Ghost-seeing actor

The staff immediately began preparing for the shoot.

Since the actor playing the lead role had changed, there were many things that needed to be adjusted.

Taeju quickly opened the script and began memorizing the lines for the protagonist, ‘Myeong Hyeonseok.’

He was desperate.

He wanted to make the most of this opportunity.

The acting he had done as a child, the passion for acting that had been in his heart for the past ten years.

The countless lines he had muttered alone in a corner of the park.

He wanted to prove that none of it had been in vain.

He put the script down and walked over to the mirror.

He looked at himself and performed the movements along with the lines.

“Get out of the way!”

In that moment, his eyes, filled with focus, began to shine with madness.

Taeju felt something was wrong and immediately stopped acting.

[Why?]
‘I think the direction of the acting is wrong.’

Taeju stared at his reflection in the mirror.

His face was filled with excitement and passion.

It was the expression of Myeong Hyeonseok, as described in the script.

The nervousness and excitement before the championship final.

But something was wrong.

‘What’s the problem?’

The lines were perfect, the tone was good, and the movements were clean and concise.

But then, Lee Junghyup, who had been quietly observing, spoke up.

[The character in the script isn’t coming through completely.]
‘Is that so?’

[Right now, you’re acting as Myeong Hyeonseok, but what’s really showing is Han Taeju, you yourself.]
Taeju thought about his words carefully.

Then, while throwing a punch, he repeated the lines several times.

That’s when the realization struck him.

He understood why his acting was wrong.

“I’ve been trying too hard. I didn’t understand the essence of the character.”

He had been trying to execute the flashy techniques perfectly.

But that was Han Taeju’s personal ambition, not the character.

He needed to change his mindset to Myeong Hyeonseok.

Myeong Hyeonseok was an ordinary person who entered the tournament and made it to the final.

He was the very definition of an underdog.

Until this competition, he had been an ordinary person who had quit boxing.

So, he had to be rougher.

Instead of showing a polished image like a professional athlete, he had to show desperation and eagerness.

As soon as Taejoo made his decision, he immediately took his stance.

With the same words as before, the same footwork, and the same punch, he threw it.

“Just go down!”

However, the feel was different.

There was more urgency for victory.

His once skillful punching became offbeat and wildly extended.

In that moment, there was no longer the certainty of victory, but the desperation to win.

Bang.

The missed punch slammed into the mirror.

The sharp pain in his hand brought Taejoo back to reality.

He faced the reflected, conflicted gaze in the mirror.

His face was completely frozen.

It was as if he had been shocked.

‘What’s wrong? Is something strange?’

[No.]

Taejoo shrugged his shoulders.

It seemed like he was about to give advice, but it wasn’t the case.

However, he didn’t realize.

That Lee Joongyeop was amazed by Taejoo’s acting.

He had only given a hint, but Taejoo had understood it perfectly.

Moreover, Taejoo had shown more than what was expected.

Taejoo, who tried so hard that his acting was more stylish than the usual Lee Myungseok.

After taking in his advice, he emphasized the fighting spirit over technique, reflecting Lee Myungseok’s true nature.

The acting he expected was about that level.

But Taejoo went beyond that.

The desperation, as though he had nothing left to lose, radiated from every part of him.

His performance gave Lee Joongyeop goosebumps.

It was as though he had erased himself completely and layered the character on top.

Could this really be achieved by just effort?

[No. He’s just crazy.]

Lee Joongyeop stared at Taejoo.

This kid wasn’t just obsessed with acting.

He was purely, completely, mad about acting.

Two sets of eyes flashed before him.

Eyes filled with filthy desires.

Eyes burning with pure passion for acting.

Lee Joongyeop gazed steadily at Taejoo.

[Is that why I was instinctively drawn to him? He’s different from the guy I worked with before.]

***

“Let’s match the moves now!”

Dongrak’s voice rang loudly.

Taejoo hurriedly jumped into the ring.

Now, the real rehearsal began.

Following the director’s guidance, they practiced their moves a few times.

The opposing fighter and the director exclaimed in surprise.

“What’s this? Why are they so good?”

“See, when two skilled people are paired together, the synergy is amazing. This is the real thrill of a finals match.”

Dongrak, who had been checking the time, looked up.

“Alright, let’s go for the first take. We’re running out of time, so let’s hurry.”

As everyone got into position, Taejoo clenched his fist.

Now, it was do or die.

