dad at my age? Imagining it feels kinda creepy.”

“You’re not an actual dad.”

Ignoring Cheon Ian’s dad-fantasy ramblings like raindrops, I reviewed my script.

This scene was simple.

A grown Lee Geom-il meets Jo Arin again. Jo Arin, who lost her voice after her sister’s death, speaks.

[Jo Arin: (stammering) “Prosecutor Lee Geom-il, it’s been a while.”]

[Lee Geom-il: “…Jo Arin?”]

The camera closes in on them, wrapping up The Life of a Prosecutor. It feels like it’s setting up a season 2.

“…Will there really be a season 2?”

“Season 2? Not sure if it’ll happen. Korean audiences aren’t kind to season 2s.”

No season 2 is ever as good as season 1. Plus, some viewers might dislike Jo Arin in season 2.

They’d want Lee Geom-il’s solo world, not Jo Arin stepping in and growing.

Negative opinions would be inevitable.

As I tried to focus on the script again, Cheon Ian spoke.

“…Hey, what’s up?”

“Search.”

“What’s going on?”

As the crew’s murmurs grew louder, Cheon Ian asked a nearby manager.

“Well…”

Instead of answering, the manager showed their phone screen.

“Oh…”

“Ooh, got what he deserved.”

As Cheon Ian said, an article about Noen’s school bullying scandal had surfaced.