"Hup!"
The silence shattered with Jun-ho's reflexive gasp. He clamped a hand over his mouth, staring at his friend in stunned silence.
It was uncanny. Unsettling enough to raise goosebumps.
"Keep going?"
Moo-young paused to ask, since they'd only done single gestures so far. O-seok leaned over the monitor up to his waist before replying.
"Go all out. Don't stop—show us everything you want."
His tone had already softened without anyone noticing. Moo-young was too immersed, and the rest were too shocked by his acting.
Didn't he say it was his first time?
O-seok had started acting as a college freshman. He'd encountered and trained countless pros, but this was a first. How could a total beginner pull off such nuanced emotional arcs?
He glued his face nearly to the screen.
"If you can, try anger too, besides love."
Moo-young just nodded calmly and turned to Bora. She'd volunteered on a whim, but now she felt trapped.
Damn.
She was being overwhelmed. It was just acting—she'd done it a million times—but looking into Moo-young's eyes made her feel like she was his lover.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Keep going."
Moo-young whispered softly. The moment Bora said she was fine, he dove back in. This time, he lightly brushed her earlobe, then trailed his fingertip down to her chin.
This crazy bastard. Fucking psycho.
Jun-ho peeked through his fingers, heart pounding. It felt like intruding on their private world—he could barely breathe.
You called me a playboy earlier, but look at you going even harder.
Moo-young continued expressing love with just his fingers. A provocative sensuality by cupping her chin. A mature lover by stroking her brow. Playful first love by tickling under her nose.
"That's love for now."
He paused to switch topics. Catching his breath, he saw everyone staring, dumbfounded. They'd all stiffened up, making his own first time in front of a camera feel tame.
What's wrong?
Especially Jun-ho's reaction. His friend looked like he'd witnessed something horrifying. But the students were the same.
What's this? Isn't it just a test?
Didn't he say it was his first time acting?
Senior year of high school? Same age as me?
Whoa. Holy shit. That's raw talent.
Where'd he go to film school? Top of the class for sure.
And so on. They were reeling just like Jun-ho.
The director cleared his throat, voice slightly flushed, and made a request.
"Try lines with the anger."
"Lines?"
No matter how you sliced it, he wasn't a beginner. This was to check his vocalization and breathing. Moo-young pulled out a desk chair and bowed to Bora.
"You can go now. Thanks."
Bora bit her lip and sat down, cheeks burning. Lingering immersion from playing his lover, mixed with unfamiliar inferiority. She ducked her head to hide her expression.
"But I don't know any lines."
"TV drama works fine. Even trendy slang."
"Hmm."
Moo-young pondered, then recalled a morning soap. The one blowing up with kimchi slaps leading into modern Hee-bu-and-Noo-bu ladle whacks.
"Haha! Hahaha—!"
He hadn't watched it—just mimicking clips he'd seen floating around. Focusing to recall, he spat out the line.
"Living off others your whole life must've made you bold. A ladle? Haha!"
Suddenly, a question hit him as the words left his mouth. What was the difference between impression and acting?
"Fine. Let's see it."
The "ladle" tipped everyone off to the drama. The infamous original clip played in their minds.
How's he gonna do it?
Recreating an existing role usually fell into two camps: layering on your own or drowning in the original's color.
"I'll kill you all."
Moo-young swept his right hand across his cheek, flicking off imaginary rice grains. Then he clenched his fist hard and crushed them.
Identical so far.
"I'll kill you—!"
But he went further, raking his nails across the desk. The sticky, humiliating rice mush squished, perfectly capturing the sleazy character's vibe.
"That's it."
Done. As Moo-young spoke, everyone exhaled the breath they'd been holding. Silent glances bounced around.
He is a beginner.
O-seok agreed. Straightening up, he shifted from the monitor to Moo-young in the flesh.
"Didn't know the rest of the lines."
His vocalization and breathing screamed amateur. Well, technically not a complete blank slate. The lines were solid for a first try, but after that otherworldly emotional delivery, they felt lesser by comparison.
"Moo-young. Real first time acting?"
"Yeah. But—"
O-seok twisted his short-trimmed goatee, deep in thought. The room buzzed. Students couldn't hold back.
"Dude, that was insane."
"Where'd you study film?"
"No stage experience either?"
Shock mixed with envy and disbelief.
Moo-young nodded blankly.
"...I told you, first time."
The director packed up the camera gear and addressed the students.
"Alright, everyone. Review your footage, think about what to fix, submit it to me, and we'll reshoot. Love and anger this time, so practice. Moo-young, hang back a sec."
O-seok nudged Moo-young's back as Jun-ho scrambled for his bag and stood.
Slam—the door shut, but the practice room's chaos lingered.
Yu-chan tsked at his laptop.
"Fucking nuts."
"Right? Born for it. Total natural."
