Chapter 4: Is this your first time acting?

“Huh!”

The silence was broken by Junho’s reflexive gasp. He covered his mouth and watched his friend. It was unfamiliar. So unfamiliar that it gave him goosebumps.

“Should I continue?”

Usually, it ended with one gesture, so Muyoung paused and asked. Then Ohseok leaned forward to the monitor and answered.

“Keep going. Don’t stop and show me everything you want to show.”

The tone had become more comfortable by now, but no one noticed. Muyoung was focused on his own performance, and the rest were amazed by his acting.

‘He definitely said it was his first time, right?’

Ohseok had started acting since he was a university freshman. He had met and worked with countless talented actors, but this was a first.

How could a beginner express such emotional depth?

Ohseok was so engrossed in the screen that his nose was almost touching it.

“If possible, show anger in addition to love.”

Muyoung nodded silently and turned his gaze to Bora. Bora, who had volunteered with a light heart, felt defeated.

‘Oh no.’

She felt overwhelmed by her opponent.

It was just acting, something she had done countless times… But when she looked into Muyoung’s eyes, she felt like she was really his lover.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Keep going.”

Muyoung whispered quietly. As soon as Bora said she was okay, he became immersed again. This time, he lightly touched her earlobe and then slid his index finger down to her chin.

‘Crazy bastard. Fucking crazy bastard.’

Junho watched the scene anxiously through the gap between his fingers covering his eyes. It felt like intruding on their private space, and he couldn’t even breathe.

‘He called me a womanizer and all that, but he’s worse.’

Muyoung continued to express love with just his fingers.

He placed his hand under her chin, exuding provocative sensuality.

He touched her eyebrows, portraying a mature lover.

He tickled under her nose, depicting a playful first love.

“I’ll stop here with the love.”

Muyoung paused to change the subject.

As he caught his breath, he saw the stunned people around him. Unlike when he first stood in front of the camera, everyone was frozen.

‘What’s wrong?’

Especially Junho’s reaction. His friend looked as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have. But the students were the same.

‘What’s this? I thought this was a test?’

‘I thought he said it was his first time acting.’

‘If he’s a senior in high school, he’s the same age as me?’

‘Wow. Fucking hell. That’s talent.’

‘I wonder where he applied for the Department of Theater and Film. He’s definitely going to be at the top.’

And so on. They, too, were experiencing shock in their own ways, just like Junho. The director asked in a slightly excited voice,

“When you’re angry, try saying some lines too.”

“Lines?”

No matter how he thought about it, he wasn’t a beginner, so he was planning to check his pronunciation and breathing. Muyoung pulled out a desk chair and greeted Bora.

“You can come in now. Thank you.”

Bora sat down with her lips tightly closed.

She felt a sense of heat.

Along with the affection she had felt as a lover, she experienced a sense of inferiority for the first time. She naturally bowed her head and hid her expression.

“But I don’t know any lines.”

“TV dramas are fine, and so are catchphrases.”

“Hmm.”

Muyoung thought for a moment and then recalled a morning drama. It was a makjang drama that had gained popularity with the kimchi slap followed by the modern-day Heungbu-Nolbu ladle slap.

“Ha ha! Ha ha ha-!”

To be honest, he hadn’t watched the drama, so he was just planning to imitate the clips that were circulating. Muyoung focused to recall his memory.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve lived as a parasite my whole life, but you’re amazing. A ladle? Ha ha!”

Then, as he uttered the lines, a question suddenly arose.

What’s the difference between impersonation and acting?

“Alright. Let’s give it a try.”

Thanks to the word ‘ladle,’ people realized which drama Muyoung was acting in. The famous original video played in everyone’s minds.

‘How is he going to do it?’

When acting in an existing work, it usually falls into two categories: adding to it or being consumed by its color.

“I’m going to kill you all.”

Muyoung wiped his cheek with his right hand to remove a rice particle. Then he clenched his fist tightly and crushed it. Up to this point, it was the same.

