INT Ch1

He looked at the camera. The round lens, bulging out from the black hood, looked like the eye of some unknown, enormous creature. Choi Soogyeom fixed his gaze on that eye and curled his hands up from the tips of his fingers.

From the center of his forehead to behind his ears, if he concentrated with the feeling of wrinkling his eyebrows, the veins in his temples would rise. To make the tips of his fingers tremble, he needed to put strength in the crook of his arms. He placed both hands on either side of his face, being careful not to cover his features too much. The man in the script that Choi Soogyeom embodied in front of the camera was a soul going mad from the sin of taking over another’s body. A climax where he stared straight at a face in the mirror that was not his own and repeats self-hypnosis.

“See, I told you it would be like this. See…”

He subtly adjusted the intonation of the repeated “See.” His manner of speaking, voice, and tone must be completely different. The man’s habit was to say the same thing twice. Even though it was a habit he had before the accident that put him in another person’s body, he suspected that perhaps the original owner’s soul left in this body was echoing his words.

“See, see. I’m not afraid of this echo. After all, I hold the life. Me! Not you. Me!”

Choi Soogyeom was confident in his vocalization. A clear and distinct voice that pierced the ears was one of the many advantages he had as an actor. As the scene of being consumed by madness and spewing out a roar of anger approached, his chest was elated, and confidence filled him so much that his lower abdomen felt stiff.

This time, it feels like it will go well. He had the illusion that a spotlight had fallen from somewhere. It was the thrill of when the image in his head matched perfectly to his fingertips. He inhaled. Once is enough. If he got just one chance, he wouldn’t be greedy after that.

“Someday, this echo will…!”

“Yes, thank you for your hard work.”

It was as if a giant crevasse had appeared beneath his feet. His hand, stretched out into the air, stopped abruptly. Choi Soogyeom could not believe what he had just heard and only blinked. The director, reading his bewilderment, confirmed it for good measure.

“Let’s stop here. You can leave through the door you came in.”

Choi Soogyeom swallowed hard. The audition task was &Act out a scene from a male lead movie released in the last 5 years&. They didn’t reveal anything about the role they were trying to cast through the audition. Since he couldn’t know what kind of character they were looking for, it was a scene he chose with the strategy of showing the most difficult character.

In an audition, one cannot dare to object to the director or add words that were not asked for. But he felt a greater regret than ever before. If he could just get to the next line, if he could just show that performance where the man, screaming until his throat was torn and crouching, soon lifted his head with completely cold eyes…

“So… Choi Soogyeom?”

The director, who had been hesitating for a brief moment, spoke in a rather kind voice to Choi Soogyeom. Only then did Choi Soogyeom come to his senses and raise his head.

“…Ah, yes.”

“What you just did was the ending scene of ‘Coexistence’, right? The one Yoon Yichae starred in.”

“Yes… that’s right.”

“Choi Soogyeom, your number was 56, right? But we’ve seen that scene fifteen times now.”

“…”

Low laughter erupted from among the staff sitting in a row. Choi Soogyeom belatedly scanned the faces of those lined up on either side of the director. Their eyes, full of boredom, fatigue, and weariness, did not hold any hopeful signs.

“So, that’s why, don’t be too… negatively? Don’t feel too bad about it.”

“…It’s not that.”

“Okay, we’ll contact you. Thank you for your hard work.”

A piece of paper passed from the director’s hand to the right. It was the profile that Choi Soogyeom had stayed up all night filling out and submitting.

“Next person, please come in.”

A famous director with awards from overseas film festivals is looking for a new actor to cast in his new movie. There were, of course, countless unknown actors who rushed in, lured by this dreamlike news. There must have been just as many who made the same plans and had the same pipe dreams. Choi Soogyeom turned around blankly.

“Oh, Choi Soogyeom.”

The voice flew in the moment he grabbed the doorknob. Surprised, he turned around, and the director was making a subtle expression.

“This is just me… um, telling you this out of goodwill. Like advice.”

“Pardon? Yes.”

Choi Soogyeom quickly turned his body back and stood up straight. The young director waved his hand as if there was no need to do that and then stroked his lips.

“Choi Soogyeom, you’re doing the exact same acting as Yoon Yichae.”

“…”

“I wanted to watch until the end if possible, but it’s just that I can’t tell if I’m watching Yoon Yichae or Choi Soogyeom, so it makes me feel bad. You practiced with a purpose, right?”

“…”

“If you copy it this perfectly, it’s hard to see it as just imitating someone else, but it’s going to be hard to make a good impression anywhere. I see you’re twenty-seven? Good mask, good voice, clean body line, good acting… What’s missing that you haven’t been able to shake off being unknown until that age, do you think?”

The director, who had been spewing words like a burst dam, scratched the side of his head with a pen. Only after seeing that did Choi Soogyeom realize that he was waiting for his answer and hurriedly moved his lips. However, he couldn’t produce a single coherent word. Exactly the same acting. It feels bad. The late age of twenty-seven. The fragmentary criticisms were piercing his heart one by one, making him confused.

“I’ll be honest. Choi Soogyeom, you won’t get good results in this audition. But I hope you don’t just dismiss my words. Each and every thing you have is so good, but it’s a shame because it seems like you’re using your talent in a strange direction, so I’m telling you this because I feel bad.”

“Ah…”

“Yes, you can go now. Thank you for your hard work.”

