[Is something wrong?]
Cheong-Hwa asked when he saw Rowoon staring so intently at the papers with a serious expression.
“I’m thinking there has to be a reason the quest gave me this specific script as a clue. We’re not even sure who we’re supposed to help, right? I’m guessing it might be the director…”
Rowoon glanced off to one side.
[Starlight (Requester) covers their mouth and shakes their head emphatically!]
The same notification he’d seen several times in the last few hours rang out again.
“But even that’s not certain. It could end up being one of the cast members, for all we know.”
[Starlight (Requester) clasps their hands together as they cautiously cheer you on!]
I wish they’d give me a stronger lead rather than just cheering…
Apparently, giving more direct hints was impossible. From what he’d heard, these “Starlights,” which Cheong-Hwa called “Observers,” were all beings with significant virtue, belonging to the heavens. But because they belonged to heaven, they were bound by the rules of heaven.
So ever since the request was given, they hadn’t been able to provide any more hints.
“Which leaves me trying to figure out what to do next.”
[Hmm. Why not just go and see for yourself?]
“That makes sense, but wouldn’t they think I’m crazy if I just showed up and started asking if they have problems?”
He couldn’t exactly walk up to them out of the blue and say, “Hey, you got any troubles?”
They’d probably think he was some kind of cult scammer and kick him out, if not call security.
That wouldn’t help at all. I need a more effective, less suspicious way to approach whoever it is I’m supposed to help.
While casually looking up Director Kim Seong-ha’s info on social media, Rowoon’s finger paused.
“Audition?”
He spotted that word in someone’s latest post.
Wait, an audition? This might be… workable.
It occurred to him that this was the perfect, most legitimate way to meet both the cast and the likely target, the director.
If he took a role in the movie based on this script, they’d have plenty of contact, like it or not.
[Audition Date Notice]
By luck or coincidence, the date was just three days away.
I have to be in this movie, no matter what.
That set Rowoon’s next objective in stone.
However, obstacles remained.
“‘Guiro’? By Director Kim Seong-ha? You really want to do that?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you trash that script the moment you saw it?”
When Rowoon announced that he was going to check it out, his manager looked perplexed, completely at a loss to understand why Rowoon was acting this way.
Rowoon was flustered.
“I… trashed it?”
Why’s he throwing a wrench in my plans…?
Well, technically it was the old “Lee Rowoon” who did that, but still.
“So… did I say why I did that…?”
He asked as if this was about someone else entirely. The manager scratched his cheek.
“The director was basically kicked out of Chungmuro. You said he was beneath your level—something along those lines.”
“…?”
Rowoon briefly recalled the body’s filmography.
Is he really in a position to care about someone’s ‘level’?
Given how dreadful his acting was reputed to be, he should have been prostrating himself in gratitude for any role.
“But… it’s still okay for me to join now, right?”
“Hm…”
“Is it not okay?”
The manager’s expression turned awkward—he was deciding whether to reveal the blunt truth or to spare Rowoon’s feelings. Finally, he chose caution and spoke:
“Well, Rowoon… after you got that script, you called them, flipped out, and basically accused them of messing with you, remember?”
“…I did that.”
Rowoon paused to pull himself together. He’d apparently flown into a crazy rage. Hopefully he hadn’t contacted the director personally.
“There was another reason you trashed it—rumor had it nobody wanted to work on it.”
“Rumor? What rumor?”
“That it was basically blacklisted—everyone was avoiding it.”
For a moment, he felt like the world was crashing down—then he spotted a tiny ray of light.
“Why didn’t anyone want to do it?”, he asked.
“Well, it’s complicated. There was some issue, you know about that, right?”
Of course, Rowoon didn’t.
Maybe I should’ve paid more attention to what was going on in the world instead of hiding away and composing.
“Anyway, it caused trouble, so a lot of people were looking to block it. At first, there was some hype because it was Kim Seong-ha’s comeback, but for whatever reason, the production got scrapped halfway. So it all fell apart.”
“So then what happened?”
The manager was surprisingly good at explaining things, and Rowoon found himself hooked by the story.
“Normally, you’d just give up, but apparently Kim Seong-ha wouldn’t. He’s known for his stubborn pride, you see. So he decided to start completely over. A director of his caliber can usually gather cast and funding just by making a few calls, but it looks like that didn’t work out this time. Actors don’t want to get on Chungmuro’s bad side, so they all turned him down. So he started sending the script everywhere, including our agency, but nobody bit. And eventually, I guess they decided they’d just do a public audition.”
It sounded like a world Rowoon knew nothing about.
“Anyway, yeah, so the industry basically sees it as doomed. Kim Seong-ha, proud as he is, seems determined to push forward, but everyone can see the writing on the wall. They haven’t even properly started pre-production, so it’s probably going to fall apart. And yet he keeps going.”
