Chapter 46

“Hyejin! Please turn and speak toward this side a bit more. Your face isn’t clearly visible.”

The formal stage rehearsals had officially begun.

Throughout the process, they literally bit into the script, tearing it apart, tasting and interpreting every line.

Going through the reading process was fundamental.

Approximately six weeks of practice, eventually aimed at achieving the goal of performing without mistakes in the play.

A perfect stage.

That is, after all, the most basic requirement a play should meet as a product.

“Seoyeon.”

“Yes.”

Assistant director Kim Cheong-woon stroked his chin as he looked at the girl before him. Normally, in a play, an assistant director was responsible for guiding the actors’ performances. So, among the many actors Kim Cheong-woon had seen over the years, Seoyeon was special.

The prodigious child actress, Joo Seoyeon.

The actor’s skill was far beyond Kim Cheong-woon’s expectations—not just in a good way, but remarkably so.

“Your acting still feels close to TV drama style, but you’re clearly riding the emotional line well.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“But it would be better if your movement lines improved. Your handling of gaze and motions are really good.”

“Movement lines? Exactly where…?”

Seoyeon asked, wondering if there was indeed an insufficient part in her movement.

“You remember that monologue part where you look at Cheong-seok Sim? I want you to cross the stage while delivering it.”

“But wouldn’t the monologue part have too much movement?”

“The heightened emotion will be more evident that way. And, please try to make your monologue feel like a conversation with the audience.”

A conversation with the audience.

Seoyeon nodded after hearing this.

‘Does she get it?’

These nuances aren’t something that can be instantly understood just by explaining them verbally. Even for someone as talented as Seoyeon…

“Okay! Let’s try it once.”

With Kim Cheong-woon’s words, Cheong-seok Sim approached nearby.

“Alright, then.”

Following his cue, Seoyeon calmly adjusted her emotions. The character, Hong Jeong-hee, who stalks the idol Baesung-hak.

Reading the emotional surface of her character, she exhaled.

“…It’s amazing seeing her perform like this, isn’t it?”

Method acting.

Though such a term exists, what Seoyeon was doing now was different. There was still a faint trace of “Seoyeon” left within her performance.

When questioned about it, Seoyeon replied,

“It’s because this is a rehearsal.”

“I’ll make sure to try it more properly during the actual rehearsal.”

‘If she does it properly during that part, how far will it go?’

Kim Cheong-woon had recently re-watched the drama where Seoyeon had acted in long ago. The level of emotional acting was so profound it was almost overwhelming, even for someone of her age at the time. This was probably Seoyeon’s greatest strength.

However, ironically, such emotional acting doesn’t always translate as well in a stage play. Seoyeon’s emotional acting is extremely detailed, requiring the screen to be zoomed in to fully appreciate its nuance, but in a stage play, those subtleties may not be perceived fully from the seats.

They might not be visible from afar, and it’s harder to convey those intricate emotions. Thus, the gestures, movement across the stage—these two aspects are crucial but somewhat contradictory to method acting.

If one is fully immersed in the role, the gestures or movements can sometimes come off as awkward. Therefore, the necessary “craft of theater” inevitably needs to be incorporated. Seoyeon’s practice was the process of blending it as naturally as possible.

“Can’t believe it. Why… Why is an older brother like you meeting a woman like her?”

Her delivery was crystal-clear, directed toward the audience. Kim Cheong-woon was seated among the spectators, observing how Seoyeon moved naturally across the stage as per his instructions.

Her monologue carried the sense of talking directly to the audience, exactly as he had requested.

“How was it?”

“It was excellent.”

After finishing her performance, Kim Cheong-woon gave Seoyeon a thumbs-up. Watching talented actors was a joy.

Still…

Kim Cheong-woon hesitated momentarily over whether he should voice his thoughts. After all, it wasn’t a major issue if left unsaid. In fact, things felt complete as they were.

“Please take a short rest while I check the other actors.”

“Okay.”

With these words from the assistant director, Seoyeon stepped back, but…

‘Is something wrong?’

Kim Cheong-woon’s reaction felt odd. If there were flaws, he would have pointed them out already.

“…”

After pondering for a while, Seoyeon approached Cheong-seok Sim, who had shared the stage with her earlier.

“Ah, you mean that?”

He immediately seemed to understand.

“There’s not really a problem, but it feels like there is.”

“What do you mean?”

Seating himself and crossing his legs, Sim pressed his temples with his thumb as he contemplated how to express it.

“Your affection is lacking.”

“…What?”

“Think about it. Why does Hong Jeong-hee stalk Baesung-hak?”

“Ah.”

Seoyeon finally comprehended what he was getting at.

“The creepy atmosphere, the sense of inferiority, and the disdain for Song Min-seo—all of that’s very well conveyed, right? But the affection for Baesung-hak isn’t strongly felt.”

“Yes, it is.”

“To be honest, I personally don’t think it’s an absolute necessity in this play. If you try to do too much, it might end up being neither here nor there.”

For now, it’s better to emphasize the dark emotions Seoyeon is displaying. Sim had spoken accordingly.

Perhaps, this could simply mean, “You’re already doing quite well enough with what you’re showing.”

His attitude now felt different from when he had been earlier instigating her.

“…Why are you glaring at me?”

“I’m not glaring. This is just how my eyes always look.”

“No, you are.”

“Yes, I am.”

Seoyeon’s defiant nature made Sim chuckle softly.

“Nevertheless, this is sufficient. Don’t overthink it.”

