The night before the audition, Park Jun-sik couldn’t sleep and just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Next to him, his wife Lee Eun-kyung must have noticed, because she spoke up.
“Can’t sleep? You’ve got that audition tomorrow, right?”
“I’m all restless… I can’t believe I got a chance like this…”
“Do you even know what role you’re auditioning for?”
“No idea… I haven’t even seen the script. I only got a piece of the audition script.”
A sigh slipped out of him.
“You worried?”
That short question from his wife made his heart ache.
“No. Why worry? I just have to do my best.”
“It’s okay even if it doesn’t work out. We can still manage for now. It’s not so bad.”
“No, it needs to go well. Then I can buy our Se-jin some toys…”
“Only toys for our kid? What about my present?”
“Of course I’ll get something for you too.”
For three years, his wife had worked so hard. Whenever he recalled all her sacrifices, the troubles he himself had gone through felt trivial by comparison.
“Should I come with you to the audition? We could bring Se-jin, too.”
“To Gangnam?”
“Sure. It’s been ages since I last went there. I can do some sightseeing.”
“That’d be great for me.”
“If you’re grateful, then repay me later.”
She said “later,” hinting at the fact that they couldn’t do much right now. Hearing that, guilt rose up again in Park Jun-sik.
“Why that face again, huh? Don’t look so guilty. I won’t accept it. I said I’ll collect double from you later, didn’t I?”
“I’m just grateful.”
“If you’re grateful, then say…?”
“I’ll treat you well later.”
Smiling, Lee Eun-kyung gazed at him.
The next day, he was on the move from early morning. He hadn’t slept much, evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes. But he couldn’t stop smiling.
“Dad, are you happy?”
His son, Se-jin—who didn’t really know what was going on—asked that question, and Park Jun-sik pulled him into a tight hug.
“Of course. Hey, what do you want me to get you?”
The boy rolled his eyes, hesitating before answering.
“Um… a Top Blade! Kang-min’s Beyblade! On TV it’s got a blue dragon that comes out?”
“A… blue dragon?”
“Yeah! It’s super cool! It goes ‘Boom! Boom!’ exploding everywhere. It’s awesome!”
Beyblades that explode? Sounded dangerous to him, so he glanced questioningly at Se-jin.
“It’s not dangerous. It’s just a spinning top. Kids these days all have one,” Eun-kyung chimed in from behind, guessing what was on his mind.
“Okay, then Dad’ll buy you not just one—ten of ’em.”
“Really?! Are you serious?! Really?”
Seeing how wide his son’s eyes grew, Park Jun-sik stroked the boy’s cheek affectionately.
“Of course. Anything else you want?”
Watching father and son’s silly conversation, Eun-kyung smiled brightly from the background.
“You’re just a big kid yourself,” she teased.
“I feel bad for Se-jin, not getting to spend time with him…”
“Then hurry up and be successful.”
“Honestly, if this doesn’t work out again… I might just accept that it’s not my path.”
“Didn’t you say you’d give it five years?”
“You’ve been struggling so much… If it’s not meant to be, I can’t keep at it forever.”
She glanced at him sadly.
“I can still support you longer…”
“No, it’s been three years already. That’s too long for a guy with a family to keep chasing dreams.”
“Won’t you regret it?”
“My family matters more than my dreams. I’ll just consider these three years a ‘good dream.’”
Eun-kyung wrapped him in a hug.
“Give it everything you’ve got this time. No regrets. I know you can do it.”
Outside Seong-hyeon Productions, people arrived for the audition.
Some were recruited by the casting director working for Jun-seong, and one of them was the man I’d brought in personally—Park Jun-sik.
“That’s the guy you mentioned?” asked Jun-seong, noticing the man with his wife and child in tow.
“Yep.”
“He’s… extremely ordinary looking.”
Two weeks ago, as soon as I left that convenience store after handing him the audition script, I realized where I’d seen him before. Ten years from now, on an open audition show, that man would appear.
During that show, he freely expressed emotion, drawing the audience in. Perfect emotional control, a face that doesn’t overwhelm the screen, natural body movements… A previously unknown fortysomething man who managed to persuade viewers on TV.
“There’s a gem hidden in that normal look,” I said.
“Looks normal means normal. Where’s the gem?”
Sure enough, as Jun-seong said, with his plain face, he seemed like someone who’d live next door.
“If we were going for a leading role like Kim Seung-hoon or Lee Jeong-woo, you’d want a distinctly different look, right?”
“But that’s not the kind of story this film is, is it?”
“Exactly.”
“Still… well, okay. He must have a lot of drive, at least.”
“Yeah. That kind of urgency isn’t simple.”
“Oh, big talk. Maybe it’ll be interesting.”
Smack!
He lightly whacked me on the back of my head, snickering.
“Quit acting cool. You’re starting to float.”
“Just do your job, Producer.”
We headed upstairs to the audition room, where ten applicants were waiting.
Lucky or not, the ones the casting director recruited mostly had no grasp of basic acting—they were basically relying on their looks.
