“Mmm?”
Who’s this guy?
I hadn’t seen him on my first visit. Now he was smiling brightly at me.
He didn’t look like someone to take lightly.
“You’re Siwoo, right? We have similar names. I’m Seonwoo—Kim Seonwoo. This time, I’m playing the role of Yeonseop in Rooftop House People. Let’s do our best together, okay?”
“Mmm? So you’re the lead actor?”
“Haha, yeah. I’m the lead.”
“Mmm.”
I figured as much. Usually, I can sense how good an actor is just by how they speak. The way he called out to me earlier felt different; I suspected right away he wasn’t ordinary. Turns out he’s the lead.
I gave the slick-looking Kim Seonwoo a quick once-over. He still looked pretty young, yet he was the star of this show. Interesting. Definitely worth keeping an eye on.
While I inspected his long arms, legs, and tiny face, someone far off gave a round of loud applause.
“All right, let’s begin today’s rehearsal! But first, let’s introduce our new face who’s joined the troupe.
Siwoo, come on up here.”
Flap, flap.
I was wearing the new sneakers Mom bought me so I wouldn’t slip, and they made a funny sound with each step. People tended to give me glances when I wore them outside, but I kind of liked the attention. Lately, I’d been wearing them often.
‘Whom did he inherit this attention-seeking nature from? He’s a different breed, I swear.’
That’s what Uncle said, holding my hand as we walked.
“Oh my gosh, how cute.”
“Siwoo’s officially been cast?”
Look at that—all eyes on me as I passed by.
I straightened my shoulders, stepping confidently next to Gang Yong-hwi.
“Hello.”
I did a little bow, hands over my belly, and a flood of “awws” washed over me.
Heh, seems that bow is always a hit. Smiling in satisfaction, I finished my greeting.
“Starting today, Han Siwoo here will be joining us as ‘Yeong-soo’ in Rooftop House People. Let’s give him a round of applause!”
Spurred on by Director Gang’s big voice, everyone clapped enthusiastically.
“Thank you, thank you.”
I gave another bow in return. Gang Yong-hwi then grinned and said,
“So, how about we kick off today’s rehearsal with a scene featuring Siwoo? Everyone on board?”
“Sounds good!”
“Absolutely!”
Hearing the troupe’s enthusiastic support, I smirked, lifting one corner of my mouth.
My heart was pounding in this small body of mine. It’d been a while since I stood on any stage. I could feel excitement fluttering inside.
Pop.
The bright lamp I found so fascinating earlier now illuminated the center of the rehearsal room. The other lights were turned off, leaving the corners dark. Those not in this scene were sitting together quietly off to one side. The actors, including me, who were in this scene stood in the opposite corner, waiting to enter.
Finally, rehearsal started.
“Ugh, look at him. Wandering in here like he owns the place.”
“Unbelievable. Do you have a sheet of metal for a face or what? Is that it, you want us all to go down together? As if we’d ever escape this shantytown life anyway. Trying to earn a few extra bucks is pointless.”
Oh, I see. So that’s why they were moving those wooden cubes around earlier—they’re using them as props. Two actors perched on three or four cubes placed together, pointing and speaking as if addressing someone offstage.
That’s my cue.
I left my waiting spot, spread my arms wide, and stepped in front of them.
“Don’t talk trash about my dad!”
“Hrm.”
The two who were insulting Yeong-soo’s father turned their heads aside.
Not bad.
Just as I noticed in the previous rehearsal, this troupe’s actors weren’t half-bad. Their intonation was consistent, and their delivery felt natural.
Spurred on, I shouted even louder:
“My dad is not a bad person! Stop saying that! You’re both mean!”
“Yeong-soo, you’re too young to understand.”
“Hey, why are you picking on the kid? Enough. Yeong-soo, go on home and keep an eye on your dad. Don’t let him do anything stupid, all right?”
The actor mimed a shaking fist, like grabbing someone by the collar.