This was enough.

Though he was right, Seoyeon felt slightly wounded in her pride. Especially since this was an unusually considerate remark coming from Sim, it made her feel worse.

‘But…’

Affection acting, huh.

Seoyeon bit her lower lip gently.

This was a valid point.

Unconsciously, she had been excluding that emotion.

‘Somehow, I’ve been feeling it.’

Affection acting is essential in dramas and movies alike.

It’s a required element; one cannot avoid it by simply wishing to.

The lack of it might be fine for Hong Jeong-hee, but it doesn’t mean this would apply to her future roles indefinitely.

‘This requires some thought.’

Being someone who straddles the line between male and female genders made this performance more challenging. The act of portraying affection for someone else was particularly difficult for someone who excelled in method acting like Seoyeon. It was an issue she couldn’t avoid.

***

Yeonhwa High School in Seoul.

Known for its modern buildings and beautiful uniforms, it was a school where students focused more on arts and athletics rather than academics.

Among them, the theater club had a particularly high standard as it included both active actors and aspiring hopefuls.

“Jiyeon! Oh my, our esteemed actor!”

Ms. Song Da-yeon, the club’s advisor, rushed over like a butterfly and firmly grabbed Jiyeon’s hand.

“…What is it?”

“Oh, don’t act so distant.”

Jiyeon frowned.

After suggesting she visit the theater club after a long while, this was the welcome she received upon her arrival.

‘Clearly, there’s something she wants to ask,’ thought Jiyeon.

Reading her expression, Ms. Song Da-yeon cleared her throat and continued.

“Great news for you! Remember that variety show [Past, Memories Revisited]?”

“I don’t know it.”

“…Huh, you probably haven’t heard of it, right?”

Could the show really be that unpopular?

Despite this thought, she continued.

“They’ll be filming here at the school. It’s a show where they revisit famous past works. This time around, they’re staging a reenactment of The Moon That Hid the Sun.”

“That’s right!”

“But, what does that have to do with me…?”

“Of course, who else would play Princess Yeonhwa if not you?”

As Ms. Song Da-yeon said this and looked at the other students, they all seemed disappointed at first, but soon nodded in agreement. After all, Jiyeon was the club’s top student in achievement, acting ability, and appearance.

“Princess Yeonhwa?”

Jiyeon’s face betrayed some ambiguity.

It was a role that felt oddly familiar to her.

‘Is Park Jung-woo coming?’

If true, the internet would go wild. After all, the high school’s name was ‘Yeonhwa.’

This felt like a celestial arrangement.

‘The rough outline is to reenact Chapter 8 of the original.’

Chapter 8 contained the reunion scene. It was the episode where the grown-up Yoon Seoil and Lee Hye-wol meet again.

Naturally, it had explosive ratings and received considerable praise, though…

‘There were many criticisms too.’

This was the period when actress Ha Ye-seo, playing the grown-up Princess Yeonhwa, faced a lot of backlash. People said Yeonhwa lacked presence compared to her younger counterpart, not fitting the role well.

This criticism hadn’t changed much even now, and Ha Ye-seo occasionally mentioned it, saying how hard it had been to be compared with the child actress.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“But, could we bring someone from my management company? I want proper makeup done.”

“Of course, it’s fine.”

Jiyeon nodded. And she smiled faintly. An interesting thought had occurred to her.

***

A large van sped down the road.

Inside, a casually dressed man with an eye mask had his eyes closed.

“Jung-woo, we’re almost there, so please wake up slowly.”

“…”

What a hassle.

This was originally a shoot Park Jung-woo had no real interest in. But…

“Please, just once! I pleaded so hard!”

A favor from an acquaintance he had accidentally met at a previous shoot. Added to that, it coincided with his resting schedule, so he decided to help out.

“Does [Past, Memories Revisited] plan to cover dramas and variety shows both?”

“That’s right. Since you’re appearing as a guest, it’d be a shame just to do one.”

“Ah, why does this keep happening to me?”

“And you’re Park Jung-woo!”

The hottest actor today. His next movie was already decided.

Even the lead character.

It was a well-funded film with an excellent director.

His path in life was seen as smooth sailing without any thorns by everyone.

“Is it really a good decision to revisit The Moon That Hid the Sun at this stage? Doesn’t this seem like a bad idea for this show?”

“Don’t be so harsh. Still, it’s quite a meaningful role for you.”

“…That’s true.”

To the words of his 5-year manager, Ha Hyung-hwan, Park Jung-woo nodded.

A meaningful role.

‘What is that person doing now?’

In Park Jung-woo’s acting career, the number of times he had been profoundly impacted was few and far between.

The girl he met during the filming of The Moon That Hid the Sun was one such experience that remained vivid in his memory.

Her acting.

Her sudden retirement.

“The girl crying at the awards ceremony.”

A child without expression who found acting boring. A girl who shattered his self-esteem as a child actor for the first time.

And the sight of her standing before everyone, crying, even laughing—all of it was crystal clear in his mind.

Sometimes Park Jung-woo thought,

Would it have been better if he had tried to persuade her to continue acting?

Would it have been better to have told her it was such a waste to stop?

Had he done so…

‘All of it is in the past.’

While lost in thought, he realized the van had already stopped.

He felt the manager’s gaze from behind.

“Jung-woo?”

“Okay.”

Wiping away the vision of the girl that had surfaced in his mind,

He slowly opened the van’s door.

As soon as he did so,

A cacophony of cheers erupted from the gathered students.

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