Pre-production, fall apart… Rowoon didn’t fully grasp the jargon, but he got the gist—like an idol group concept that never officially launched.
“So yeah, things are pretty desperate for them. They probably won’t mind if you show up wanting to audition. But since it is a public audition, Kim Seong-ha’s pride won’t let him just take anybody. And given the situation, even if we tried to pull strings for you like before, he might not go for it.”
The manager rattled off an insider’s rundown, then trailed off, glancing at Rowoon’s reaction.
‘So that’s how he ended up in so many projects—someone pulled strings for him.’
Rowoon at least knew how these behind-the-scenes favors worked, even if it was a different segment of the industry.
But why would anyone even bother pulling strings for this guy? Hobeom said this agency was all about strict merit…
In any case, that wasn’t the main issue now.
“You’re still… good with all this?”
The manager was basically asking, “You know you can’t just sneak in as a ‘company favorite’ this time, so you’ll have to pass the audition legitimately—are you really okay with that?”
“Yes. I still want to give it a shot.”
“If all you want is a project, there are other scripts I can bring you. You want me to get those for you?”
“No, it has to be Kim Seong-ha’s Guiro.”
The manager’s kindness touched him, but he had to refuse.
He had no choice.
‘If I don’t do this, I’m dead!’
He didn’t just want to star in any movie.
Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he could pass the audition, but it had to be that script.
The quest and its only clue demanded he check it out.
‘Wait, there’s a chance this movie might get canceled, right? That’s definitely a problem…’
To stay alive, he needed to remain attached to that script in some way. But if the film never even got made…
Fortunately:
“Rowoon, if you’re this serious, I’ll talk to the boss. Maybe we can figure something out at the agency level. Once he sees how determined you are, he might come up with a plan. If it comes to it, we could invest financially. We’ll have to respect Kim Seong-ha’s pride, so you’ll probably still need to audition, but we can at least go through the motions.”
It was an enticing offer.
An agency that could create an opportunity out of thin air.
‘Compared to how my old group was treated, this is the complete opposite!’
He suddenly felt a surge of hope. If the agency invested, maybe the movie wouldn’t collapse.
That left just one big concern.
‘What if I can’t pass the audition?’
Rowoon knew nothing about acting.
Sure, he’d hatched this grand plan to join the movie and clear the quest, but if he failed the audition, there’d be no role for him.
[Why the gloomy face all of a sudden?]
Cheong-Hwa, who had disappeared the day before, saying he wanted to “look around his new home,” arrived just in time to ask.
Rowoon, having confirmed the manager was off calling the agency president, replied:
“I just realized something—I’ve never actually done any acting before.”
[Oh? Is that a major problem?]
“Of course it is! How am I supposed to pass an audition if I can’t act?”
[R-right, I see…]
“If I fail, it gets even worse. Think about it: if some random guy who got rejected keeps hanging around, they’re only going to get more suspicious.”
He’d be lucky if they didn’t call security on him.
And if that happens, the quest is a bust…!
[“Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Rescue the man drowning in self-blame.”]
If that man is suspicious of Rowoon, he’s likely to reject any help outright.
So while an audition seemed the perfect solution, it also presented a dangerous pitfall.
‘Come to think of it, only Hobeom got acting lessons back in the group…’
Hobeom, the youngest member, was the one the old agency desperately wanted to keep, in stark contrast to how they shelved Rowoon. They even secretly asked Hobeom about renewing his contract.
He ended up exposing everything at a press conference, blowing up both the group and the company, ironically enough.
‘Not that Hobeom was ever thrilled about it…’
He remembered the younger boy once saying:
“Hyung, acting’s not easy. You have to become a whole different person. You have to watch every tiny detail.”
Habits, speech patterns—everything had to be on point. Especially since idol-turned-actors are often met with skepticism, you had to be doubly prepared or they’d pick you apart.
“If worst comes to worst, I’ll just apply for a crew job.”
He was worried but not about to give up. If his resolve were that fragile, it would’ve broken long ago. He’d already been through so many trials and tribulations.
‘Obviously, my best move is to join the cast. But if I can’t do that, I’ll find another angle.’
[Starlight (Requester) looks at you with eager eyes, cheering you on!]
The Requester also sent an encouraging message.
Right then, the manager returned from his call.
“Rowoon! I just got off the phone with the boss. He sounds quite positive. If this goes well, you might end up being that director’s savior!”
“Hyung, perfect timing. Let’s head out.”
“Huh? Where are we going?”
“We’ve got some shopping to do.”
He had just three days until the audition, and there was plenty to prepare.
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