How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor Chapter 80

Chapter 80

 

The name of the character I would be playing in this movie was Dogeon.

He was the longtime boyfriend of the female lead, Yeonhee.

Having started dating in high school, the two had somehow become a couple with ten years under their belt.

‘Ten years.’

Long enough for even rivers and mountains that seemed eternal to change.

What would it be like to stay with one person for ten years?

The message that ‘What I Loved’ wanted to convey to its audience was simple.

How much of the person you first fell in love with still remains today?

Would I still love someone the same way after time had changed them into a different person?

As for my answer to that question…

‘How the hell would I know….’

 

***

 

I’d spent my life focusing solely on making money and had never really been in a proper relationship.

Romance was something completely foreign to my life.

So how was I supposed to act in a romance movie?

‘Pretending to be smitten would be easy enough.’

Back when I appeared on ‘Wise Hot and Cold Bath’, I’d acted as someone’s boyfriend during a hidden camera segment.

If it were just that sort of performance, I wouldn’t have been this troubled.

‘But this time, being sweet isn’t enough.’

This was a girlfriend he’d been with for ten years.

No matter how lovestruck you were, you couldn’t treat someone you’d dated for a decade as if you’d just fallen in love with them yesterday.

‘Comfort. Trust. Familiarity.’

Countless emotions accumulated over a long time.

They must have gone through several slumps.

There were probably times they’d wondered if they truly loved each other anymore.

‘Maybe it’d be different if they had met later in life.’

But Dogeon and Yeonhee met as teenagers, before they had fully formed their identities.

And the early twenties were the period in life when everything changed the most.

Values.

Career paths.

Preferences.

Habits.

Everything could change completely.

‘Love is easy to shake, even without hardship.’

And then, for the sake of the movie’s story, Dogeon and Yeonhee were hit with an enormous tragedy.

At twenty-five, Dogeon suffered a horrific accident.

Though he survived, he was diagnosed with…

Incomplete Spinal Cord Injury.

His spinal cord had been partially damaged, leaving some sensation and function intact.

In Dogeon’s case, his lumbar spine had been injured.

Fortunately, his lower body wasn’t completely paralyzed.

His legs had weakened drastically after the accident, but the mere fact that he could still walk made his doctor call it a miracle.

However, the miracle bestowed upon Dogeon was painfully realistic.

‘He only looked normal on the outside.’

It wasn’t just that walking was inconvenient.

He could manage short distances alone, but whenever he had to walk for long periods or wasn’t feeling well, he had to rely on a wheelchair.

But what tormented him most were the secondary symptoms.

He would wake up repeatedly in the middle of the night because his legs felt like they were burning.

His bladder no longer functioned properly, making even going to the bathroom something beyond his control.

Eventually, the hospital added more diagnoses.

Neuropathic Pain.

Autonomic Dysfunction.

The names sounded impressive enough.

The symptoms didn’t.

The severe pain remained even after taking painkillers, destroying his sleep quality.

Various organs malfunctioned, and the list of things he had to be careful about in daily life became endless.

His life had changed completely after the accident.

And with it, his personality changed too.

The cheerful man who used to say, “Let’s just try it first!” disappeared.

Years of chronic pain and discomfort slowly wore Dogeon down.

And the emotional journey of Yeonhee, who stood beside him through it all, was the true highlight of the movie.

‘This is too hard.’

I was practicing seriously since I was getting paid, but I still felt lost.

I’d read the script enough to wear it out, but I still couldn’t grasp it.

“What do you think, Noona?”

“Hm?”

An hour before the script reading, I asked Bae Dain, who was diligently studying her own script.

“If you were really Yeonhee, would you stay by Dogeon’s side?”

“Hmm…”

As she thought about it, Bae Dain unconsciously raised her fingernails to her mouth.

Seeing that she was about to bite them, I stopped her immediately.

“Tsk.”

“Ah, thanks! Haa… I really need to fix this habit.”

Smiling awkwardly, she answered.

“If I were Yeonhee… I probably would’ve broken up with him long ago. You have to think rationally.”

“But they had already been together for six years when the accident happened. Could you really think rationally with six years of memories?”

“…Sigh, that’s not an easy question. It’d actually be easier if he’d turned into a complete jerk.”

Bae Dain tapped the open script with her finger.

