By June, Korea starts getting hot. The Bi-Sang-Cheol-tto Troupe went on a one-week break under the banner of “group vacation,” effectively closing the theater. Since I couldn’t go to the rehearsal room, I decided to relax and enjoy some free time.
I’d been planning to re-watch that British wizard movie series from my former homeland, England, but that wasn’t meant to be today.
Slurp—slurp—
Right now, I’m outside, sucking on some ice cream Dad gave me and watching people pass by.
“Siwoo, aren’t you hot?”
“Mm, I’m okay.”
Dad poked his head out from inside the chicken shop, where he was busy frying chicken. I shook my head—no, I’m fine—and put the ice cream back in my mouth.
“Hmph.”
This ice cream is something else.
I hummed in delight as the strong chocolate flavor filled my mouth. Cool, sweet… it’s addictive. It just keeps pulling me back for more.
They say it’s made by mixing chocolate with milk so that it melts in your mouth. It tastes fantastic.
I’m really glad I got to be reborn into a world where ice like this exists.
It’s apparently not even hard to come by.
I grasped the bottom of the pouch firmly and took more big sips of the ice cream.
Ah, ice cream… what a wonderful world.
Brrring–
“Hello, this is Shining Chicken—Hee-Hee Chicken, bringing you joy! Ah, yes, half-and-half? We’re really busy right now, so it’ll be about 50 minutes. Yes, yes, we’ll definitely deliver before the game starts!”
Mom was taking phone calls in a flurry. They say there’s a World Cup match today, a soccer event where players from all around the world chase a ball. Inexplicably, people seem to eat chicken while watching this match; that’s the tradition here.
Because of that, Dad’s chicken place was swamped with orders from early in the day. Could they deliver before the game started? Did they have a big screen in the store? All sorts of questions kept flooding in.
As a result, Mom and Uncle were at the chicken shop to help out. Since no one was at home, I came along to the store too. I could have stayed home watching TV by myself, but I guess Mom saw through me and noticed I was sulking a bit; she set me up in the shade of a parasol out in front of the store.
To appease me, Dad handed me this ice cream, which wasn’t a bad trade-off. So here I am, kicking my legs contentedly and watching the three of them work.
“Oh? Hee-Hee Chicken? Shall we watch the match here?”
“Sure, let’s go in. Hey, they have a screen, too.”
“You gotta have chicken when watching soccer.”
“Welcome! A table for two?”
Ah, customers.
Uncle darted over to greet them right away. They were heading toward the entrance, and as I stared, they stared right back at me, smiling faintly.
Slurp, slurp—
“Wow, sir, is he your son?”
“Yes, isn’t he cute? He’s the owner’s son. Also my nephew, haha.”
“He’s super cute! Hey, little guy, how old are you?”
“I’m five.”
Gasp.
All I did was tell them my age, but both customers clutched their chests like they’d been struck by lightning and staggered in place.
“Okay, we are definitely staying here today.”
I get that reaction all the time now.
As I got ready to keep eating my ice cream, I heard some passersby talking:
“Look at that kid over there holding the ice cream. Isn’t he adorable?”
They were all wearing red shirts for this World Cup thing. They also had on devil-horn headbands. Some kind of ritual I don’t know about, maybe?
“Wow…he looks just like a doll. What’s he doing out here?”
“Huh? This is a chicken place. Should we go in?”
Oh-ho. Interesting.
Hearing their reactions, I changed my tactics.
“Chi-kin is deeelicious! Bringing you joy, Shining Chi-kin! Hee-Hee-Chi-kin—!”
I shouted at the top of my lungs. People all around turned their heads toward our store.
When they saw me, they cooed about how cute I was and came closer.
Yes, that caught their attention.
Grinning wide, I told them how tasty it was. They melted at the sight of a little kid holding an ice cream and beaming at them.
“How about this place?”
“Looks good. Hey, kid, is it tasty?”
“Yummy!”
I replied instantly, and the red-clad group burst into laughter and headed into the chicken shop.
“Welcome!”
“How many in your party?”
Before long, Dad’s shop was packed.
“Is it okay if we sit outside?”
“Yes, absolutely! Let me set that up for you.”
Wow. This World Cup business is intense. Just when the place seemed full, more people arrived. Meanwhile, the phone kept ringing off the hook. Eventually, there were so many people we had to put tables and chairs near where I was sitting as well. Uncle hustled to prop up another umbrella. I kept on pulling people in.
“It’s really good,” I’d say.
“Is that so? Haha, sir, your son is adorable—and so smart.”
“Oh, thank you very much!”
In a matter of moments, both inside and outside the shop were bustling.
I did my best not to get in everyone’s way, plopping down in front of the store.
“Another draft beer, please!”
“Sure thing!”
“Could we get another half-and-half chicken?”
“Yes, please wait just a moment!”
Even though Mom and Dad were slammed with work, they were all smiles. It was nice to see, and I felt pretty proud—like I was being a helpful son. I quietly congratulated myself for pulling in customers by smiling and chirping at them.
Seeing all those people in red outfits, the phrase “Red Devils” (Korea’s football supporters) popped into my head. Clearly, there was some sort of ritual going on that only I didn’t understand.
“Ah? Oh-oh?”
“Wooooah!”
“Goal! We wooooon!”
Ack—what the—!
Suddenly, cheers erupted from inside the chicken shop and nearby businesses. Startled, I clapped my hands over my ears. Everyone yelling in unison like that!
