‘Finally.’
Seoyeon flipped the calendar page, lost in a sense of deep emotion.
‘I’m seven years old now.’
Joo Seoyeon, seven years old.
First year of kindergarten.
Truthfully, not much changed just because she turned seven.
Maybe she could feel her body growing faster compared to before?
Starting next year, she would enter elementary school.
And…
‘Huuum.’
There were many aspects to contemplate.
In reality, most of them were related to acting.
Since she had begun practicing in earnest, she noticed quite a bit of her own shortcomings.
She also realized that emotional acting was definitely not easy.
‘A decent amount can be achieved through emotional mimicking, but…’
Actors don’t always express emotions at full intensity.
She thought that for her, mimicking emotions would be enough as well.
At the very least, in this area, she believed she reached a level where there wasn’t much difference compared to adult actors.
‘Still, considering my age…’
Emotional acting comes from life experience.
The younger one is, the harder it is to excel at emotional acting because of the lack of experiences.
But hers was supplemented by her past life.
Chal-chak.
She covered her face with both hands, gazing into the mirror.
‘Facial acting is relatively natural.’
But as she continued studying acting, she noticed other areas where she was lacking.
Small actions, gaze control, and vocal projection while delivering lines.
At least the vocal projection was decent thanks to the practice—around 4 out of 5 points on a scale.
‘I need time.’
Of course, with the filming of *The Moon That Hid the Sun* approaching, she had no time to learn something new.
The best she could do was to maximize her strengths.
Back in the day, being a dedicated VTuber meant she didn’t care about much else, but things were different now.
Who was she? None other than the renowned actress Joo Seoyeon.
She had no wish to waste the talent she carried, gained through her past life.
“Phew.”
Taking a deep breath, she stopped touching her face with her hands.
Looking at her palms, she saw that they were scratched up here and there from practice.
Her eyes in the mirror were bloodshot.
For some reason, they appeared even redder than usual.
As if they changed with the fluctuations of her emotions.
‘…Could it really be?’
Even if emotions didn’t dramatically alter like in dramas, her body had many unique aspects that she’d simply come to accept.
Her unusual strength and the state of her eyes, for instance.
“Alright.”
Now that her mindset had somewhat settled, it was time to practice again—for the sake of Seoyeon’s first real emotional acting at the age of seven.
***
There were two stars at Arongdarong Kindergarten.
One was Jiyeon.
An energetic child who frequently appeared in commercials.
She had a dominant personality, so none of the kids at the kindergarten dared to defy her.
Except one.
“Seoyeon is so well-behaved.”
Teacher Hyun-young of the Flower Class observed Seoyeon with a somewhat envious look.
If only her class’s children were as well-behaved as Seoyeon.
“Well-behaved…is she?”
Teacher Min-a, who taught the Sunflower Class that Seoyeon belonged to, smiled ambiguously.
Seoyeon, the second star of this kindergarten.
Truth be told, Min-a felt a bit sorry for Jiyeon.
There was a significant gap between the two.
Especially after the *The Moon That Hid the Sun* audition aired, there were even people peeking into the kindergarten to catch a glimpse of Seoyeon.
Though such occurrences had subsided, Min-a was still secretly uneasy.
Had any dangerous accidents occurred back then, it would’ve been disastrous.
“Well-behaved, but…what should I say? She’s a peculiar child.”
Even though Seoyeon got along well with the other kids, there was something off about it.
It didn’t feel like she was playing with the other kids as equals.
Rather, it was more like she was ‘playing with’ them.
She even cared for them so well that it sometimes complicated Min-a’s feelings as a teacher.
“By the way, when does her drama air again?”
“The drama where Seoyeon will appear, *The Moon That Hid the Sun*, its premiere date is fast approaching.”
While checking the calendar for the exact date, Hyun-young noticed a date marked in red below.
“Ah, now that you mention it, isn’t the school play coming up soon?”
“Yes, yes. Haha.”
“…Why are you smiling?”
“Hmm.”
Hyun-young frowned at Min-a’s sly smile.
The school play was a sort of proxy war among the kindergarten teachers.
Of course, this “war” was all in fun—just offering snacks to the winning class.
That was all that was at stake for the children.
But for the kindergarten teachers, things were different.
The teacher of the winning class got two extra days of vacation.
Of course, if a teacher forced or overly pressured the children, they might face disciplinary action under the strict supervision of the principal.
This was the real battle among the teachers at Arongdarong Kindergarten.
“Well, I’m planning to visit Jeju Island this time.”
“…We’ll see.”
But didn’t someone say that people who say “we’ll see” are the scariest?
Min-a’s class had not one but two stars.
To use a historical analogy, it’s like having both Guan Yu and Zhang Fei on the same team.
As a side note, Zhang Fei, in this case, was Jiyeon.
“Teacher Hyun-young, the world of competition is merciless, you know…”
Min-a felt confident that even with a simple play, she could easily outperform others.
Thanks to none other than the lead child actress from *The Moon That Hid the Sun*—Joo Seoyeon being in her class.
“Teacher is looking at me strangely again.”
“Are you asking what a ‘strange look’ is? It’s just strange.”
“It’s strange because it’s strange.”