Just once. A few minutes of watching, and instinct told them: Moo-young was born to act.
"Bora."
Yu-chan called to Bora, still seated. She was hiding it, but something felt off. Relative deprivation at best, reality crash at worst.
"You good?"
"...Why wouldn't I be?"
She looked soul-drained. And why not? She'd started as a child actor. But progress had slowed, the path grown treacherous.
Talent gap.
Like sprinting till you're dying, only for Usain Bolt to breeze past.
Bora let out a short, hollow laugh.
* * *
"Hey, what the hell was that earlier?"
"What? Acting."
"Why're you groping her face like that?"
"'Cause they're lovers. Or acting like it."
Whisper-whisper. The friends bickered endlessly. Spotting O-seok on the sofa, Moo-young hesitated and called out.
"Director."
He had no plans to stick around—more counseling would just be a burden. Smiling, Moo-young beat around the bush to leave.
"Thanks for the advice, but I've got an appointment—"
"Oh yeah! We're late."
"We'll take the pamphlet and think it over."
Moo-young subtly poked Jun-ho's side. Let's go.
But O-seok had zero intention of letting them—him—go.
What fueled an acting academy's edge? Audition pass rates. Or producing stars. One and the same, really. High passes meant more media exposure, birthing celebs.
Gotta snag him.
O-seok loved aspiring actors. Cherished their pure resolve to perform. But for a standout with unmatched potential like this…
"Moo-young."
As director, he coveted him. As an actor, he was treasure. Insane talent. The urge to nurture it flooded uncontrollably.
"Sit for a bit."
O-seok chose his words carefully. Gotta hook this kid somehow!
"You've got talent."
"Huh? Oh, thanks."
Naive. He clearly didn't grasp the depth of O-seok's "talent."
"Can't teach innate gifts, but you've got 'em. Polish the trainable parts, and you'll be…"
What? O-seok couldn't even imagine. His mind raced with things to teach instead. Emotional expression. Line memorization. Muscle control. Vocalization. Breathing. On-set instinct. Endurance.
Ughhh! Driving me crazy!
"Instinctive emotional delivery is a huge edge. So many aspiring actors hit walls no matter how hard they grind."
Moo-young nodded blankly. The praise felt too surreal. Until high school graduation, he'd never known this knack existed. Without that day, he might've lived oblivious forever.
"Straight talk: come to our academy. I wanna coach you personally."
"Pardon?"
One-on-one beyond regular classes. Not director-student, but mentor-mentee. His first genius to spark off each other in acting.
"Uh, well…"
Moo-young's face grew more awkward. What didn't he like? O-seok rushed to add,
"Tuition at basic rate."
Meaning 300,000 won for premium class. O-seok swallowed hard, awaiting reply.
"Sorry."
Firm rejection. The director started sweating bullets.
Checking other academies? Or this is last stop after rounds? Yeah, no one'd let talent like this slip. Damn, but I've got confidence…
Thoughts tangled like yarn in his head. Silence, then he spoke again.
"Got another place in mind?"
Desperate times, direct attack!
"Uh, um…"
"Try three trial classes then. Other teachers are great too, but BV has its own—"
"No, it's not that."
Moo-young cut off O-seok's fervent pitch. Visibly embarrassed. Jun-ho beside him too.
"...What's the issue?"
"Sorry. Can't afford it."
"Huh?"
O-seok mulled it over. Afford? Money?
"Just came to scout info. Didn't mean to waste your time."
"Yeah, just price-checking. Heh."
Jun-ho chimed in, tugging Moo-young's hem. Up and out.
"Thanks. Sorry to bother."
"Take care."
No reply from O-seok, so they bolted like escapees. His brain was churning plans, unbeknownst to them.
"Whew. Feel kinda bad now."
"Yeah. Tteokbokki's giving me indigestion."
Clatter-clatter down the stairs, then overlapping footsteps behind. O-seok had chased them.
"Hey, Moo-young."
They flinched, edging to the wall. Ready to dash. Friends synced without words.
"Here's my counteroffer."
"Offer?"
But what he proposed was unexpected.
"Audit classes free. Train with me. In return, credit our academy on castings or when you make it big."
"What do you…"
"Skip others. Come to me."
Moo-young blinked at Jun-ho. Did I hear right?
"So… classes free?"
A bet on his casting success. Moo-young and Jun-ho were too stunned to catch it. O-seok's math was done.
"Call it an investment."
He waggled his brows, urging a reply. Moo-young slowly turned to the building entrance. Flower pollen still danced in the sky.
"...Thanks, seriously."
What was this? First time facing such kindness and expectation. Moo-young smiled, eyes on the pollen.
"No thanks needed. It's business."
Whew, close call on rejection heartbreak, O-seok swallowed a sigh of relief.
Then—
"But I've got a proposal too."
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Read 175 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
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