“‘W-w-where’s my daughter?! Where did you take her!’”
“Right, that’s enough. Thank you,” I cut him off.
“But I still have more lines…”
“We’ve seen enough. Please step out.”
The participant sighed and left.
Once he was gone, Jun-seong grunted:
“He’s got the face, but that acting—seriously, I could do better.”
“I doubt it.”
“You want me to try?”
“No thanks. I’d rather keep my eyes intact. Next, please.”
Another handsome face walked in, but his acting was bottom-tier.
“Did the casting director just bring people for their looks?” I murmured.
“…”
He avoided my gaze, staring at the window.
“Next is Park Jun-sik, right?”
“You’ll see. I’m counting on him.”
Creak…
Carefully opening the door, Park Jun-sik stepped into the audition room. At the table sat Director Gyeong Chan-hyeon, along with some unfamiliar faces.
His hands trembled, but to hide it, he kept them clenched in fists.
“Hello. I’m Applicant #10, Park Jun-sik.”
First impressions are everything, so he bowed low, so humble it almost seemed over-the-top.
“Ah, hello,” I said.
“Yes!” he replied nervously.
“We’ll start with your acting. Take your time.”
At my words, he closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the character from the audition script. It matched his own real-life desperation, a role driven by urgency.
He combined everything he’d learned from stage acting with bits he’d gleaned from movies.
He began moving slowly.
“My daughter. Where’s my daughter…? Damn it…! What do you know about me? You said this would work. You said if I did this, I’d be saved!”
Once he began, everyone else in the room disappeared for him. It was as if he were on stage, losing himself in the role.
His eyes bulged, veins popping. His body quivered with raw emotion. He conveyed the grief of a father who’d lost his child, along with overwhelming self-reproach.
“My family… my life… was it all just attachment? Was it greed? Lust?”
He sank to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor, then suddenly rose, raging again.
“No! No way. It’s not like I wanted something huge! I just… wanted to be happy… that’s all I wanted!”
Once he’d delivered all the lines, he was breathing raggedly, as if physically spent from the intensity.
Wiping away a bit of sweat, he forced a smile.
“Uh… that’s it.”
We all just stared at him, momentarily speechless.
“Is… is that okay?” he asked.
The person beside me stared at him in awe. Trying to avoid that gaze, he turned his attention to me.
“Oh, sorry. Just a couple questions.”
I asked him about his intentions, his acting style, and so on.
“Thank you. We’ll call you by tomorrow with the results.” I said with a smile.
“Thank you, Director! And Producer! I look forward to it!”
He bowed 90 degrees again, then left.
Outside, his wife and child were waiting with bright smiles.
“Did you give it your all?” she asked.
“Yeah. I won’t have any regrets even if it doesn’t work out.”
“What about your stage gig?”
“This week’s the last. They’ll call tomorrow, so if it works out, I’ll probably quit.”
“They’d be crazy not to pick you,” she said as they left, noticing some extremely good-looking men leaving too.
He murmured under his breath, “Wow, they’re so handsome…”
She just stared, while their son piped up:
“Dad! Mom! I’m hungry! Let’s eat!”
When he was gone, I promptly smacked the back of Jun-seong’s head.
“Ow!”
“You saw that, right? Want two more hits?”
“What was that? Did you see his eyes? They were bulging like crazy. That’s seriously next-level. You think it’s just ‘acting’? Something got in his eye or what?”
“That’s ‘expressiveness,’ you moron. He clearly studied his character thoroughly.”
“He’s a monster. Is that what desperation does?”
“It’s not the same brand of desperation the others had.”
I remembered that open audition program from the future. They’d pushed him forward because he had a real story—losing his job during the IMF crisis, drifting aimlessly, discovering college theater, and finding hope again. Plus, his wife’s story was intertwined. She had done all sorts of odd jobs at home, raising their son alone.
When he soared through that show’s rankings, she calmly supported him, and that image stuck with me.
“How did you even find a guy like that? That can’t have been easy. Got some X-ray vision or something?” Jun-seong demanded.
“Good instincts, I guess.”
“Anyway, so you want him for the lead?”
I nodded, and he frowned with worry.
“Are we sure about this? An unknown face carrying the screen for two hours? Might be tough to get audience buy-in.”
He wasn’t wrong. Production companies reused star actors for a reason.
Viewers always say they’re tired of the ‘same old faces,’ but in reality, familiarity helps them immerse themselves in the film.
“Exactly. So we’ll need to share his story with the world. It overlaps with the film’s plot in a lot of ways.”
“…You’ve been stalking him or something? What sort of story?” he joked.
“Just wait. I’ll work my magic.”
“Guess I’ll trust you again?”
“When has trusting me ever ended in disaster? We’re always hitting it big, right?”
At that, he propped his chin in his hand, glaring at me.
“Hmph… gotta bring your ego down a notch. You were all depressed before, so I tried building you up. Now you’re acting cocky again.”
“Just believe in me, Producer.”
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