He had decided to act, and it was time to go all the way.

That was his resolve.

“Ready… Action!”

***

Finally, it was the finals.

Myungseok raised his guard in the ring.

His opponent, the strongest fighter in his weight class, relentlessly threw punches.

Myungseok was too busy blocking with both hands to protect his face.

Punches rained down from the sides where he had exposed gaps.

Outside the ring, the crowd’s loud cheers filled the space.

“This will be over soon.”

“He got this far just by luck. How could an ordinary person beat a pro?”

“Hey, stop playing around and finish the match!”

He swallowed his painful groan.

No one expected anything from him.

No one believed in his abilities.

Only he himself believed in himself.

Myungseok gritted his teeth and defended himself.

As he was cornered, there was truly no place left to retreat.

The punches that struck his headgear were fierce.

Myungseok looked for an opening and waited for a chance.

For a moment, as he stumbled, his opponent seemed to relax, revealing a gap.

Myungseok smiled confidently.

Now was the time for his counterattack.

When the opponent’s powerful punch came in from the outside, Myungseok quickly lowered his body and extended his arm toward the opponent’s stomach.

But the opponent easily swatted his punch away.

For a brief moment, Myungseok’s right hand dropped, leaving his opponent’s right side completely open.

In that one second, Myungseok decided to make his move.

“Ahhh!”

The red glove landed squarely on the opponent’s cheek.

The punch, powered by all his strength, contorted the opponent’s face, and he gasped for air.

“Just go down!”

Myungseok gritted his teeth and shouted.

This was not just a command for his opponent, but also for himself.

Having lived so far ignoring his dreams due to the pressures of life, he had barely made it into the competition and fought with all his might to get this far.

A man who had never known victory in his life, he desperately wanted to win this competition.

And the same went for Taejoo.

This project had ignited a fire in him for acting.

He didn’t want to let the passion he had struggled to rekindle go out.

More than anything, he coveted the role of Myungseok.

He saw so much of himself in the character.

Someone who, for various reasons, had strayed from their dreams and was now challenging them once again.

That was why he couldn’t give up on this project.

Taejoo quickly switched from his right hand to his left and threw a punch.

The opponent tried to raise his hands in surprise, but it was too late.

The opponent couldn’t keep up with Taejoo’s reaction speed.

Thud!

The moment the opponent hit the floor.

“Myungseok, KO win!”

Taejoo lifted his face.

It was drenched in something that could have been sweat or tears.

***

At first, the filming had been full of doubts.

But as the filming progressed, the expressions of the staff watching Taejoo gradually softened.

Even those evaluating his acting forgot their original purpose.

Everyone was holding their breath, completely captivated by his performance.

They couldn’t take their eyes off of him.

Even when he knocked out his opponent.

Even when he blinked, wiping his eyes that had become moist.

“Wow, look at that gaze.”

When Jo Seongbok did it, no reaction like that had happened.

Though the lines were the same, how the actors delivered them made all the difference, and Taejoo excelled in this.

This was not just a boxing scene from a movie.

It was as if the scene had leapt out of the movie and into reality.

Taejoo’s gaze held Myungseok’s desperation without fail.

Perhaps that was why.

So many people couldn’t tear their eyes away from his gaze.

“He’s good. Not only at boxing, but his acting is even better than Seongbok sunbaenim’s.”

“His experience as a child actor really shows. Has he been practicing acting separately?”

“He’s staying in the camera frame perfectly, and his pronunciation is clear enough to be heard.”

“He’s really putting in the effort. The energy is really good. This is the Myungseok Dongrak wanted, right?”

They all turned to look at Seo Dongrak.

He was biting his lip.

Deep inside, emotions began to stir.

All the stress that had built up until now was released with Taejoo’s performance.

This was the kind of acting he had wanted to see.

A desperate, fierce underdog boxer.

In the camera frame, Taejoo filled the screen.

Dongrak rubbed his eyes.

The desperate boxer and the desperate Taejoo seemed to overlap.

Could it be that, like Myungseok, Dongrak had risen again?

At that moment, he made up his mind.

He would give the role of Myungseok to Taejoo.

He trusted Taejoo’s acting and was certain that it was the best choice.

***

“Cut!”

Taejoo looked around.

He had returned to reality.

From Myungseok, who had been standing in the glamorous arena just moments ago, to Han Taejoo.

But the feeling of having acted was still alive within him.

He took off the headgear and gloves and wiped the sweat off with a towel.