Rather than scolding me gently, it felt more like there was some deep resentment behind it.
Even a kid could catch that nuance.
Suddenly, the corners of my eyes turned red.
“Ugh… why’re we the ones getting cursed at for being villains here?”
“You hush. What would the kid know, anyway? Isn’t it that messed-up father of his who’s causing all this trouble?”
Finally, unable to stand it, I let out a frustrated screech. My eyes filled with tears of resentment, but I didn’t let them fall yet.
“My dad’s not bad anymore! Stop it!”
“Ai, Yeong-soo!”
That’s when Father—actor Choi I-seop—burst in, grabbed me, and whisked us both offstage, away from the other two actors’ hostile stares.
“Good job! The emotions were on point.”
With Gang Yong-hwi’s signal, the lights came back on. I slipped out of the actor’s arms and wiped my eyes.
Sniff.
Darn, I can’t let snot come out.
“Seriously, is he really five? How can a little kid switch moods so quickly and get that immersed?”
“Seeing it again, it’s incredible. Where did he even pop out from?”
Hearing the actors murmur about my performance, I fidgeted.
“Siwoo, nice work. That’s exactly what we needed.”
Gang Yong-hwi walked over and gave me two thumbs up.
What the…?
I vaguely copied his gesture, raising my fists with my thumbs extended:
“What’s this? What does it mean?”
“You don’t know? It means ‘You’re the best.’”
“The best?”
“It means you’re perfect. Perfect!”
Perfect?
Why didn’t you just say so from the start?
I see. So in this culture, they say ‘jjang’ instead of ‘perfect.’
“Jjang.”
Ah, this is what life in a theatre troupe is all about.
Returning his thumbs-up, I shot a grin at Gang Yong-hwi. He was the de facto leader here whenever the troupe leader wasn’t around, so it didn’t hurt to stay on his good side.
“Hmm? Me?” he asked.
“Good job, Director Gang—jjang!”
“Haha, thanks.”
“Gyaah!”
Hey!
He ruffled my hair wildly, so I glared at him in annoyance. But he just gushed about how cute I was, messing it up even more before returning to his spot.
“All right, let’s get into some feedback.”
Oh, time for critique?
I plopped down next to Uncle and looked at Gang Yong-hwi, waiting for his assessment.
“So, how’d our new face do, everyone?”
Shouts of “He was awesome!” came from every corner.
“Right, he really was awesome. But as for what we can improve… I think you’re not used to the spotlight yet.”
The spotlight!
True, the bright light had caught me off guard, especially when I moved around. It was far more intense than a flickering torch could ever be.
“When Yeong-soo first enters, it would be best if he stopped around here. Because once you go any farther, the spotlight can’t properly illuminate you. But Siwoo, you took three more steps forward.”
“Mmm. But if I stopped there, I’d be too far from those guys.”
I pointed at the cubes where the other actors had been seated.
“Sure, in real life, you’d stand closer. But on stage, we have to keep lighting in mind. That’s why the director—me—maps out what’s called your ‘blocking’ or ‘stage positions.’”
In my past life, stage movement (blocking) was crucial. This time, they hadn’t given me specific notes, so I moved around freely. Probably the director wanted me to realize on my own how important lighting was.
“Sometimes you’ll stand in places that are totally unrealistic in a real setting, all for the sake of the spotlight. Got it, Siwoo?”
“Mhm! Understood!”
“Great. So in this scene, Yeong-soo steps out for the first time to confront his dad. We’ll…”
I listened intently as Gang Yong-hwi kept explaining. It seemed the spotlight worked kind of like a torch, except you could reposition it much more flexibly to match the director’s or actors’ needs, unlike a torch stuck in place.
“Light is great,” I mumbled.
“Huh?”
Uncle turned toward me as Director Gang moved on to the next actor’s feedback.
“Light is the best.”
“Haha, you really like it, huh?”
