In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 7

That’s how I ended up spending the week my schedule suddenly opened up.

At Seowon Arts University.

It was a turn of events I never expected.

‘Emergency! Final Exams D-5!!!’

The notification I saw first thing in the morning was truly chilling.

It was the end-of-semester final exam reminder that the me from twenty years ago had set up.

“Right, I was a college student.”

That’s how I arrived in front of campus, and the sensations of being in my twenties that I’d forgotten came rushing back like a wave.

The cold but clear December winter air lingered around the school.

Countless students showing off their individuality passed by in front of campus.

From students carrying various instruments to students showcasing trendy fashion and outdated fashion, students gathered on the lawn practicing choir, even professors smoking with students.

My heart pounded at the campus scenery I was seeing for the first time in twenty years.

“What brings you here, what brings you here. Han Sena.”

But as I approached the lecture hall, the repertoire from twenty years ago I’d forgotten repeated itself exactly.

The stares scanning me from the entrance were vicious.

When I entered the classroom, my classmates greeted me with congratulations.

“Treat us, Han Sena. Let’s go to the cheap bar today!”

Cheap bar—I laughed at the nostalgic term.

We really were people from the old days, guys…

At the same time, several sarcastic remarks poured out.

“I thought now that you’re a celebrity you wouldn’t even come to school. Surprising.”

“You’re going to act even more superior from now on.”

The whispers were sharper than I expected.

Back then, I’d shrunk a bit at these reactions…

But now, this much was nothing.

After rolling around in the industry for twenty years, I’d experienced more psychological warfare than battles on land, sea, and air combined.

“It’s a makjang drama, that show. What’s so great about it.”

Then a sharp jab caught my ear.

“That’s not real acting. Can you even call reenactment acting work acting?”

“Exactly, it’s an embarrassment to the acting department. And on some cable channel.”

Oh, those are some lines.

I turned around to see familiar faces.

Among them, one girl’s face that stared right at me without avoiding my eyes looked familiar.

That’s… Kim Eunseo, I think.

She was a classmate famous for being street-cast based on her face alone.

She’d never even acted before being cast, but she had a natural talent for bringing atmosphere to productions with just her face.

I remembered her swaggering around quite a bit after getting moderate success with a drama.

But wait, is me passing an audition really something to be this angry about?

Then a memory flashed through my mind—ah, right.

Kim Eunseo had been next in line after me at the <Flat Shoes> audition.

Twenty years ago, on the day I savored my first debut while suppressing my overwhelming emotions, Kim Eunseo had ground her teeth watching me.

My classmates had tipped me off about this fact.

Back then it had just been gossip…

Kim Eunseo kept mocking me.

“A trashy makjang with no artistic merit.”

I stared at Kim Eunseo steadily.

Since her audition slot was after mine, she never even got a chance to show her acting.

But even so, this isn’t right.

To make such disparaging remarks just because she didn’t get cast.

When she must have prepared hard too.

As Kim Eunseo opened her mouth again, this time I struck first.

“Hey.”

Kim Eunseo glared at me with an offended expression without answering.

“Can the acting department really disparage all reenactment actors and makjang dramas like that?”

“Oh my, did I hurt your feelings? Because it hit close to home?”

Kim Eunseo smirked.

I smirked back at her.

So this is what they mean when they say newborn calves don’t fear tigers.

After rolling around in the industry my whole life, someone with Kim Eunseo’s level of attitude seemed almost cute.

“If I’m at the level of a reenactment actor… then what are you, someone who failed the audition for a trashy makjang?”

Kim Eunseo’s pupils shook at my words.

“What?”

The friends sitting next to Kim Eunseo looked at her with startled eyes.

“You auditioned for Flat Shoes too. If it’s just some makjang drama and I’m at the level of a reenactment actor who isn’t even a real actor, why did you audition for it?”

Silence fell over the classroom.

Kim Eunseo’s face immediately turned bright red.

Watching that, I thought what a waste her exceptional looks were.

