Ghost-seeing actor

A studio filled with countless lights.

The shoot that had been going on for three hours was finally nearing its end.

“Okay, just one more shot! Great, Taeju, stay just like that!”

The excited photographer’s flash burst toward the model under the lights.

The model’s name was Han Taeju.

His steady gaze into the camera and lean figure were striking.

A tilted pose.

A pose with his hand on his waist.

A pose with his large hand covering the left side of his face.

The expressionless face was accentuated by his intense eyes.

***

Before he knew it, the clock had passed 8 PM.

“Thank you for your hard work!”

The once-dim studio was now brightly lit.

Taeju was walking around to greet the staff when he was stopped by the photographer.

“You’re free this weekend, right? I recommended you for a photoshoot with Kang Jaeha.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I can’t. I already have plans to go somewhere with my family.”

“What? But it’s Kang Jaeha we’re talking about! When else will you get to shoot with such a star?”

“Sorry. You know my family comes first.”

The photographer raised both hands, conceding to Taeju’s unbending will.

As Taeju left the studio, the photographer shared his disappointment with a nearby staff member.

“He keeps letting great opportunities slip by. How can a 21-year-old be so obsessed with family?”

“Apparently, his family consists of just his aunt and a 10-year-old cousin.”

“Yeah, it can’t be easy for a young woman to take in her orphaned nephew.”

“That’s why Taeju is especially devoted to his family.”

The photographer swallowed his disappointment with effort.

“Still, it’s such a good opportunity. Honestly, Taeju’s face and expressions are incredible. They were really taken with his look, too…”

He turned his head and asked curiously.

“But did Taeju ever study acting or something? The more I think about it, this doesn’t feel like his first time in this industry.”

“He did child acting for a bit. Don’t you remember ‘Ddolddoli’? About ten years ago, there was a super popular drama on XBS called ‘Double Contract Family’.”

“Really? You’re telling me Taeju was that kid?”

The photographer’s face twisted in confusion.

“Ddolddoli was short and chubby, wasn’t he? Taeju’s 185 cm tall and lean.”

“Kids look completely different when they grow up. I didn’t recognize him at first, either.”

“No wonder he seems so seasoned in front of the camera. But why doesn’t Taeju act? It’s such a waste of talent.”

“There’s a story behind that.”

The staff member paused as if about to share a big secret.

“They say it’s a miracle Taeju even made it this far. On his way to an audition, his parents died in a car accident. The kid wasn’t himself after that—he couldn’t speak properly because of aphasia, and he kept saying he could see ghosts.”

“What? He went through all of that? You’d never guess it now; he looks completely fine.”

“Think about how hard he must’ve worked to get to this point. Anyway, I really hope Taeju does well, no matter what he chooses to do. He’s such a good kid.”

The two fell silent for a moment.

The photographer let out a sigh, heavy with regret.

***

The moon shone brightly in the night sky.

Taeju was on his way home, riding the bus.

Several women glanced at him.

“He’s really handsome. His nose is a work of art.”

“And he’s so tall. He must be a model.”

Their lingering stares followed him until he stepped off the bus.

He quickly walked into a dim alleyway.

Passing by a convenience store and through the faint glow of a streetlight, he finally reached a familiar street.

It was the place featured on the news a few days ago.

A four-year-old girl had died there while getting off a kindergarten bus.

Taeju, who had a young cousin of his own, couldn’t help but feel uneasy about it.

As he hurried along, he suddenly noticed something.

Under a streetlight, a little girl was sobbing loudly.

“Mom… Mommmy…!”

The girl, wearing a kindergarten backpack, looked no older than four or five.

Beside her stood a tall man in a black coat, his presence suspicious.

Was the girl being threatened by the man?

Instinctively, Taeju approached to protect her.

But the man had already vanished.

Kneeling down, Taeju gently asked the girl,

“Sweetie, why are you here alone?”

“Mom said she’d come pick me up, but she hasn’t. How much longer do I have to wait? I’m scared alone…”

The girl’s large tears fell like drops of rain.

Taeju reached out, intending to wipe the girl’s tears, but his hand passed right through her.

The girl was a ghost.

Even with a ghost right in front of him, Taeju wasn’t startled; instead, he remained calm.

‘Is she the girl who died a few days ago?’

Taeju had been able to see ghosts ever since his parents passed away, but acknowledging them was something he rarely did.

Once a ghost received attention from the living, it often became clingy, demanding companionship or causing trouble.

However, this little ghost in front of him now—he wanted to comfort her.