He had poured all his effort into wanting this role.

However, casting was ultimately the director’s decision.

Dongrak called him over to the side with the camera.

“Take a look at the footage of the performance you just did. What do you think?”

Taejoo silently watched the video of his performance.

There might be some areas to improve.

But it was a performance he had no regrets about.

“The evaluation is up to the director. But I have no regrets.”

“Really?”

At that moment, when Taejoo nervously bit his lip, Dongrak gave him a playful tap on the shoulder and smiled brightly.

“Why are you so worried? I’ve already made up my mind.”

He turned to the staff next to him as if seeking their approval.

“What do you think? Should we give the role of Myungseok to Taejoo?”

“I agree.”

Starting with one person’s approval, everyone nodded in agreement.

Dongrak extended his hand to Taejoo.

“We have one week left until we submit the movie. Let’s give it our all.”

“I will.”

Taejoo smiled brightly.

He was overjoyed.

To be able to act with others, after having acted alone all this time, was a happiness he couldn’t describe.

On the side, Lee Joongyeop grumbled.

[Why are you so happy over something so obvious? Is this something to celebrate? Who else would take that role but you?]

‘It’s something to celebrate. Do you know how much I wanted this role?’

Lee Joongyeop’s lips twitched.

He had a lot to say, but it seemed he was holding back.

Taejoo also had a lot to say to Lee Joongyeop.

At first, he had wanted to deny it.

Their connection had not started on the best terms.

However, he couldn’t deny that his life had changed because of Lee Joongyeop.

It was Lee Joongyeop who had seen him start acting again, up close and personal.

Lee Joongyeop, who loved acting more than anyone, who had put so much depth into his craft, and whose passion for acting had become his burden.

In some ways, they were alike.

‘How did you think of my acting, sir?’

Taejoo’s sudden question.

He had actually wanted to ask Lee Joongyeop first.

The man who had followed him after seeing his acting at the park.

The one who had observed his acting from the closest possible distance.

The senior who had watched his performance with honest eyes, as a fellow actor.

Though others might not know, with Lee Joongyeop, Taejoo could reveal all aspects of himself, without reservation.

Lee Joongyeop snickered.

[You’re not bad at all.]

He seemed to struggle to hide a smile, his lips twitching.

[You’re meant to act. Junior, don’t waste it, and keep working hard.]

With the subtle praise, Taejoo smiled contentedly.

It felt good to have earned his recognition more than anyone else.

***

A few hours later.

The department office at the Korean University of the Arts buzzed with the sound of a phone ringing.

The woman answering the phone began raising her voice.

“But Dongrak, are you really sure about this? You know the quality of the film is important, right? Of course, it’s your choice who you cast. But this is for the Firman Film Festival. It’s not good for a student from our school to submit a poorly made film…”

At that moment, the door opened.

A strong man in a perfectly fitted suit walked in.

The staff immediately stood up to greet him.

“The department head is here.”

“Ah, yes.”

The staff member who had been on the phone lowered her voice.

“Okay, I understand now. The department head just arrived, so I’ll hang up.”

Only then did the department head speak up.

“I could hear Ha-seon’s voice all the way from outside, so I thought I’d come in and check.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why was she so angry? Ha-seon was really upset for some reason.”

The female staff member, glancing at him, explained.

“The students in the film department are all in a frenzy because they’re submitting works for the Firman Short Film Festival. But one student is replacing their lead actor just one week before the submission deadline, and it’s making everyone anxious. The new actor isn’t even from the acting department.”

“Really? Why did they change it?”

“The lead actor had to undergo surgery for a pneumothorax. So, they had no choice but to replace him. But how are they going to finish the movie and submit it in just a week…? It would be better not to submit it at all than to submit something poorly made.”

“Well, that’s their own skill, I suppose.”

Department head Lee Hyung-gon chuckled.

The female staff member sighed, watching his reaction.

Then, as if remembering something, she tilted her head in thought.

“Come to think of it, the new actor they replaced—his name sounds familiar. I heard he’s been a child actor before?”

A colleague nearby joined in.

“A child actor? Was he famous?”

“He was the kid who played Ddol-ddol-ee in Twogether.”

“Ddol-ddol-ee?”

“Ddol-ddol-ee? That cute kid? How old is he now?”

“Apparently, he’s 21.”

Lee Hyung-gon fell into thought, repeating the name to himself.

“Han Tae-joo…”