Chapter 83
“What was Han Tae-geon’s KakaoTalk message about yesterday?”
As soon as I saw the reply confirming that he understood.
I had asked the exact meaning of that “understand” many times over.
But the response was still,
“> I understand, I understand perfectly, Dong-ho.”
It was just the word “understand.”
Honestly, I had some sense of the situation, so I roughly knew what he meant.
“Is he saying he’s going to audition?”
But no matter how much I thought about it, it didn’t make sense.
Why would a top-tier actor with the title of national superstar and a lead in a billion-dollar film come to audition for a kids’ play?
It was more reasonable to think he would just be coming to watch the play.
But…
“It feels fishy.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t just coming to watch.
But still, I had no choice but to carry on with the audition.
As soon as my classes were over, I called Bong Jinwoo.
“Yes, yes, Dong-ho. I’m right in front of you.”
Awkward.
As soon as I made the call, Jinwoo suddenly popped up in front of me, and I scratched my cheek awkwardly.
“Uh, I was going to head to the theater club for the audition.”
“If you’re talking about Sparking… I’m done with that. No need to be there anymore.”
“Huh?”
“No need to be surprised. Just… We need to get serious; I don’t have time to deal with children’s playtime.”
We absolutely have to succeed with the story of the stars and the moon; that’s what we need to focus on.
Jinwoo spoke so earnestly, without a hint of hesitation.
“And I’ve posted the audition announcement online separately.”
“Oh, really? No need to prepare together?”
“Yeah, it feels a bit weird getting help all the way to that point. We’ve already received a lot of investment….”
Did he say they received a lot of investment?
I had the urge to ask the exact amount but suppressed it.
At what point does someone say they’ve received a lot of money?
“No, how much did they spend on the kids’ performance in the first place?”
Suddenly, Seok-ho’s remark about his entire fortune nagged at my mind.
There’s no way they actually invested that much, right?
Did they think they were going to recoup that?
“I know my level, but…”
Are they just going to trust me and invest blindly?
“Is this the heart of a beast that follows in my father’s footsteps?”
As those thoughts crossed my mind.
“By the way, do you know when the audition will be?”
“Uh, the… we won’t need a lot of characters, so I’m thinking we can wait until the week after next or so to hold it.”
“Three weeks from now? I think I’ll wait until then to see it.”
“Oh, so it’s at the Daehangno?”
“Yeah, yeah. The performance will be there anyway.”
“Got it.”
I suddenly had a feeling that things were about to get a lot bigger.
Like, the size might be something extraordinary?
“But do you have any actors in mind?”
“Uh, well… I was thinking of casting Kim Sujin for the role of Rose. I sent the request, and she agreed right away.”
“And the others?”
“Um, honestly, just having Kim Donghu choose my work is an honor… I think the rest will be decided through auditions.”
As I continued the conversation with those thoughts, I noticed a problem with this chat.
“Hey, senior. You’re being way too formal… I’m a junior.”
“Yeah? Yeah, I know. You’re my junior, right?”
“?”
It was the same with Han Tae-geon and Bong Jinwoo.
“What do you even know to say that?”
I felt like they didn’t know anything at all.
+++++
The afternoon of the day after Bong Jinwoo said he would post the audition notice online.
“See? I told you it would really be up!”
“W-Wait, it really is?”
Han Tae-geon’s manager opened his eyes wide as he looked at the actual theater notice.
“This design is so sophisticated, it can’t possibly be made by a high school student.”
It was clear that talent was evident, but unfortunately, the views on the post were only 8 at this point.
It had been 6 hours since it was posted, and it still hadn’t reached two digits.
“It’s hard to get interest in a play anyway.”
Since many were already part of theater companies.
The manager nodded at Han Tae-geon’s explanation.
Usually, theater companies recruit scripts rather than having a scriptwriter form a company.
Well, even if they did, it’s rare for a recruitment post to come out right from the start.
But the author of the post had just signed up yesterday.
And checking the profile revealed they were a second-year high school student with this being their first work?
“Just looking at their information, who would even think about clicking on that post?”
What kind of crazy person would just dive headfirst into a project like this?
Han Tae-geon’s manager looked at him with a strange gaze.
“But you’re the one trying to do it.”
“That’s because this post is just too righteous. Can you imagine how many people would’ve shown up if it said I’d be working with Kim Donghu?”
Yet, not taking the easy route and deciding to compete purely on their own merits is impressive.
I like directors like this, those who have crazy confidence about their own work.
These are the types who have a high chance of making it big.
After silently listening to Han Tae-geon, the manager decided he had to say something.
Nine years of working together.
During that time, Han Tae-geon had never shown such enthusiasm.
He had just figured out the reason why.
