“Me, you say?”
It was an utterly sudden remark.
Not knowing what they meant, I turned to Kim Sang-cheol.
There he sat at the head seat, wearing a broadly pleased smile.
Perhaps because I had not seen that toad-like face in bright light for a while, I felt as if some scheme were hiding behind it.
“Right, Siwoo. These two saw RUN with you in it. After watching, they liked you very much and contacted us.”
“Wow, you saw my show?”
That I had not known.
I straightened up as if sitting before fans.
Goodness, you should have told me sooner.
“Yes, indeed, both of us are huge fans.”
“Both the PD and I went several times.”
At the word fan, I lifted my teacup with both hands to look more dignified.
If I had guessed, I would have checked a mirror first.
Surely they would ask for photos.
Sip. I wet my throat with tea and smiled brightly.
“Hee-hee, thank you for coming to the performance.”
Still seated, I gave a polite bow, and both of them let out a gasp.
Hmm, genuine fans.
I softened my face a bit further and looked at the pair.
“So you came because you want to cast me after seeing my acting?”
“Ah, yes. first, this is the proposal I wrote. could you look it over? Oh, are the letters too small?”
Remembering I was only six, Han Yu-ju hesitated.
To ease her worry, I held out my hand.
“It’s fine. I read well.”
“Oh, oh, really?”
Han, pretending surprise, handed me the plan.
“Do not worry,” Mom laughed. “Siwoo reads whole scripts alone.”
“…Isn’t he just six this year?”
“When he performed with our troupe he read and memorized in no time. Clearly he was born with something,” Mom said.
Cha Il-nam and Han Yu-ju gaped in amazement.
Beside them, Kim Sang-cheol laughed heartily, prouder than anyone.
“Wow, you mastered Hangul early. The sharpest child actor I have ever met,” Cha muttered, shaking his head.
Hearing such praise again, Mom smiled and sipped coffee.
Regardless of what the adults said, I read Han’s proposal eagerly.
In the outline the work was labelled a “family romance healing drama”.
“A healing drama?”
“Yes. My story has no huge crisis or twist, but the quietly intertwined backstories and emotions are intricate and deep. The role for you, Siwoo, must express the psychology of a child torn between losing his mother and wishing for her happiness. It is a bit difficult…”
“Hm.”
Listening to Han’s explanation, I kept nodding.
Moving to the synopsis, I grasped roughly what she aimed for.
I laid down the proposal, which Mom picked up to read.
“Is it a very difficult piece?” she asked.
“Writer Han is famous for working her actors hard. She writes roles that demand strong acting power. She simply lacked the luck of big-name actors so far, but her writing is superb,” Cha answered, promoting the project.
Hearing of actors being pushed, Mom’s face stiffened.
Uh-oh. She already keeps telling me to rest, now I might lose all work.
Sensing danger, I glared at Cha to stop, but he misunderstood and grew more excited.
“Ha-ha, Siwoo, are you worried about your co-stars? Don’t be. I swear to craft a golden line-up using my entire career. All first-rate people, none you will dislike.”
“First-rate people,” Mom muttered, her face becoming stony.
“If our boy is among such stars, will he not be too stressed? Rivalry is real among actors…”
“Ah, ah, well…” Caught off guard, Cha stumbled.
I knew it. They must not realize Mom once worked in this field.
With the room tense, I sighed and put the papers down with a tap.
“Mom, I think this is fun.”
“Do you? Well, that is good if you enjoy it.”
“Yeah, so, which actors besides me will appear?”
While Mom grew anxious, I became interested.
So they wanted to cast me in a drama, and clearly not as a fleeting childhood cameo but nearly co-lead.
Having sorted my thoughts, I rested both elbows on the table, eyes shining at Cha.
Go on, tempt me further.
“Like what you showed in RUN, this too is a family tale. Slightly different in tone but the aim is the same. To move the audience,” Cha said.
“Yes, yes,” I replied.
“Two completely different families suffer accidents, then slowly merge into one. Like Johnny and Bella eventually became real family in RUN.”
“Sounds fun.”
I looked through the script while Han pointed out which feeling for each role, how I might respond, and ended with, “You would do it well.”
“Hmm?”
Leafing through, I tilted my head.
“By the way…”
“Yes, ask anything.”
“Where is the rest of this story?”
Holding the script that stopped abruptly in the early part, I looked at Han and Cha puzzled.
What? It seemed like a natural question, yet their faces were strange.
“Well, the thing is, Siwoo. In this industry, we don’t start with a completed script,” Cha said.
“What? Why do you do that?” I asked purely curious.
Acting with only a skeleton and no ending. Did that make sense?
I recalled my past life as Noah. Seventeenth-century England, Elizabethan days with Shakespeare, Marlowe, Ben Jonson, Thomas Kyd, John Lyly.
They might discuss story ideas, yet when casting or rehearsing, the play was finished.
Four centuries on, times had changed, yet every work I had done until now was not like this. even House on the Roof had full text.
I thought that was natural. One must see the whole play to understand it and decide how to inhabit the character.
Why is it different now? Perhaps because many playwrights then also acted?
Cha, speechless, shut his mouth. I frowned, failing to understand.
Mom opposed, but I was not in a hurry. I did not want to take just any project.
I was not desperate for money or blind appearance on TV. During RUN, the other kids all sighed about TV roles, but I could not relate.
We had the stage, why chase the box so blindly?
True, I would like to see myself in that square box, but only to that extent.
I did not want to join a script whose ending I did not know.
As I pondered, I cut off Cha’s next words.
“See, Siwoo, with broadcasting the budget and production—”
“Um, I will not do this.”
I needed hear no more. Clearly they could not show the ending now.
My firm refusal shocked everyone in the office. Cha, Han, even Mom looked surprised.
“Siwoo?!”
“Really, Siwoo? Then you will rest a bit,” Mom said, relieved. A week of rest had not satisfied her.
Sorry, Mother, but that is not it.
I turned straight to Kim Sang-cheol.
“Director, where is Director Kang? The script he sent was great. I wish to talk to him today.”
Cha pressed his brow. He understood. They had come to cast me yet might lose me to Kang Yong-hwi.
“Haha, is that so? Director Kang will be delighted.”
“Yes, it was really fun. It seems he wrote it with me as lead, right?”
“Indeed. Kang Yong-hwi, that fellow—no, that director—has been waiting with eyes peeled for your return.”
Speaking kindly to me, Kim lifted a corner of his mouth at Cha.
His spinning smile looked somewhat boastful… why so?
“Told you, didn’t I?” Kim said.
“This happened because of you, hyung,” Cha muttered.
“Now, now, do not blame others. Our actor wishes to decide after reading a script that has an ending.”
Kim feigned regret. Even I found him quite naughty, and felt a bit sorry for Cha.
But what could I do? Yong-hwi’s complete, delightful play attracted me far more than a drama with only the beginning.
“Well then, goodbye. I will go find Director Kang!”
I drained the remaining chamomile neatly and rose. The script I had read that morning swam in my head, eager to discuss it.
Just then,
“Wait a moment!”
Writer Han Yu-ju, who had been silent, finally spoke.
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