Seoyeon glanced at Min-a upon hearing Jiyeon’s muttering.
Actually, Seoyeon had a rough idea why Min-a was looking at her that way.
‘Hmm…’
Though she felt apologetic, Seoyeon didn’t have any plans to participate in the school play.
She had *The Moon That Hid the Sun* to prioritize, and also, it felt a bit strange for her and Jiyeon to appear in the kindergarten’s school play.
“But I’m going to play a princess!”
“…If you want to, go ahead.”
“I will play it whether you say not to or not.”
Clearly, Jiyeon was eager.
‘Yet why doesn’t her future career as an enthusiastic actor stick in my memory?’
Every time Seoyeon looked at Jiyeon, she had this thought.
Jiyeon was a child with a strong acting ambition.
She wasn’t only shooting commercials now but was also preparing diligently for drama auditions.
She certainly had talent, so landing a few child roles should have been possible…
“So, by the way, where are you signed?”
“Me?”
When asked this, Jiyeon looked at Seoyeon suspiciously.
Was Seoyeon trying to infringe on her territory?
“It’s just curiosity.”
“Hmm… Alright.”
Jiyeon then revealed her agency.
Eunha Entertainment.
Only after hearing this did Seoyeon finally have a rough idea of why Jiyeon didn’t appear on TV much after.
***
The filming of *The Moon That Hid the Sun* was proceeding at a rapid pace.
Unlike before when there were delays due to some of Seoyeon’s issues, now they were swiftly heading toward the conclusion of the second episode—it was almost like the earlier delays never happened.
Effectively, there were fewer than 10 shooting schedules left for the third episode.
“Has Seoyeon ever looked tired, despite all this continuous shooting?”
“Well, we did plan to take some breaks, but…”
The staff exchanged these comments as they observed Seoyeon, who had just finished an intense scene yet still looked fresh as ever.
If anything, Park Jung-woo, who was shooting alongside her, looked more fatigued.
Especially considering the number of scenes Seoyeon shot compared to him, it was quite surprising that she wasn’t the fatigued one.
“Director, should we space out the shooting a bit? It feels like we’re rushing too much lately.”
Director Gong Jung-tae nodded in agreement with the camera director.
He too realized he had been pushing forward too many scenes involving Seoyeon.
“But, well, it’s what the main party wants, after all.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
It had been two weeks ago, hadn’t it?
Seoyeon had quietly approached Gong Jung-tae, stammering a bit before speaking up.
“Director.”
“Yes, what is it, Seoyeon?”
“If… if it’s okay with everyone else…”
Seoyeon, with a somewhat apologetic expression, asked for something surprising.
To summarize, it was about finishing the delayed episodes more quickly.
It was a commendable request, but also one that overstepped boundaries.
It was unusual for actors—especially child actors—to give such suggestions to the director.
However, since Seoyeon wasn’t someone to make frivolous requests, Gong Jung-tae decided to hear her out.
Then Seoyeon began her explanation calmly.
“Looking at the script, there seem to be two emotionally intense scenes.”
“S#24 and S#32, right?”
“Yes.”
As Seoyeon spoke clearly, Gong Jung-tae couldn’t help but marvel at how mature this seven-year-old was.
He didn’t have kids, but compared to the cousins he saw during holidays, this child was on a different planet.
In terms of attitude and vocabulary.
Anyway, Gong Jung-tae could roughly understand Seoyeon’s reasoning.
“Seoyeon, surely…”
“It’s a secret. After that scene, I might need some time before the next one, so…”
Seoyeon’s hesitant tone indicated she realized it was somewhat inappropriate.
It was especially significant since one of the scenes was with Jeong Eun-seon.
After the previous trouble they had, Gong Jung-tae wasn’t particularly pleased about it.
‘Since then, she hasn’t said anything.’
Perhaps, watching how well Seoyeon acted afterward, he thought it was fine.
Although there was a subtle unease in her demeanor, she hadn’t commented on it.
‘The older generation can be complicated like that.’
Over the past few years, things had improved in terms of child actor treatment, but there had been issues.
There had been times when child actors were exploited or yelled at on set or during performances.
Hence, there were dedicated managers to oversee the well-being of these young performers.
Though Jeong Eun-seon wasn’t one of those problematic people, her speech could sometimes be too sharp for disciplining children.
‘Still…’
It was probably wise to deny Seoyeon’s request.
Honestly, pushing herself so hard wasn’t necessary since her current acting was already good enough.
Yet, he was curious to see what level of acting Seoyeon might achieve after going to such lengths.
“Let’s see the results first before making a decision.”
“What?”
“Meaning, if Seoyeon’s suggestion is for the sake of acting… I’d like to see the acting itself before we can discuss further.”
After all, setting the filming schedule was up to him.
Whether it was Seoyeon’s request or not, any decision made would ultimately be his responsibility.
Even so, Gong Jung-tae wanted to see her act.
“…Alright.”
The moment Gong Jung-tae finished speaking, Seoyeon closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She still needed time to gather her emotions.
And…
“…Wow.”
After Seoyeon finished her acting, Gong Jung-tae couldn’t help but be convinced.
This was worth trying at least once.