Looks are a talent too.

Thinking back, Kim Eunseo had shot a few CFs with her exceptionally pretty face, then within a few years was consumed by acting ability controversies.

In the end, Kim Eunseo couldn’t quiet the acting controversies and gave up on being an actress, slipping away from the industry.

“With a face that pretty, why are you so desperate to tear others down? If I were you, I’d hole up in a practice room knowing how pretty I am and sharpen my blade for my debut.”

At my words, Kim Eunseo pushed back the table and stood up.

“Are you saying I’m some amateur who relies on my face?”

Kim Eunseo’s sharp voice filled the classroom.

That’s not what I meant. Why suddenly…

As if some button had been pressed, Kim Eunseo instantly approached and raised her hand over me.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Do I have to get slapped by some little brat at my age?

I reflexively shrank back, but a long shadow fell between the two of us.

Someone smoothly caught Kim Eunseo’s wrist.

I slowly opened my closed eyes.

“Hey, noonas. Why are you doing this here?”

A cheerful, tall man pulled Kim Eunseo away from me.

I looked carefully at the face that was more boy(?) than man.

“…Seon Yuseok?”

“Noona, are you okay?”

I was briefly dazed seeing a face I hadn’t seen in so long.

Speaking of Seon Yuseok…

Tall with a tiny face, easygoing eyes and a gentle impression, with a voice to match—he was the type who attracted popularity.

Right after his debut, he became quite a hot topic thanks to this face.

“Eunseo noona, why are you making life hard for someone working hard, hm?”

Kim Eunseo shook off Seon Yuseok’s hand.

“Fine, let’s see. Let’s see how Flat Shoes turns out. Before that, your luck will run out and your real skills will be exposed next week anyway.”

With those words, Kim Eunseo stormed out of the classroom.

My head went numb watching Kim Eunseo’s retreating back.

“What’s… next week?”

At my words, Seon Yuseok raised his eyes.

“Sunbae…? Our final play.”

I slowly turned my head to look at Seon Yuseok.

What did you just say?

Only now did the notification I saw this morning come to mind.

“Ah.”

“How do you forget the end-of-semester play performance, sunbae? You’re really out of it!”

Speaking of the final play…

It was a classic work I’d completely forgotten about.

Not only was there a massive amount of dialogue, but there was the modern reinterpretation, the emotional delivery befitting a classical drama—every aspect was a challenge.

I’d suffered through it twenty years ago too.

“Ugh…”

A shiver suddenly ran through me.

“Noona?”

“Our team… it’s the Hamlet adaptation, right?”

“Yes.”

Question marks kept appearing on Seon Yuseok’s face as he looked at me.

I had a feeling, and… yep.

It’s not a drama where you can reshoot if you get an NG, but a live play.

And that’s exactly one week from now.

Plus I’ve lost my touch with stage acting ages ago.

This isn’t the time for me to be doing this.

Just then, the professor opened the classroom door and entered.

“All right, is everyone’s performance prep going well?”

I hurried to my seat.

My head was spinning.

* * *

Right after class ended.

I rushed out into the hallway planning to practice right away, and Seon Yuseok followed me.

“Sunbae, I was pretty reliable earlier, right?”

Seon Yuseok kept chattering, oblivious to my urgency.

“Wow, how did I block that hand so perfectly? I’m like a prince on a white horse.”

Get back on that white horse and leave.

My head was noisy enough without all this chattering being annoying.

But Seon Yuseok’s friendly approach seemed a bit strange.

Weren’t we not close originally…?

Seon Yuseok and I had only exchanged light greetings at school.

Actually, I’d been like that with everyone, not just Seon Yuseok.

The so-called outsider.

I’d always found it more comfortable to not have friends in the first place.

After we both debuted, we only knew about each other through the media.

So why now?

‘That Seon Yuseok guy, he’s like a ghost at telling apart people who’ll be useful to him from those who won’t.’

