Chapter 5

Honestly, at first, it felt quite good.

Contrary to my nerves, my body didn’t tremble and played its part quite faithfully.

“Even this time, there’s a cheat sheet.”

The advertisement I had seen in my past life came back to me with astonishing clarity.

Then, the acting of Kim Jung-ha at that time, and the performance of young actress Jiyeon, flashed vividly in my mind, much like imprints burned onto my retina.

I can do this.

This should be fine.

I thought optimistically.

“…Something’s off, though.”

The girl captured on camera was brimming with cheerfulness—not at all like me—a vivacious and lively image.

Still, I could see some aspects of Sooyeon Joo in her.

This means I didn’t properly role-play.

In other words, I didn’t act properly.

“What’s the problem?”

The truth is, no matter how long I thought about it, there was no way I could figure it out.

I’ve never had any acting lessons before. All I’ve done is stretch and mimic children’s shows as they aired.

Sure, I’ve acted out characters in my imagination, but I’ve never confirmed them by filming directly like this.

“Hmm…”

Director Cho Min-tae looked troubled as well.

“Actually, it’s fine the way it is.”

He said this after hearing my suggestion to reshoot.

“To be honest, it’s not that there’s any glaring issue, right?”

“Uh, yes.”

“I don’t really know what’s wrong.”

“It just… feels somewhat unnatural.”

One of the staff members said this without much thought, but it was a remark that struck me personally:

Unnaturalness.

“Exactly, that’s it—uncomfortable naturalness.”

Why was that?

While I stared at the recording, someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

“Ms. Kim Jung-ha?”

“Well… you know…”

She hesitated whether she should speak or not, almost as if questioning whether she had the right to say something to me.

In fact, some of the staff watching Kim Jung-ha shook their heads.

This time, her acting, albeit commendable, was weighed down by the consistently poor quality she’d displayed earlier.

She might’ve seemed arrogant to some, offering advice after having pulled off just one decent acting stint. But I knew.

Kim Jung-ha would become a superstar who draws audiences of ten million.

A talented actress acknowledged by millions of viewers.

“Ms. Kim Jung-ha.”

“…Uh…?”

“I’ve never really learned how to properly act.”

Hearing my words, Kim Jung-ha blinked her eyes. Maybe she thought the comment came across as pretentious.

“Of course, I have a lot of shortcomings. If anything seems strange, I’d appreciate it if you could point it out to me.”

In my working life, I came to understand something simple: when you don’t know, you ask.

That’s not exactly a universally accepted approach in the professional world.

“Rather, make the effort to find out yourself.”

That was, without a doubt, the phrase I’d heard most often from Manager Kim.

“But, the Kim in front of me isn’t that Manager Kim.”

Well, at least they both share the surname Kim, but Kim Jung-ha isn’t the type to bark back in response to questions. She tried to offer me something despite being somewhat timid.

She’s not unintelligent. She understands that offering unsolicited advice might earn her ridicule, given her own limited acting achievements so far. And yet…

…despite that.

She tried to offer me some guidance.

So, I wanted to hear what she had to say.

“…This is, really, just my personal opinion.”

My statement seemed to get through to her, and Kim Jung-ha stammered on hesitantly:

“Seoyeon’s emotional acting is incredibly good. She’s so young but already incredibly accomplished. Honestly, even I couldn’t mimic her level.”

She pointed at the video playback with trembling hands.

“But emotional acting alone isn’t enough to deliver everything on a small TV screen.”

Her words struck me, wide-eyed.

Ah.

I understand now.

Director Cho Min-tae, too, let out a small gasp in response to Kim Jung-ha’s comment.

“Ah, that’s right. Yeah, that’s the feeling. Miss Sooyeon, you mentioned you’ve never had acting lessons, right?”

“…Yes.”

“Indeed. You’ve never had lessons, I see. That’s why it’s so evident here.”

I felt somewhat embarrassed. I must’ve seemed like an amateur, diving into something I had no clue about.

“Acting isn’t just about emotional performance.”

And frankly, the emotional acting that everyone marveled at didn’t resonate with me for some reason. Maybe it was because it was my own.

Or maybe, because there was still some underlying issue.

But I did understand the problem now.

“Gestures.”

Acting isn’t resolved solely with emotions.

The tone, the inflection of lines, the corresponding actions and movements—all of them work together comprehensively to express acting.

I merely acted out of emotion and the remembered movements from my past life’s child actress, Jiyeon.

Of course, those movements didn’t match me naturally, so it was understandable. While they might appear skilled in isolation, this wasn’t necessarily the perfect act for me.

“But…”

I haven’t truly practiced using physical movements much.

“…If it’s alright, could I teach you just a bit? I’m relatively… confident about this area.”

Kim Jung-ha muttered awkwardly. This was from the mouth of the famed Kim Jung-ha, who had drawn in audiences of millions.

It’s only natural that I, of course, accepted such a generous offer.

“Of course, please do. I’d really appreciate it.”

Emotional acting is most powerful on the big screen, where the expansive visuals, sound, and music deeply stir the audience’s emotions.

But on TV or small computer screens, the impact is significantly lower.

Thus, ‘visual acting’ fills this gap.

“So here, it’s more like…”

Even though the reshoot was set to begin, the crew didn’t express any complaints. They simply observed as Kim Jung-ha demonstrated various actions and watched me quietly.

After about an hour, two hours…

“Alright, let’s resume shooting!”

It was only nearing evening when the reshoot finally got underway. As I stood next to Kim Jung-ha on the set again, I felt my body trembling.

Tension. And anxiety.

Emotions I hadn’t felt during the audition swept over me.

