The Script-Eating Actor – Chapter 8

Ch 8

About a dozen actors sat around a long, circular table.

Production staff, managers, and the direction team sat on chairs along the sides, while the director and main writer occupied the head seats.

To their left and right were Song Mun-gyo and Soyoon, the lead actors, and interspersed among them were the supporting actors, including me.

A kind of stillness hung in the air.

Only the reporters there to submit press releases and the staff filming the making-of video broke the silence of the quiet reading room as they moved around.

The sunlight streaming through the large glass windows was so bright that the assistant director lowered the blinds. That was the cue for Director Moon Byung-chul to speak.

“Well, before we start the reading, how about we do a quick round of introductions?”

The amount of material we would be reading today covered episodes 1 through 4.

Though it was only four episodes, it would probably take us more than half a day.

“I’m Moon Byung-chul, the director of .”

Following Director Moon Byung-chul’s introduction, the writer stood up and bowed her head.

“I’m the writer, Kim Hye-suk. is a story that the director and I spent many sleepless nights agonizing over. Just thinking about how the characters that only existed on paper will come to life through you all already makes me excited.”

The writer had a subtle strength that emanated from her small frame, and she spoke with such elegance. After that, the actors’ introductions naturally followed.

“I’m Song Mun-gyo, playing the role of ‘Lee Woo-jin’.”

“Hello! I’m Soyoon, playing the role of Min Soyoon! The writer was kind enough to let me use my real name. I’ll work hard to make sure I don’t tarnish my name!”

“I’m Kim Gyun-o, playing the arrogant chaebol son ‘Kim Gang-hyeok.’ I don’t need anything else, I’ll just memorize my lines well.”

“Hahaha!”

With Kim Gyun-o’s witty greeting, everyone’s eyes turned to me.

I felt a strange sense of nervousness.

This was an important occasion with even the CP in attendance.

“I’m Do Jae-hee, a rookie actor playing the role of ‘Kim Do-hoon.’ It seems like I’ve been given a role that’s bigger than my abilities. I will always approach it with humility.”

I didn’t try to stand out. Instead of laughter, applause erupted. Director Moon Byung-chul also couldn’t hide his pleased expression.

“Good, good.”

After the actors finished their introductions, the staff introductions followed.

There were so many people that the introductions alone took more than 10 minutes, and I listened intently to each and every one of them.

I continued to enjoy this moment, being in this place as an ‘actor,’ something I had so desperately wished for.

“Well, it seems like the introductions are mostly done… shall we start the reading?”

“First, let’s read scene 1 of episode 1.”

The assistant director began reading the stage directions, and the reading of episode 1 began.

“Spring of 2009.”

Song Mun-gyo, Soyoon, and Kim Gyun-o appeared in the opening scene, riding a train and returning to their dazzling yet fragile high school days.

Kim Gang-hyeok, an arrogant high school student with a congressman father, always gets away with his misdeeds. But, in contrast, Lee Woo-jin, a dirt-poor kid with nothing but guts, takes the blame for all of them.

Soyoon, a high school girl, is between the two men. She is their first love.

“Like you said, Gang-hyeok was my friend, so I was blinded by that fact. No one in the neighborhood messed with me, I rode an expensive motorcycle, and when I drank and smoked, girls followed me around. It was my world. But you know what?”

Song Mun-gyo began reciting the lines I had first spoken when I had used my ability. It was the highlight of episode 1, an important scene that fully revealed the sorrow of the underprivileged.

“Even in that chaos, I was different. Gang-hyeok, who was doing well, was my friend, but I was a fatherless bastard, the son of a single mother who sold tteokbokki at the market, and now, at twenty years old, I realize that the world Kim Gang-hyeok and I live in, which I thought was the same, is completely different.”

As Song Mun-gyo’s emotional scene ended, Director Moon Byung-chul raised his hand, signaling a pause.

“Um, just a moment, Mun-gyo-ssi. How about you try to hide your emotions a bit more?”

A reading isn’t just a place to rehearse lines.

It’s a place to verify how well the actors can embody the colors of their roles, and where the director guides the direction and characters. From the actors’ perspective, it’s a place where they can ask questions if they have any doubts about the script and agree on all the character settings before filming begins.

It seemed like Song Mun-gyo hadn’t expected Director Moon Byung-chul to point out his lines, as he stared at the director with a bewildered expression and asked.

“…Hide them?”

“Yes. Right now, Mun-gyo-ssi, you’re revealing too much emotion. It sounds like you’re saying, ‘I’m here!’ These are lines spoken in front of a girl you like, shouldn’t they be more shy and shameful?”

“…..”

Song Mun-gyo had been dealt a blow.

A proper one, in front of everyone.

He didn’t have the guts to argue with the director in that setting, and he started reading his lines again with a flushed face.

“Hmm.”

Director Moon Byung-chul didn’t seem too pleased, but he seemed to be letting it slide for now.

Soyoon’s acting was just like her real self. She was smooth and natural.

On the other hand, Kim Gyun-o was different.

If he had acted just as well as he looked, the rookie award this year would have been Kim Gyun-o’s. But, decisively, his acting was lacking.

“…Ah.”

I felt sorry for him.

It made me realize that there was a reason why the term ‘recognition casting’ existed in the drama world. His skills were far too lacking for a sub-lead role.