Words someone had told me long ago suddenly came to mind.

‘He only acts friendly with people who can pave his way forward.’

Seon Yuseok casually started talking.

“So sunbae, could you maybe look at my audition prep?”

…So that’s what it was.

Did he calculate me as someone who’d be profitable, just like the rumors said?

“But Yuseok, even if I passed an audition first, I’m still a student too?”

“Either way, you’re my audition sunbae. Noona.”

“Could you… stop calling me noona?”

Goosebumps suddenly rose on my arms.

I rubbed my arms vigorously.

Watching me, Seon Yuseok laughed as if amused.

“So this is your character, Sena noona.”

“Hm?”

“I seem like an annoying character, right? Like a leech.”

Seon Yuseok smiled awkwardly.

“If you know, that’s enough. I’ll help with practice.”

“Really…? Noona, you have to keep your promise!”

Whatever the case, having myself suffered through countless rumors during my villain career, I didn’t want to judge people based on rumors alone.

And it was true that I appreciated him blocking me from getting slapped earlier…

Seon Yuseok grabbed both my hands firmly.

“Noona, thank you so much. Really.”

Sincerity dwelled in his eyes.

He looked somewhat pitiful somehow.

Because I knew how desperate Seon Yuseok was to improve his acting skills.

Seon Yuseok was also a case like Kim Eunseo—he blew up thanks to his looks then got beaten down for his poor acting.

After a fairly long hiatus, Seon Yuseok reinforced his acting skills and became a hot topic with his 180-degree transformation.

Around his mid-thirties, he naturally rose to the ranks of top actors.

However, no one but him would know how dark a time he spent during that hiatus.

“First… let’s finish the play and then see.”

I smoothly pulled my hand from Seon Yuseok’s grasp.

* * *

The weekend passed in the blink of an eye.

Over the weekend I memorized lines, practiced, recorded and watched myself…

The school life that hadn’t been easy was engraved in my bones once again.

Final exams the moment I came to my senses.

It’s a good thing my body is at least young.

The <Hamlet> we’d be performing today was one of Shakespeare’s four great tragedies, a rite of passage that art university students in acting departments go through at least once.

The role I was assigned was Ophelia.

Ophelia was a woman who, amid the palace people blinded by desire, lost her father to the man she loved and went mad, losing her mind.

In the play, Ophelia takes her own life, and her death embodied the youth, purity, and immaturity this character symbolized.

Ophelia’s death became the essence of countless artists’ creations, spawning many paintings and poems about a girl who drowned.

The most important aspects of the performance were these two things: how richly you could convey the rigid classical drama with emotion, and how you would interpret and reveal the character’s symbolism.

The important elements for evaluating an actor’s capabilities in theater performance were truly difficult like this.

And I was secretly a bit curious.

What would my stage acting be like doing it again now?

While warming up backstage, Professor Lee Seongjin gathered the students on stage.

“All right, it’s the Hamlet team today, right? You all prepared hard, so don’t be nervous on stage today. Enjoy it to your heart’s content!”

“Yes!”

Everyone gathered in a circle and put their hands in the center.

Kim Eunseo, playing Gertrude, glanced at me and smirked.

She still seemed completely miffed.

Even during today’s rehearsal, she didn’t even look my way the whole time, just put on her own performance.

And that too, half-heartedly, as if she didn’t want to show everything in rehearsal.

That’s not good…

How does she plan to do it without even matching our rhythm?

But I kept my mouth shut, worried that saying even one word might cause an incident like last time.

Above all, at that age, pride comes before everything else.

It wasn’t that I completely didn’t understand Kim Eunseo like that.

Whether in the classroom or now, my feelings were the same.

It wasn’t dislike or hate, just pity.

For now, I need to do well myself.

The performance hall seats quickly filled up.

Watching the performance hall overflowing with that vivid sense of presence made my heart pound pleasantly.

This was the charm of theater.

The heart-racing sensation I’d forgotten was blooming anew.

The performance began.