“…Yes, th-thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Choi Soogyeom, who bent his back as if his forehead would touch his knees, hurriedly turned around. His nape was damp with cold sweat that had soaked through. As he walked down the hallway with a dazed face, he felt the relieved gazes of the waiting applicants. Thank goodness, it looks like he’s screwed…

‘You’re doing the exact same acting as Yoon Yichae.’

Yeah, he screwed up spectacularly. As soon as he stepped outside the building, the cold wind chilled his ears. Choi Soogyeom shrugged his shoulders and clenched his teeth tightly. The encroaching despair made it seem like his vision was already turning pitch black.

“Isn’t that just a roundabout way of saying you did well?”

Bongwon, who put down the soju bottle cap with a clatter, offered unconvincing comfort. Choi Soogyeom shook his head and sighed deeply.

“The director said it himself. I got rejected.”

“I don’t understand… If you did the scene that Yoon Yichae filmed so exactly that he couldn’t tell it apart from Yoon Yichae, isn’t that just awesome? What’s the complaint?”

“How would a washed up, old, unknown actor know the great intentions of the young, great director?”

He overturned the soju glass and poured the contents straight into his mouth. There were disgustingly few customers in the gopchang restaurant on a weekday night. Of course, the food was also bad. Choi Soogyeom thought that being able to make gopchang stir-fry this bad was also a talent.

Perhaps bored, the store owner turned up the TV volume. Choi Soogyeom absentmindedly glanced at the small monitor hanging on the wall. The channels, which had been switching back and forth, stopped abruptly at a public broadcast entertainment show. It was a rare solo emcee talk show these days. Yoon Yichae was sitting in a seat facing the emcee in a fancy dress.

“Hey, he’s no saint either.”

Bongwon, who turned his head following Choi Soogyeom, snorted. Choi Soogyeom stared intently at Yoon Yichae’s face, which filled the monitor, without answering.

[Yichae, so this is your first time doing a solo talk show?]

[That’s right.]

[Why haven’t you shown your face so much? How long have your fans been waiting?]

[Haha, to be honest, the company didn’t give me these kinds of jobs. I’m always someone whose mouth is itching to talk, but I guess they were worried about that.]

Loud laughter erupted from the audience. Even watching from outside the monitor, it was a mystical sight. The attention and affection of everyone in that space was focused solely on Yoon Yichae.

“But he really doesn’t age. Isn’t he almost forty?”

“Forty, my ass… He’s only thirty-two now.”

“Oh, really? He’s younger than I thought? I’ve been seeing him for so long that I thought he was quite old.”

That’s understandable. Choi Soogyeom rested his hand on the rusty stool and tilted his head deeply. He also remembered him, who had caused a sensation as soon as he debuted as the child actor of the male lead in a weekend drama at the age of sixteen. There was a legend that viewers, captivated by his fragile and beautiful appearance, sparkling eyes, and tearful expression, called the broadcasting station as soon as the episodes with the child actor ended, demanding that Yoon Yichae be featured more somehow…

Sixteen years this year. Contrary to the envious curses that he would undergo a reverse transformation as he got older, Yoon Yichae had maintained his beauty as it was and had built a career full of substance, and now he had become an irreplaceable actor.

“When I look at him…”

Choi Soogyeom muttered in a hoarse voice. The alcohol he had drunk after a long time was quickly spreading throughout his body, making him a little dizzy.

“I wonder if Klimt could have had him as a model if he were alive…”

“What are you talking about?”

Klimt would go crazy for his face… Only after adding that in a mumble did Bongwon nod, saying, “Ah, I see.” That weird painter who drew golden pictures?

“Come to think of it, haven’t you ever seen Yoon Yichae in person? They say he’s much more handsome in person than on TV.”

“Well, I don’t know if you should say he’s better than on TV…”

He had seen him briefly. It was on the set of a weekend drama he had appeared in as a minor role. It was a long distance away, but he recognized him at once. There seemed to be a commotion in the distance, and then Yoon Yichae, whose head was sticking out higher than the people around him, walked in.

Neatly combed hair, a face without makeup, and dressed in a black shirt and cardigan, yet it seemed as if time was flowing slowly only around him. It wasn’t simply a matter of being pretty, handsome, better than on screen, or worse.

“He didn’t seem like a person.”

“Huh?”

“He felt like a ghost… or a spirit. A creepy sex appeal that seemed like he would bewitch people, steal their souls, and take their livers…”

There were many actors who gave off an inanimate feeling like a doll because their facial features were too perfectly sculpted. The general characteristic of these people was that their acting was also inanimate. When you think about it, it’s only natural. The probability of being born with a great appearance as a human is already slim, so how easy would it be to have talent as an actor on top of that?

“He looks really kind on screen, though. Look at that, the way he folds his eyes and smiles like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He actually has a very cold impression. His eyes are cold, but his pupils are moist, so it’s strange. Oh, and his body is better than I thought. He’s got quite the upper body.”

“…Is that a compliment or not…”

Yoon Yichae was a little different. In his debut work, what became the most talked about was, of course, his appearance, but the in-depth acting that no one expected from a rookie child actor was also one of the factors in his success. During his child actor days, there were many people who tried to belittle him in any way they could. However, after hitting consecutive solo lead roles in movies after the age of twenty and becoming an actor with a total of 30 million viewers, no one dares to wield a measuring stick at him anymore.