“Can I really do this?”

I had no idea. Honestly, what I learned moments ago was far from foundational training, merely good enough for this ad, a kind of patched-up solution.

“Nevertheless…”

I focused on the camera. Cho Mintae’s hand moved to signal the start of the cue.

And then…

“…Director Cho.”

“Yes?”

“This feels like an outrageous win for the advertiser. It’s ridiculous, really.”

That was how my first filming officially ended.

***

“Hieeeeng, you said mom would pick me!”

“Jiyeon. There’s no need to be so worked up. Auditions don’t hinge on just that anyway.”

“But still!”

Hong Jin-hee sighed inwardly at her daughter who, having been rejected from the audition, appeared to have her confidence completely shattered. It happened a few months back.

“Ugh, who in the world even got picked for that audition?”

While Hong Jin-hee grumbled to herself, in her heart, she already had a suspicion about the child in question.

That day, the child sitting there dispassionately caught her attention.

While all the other children were nervous, this one sat quietly.

“It must be her. There’s no doubt they had it pre-decided.”

That’s why the child wasn’t nervous, she figured.

“Sometimes auditions are pre-decided, that’s the way it goes… Ugh, it’s annoying.”

Hong Jin-hee thought to herself that her daughter might’ve been turned down due to such reasons.

“Her looks?”

No… Actually, her daughter was undeniably adorable, so it must’ve come down to connections.

Hong Jin-hee, thinking this way, consoled her daughter.

“Our pretty girl, let’s stop crying. Pretty soon, you’ll be going to kindergarten now, alright?”

“Hiiieeeeng.”

“Come on, it’s time for your favorite Pinnie Pong.”

With that, she turned on the TV, trying to distract Jiyeon, who seemed to always bring up the audition every time it surfaced in her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

Jiyeon, who’d been waiting for the broadcast of her favorite cartoon, noticed something and spoke up.

“Mom.”

“Hm?”

“I think I’ve seen her before.”

Hong Jin-hee nodded in agreement, as she herself was about to say the same thing.

It was a soy milk commercial for an unheard-of new brand.

“Sister! Is this milk?”

The commercial began with a girl with long black hair whining playfully.

Then entered a vivacious woman who waggled her finger teasingly.

“Surely not~ It’s soy milk that sister bought for you.”

“Soy milk?”

The girl grasped the soy milk, tightly shut her eyes, and sucked it up with the straw, glancing furtively at her older sister. Her cuteness was undeniable.

“Wow! It’s sweet!”

Her face lit up, and the visual effect transitioned, presenting her brightly while she bounced on her toes with a lively bounce, showcasing irresistibly adorable charm.

The bright tone continued with her energetically hopping about. In the meantime, the commercial seamlessly presented the benefits of the soy milk, alongside close-ups of the girl sipping it delightedly.

Pow!

Though colorful and bordering on chaotic, the ad wasn’t overwhelming due to the lead woman and the lively young girl. The way her hand gestures moved cheerfully, her footwork as she linked arms with her sister and twirled around—it all made sense.

“Clear soybeans, pure soy milk.”

The tagline closed the commercial forcefully.

“Mom.”

Only when Hong Jin-hee returned to reality did she realize her daughter Jiyeon was tugging at her blouse.

Looking at her daughter’s pouty face, Hong Jin-hee surmised that she had probably been calling her for a while now.

“So that’s why.”

Hong Jin-hee thought to herself.

If her daughter had been chosen for that spot…

“So that’s why she didn’t make it.”

Despite her daughter being a beloved presence, it seemed like she couldn’t quite measure up to that child.

***

I was exhausted, having dragged myself out early in the morning thanks to Mom.

“Mom, I have low blood pressure…”

“Oh dear, what nonsense. Seoyeon doesn’t have issues like that.”

That may be true now, but in my previous life, I had terrible hypotension, which made moving in the morning something I didn’t enjoy.

“Also Seoyeon, soon you’ll be starting kindergarten, so you need to get into the habit of waking up early.”

“Kindergarten…”

The mere mention of the word made me dread it. What an utterly superfluous and irritating place.

Juso Yool, six years old.

These days, I was starting to wish time would speed up. Even high school might be fun if replayed. Kindergarten, though…

“Mom, it’s fine if we don’t rush so much.”

Rubbing my eyes, I said this to my mom. However, Sua Mom gave me a look like she couldn’t understand how I could say such a thing.

“We were supposed to come out much earlier. If our pretty daughter hadn’t slept so soundly until the sun is high, we would have come out earlier.”

“…”

Hmm, well, I could kinda understand why she was nagging me like this. After all, she has been like this since yesterday.

“Actually, since yesterday, since seeing the commercial.”

Yesterday was the initial airing day of the commercial filmed months ago. Mom was so excited that she even recorded the broadcast.

She even tried squeezing me tightly saying, “Our daughter is a genius!” I nearly suffocated within her large bosom.

“Well, it’s going to be on for a while anyway.”

The soy milk from Garam Dream, “Clear Soybean, Pure Soy Milk,” is just an unremarkable product.

Originally, it was a clearance item that somehow managed to sell decently thanks to Kim Jung-ha’s influence.

“What’s the point of buying soy milk anyway?”

Moreover, given how large the neighborhood mart is, there should be plenty of stock.

But then…

“…Is it all sold out?”

“It’s not just sold out; it was cleared this morning. If I had known, I should’ve stocked more.”

With the regretful tone of the mart’s owner, Mom’s eyes turned to me, filled with blame. So I quietly turned my head.

After all, I never dreamed it’d sell out completely.

***

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