The ghostly child reminded him of himself when he was younger.

After that terrible accident, when he trembled, waiting for parents who would never come.

Taeju met the little girl’s eyes.

“It’s okay. If you wait here, your mom will come.”

[But I’m scared to wait alone…]

“Then I’ll wait with you. It’s not scary if I wait with you, right?”

The little girl stared at Taeju for a moment before her face lit up with a faint smile.

[I’m not alone anymore? I don’t have to be scared?]

“Right. I’ll stay with you so you won’t be scared, okay?”

[Heehee. I’m not scared anymore!]

As her faint smile grew into a bright, beaming one—

[Thank you so much, oppa!]

A dazzling light filled the space before his eyes.

***

“I’m home.”

When he returned, it was already 9 PM.

While washing up, Taeju thought back to what had happened earlier.

The little ghost had vanished in a burst of bright light.

It was the first time something like this had happened.

In his childhood, when he unknowingly acknowledged ghosts, all they ever did was talk to him.

“What exactly happened…?”

After washing up quickly, Taeju entered his cousin’s room.

On the bed, a plump little girl was rolling around but perked up the moment she saw him.

“Oppa! Why are you so late? You promised to read me a story!”

“Sorry. Work finished late. But did you finish your homework? You know we have to do it early if we want to go to the zoo this weekend.”

“I finished everything! So hurry up and read! Hurry!”

As Taeju diligently read to her, Taehee soon began nodding off, her head growing heavy.

“Yawn. I’m sleepy now.”

“Next time, don’t wait up for me so late. Ask Mom to read to you instead.”

At his words, Taehee pouted her cheeks.

“Mom’s no fun. I like it better when you read.”

“Why?”

“Because when you read, it feels like the Ash Witch and Snow White are right in front of me.”

Hearing his sister’s praise, Taeju’s face stiffened.

However, Taeju soon smiled faintly.

“Thank you.”

Back in his room, he pressed down the turmoil in his heart.

It had been ten years since someone praised his acting.

It had also been ten years since he quit acting.

A strange mixture of joy and emptiness filled him.

The moments when he was immersed in a role had just been so blissful.

And that’s what scared him.

He was afraid he might fall back into acting again.

Afraid that the dream of being an actor, buried deep within him, might reignite.

It all began when he was eight years old.

It was his parents—both movie enthusiasts—who introduced him to acting.

At first, he started out of curiosity, but gradually, he grew to love acting.

To him, acting was everything, and he promised himself that he would become a great actor.

But in late autumn, when he was eleven, everything changed.

On their way to a film audition, Taeju and his parents were in a car accident.

He miraculously survived, but his parents passed away.

That was when it began.

He could no longer proudly say that he dreamed of becoming an actor.

How could he pursue acting when it felt like the cost of his parents’ lives?

Regret consumed him.

If he hadn’t begged his parents to take him to the audition, would things have been different?

He wished he could turn back time.

At times, he thought that seeing ghosts after the accident was his punishment.

A consequence of his greed—a cruel irony where he could see ghosts but never his parents again.

The overwhelming guilt left him unable to pursue the thing he once loved most: acting.

But living with his aunt and little cousin, Taehee, gave him a sense of family again.

He found stability and love.

And so he made a vow—to live for his family.

To protect the loved ones he had left and live a happy, quiet life.

That should have been his dream.

Even though, deep down, the dream of becoming an actor still stirred.

Taeju hadn’t completely let go of acting.

That’s why he went out again tonight.

Because he simply couldn’t quit acting.

If he didn’t act, he felt like he would lose his mind.

***

11:30 PM

After finishing his tasks, Taeju came to the neighborhood park.

He walked to a bench near the road, sat down, and put on his earphones to play a video.

It was a scene from Possessionless, a movie starring top star Lee Sunwoo.

Taeju recited the lines in sync with the video.

“What’s the point of having the whole world if you’re not in it?”

His gaze, which had been flicking toward the screen, grew sharper and more focused.

In a dry yet impassioned voice, he delivered the next line with conviction.

“I’ll give you everything I have. Even my life, I’ll entrust to you. So please… just come to me. I’m begging you.”

Soon, he became so immersed in the emotions that tears welled up in his eyes.

For a while, the quiet park echoed only with Taeju’s voice.

For hours, he lived countless lives through acting.

Playing someone else always brought him joy.

Because it let him express his emotions openly, without worrying about others’ judgments.

It wasn’t until 1 AM that he finally removed his earphones.

“Ha… I feel alive again.”

