Episode 33

 

For the next week, Park Haeun threw himself into preparing for the audition as if he were a student cramming for exams. By the time the day of the audition arrived, his acting stat, which had emerged at 4 after his first acting class, had risen to 6. 

 

Considering that he had spent almost every waking moment memorizing the script, this wasn’t surprising. However, for someone like Haeun, who had never experienced any increase in his pre-existing stats since entering the game, this was a remarkable improvement.

 

Haeun was used to attending schedules with his fellow members and stylists, so the experience of taking a van alone to the audition was unfamiliar. 

 

Since bringing a stylist or manager into the audition room would likely spark rumors of an unknown idol using their agency’s backing to pull strings, his manager was only there to drop him off and would pick him up later. Haeun didn’t care either way, as he didn’t feel like bringing anyone with him.

 

He spent the entire ride with his nose buried in the script, not exchanging a single word with the manager. 

 

Was this newfound determination the result of his competitive spirit kicking in, or was he genuinely finding the acting practice enjoyable? Either way, the level of focus he had was surprising, even for someone like him, who had never once cracked open a textbook right before an exam.

 

Just before getting out of the van, Haeun finally checked his phone. As usual, Ilhyun, who had helped him practice his lines every day, had sent him a message of encouragement on the morning of the audition. 

 

Haeun replied, promising to do well, remembering how Ilhyun had juggled playing the female lead, male lead, and even the second male lead all for his sake.

 

Next, he checked the group chat. To his surprise, both Junwoo and Seongjae had sent messages as well.

 

[Junwoo]  

(Emoji of a cat cheering)  

Park Ha hyung~ Don’t cry if you don’t make it~ Fighting!

 

[Seongjae]  

We’re preparing a rejection party, so don’t worry

 

Such affectionate and adorable members. 

 

After silently cursing at the group chat’s teasing comments, Haeun slid his phone back into his pocket without replying. 

 

As the van stopped in front of the audition venue, the manager gave him a look of concern, similar to that of a parent dropping their child off at a college entrance exam.

 

“Do your best, Park Ha. This audition isn’t everything in life. Just give it your all.”

 

The encouragement felt more like the manager had already accepted his failure, assuming he wouldn’t pass. It seemed no one believed he had a chance. 

 

But it was understandable. Haeun had no acting experience to speak of—not even a minor role in a web drama. The fact that he was even auditioning was likely only possible because of his agency’s influence.

 

‘But still, this role is perfect for me.’ 

 

He thought, holding onto that conviction as he stepped into the audition venue.

 

The waiting room was crowded with other hopefuls. He stuck the number tag given to him on his chest and found a seat among the others. As he settled in, he could feel a few people’s eyes on him. Were they recognizing him? 

 

Normally, as an unknown idol, no one would bat an eye. But after his recent brush with minor (and unfortunate) fame, it wouldn’t be too surprising if a few people recognized him. Especially considering they were also from the entertainment industry.

 

The other actors auditioning for the same role as Haeun looked fresh-faced, just like him—likely newcomers as well. They all seemed to be around his age, which made sense since they were auditioning for the role of the female lead’s younger brother. It looked like the casting team was aiming for someone with a youthful and innocent image.

 

Honestly, Haeun felt he had a fair chance among them.

 

“Number 19, please come in.”

 

After what felt like a long wait, a voice called his number. He checked the sticker on his chest to confirm that he was, indeed, number 19, then walked confidently to the door marked “Audition Hall.”

 

He wasn’t particularly nervous. Compared to the overwhelming feeling he had the first time he stepped onto a stage, this was nothing. He wasn’t usually one to get nervous anyway, and that first performance had been an exception due to how dire the circumstances were.

 

Recalling that day gave him a sense of calm. With his shoulders squared and a confident stride, Haeun entered the audition hall.

 

Haeun scanned the five people seated at the table, all there to judge the audition. He didn’t recognize anyone, but luckily, they had placed nameplates on the table, detailing their roles: in the center was the director, flanked by the writer, the producer, and the actress who had already been confirmed for the lead role.

 

‘Wow, actors really are on a different level.’

 

Haeun felt a subtle sense of awe as he glanced at the lead actress. Her presence radiated something different, even while sitting silently.

 

After a quick moment of admiration, Haeun straightened up and gave a sharp, well-practiced bow. It was the kind of greeting that had been drilled into him as an idol. 

 

“Hello! I’m Park Haeun!”

 

As an idol, he was always required to introduce himself as “Stone Cherry’s Park Ha,” but now, it felt refreshing to introduce himself using only his real name.

 

His eyes lingered on the writer, curious about the person who had reportedly taken a liking to him. She didn’t seem to stand out too much at first glance, but Haeun was eager to impress.

 

The director spoke up in a neutral tone with almost no emotion. 

 

“We’ll have you perform two scenes. One where you interact with your sister, and one with a different character. You can choose which specific scenes you’d like to perform.”

 

“Yes!” Haeun responded enthusiastically, flipping through the script with quick, deliberate movements. A scene with his sister and one with another character… 

 

The role of the female lead’s younger brother, ‘Soohyung,’ was actually a relatively substantial supporting role. He wasn’t just there as comic relief; he was a key player in propping up the main storyline. This was more than Haeun could have hoped for. 

 

However, what caught him off guard was the personality of the character—different from what both he and Ilhyun had originally guessed.