Wondering what had happened, I glanced at the big screen everyone was watching. The screen showed: [KOREA 2 : TOGO 1].
Under the dark night sky, bright neon lights glowed, and the roar of the crowd in red resounded all around us.
Flip.
I turned another page of the script that Director Kim Sang-cheol had given me, eyes bright with excitement. It’s supposedly the play Kang Yong-hwi might stage next. I found it really interesting.
The role I’m most drawn to…
Hmm, that one.
The main character sounds fun, but the supporting role seems even more entertaining. Not that it matters, since I’m still only five. Still, I was letting my imagination wander: how would I play this part, or that part?
Then I glanced up.
“Why isn’t he here yet?”
Kim Sang-cheol had summoned me to the meeting room and then left me with just one sentence: “There’s someone who wants to meet you,” he said, grinning like a villain before he disappeared. I was dying of curiosity.
His face is kind of toad-like, so maybe that’s why everything he says looks a bit evil. Once you actually talk to him, you can tell he’s a good guy, though.
Siiiip.
I looked at the meeting room door, which stubbornly refused to open, and took a sip of the chamomile tea he’d left for me.
In my previous life, when I was Noah, if anyone wanted to meet me, it was usually not possible. Everyone in the Oscar Troupe knew that “The Golden Mask” was Noah Battenberg and had vowed to keep it a secret, but stepping forward to the outside world was too risky.
Once I heard rumors that someone was desperately searching for “The Golden Mask,” I’d be the first to wonder who they were and why. Was it a famous noble critic? Or a playwright eager to show me a script? I’d be so curious I couldn’t sleep.
But after days of pestering Oliver for info about the rumor, that was usually the end of it. I couldn’t exactly step forward and say, “I am The Golden Mask!” so I’d always be left a little unfulfilled.
Now, in this life, I can actually meet the person who wants to see me.
This time, I’m definitely going to ask: why did they want to meet me? What did they feel watching my performance? What were they curious about?
Yet the meeting room door remained tightly shut.
I sighed and started to turn the page, when—
Click.
“Huh?”
I heard the door opening, so I raised my head. My body immediately stiffened.
Because the person who entered was someone I never expected.
It was him.
The man who seemed like the reincarnation of Richard Burbage.
For a moment, his brilliant aura overlapped with this new arrival in my mind.
Silence filled the meeting room.
Walking right in and sitting across from me was none other than actor Moon Hee-seong.
In person, he was far more imposing than I’d seen in the videos. Over 180 cm tall, a robust physique built from muscle, and there I was—tiny—sitting across from him. We were a completely mismatched pair.
I looked up at a man who appeared three times my size, my eyes shining.
Was it really Moon Hee-seong who wanted to meet me?
My thoughts whirled with what I should ask first. Even if he was the one who asked to meet, I had a mountain of questions for him. The drama I finished recently—? Or maybe ? Actually, maybe first…
No, I should start with… I learned a lot about Korean culture from that show. Wait, or maybe the movie … or the final scene in …?
No, no, I should probably ask about how he interpreted Shakespeare’s Romeo…
I couldn’t hide my smile. I was already thrilled just imagining a conversation with someone who might rival Richard in skill.
Alright, let’s start by asking about Romeo—
“Um, your name is Siwoo, right?”
“Mm. I’m Han Siwoo. Hello!”
Reflexively, I bowed so deeply my forehead nearly touched my stomach.
Oops. When I straightened up, Moon Hee-seong was smiling like he found me adorable.
“Right, Siwoo. I’m Moon Hee-seong. You’ve heard of me?”
“Mm! You played Romeo!”
“Oh? Ah, so Sang-cheol hyung showed you that, huh? What did you think—did you like it?”
Did I like it? It was far beyond that.
“What sort of Romeo did you want to play?”
“Huh? What sort of Romeo?”
“Mm. There are lots of ways to do Romeo, right? A sad Romeo, an angry Romeo, or maybe a foolish Romeo?”
Tilting my head, I rattled off the different interpretations of Romeo.
Moon Hee-seong’s eyes went wide, and he fell silent, mouth slightly open.
From what I saw on the video, he seemed to have gone for a tragic interpretation, but near the ending, his reaction to Juliet’s death felt a bit off to be purely sad.
“So I was right,” I murmured.
“Huh?”
He mumbled something, but I didn’t catch it. I blinked at him in confusion. He shook his head as if it was nothing.
“Haha, I’ll tell you more about that later. For now, Siwoo… you know your recent play ? It’s still creating quite a buzz.”
Oh, so that’s what brought him here.
That clears it up.
I nodded proudly.
“Do you remember the lines you said in the final performance?”
“Mm, the ones I ad-libbed?”
“So it really was ad-lib.”
“Yes. I-seop ajusshi had something really sad happen that day, so I just did that.”
“So you’re saying you came up with those lines yourself?”
“Um? Of course. But in theater, it’s natural, right? It’s people performing live, so every show’s a little different. And even if something happens, it’s not that strange. We just want our performance to stay… to stay… safe? Something like that. If you’re an actor, that’s normal!”
Phew, I managed to get it out.
I sipped my chamomile tea, satisfied with how I’d explained. On the other side, Moon Hee-seong was looking at me with a curious expression. Did I say something odd?
I thought back over my words, but I couldn’t spot any mistakes.
As I tilted my head, he pulled something out of his jacket pocket.
“Siwoo, I have a lot more I want to ask… Shall we exchange numbers?”
“Mm! Sounds good!”
It’s exactly what I wanted.
But… wait, I don’t even have a phone number…
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