“I’m going to kill you-!”

But he went further, using his fingernails to scratch the desk. The sticky and insulting rice particle was crushed, and the pathetic character’s atmosphere was perfectly captured.

“I’m done.”

It’s over. When Muyoung said that, everyone exhaled the breath they had been holding. Silent glances were exchanged.

‘He’s definitely a beginner.’

Ohseok felt the same.

Only then did he straighten his back and shift his gaze from the monitor to the real Muyoung.

“I didn’t know the lines afterward.”

His pronunciation and breathing were definitely those of an amateur.

‘No. Strictly speaking, this can’t be considered completely raw either.’

His delivery of lines was also very good for a first-timer, but it seemed less impressive compared to the emotional expressiveness he had already demonstrated, which was on a different level.

“Muyoung. Is this really your first time acting?”

“Yes. But…”

Ohseok twisted his short chin beard and fell into thought. The atmosphere was restless. The students couldn’t hold back and spoke up.

“Wow. You’re really amazing.”

“Where did you apply for the Department of Theater and Film?”

“You said you’ve never performed before?”

Everyone seemed disbelieving, with a mix of surprise and jealousy. Muyoung nodded blankly.

“……I said it was my first time.”

The director organized the camera equipment and spoke to the students.

“Alright. Everyone, watch your own videos and think about what needs improvement. Then submit it to me, and we’ll film again. This time, we’ll do both love and anger, so practice. Muyoung, wait a moment.”

As Ohseok pushed Muyoung forward, Junho quickly grabbed his bag and stood up.

Thud-

The door closed, but the chaos in the practice room didn’t subside easily. Yuchan clicked his tongue and fiddled with his laptop.

“He’s crazy, really.”

“I know. He’s a born talent. Born to be.”

Just once. Even though they had only watched him for a few minutes, everyone instinctively knew. Muyoung was born to act.

“Bora.”

Yuchan called out to Bora, who was sitting quietly. She was trying hard to hide it, but something felt off.

In the long term, it was a sense of relative deprivation. In the short term, it was a feeling of disappointment.

“Are you okay?”

“……What’s there to not be okay about?”

Bora looked like her soul had been drained. That was understandable, as she had started acting since she was a child.

But as time passed, her achievements and growth slowed, and the path of acting became increasingly difficult.

‘The difference in talent.’

It felt like she was running as hard as she could, and then Usain Bolt suddenly passed her by with ease. Bora let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Hey. What was that you did earlier?”

“What do you mean? It was acting.”

“Why were you messing with your face like that?”

“Because we’re lovers. No, because we’re acting as lovers.”

Whisper whisper. The two friends bickered endlessly. Then, when Ohseok sat on the sofa, Muyoung hesitated and called out to him.

“Uh, Director.”

He had no intention of attending, so further consultation would be a nuisance. Muyoung smiled and made up an excuse, planning to leave.

“Thank you for the consultation, but I have an appointment, so-”

“Oh? Yeah, we’re late.”

“I’ll take the pamphlet with me and think about it carefully.”

Muyoung secretly poked Junho’s side. It was a signal to leave quickly. But Ohseok had no intention of letting them go—or rather, of letting Muyoung go.

What’s most important for an acting academy’s competitiveness?

‘Audition pass rate.’

Or

‘Producing celebrities.’

In a way, these are synonymous. A high audition pass rate increases media exposure, and that’s where celebrities come from.

‘I have to keep him here no matter what.’

Ohseok loved acting aspirants.

He especially cherished the pure mindset of those who decided to pursue acting. But in this case—with a kid who had such uniquely outstanding potential…

“Student Muyoung.”

He was a treasure, both as a director and as an actor. His insane talent. The desire to help him blossom was overwhelming and uncontrollable.

“Sit down for a moment, please.”

Ohseok chose his words carefully.

Carefully, I have to hook this kid no matter what!

“You’re talented, student.”

“Huh? Oh. Thank you.”