At that moment, Taeju noticed a man loitering on the sidewalk across the street.

Tall, slender, and wearing a black coat—he looked strangely familiar.

Squinting, Taeju tried to recall where he had seen him.

“Where did I see him…? Ah! I remember now.”

It was the man who had been lingering near the little ghost girl earlier.

But then again, maybe he wasn’t lingering?

Taeju realized that because he could see ghosts, he’d paid attention to the man’s odd placement under the streetlight.

Still, it was probably just a coincidence that the man was here.

Taeju tried not to think too much of it as he packed up his things.

When the pedestrian light turned green, the man started walking toward him.

[Hey, you can see me, right? Let’s talk!]

But just then, a car sped down the road, showing no signs of slowing.

The man kept walking across the crosswalk, completely unfazed.

His gaze remained locked intensely on Taeju.

It was pure instinct.

Taeju sprinted toward him with all his might.

The car, thundering with loud music, barreled forward and closed in.

At the last possible moment, Taeju threw himself toward the man.

“Hey, are you crazy? Do you have a death wish?”

Taeju shoved the man toward the sidewalk with all his strength.

Or at least, he tried to.

Before his hands could even touch the man, they passed right through thin air.

“What the… Don’t tell me… you’re a ghost?”

The unexpected situation left him dazed.

As Taeju stumbled through the man and fell to the ground, he heard a deafening crash.

BANG!

The car, speeding at full force, narrowly missed him and smashed into the traffic light.

Taeju tumbled several times across the pavement.

His entire body convulsed, and his consciousness started to fade.

It was then that a flash of light streaked through him.

His entire life flashed before his eyes like a reel of film.

The day he held his movie-enthusiast father’s hand and went to his first audition.

The day he proudly told his mother that the director had complimented his acting.

The warm hugs from his parents when he won a child actor award.

The sight of his parents dying in front of his eyes after the car accident.

How he quit acting afterward but still felt a pang in his heart every time he saw something on TV.

The countless days he spent practicing acting alone in the corner of the park.

“I should’ve acted to my heart’s content…”

It was the final flame that burned fiercely as his consciousness faded.

I should’ve done it sooner.

If I knew I’d die like this…

I regret not giving it my all as an actor.

I shouldn’t have hidden in the shadows.

I should’ve stepped forward and acted with pride.

What did I do for the last ten years?

Sure, I worked hard, but I ignored my dream.

[You’re not someone who should go out like this, hey!]

The desperate voice of a man brushed against his ears.

And then Taeju lost consciousness.

***

“Gasp!”

When he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital.

The sharp smell of blood and alcohol stung his nose.

He let out a sigh of relief.

[You okay? The car that hit you—turns out it was a drunk driver. That’s why it didn’t stop or follow the signal.]

A voice spoke beside him, and he sat up.

Turning his head, he saw the man from before.

The man who had almost been hit on the crosswalk.

Tall—easily over 185 cm—with a unique aura and striking good looks, he was undeniably handsome.

Taeju clutched his throbbing head as he tried to get up.

“You’re…?”

The man looked at him with a curious gaze.

[Why did you try to save me? You could’ve died, you know.]

“Does someone need a reason to save another person?”

Taeju’s mind flashed back to his old memories.

His parents, dying in front of his eyes.

He hadn’t been able to save them.

All he could do was sob helplessly.

He never wanted to feel that way again.

That’s why he saved the man.

[Ha, I don’t know if I should call you brave or reckless. Still, it’s a relief you’re not too badly hurt. You only got grazed when you tried to push me.]

The man’s eyes suddenly gleamed with interest.

[I saw you acting in the park. I was instinctively drawn to your performance. That raw honesty that moves people—that is acting. You dream of being an actor too, don’t you?]

“Why are you asking that?”

Even as Taeju eyed him suspiciously, the man seemed unfazed.

[Well, I had my fair share of struggles as an actor too. There were times when I practiced alone, just like you. That’s why…]

The man looked at him warmly.

[I want to help you. As a senior actor.]

The sudden offer made Taeju take a step back.

The man seemed suspicious.

Taeju reached out to touch him—

And his hand passed right through the man’s body.

In that instant, a memory struck him.

Right before he lost consciousness on the road.

He had tried to shove the man aside, but his hands had passed through him.

‘Earlier, I thought I was just hallucinating because I was out of it…’

Taeju let out a deep sigh and muttered,

“Ha… You’re not human, are you?”

The man smiled brightly.

[Yep, I’m a ghost.]