Her long finger landed on the name ‘Dogeon’.

“His pain made him sensitive and lethargic, but he never treated Yeonhee badly.”

“He’s always apologizing because he knows she’s suffering because of him.”

“Exactly~ That’s why I think it’s cruel. Dogeon is an innocent victim and a good boyfriend. If Yeonhee asks to break up, it’s basically abandoning him.”

Telling an innocent boyfriend you wanted to break up was never easy.

If he’d cheated or verbally abused her, she could at least use that as an excuse.

But Dogeon was nothing like that.

‘The more we talk about it…’

I’m not sure this is actually a good character.

Could a truly good person hold onto someone who’s suffering because of them?

Watching someone you love grow exhausted while pretending not to notice, simply because you’re afraid of being abandoned…

Was that really love?

‘This is seriously hard.’

I’d rather play a domestic abuser who beats his only younger sibling.

Or an old-fashioned boss who constantly asks his junior coworkers when they’re getting married.

‘Who said acting was easy?’

Who said putting on a mask in front of customers wasn’t any different from acting?

‘Oh right… that was me.’

I wanted to beat my past self for saying something so thoughtlessly.

There really was no easy money.

“Ten minutes until we begin!”

Before I knew it, the reading room had filled with people.

I’d already greeted Doho hyung, the other actors, and the staff, and everyone was casually flipping through scripts amidst the slightly noisy atmosphere.

“Seulho, aren’t you nervous?”

“Not nervous.”

Just hopeless as hell.

But Bae Dain, unaware of the words I swallowed, looked envious.

“Well, your last project was Director Jang’s work.”

“What exactly are you nervous about? Director Baek’s reputation? Or being the lead actress?”

“Both? Hehe… but mostly it’s because of the character’s age.”

“Age?”

Seeing me raise an eyebrow in confusion, she awkwardly explained.

“Yeonhee and Dogeon are both almost thirty.”

“That’s true.”

“All the characters I’ve played so far were younger than me. Of course, I’m twenty-six and Yeonhee’s twenty-nine, so it’s not a huge difference… but I’m worried I’ll seem too immature.”

Ah.

That made sense.

‘People worry about things like that.’

As someone who had lived to thirty-five before rejuvenating, playing someone nearing thirty wasn’t difficult at all.

Though I understood, I couldn’t help but ask.

“You’re not worried about the personality difference? You and Yeonhee are complete opposites.”

“Eh~ That’s actually fine.”

Her reaction seemed to ask why I would even question that.

“Why? Wouldn’t it be harder if they’re opposites?”

I was struggling with that very problem.

Playing villains had come naturally to me, but trying to portray someone who wasn’t hot-tempered meant worrying about countless details.

But Bae Dain’s next words struck me like a hammer.

“Actually, I have a harder time with characters similar to me. My own expressions and gestures keep coming out on their own, so I can’t act cleanly.”

That’s why she preferred characters completely different from herself.

By creating a persona with no connection to her real self, she could immerse herself without distractions.

And with that, the fog blocking my thoughts disappeared instantly.

‘…Right.’

Until now, I’d simply imitated the villains I’d seen in real life.

That’s why this role was so difficult.

Ordinary people who had suffered sudden accidents like Dogeon were unlike anyone I’d ever known.

I lacked references to imitate.

‘Then don’t imitate. Just create him from scratch.’

Such an obvious answer finally shattered the dam that had been blocking me.

“Five minutes until we begin! Please take your seats!”

Even as the staff called out, my mind didn’t stop.

The Dogeon I’d practiced over the past several days had been assembled from the expressions and gestures of countless actors.

A character made by piecing together everything that looked pitiful and emphasizing his goodness as much as possible.

‘Forget all that. Start with a blank slate.’

I erased the eyes, facial expressions, and tones of every actor I’d borrowed from.

Then I recalled Dogeon himself.

The Dogeon I’d read about obsessively.

The face of a man who had experienced things I never had.

The expression of a man who had loved in ways I’d never loved.

The voice of a man living a life I’d never lived.

Even his inner thoughts, which I’d imagined hundreds of times to imitate him better.

One by one, I assembled the puzzle pieces.

I became so focused that I didn’t even realize the reading had started.

Tap.

Bae Dain nudged me from beside.

My mind snapped back instantly.

When I looked up…

Everyone in the room was staring at me.