What a fool. He clearly didn’t understand the depth of what Ohseok meant by ‘talented.’

“Innate qualities can’t be touched, but you’re a natural. If you just improve the parts that can be trained…”

How would it turn out?

Ohseok couldn’t imagine the child’s future and closed his mouth. Instead, his mind was flooded with things he wanted to teach him.

Expression of emotions. Memorization of lines. Movement of muscles. Pronunciation. Breathing. Even the instincts and patience needed on set.

‘Ugh! I’m going crazy!’

“Knowing how to express emotions instinctively is a huge advantage. There are so many aspirants who struggle with that no matter how hard they try.”

Muyoung just nodded blankly. The unexpected praise felt too unrealistic.

That was because it was a talent he hadn’t known about until he graduated from high school. If it hadn’t been for that day’s incident, Muyoung would have lived his whole life without knowing about it.

“I’ll be honest. Come to our academy. I want to coach you specially.”

“Huh?”

In addition to regular classes, he wanted to offer one-on-one lessons. As a mentor rather than a director or student, he wanted to inspire each other and act alongside this genius he had never met before.

“Uh, well…”

However, Muyoung’s expression became increasingly troubled.

What’s wrong with him?

Ohseok quickly added,

“I’ll only charge you the basic tuition fee.”

He meant the advanced class fee of 300,000 won. Ohseok swallowed hard, waiting for the boy’s answer.

“I’m sorry.”

But it was a firm refusal.

The director began to feel increasingly anxious.

‘Is he planning to check out other academies too? Or maybe this is the last one he’s visiting. Yeah. Unless he’s an idiot, there’s no way he’d pass up someone like this. Damn it. But I’m really confident…’

Various thoughts tangled like threads and swirled in Ohseok’s mind. He remained silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Have you already found another place?”

If you’re desperate, go straight to the point!

“Uh, well…”

“Then take about three trial classes. Of course, the other teachers are also very good, but BV has its own-”

“That’s not it.”

Muyoung cut off Ohseok, who was speaking passionately. He looked quite troubled, and so did Junho beside him.

“……What’s the problem?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t afford it.”

“Huh?”

Ohseok pondered those words.

Can’t afford it? A money issue?

“I was just planning to gather some information briefly. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Right. We were just wondering how much it costs. Hehe.”

Junho also helped Muyoung by adding a word. Then, as if urging his friend to get up, he grabbed his collar.

“Well then. Sorry to bother you.”

“Take care.”

Since Ohseok didn’t respond, the two left the academy as if fleeing. In fact, countless plans were swirling in his mind, but Muyoung and Junho had no way of knowing that.

“Phew. I feel kind of bad about this.”

“I know. I think the tteokbokki I ate earlier is going to come back up.”

Tap tap.

As they hurried down the stairs, another set of footsteps echoed from behind. It was Ohseok, who had come chasing after them.

“Hey. Student Muyoung.”

The two froze and slowly moved toward the wall. If worse comes to worst, let’s just run away. As friends, they communicated perfectly without words.

“Then let me make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

However, what Ohseok said next was unexpected.

“Just take the classes. Let’s work together. But on the condition that when you get cast or succeed later, you must specify that you’re from our academy.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Don’t go anywhere else. Come to me.”

Muyoung blinked and looked at Junho. Was he understanding this correctly?

“So, you’re saying the classes are free?”

It was an offer filled with confidence that he would definitely get cast and succeed. Muyoung and Junho were too stunned to realize that. Ohseok had already done the calculations.

“It’s a kind of investment.”

He raised his eyebrows, urging a response. Muyoung slowly turned his head and looked at the entrance of the building. Flower petals were still scattering in the sky.

“……Well, first of all, thank you.”

What kind of situation is this?

It was the first time he had received such kindness and expectation.

Muyoung still looked at the flower petals and smiled.

“What are you thanking me for? Think of it as business.”

If he had been rejected after going this far, he would have felt a little sad. Ohseok let out a sigh of relief. Just then,

“But I have a proposal too.”