“You definitely get chatty when you want something, huh?”
“Huh?”
“You want to work with Kim Donghu again, don’t you?”
“…Is it that obvious?”
“It was obvious from the start, but I didn’t think it would reach this level.”
With his manager’s words, Han Tae-geon fell into a moment of thought.
‘Was it like that?’
At some point, acting had started to feel like a job.
The pressure that came with the title of a national actor.
The weight of always being on the verge of falling if even one mistake was made.
All these things were slowly tightening around his neck.
Then he met Kim Donghu at that moment.
Overwhelming acting.
A vast presence announced by destructive talent.
Seeing that, Han Tae-geon thought.
‘Perhaps my original intention is over there.’
The moment he was awed by someone else’s performance, feeling the urge to emulate them and stand next to them.
Han Tae-geon didn’t want to shoot something short like [Endless Frontlines].
He wanted to match acting rhythms deeply with actor Kim Donghu.
But now that moment was right in front of him; how could he not be excited?
“Plus, the fact that no one knows about this makes it even more thrilling.”
“Huh?”
“Right? Who would guess that I and Kim Donghu would be in this play? Who would even consider it?”
Is it right to say it feels like he’s slightly returning to being a rookie?
He’s really dying of excitement.
The pure reaction like a little child made his manager chuckle softly.
“Well, as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.”
After all, his schedule was clear, and with an actor like Han Tae-geon, adjusting schedules was also flexible.
No one would make a fuss over such a thing.
‘Funny how a big-time actor doesn’t even negotiate their pay.’
You mean to say you’d bring in Han Tae-geon without discussing fees through an audition notice?
That was something no one would believe.
‘The play featuring Kim Donghu and Han Tae-geon.’
Incredible, right?
As he pondered this, the manager suddenly thought of a possibility.
‘Could this actually go public?’
Anyway,
National actor Han Tae-geon’s decision to participate in the audition!
+++++
Unfortunately, Han Tae-geon’s manager was wrong in his assumptions.
To be precise, there was no need for rumors to spread.
“Mom, should I audition for that too?”
“Huh?”
“For the play with Donghu and you, should I audition?”
“What are you talking about, Mom?”
Kim Sujin was bewildered by the words of her mother, Kim Yu-ryun, the queen of the screen.
“Mom, this is for the kids!”
“What do you mean kids? They’re recruiting actors this way, saying they’d take external actors.”
“But still…”
“Hey, but that…”
“Isn’t it wrong for Mom to do that?”
“Isn’t it a bit weird to butt in while the kids are playing?”
Kim Sujin stopped mid-sentence, about to say something.
‘It’s not like it’s a place for kids to play anyway.’
The moment Kim Donghu showed up, it was no longer just a playful gathering.
How could it be a playful gathering when the star of the 40% rated show appeared?
And also,
‘Me too…’
Surprisingly, this was a serious production.
No, it was even excessively casted.
This wasn’t something a mere high school screenwriter could put together.
“Mom also wanted to try some harmony back in Hydream, and I wanted to act with our son-in-law again someday.”
“Wha-what son-in-law! Why are we talking about that! It’s not like that yet!”
Kim Sujin’s mom, Kim Yu-ryun, narrowed her eyes sharply at her daughter’s words.
“Not yet? Did you just say it’s not yet? So… Donghu is destined to become our son-in-law?”
“I-I don’t know… He seems not interested in stuff like that.”
Seeing her suddenly droopy daughter, Kim Yu-ryun smiled gently.
“Seeing you like this, I guess I should definitely go audition.”
Queen of the screen, Kim Yu-ryun.
Decision to participate in the audition!
++++++
Every now and then, there are such people in the world.
They are clearly human,
But they possess the senses of some well-trained beast.
The intuition of such people is on par with some foreseeing ability.
No one can afford to underestimate them.
Seo Jin-woo, the star of [Swordsman Baek Dong-su], was one such person.
“Why do you look so happy?”
“Huh?”
Seo Jin-woo, who often meets Han Tae-geon personally, narrowed his eyes at Han Tae-geon, who strangely seemed happier these days.
Why does this overly sensitive guy look so cheerful all of a sudden?
“You’ve got something going on, don’t you?”
“What? What would I have?”
Swoosh!
After distracting him with a question,
Seo Jin-woo immediately snatched Han Tae-geon’s phone.
What could be so interesting that he’d only be focused on his phone during drinking?
Looking at the phone screen he’d taken, a new question arose.
“Actor recruitment notice? Theater troupe? What’s this?”
Just as he was about to ask, “Are you auditioning for this?”
Something clicked in Seo Jin-woo’s mind.
“…Kim Donghu is in it.”
That piercing intuition hit the mark perfectly.