Anyway, gotta call it guts, right?
The team leader stared at Moo-young, momentarily at a loss for words. He'd seen countless web drama auditions, but this was a first.
"...That's some resolve you've got there."
And look at those earnest eyes. Even for an actor, there wasn't a trace of pretense—just pure sincerity.
The other participants sitting in a row next to him snickered inwardly.
'Why go that far?'
'Unbelievable. If he hogs the spotlight like that, what about the rest of us?'
Honestly, plenty had shown up with light hearts, just to gain experience or because it looked fun. Web dramas were treated far more casually than regular ones, which was only natural.
'The CEO would've been head over heels.'
But right now, the whole company was staking everything on this project. With everyone of like mind banding together to fight tooth and nail, there was no room for half-hearted attitudes.
"Well then, we'll be looking forward to it. Here we go."
He could already picture the boss making a huge fuss over Moo-young's determination.
"From now on, please act out the lines we'll hand you. Then proceed to free acting. Keep the total time under three minutes max."
The team leader nodded to a staff member.
The A4 paper had a short script printed on it. Moo-young realized it was an excerpt from the actual production.
[Alley / N]
[Student enters, lifting the street food tent flap.]
[Student: (face worn out from exhaustion) Hello. You open?]
[Protagonist: Take a seat. What'll it be?]
[Student: (handing over a five-thousand-won bill) The most popular thing, this much please. No tteokbokki or sundae. Something adults eat.]
[Protagonist: (puzzled) What do adults eat?]
[Student: (slightly irritable tone) That's for you the owner to know, not me.]
"Start from number 76."
It was short, meant to fit within three minutes. Moo-young quickly scanned the script, grasping the key points. Starting with the N notation.
Usually, day was marked D for Day, night N for Night.
'Night, street food stall, and a student. Perfect.'
Moo-young immersed himself in an instant and delivered the line, each syllable dragged out weakly, as if scraped from his throat.
"...Hello. You open?"
"...!"
It had been a pleasant baritone just moments ago! But the voice from Moo-young was ragged, shredded like sandpaper.
'What was that just now?'
'How does his voice change like that?'
'Whoa, scared me.'
As the staff stirred, Moo-young pressed on without pause.
"The most popular thing, this much please. No tteokbokki or sundae. Something adults eat."
He slowly closed his eyes, then opened them. A tiny motion, but it explained everything.
'A weary high schooler's night. Asking if they're open means it's deep into the night. Or maybe his first time at a street stall. Why's he here? What kind of life does this kid have...'
Universes exploded in Moo-young's mind. The character's life unfolded from every angle in the stage directions. And he empathized deeply, as if it were his own.
It was all instinctive, unconscious.
"...That's for you the owner to know, not me."
The line came with a surge of rebellious fire in his eyes. Moo-young dipped his head slightly. The mild-faced boy was gone, replaced by a student ground down by life.
"N-Now, free acting—"
"Sorry."
The staffer checked the stopwatch to announce remaining time, but Moo-young flowed seamlessly into the next line.
"I-I'm just so tired, that's why."
He rubbed his eyes with his palm, mumbling. Everyone gaped, dumbfounded.
'Is he... continuing the script right now?'
Complete possession. He had melted fully into the character.
Moo-young wiped a tear, staring blankly ahead. He could feel the bubbling warmth of the street stall's heat, the sleepiness, the simmering broths, the orange glow of the lights.
"I was curious, you know. Why people skip normal bars and drink at street stalls. What's so special... But now that I'm here, I get it. It's warm."
Moo-young smiled faintly. He cleared his hoarse throat, listening to an unseen interlocutor, then responded.
"—Sure. That then, please. Extra spicy. Yeah. Rough day today. Stress built up till it burst."
Moo-young murmured flatly, lips pressed tight as he met the team leader's gaze.
One second, two, three... Time ticked by, but the room stayed silent.
"Hasn't the time run out?"