But for some reason, Uncle seemed out of it, as if all his strength was drained. Narrowing my eyes, I saw he was stiff with nerves, pale as a sheet. I worried he might keel over before he could act.
“All right, next up: The conversation scene with the folks from the next room!” said Gang Yong-hwi.
Those actors headed out quickly.
Rehearsal went on in sequence. Soon, it would be Uncle’s turn.
I wasn’t sure how well he’d do, being so tense.
“Okay, let’s take a quick break.”
While I clicked my tongue in mild disappointment, Uncle leaped to his feet and rushed out of the rehearsal room. Must have been urgent.
“Good, let’s stop here for now.”
“Whew…”
At Gang Yong-hwi’s cue, Uncle, who had just finished his lines, heaved an overly dramatic sigh of relief. I silently shook my head at the sight. Even though all he did was stand onstage after delivering his lines, he was stiff as a board.
“All right, first let’s talk about you, Ji-hyeon. Nice job. But don’t just be haughty—be irritatingly haughty.”
“More sarcastic?”
“Yes, exactly. You’re not playing a refined young lady, right? So be casual and cool.”
“Got it.”
“And let’s strengthen your voice a bit. Your blocking looked awkward, too…”
“I think I need more practice with Dong-wook.”
Nodding, Director Gang agreed. She’d originally rehearsed with a different partner, but was now paired with my uncle, who’s practically a newbie, yet still managing it. She was obviously skilled, and Gang Yong-hwi understood that.
“Keep your distance in mind. Next—Ji Dong-wook.”
“Yes, sir!”
Uncle had even run to the bathroom earlier from nerves, so he answered stiffly.
“You know what to do, right?”
“Yes, sir…”
Without much explanation, Gang Yong-hwi gave Uncle a flat stare. Uncle drooped like a scolded puppy.
“I won’t say much. You haven’t practiced enough. Start by relaxing. Then we’ll talk feedback. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!”
“All right, you can go.”
Not bad.
Of course, I meant Director Gang, not Uncle. I already respected him for recognizing my crying as actual acting, not just a tantrum. Today, watching him direct, I saw he was quite skilled. He’d pick up on exactly what the actors were thinking and guide them. No one complained, so it seemed he had real authority and leadership.
Maybe that’s why Uncle, who didn’t get proper feedback, wore a gloomy expression as he slumped down next to me.
“Sam-choon.”
“Yeah, Siwoo?”
He looked like he wanted to dig a hole and hide. He was so limp, like an octopus. If he went home like this, Mom would worry herself sick.
“Watch me.”
No choice.
Standing up, I patted my backside.
“Sam-choon, you’re too tense. Your body’s stiff.”
“Uh? Oh, right…”
No time for moping. I tapped his shoulder to get him to focus.
“That doesn’t mean you’re powerless. Watch carefully.”
Standing with my feet shoulder-width apart, I raised my posture.
“You start by standing like this. Plant your feet firmly—like this. Got it?”
When acting, an actor should plant his legs solidly. It stabilizes you so the audience isn’t worried you’ll keel over. Good posture also gives strength to your lines. The balance in your lower body is the foundation of everything.
“Sam-choon, your lower body’s weak!”
“Guh! Siwoo, if people hear that, they’ll misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand? Don’t care. You get it?”
Once your lower body is steady, deciding how to move your upper body is easy. With clear motions, you feel less nervous and can deliver lines better.
“All right, so… I just need to keep my legs firm?”
“Mhm!”
Finally, he got it. Satisfied, I nodded. Uncle looked unsure, but he silently pondered it.
“Sigh.”
Returning to my seat, I let out a small breath.
Huh?
I realized Kim Seonwoo was staring at me from across the room. Since when had he been watching?
“Hmph.”
Without looking away, I folded my arms. He didn’t avert his eyes either. Probably his rehearsal was coming up next.
All right. Let’s see if the star actor of this troupe really lives up to his title.
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