“I’m Kim Gang-hyeok. Did you forget?”

He had to play a charming villain and a sub-lead with a two-faced personality, but his face was cold while his lines were too innocent.

“Hmm.”

Director Moon Byung-chul’s face also turned displeased, and the expressions of the senior actors sitting next to me also darkened.

‘Is the fate of this drama really in the hands of these people?’

They seemed to be saying that.

I mentally counted down to my turn. I appear in the last scene of episode 1.

The scene where I visit Song Mun-gyo’s （Lee Woo-jin）’s house and become his drinking buddy.

I quietly recited the lines that came before mine. The lines floated into my head.

“Scene 43. Woo-jin’s house. Woo-jin is squatting on the floor, chewing on dried snacks and soju. He has an anxious face. Then, there is a knock on the door.”

I followed the assistant director’s stage directions.

Knock knock knock.

I tapped the table lightly with my fingernails and said,

“Woo-jin-ah.”

My script was closed, and I didn’t even glance at it.

My gaze was solely fixed on Song Mun-gyo, who was sitting diagonally across from me.

This was a thoroughly intentional action.

When Song Mun-gyo met my gaze, he glanced at the script and began acting while making eye contact with me.

“…Is that Do-hoon?”

“Yeah. Open the door quickly.”

It was childish, but it was my way of surviving.

Because this world is a world where you can only climb up by stepping on someone else.

Just like Song Mun-gyo had stepped on me.

I glared at Song Mun-gyo with my eyes, perfectly delivered my lines, and shouted inwardly.

‘Say your lines quickly.’

*

When the reading of episode 1 ended, an hour had already passed. Although the director had interrupted the reading with comments here and there, it took too long.

“Let’s take a 10-minute break.”

Director Moon Byung-chul announced a break, and we were given 10 minutes.

But during the 10-minute break, Director Moon Byung-chul approached me instead of going to the restroom.

“Jae-hee-ssi, did you already memorize all the lines?”

“Yes.”

“…Even though it’s a revised script? That quickly?”

“I prepared diligently.”

“You didn’t memorize all the way up to episode 4, did you?”

“That’s right.”

“…..”

“…Jae-hee-ssi, I didn’t think you were like this, but you have a really tough side to you?”

Then, Oh Mi-ran, a senior actor sitting next to me, playfully questioned me.

“If Jae-hee-ssi is like this… it makes it seem like we aren’t working hard enough.”

“Haha, that wasn’t my intention, I’m sorry. It’s embarrassing, but… I don’t have any other projects going on right now. But unlike me, the seniors are busy, aren’t you?”

“Hehe, well, that’s true.”

With my appropriate praise, Oh Mi-ran’s face softened.

I had drawn everyone’s attention.

The director, the CP, the staff, and the actors, everyone.

‘A thoroughly prepared actor who memorized the script even before the reading.’

This would become my nourishment.

“Alright! Director, let’s go have a cigarette. Oh, right, was it Jae-hee?”

“Yes, Senior.”

“You were good at acting, huh? Do you smoke?”

“If you go, Senior, I’ll follow you.”

“Hehehe. You’re witty too. Alright, let’s go have a smoke.”

The fact that this industry is small is known by everyone in Korea.

Why a well-known actor in Korea suddenly disappears, or how a rookie who no one has ever heard of suddenly appears on all three major broadcasting stations.

In the end, it all starts from these small images.

Actors who fail to manage their image disappear, and countless hungry rookies come charging up, aiming for their spots.

Of course, there are many cases where box office power overwhelms personality, but at least Song Mun-gyo isn’t an actor of that ‘rank’.

I was the protagonist in this scene.

In the subsequent reading of episode 2, the situation was similar.

“Uh, where was it? I, I’m sorry. I missed my line…”

“Scene 10, page 24, the first line. ‘You were the one who didn’t answer the phone first.’”

“….Huh?”

“D, did you just say that without looking again?”

It was almost like a circus act, the way I could pinpoint the exact page number for the assistant director and the actors who were struggling and wandering around, missing their stage directions.

“Look. He’s got the script open to a completely different page. He’s following the flow accurately just by listening.”

Soyoon’s face was filled with fear.

“S, scary.”

“…Wow. At this point, shouldn’t he just set up a fortune-telling mat?”

Kim Gyun-o muttered in disbelief, but I stared at the air with an indifferent expression.

But how could I help it if the lines just came to me on their own?

Okay, now it’s my turn.

I looked directly at Song Mun-gyo and said,

“Hey, Lee Woo-jin. Don’t be so cocky. I’m not the same person you used to know anymore.”

Very clearly.

“…..You.”

Then, Song Mun-gyo’s eyebrows twisted strangely. But I shouted first.

“Ah, I messed up. That’s not the line, is it? I got confused.”

“…Ahaha, is that so?”

“Jae-hee-ssi makes mistakes too. Good! That human side of you. It can happen. Take your time and look at the script.”

By making an intentional mistake, I showed my human side while simultaneously scratching at Song Mun-gyo’s insides.

An excuse called lines, and.

“Hey, Woo-jin-ah. It seems like you should be careful from now on.”

Because there’s someone who’s closely chasing after you.

“….”

An excuse called acting.