"Huh? Oh—s-sorry!"
The timing staffer flustered at Moo-young's words. Had he even factored in the overrun? The numbers showed 3 minutes 25 seconds, and he glanced nervously at the team leader.
"All good."
"Uh, wait. Hold on."
As number 77 stood to go, the team leader waved him back down with apologies.
Moo-young fiddled with his flushed cheeks, emotions still simmering.
"The free acting was continuing the script, right?"
"Yes. Correct."
"From imagination?"
The team leader twirled his pen. It wasn't an S-grade script prone to leaks or anything—just curiosity.
'Pretty spot-on, huh?'
'Yeah. Even if the lines differ, the progression and setup match.'
How had he nailed the unseen parts? As staff whispered, Moo-young's eyes darted.
"...Is that a problem?"
"No, no! Go ahead, speak freely."
At the team leader's wave-off, he cautiously opened up.
"For starters, a student hitting a street stall at night isn't normal. It proves how tough his day's been."
Slowly, the character's life poured from Moo-young's lips.
"Asking if they're open upon greeting shows he's pretty mature. So even exhausted and snappy, I figured he'd apologize right away."
Yeah. Most kids wouldn't ask that.
"Asking for just five thousand won's worth—not everything—hints at tight finances. Similar circumstances make you grow up fast, right?"
In that short time, he'd pierced the character's core from the stage directions alone.
The team leader leaned forward, hooked.
"And?"
"...Asking for adult food. Thinking back to my own case..."
That age on the cusp of adulthood. Life so hard he just wanted to grow up and escape. His gaze had drifted to adult-only things.
"—So on a night he couldn't go home, I imagined him impulsively entering a street stall—familiar like home, yet the adult world."
"The spicy part? He asked for extra spicy."
"Best for stress."
Moo-young had lived on spicy food amid entrance exam hell.
"I especially favored spicy chicken ramen."
Casually dropping insights as if no big deal. A nearby staffer laughed in admiration.
"You should write or be a critic, not act."
"No talent there. But thanks."
"Like you were possessed. How'd you extract every detail?"
Tongue-clicking murmurs. Perfect analysis, timing, and he loves their PPL spicy chicken ramen! Coincidences piling up felt like fate. The team leader sensed a powerful revelation.
"You've got real sense. Great observation and imagination. How long have you been acting exactly? This would be your debut if cast?"
He'd fully turned toward Moo-young at the end, voice brimming with interest.
"Yes."
"Filming's mostly nights. That okay?"
"Ahem."
Staff coughed at the blatant question. With 77 through 80 still waiting, the team leader backpedaled.
"Standard question for everyone. No issue?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah."
"No problem."
They answered, but faces soured. No wonder—after that performance...
'Ugh, annoying.'
'Why first thing?'
'We're done for.'
No chance now. The vibe had tilted completely.
Moo-young pondered his schedule, then nodded.
"Nights are fine for me."
Dorm closed at 11 p.m., opened at 6 a.m.—worst case, pull an all-nighter outside. Chasing flower pollen luck, that was no hurdle.
"Perfect."
The team leader's lips curved in satisfaction. He scribbled stars all over Moo-young's application with his pen.
Scribble-scribble—
'The CEO's got a knack too.'
Jo Mi-young had muttered her firm belief in unearthing a gem. And here it was—looks, acting, sense, all in one.
"Now, number 77."
The team leader gestured to hurry. They'd already burned time on Moo-young. The audition resumed, but...
Predictable as fire burning paper, right?
'Anyway—'
Participants repeating no chance after Moo-young's divine acting.
'Anyway—'
Staff's odd vibe signaling episode one's supporting role was locked.
Cursory acting and questions flew by like watermelon rind skims.
'This audition's fun. Think I did pretty well? Heh.'
Only Moo-young, oblivious to the shift, grinned brightly, wondering what flower pollen fortune lay ahead.
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Read 170 more chapters ahead on NovelDex!
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