 

Soohyung was indeed a playful, doting younger brother… but only to his sister. To everyone else, he was sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and a bit of a jerk. 

 

But what shocked Haeun most was how well the character’s manner of speaking aligned with his own. The role seemed tailor-made for him. The way Soohyung delivered lines, his tone, and attitude—it was almost like Haeun had been living as this character all along. 

 

Aside from the fact that the script’s language had been cleaned up for network television, it felt as though Haeun wouldn’t even need to alter his natural delivery.

 

Haeun’s newfound confidence wasn’t just blind optimism—it was grounded in a legitimate feeling that this role was meant for him.

 

Haeun had selected the scenes he wanted to perform, called out the numbers, and received the cue to begin. 

 

It was a scene he memorized perfectly but performing in front of an audience without a scene partner felt strangely awkward. In rehearsals, Ilhyun had always filled in as his opposite, so acting alone now highlighted just how much he had relied on having someone to bounce off of. The acting coach’s advice to practice solo now made complete sense.

 

After a brief hesitation, Haeun decided to take a chance. He lowered the script and spoke up, still confident despite the slightly awkward atmosphere. 

 

“Honestly, it feels a bit odd to act this out alone. Would it be possible for you, sunbaenim ^[1] Sunbaenim means senior. , to read Kim Sooyul ^[2] If you haven’t noticed, Sooyul and Soohyung are siblings so both of their names start with Soo. Not every siblings have that in Korean culture but some do. ’s lines for me?”

 

It wasn’t a shy or hesitant request. If they declined, he would have managed fine by performing a solo act, but if they agreed, he’d gladly accept the assistance. However, the director and producer exchanged puzzled, almost judgmental looks. 

 

Haeun began to feel embarrassed, thinking he had overstepped by making such a request in the first place. He quickly tried to think of a polite way to withdraw the suggestion when, to his surprise, the lead actress, Ham Dabi, answered smoothly.

 

“Sure, why not? Let’s start.”

 

“Ah, thank you so much.”

 

Haeun replied sincerely, though his simple words seemed to only deepen the puzzled expressions on the faces of the others in the room. Did they expect him to be more formal or over-the-top with his gratitude? Should he bow deeper or express his appreciation in a grander way?

 

Before he could dwell too long on it, Ham Dabi began reading her lines, immediately embodying the character. She even mimed opening a door as if entering the scene.

 

“I’m here.”

 

“Hey, Noona. You’re here now?” 

 

His voice mixed a warm welcome with a hint of annoyance, implying a reprimand for arriving late. Ham Dabi responded casually, “Sorry for being late.”

 

“What took you so long? It’s not like today was supposed to end late at the company or that there was a dinner gathering. You made me worried.”

 

He continued, maintaining a tone that felt more like an interrogation than concern. The script merely indicated ‘worried,’ but Haeun’s personal interpretation added a layer of pressure to the delivery.

 

Ham Dabi seemed slightly taken aback at first, but she quickly composed herself and smiled. 

 

“I just had some work to take care of. Did you eat?”

 

“What’s wrong with your complexion? What kind of work made you late?” 

 

His voice rose slightly, prodding for details. Again, the script only suggested he should ‘look at Sooyul’s face with concern,’ but Haeun felt compelled to add a more pressing tone to his questioning. He bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before lowering his voice, now filled with an unsettling seriousness. 

 

“Is it because of that person again?”

 

“…….”

 

Ham Dabi appeared uncomfortable, refusing to respond. 

 

“Can’t you just stop seeing him?”

 

He spoke with a slight irraited tone, scratching the back of his head as if he was barely holding back his frustration in front of his sister. 

 

Sooyul spoke with a tone that felt both soothing and scolding.

 

“I told you before, it’s because of work. I can’t help it. And it’s not what you think, so you don’t have to worry.”

 

“How can I not worry?!” 

 

He raised his voice sharply, his pent-up emotions spilling over.

 

Sooyul’s surprised expression faltered momentarily, and it was only then that Haeun realized he had raised his voice. He quickly softened, letting his shoulders slump slightly as he continued in a more subdued tone. 

 

“…We’re siblings who only have each other.”

 

With that statement, silence enveloped the room. This marked the end of the first scene Haeun had chosen to perform. There were certainly more impactful moments in the dialogue between the siblings, but Haeun believed this particular exchange best represented their relationship.

 

The director, who had been jotting down notes, broke the silence in a matter-of-fact tone. 

 

“Thank you. Let’s move on to the next scene.”

 

“Yes.” 

 

The judging panel turned the pages of the script without any visible reaction. However, Haeun remained composed and focused. Since this was his first audition experience, he had no real basis for assessing the atmosphere in the room.

 

More importantly, the next scene he had selected was one he felt very confident about. It didn’t involve a tense confrontation with the male lead or an impactful dialogue with the supporting male character. The counterpart in this scene was merely an extra who would pass through.

 

“Do you need a partner again this time?”

 

“No. It’s a scene where I bump shoulders with someone, so having a partner wouldn’t really work.”

 

It seemed that Ham Dabi took his answer lightly, as she laughed, easing the tension in the air. Haeun took a deep breath and mentally recited his lines one last time, preparing himself for the upcoming performance.

• 1. Sunbaenim means senior.
• 2. If you haven’t noticed, Sooyul and Soohyung are siblings so both of their names start with Soo. Not every siblings have that in Korean culture but some do.