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Chapter – 15
Sun-woo wasn’t the only one thinking that way.
“Today, if things go well…”
“If I can get into Yoo Chan-woo’s crew, I won’t ask for anything else in life.”
“I’m not even hoping for Director Yoo Chan-woo. I’d settle for even Han Hee-jung’s team…!”
Everyone was murmuring, eyes full of greed and anticipation.
Of course, those who weren’t appearing in Confession were equally frustrated.
“Damn it. This should’ve been my role…”
Seo Jin-wook was literally clutching his hair in frustration. When his eyes happened to meet Sun-woo’s, he stormed out of the theater in anger.
Sun-woo secretly chuckled.
That felt… pretty satisfying.
Still, seeing Jin-wook react like that made it even clearer just how big this opportunity was.
Not that he wouldn’t have done his best anyway — but now it felt like he really had to burn everything down and give it his all.
That was when Do-young spoke.
“Everyone, calm down.”
The buzzing stopped at once, and all eyes turned to him.
Do-young looked around, his gaze heavy.
“I know you’re excited, but stop thinking about useless things. We’re here to learn, and our job is simple. Act properly. Don’t get distracted by Yoo Chan-woo or whoever. Got it?”
“…Yes.”
Typical Do-young.
Thanks to him, Sun-woo’s thoughts settled as well.
Yeah. Focus on the work first. In the end, there’s only one thing that matters: giving a good performance.
For the audience’s sake too — you can’t get lost chasing after side benefits.
Still…
Sun-woo glanced at Do-young again.
He knew Do-young never cared much about the film industry, but even so — seeing him this calm when a giant like Yoo Chan-woo showed up was surprising.
Especially since the director had probably come because of him in the first place.
Which made Sun-woo wonder…
Is Do-young really planning to refuse again?
Even if the offer is from someone like Yoo Chan-woo?
“Wow, the seats are packed.”
Like a bear in build, Yoo Chan-woo wiped his glasses and looked around.
“I heard the theater scene’s been rough lately. Guess that doesn’t apply here?”
“Cheongsong has had a loyal fan base for years. Good plays, good actors.”
“Well, I suppose that’s why you dragged me here.”
He nodded.
“I’m curious about this actor. I know better than anyone how picky you are, Writer Han.”
“Heh… once you see him, you’ll want to kidnap him on the spot.”
Han Hee-jung smiled confidently.
Yoo Chan-woo, however, didn’t look particularly excited — and she understood.
They were here to find the lead for their next film.
Not a supporting role — a lead.
Bringing in someone who had never filmed before was obviously risky.
Honestly, it was amazing he’d even agreed to come this far.
But Hee-jung was confident.
Once the director sees him, he’ll change his mind.
Cheongsong had a jewel.
Not a rough stone — a jewel already polished to perfection.
Once Yoo Chan-woo saw him with his own eyes, he would drool over him, no doubt.
All she had to do today was show him.
He would understand immediately why she brought him here.
I can’t wait.
She licked her lips.
How would Yoo Chan-woo react when he saw Cha Do-young — that monster?
He would never have imagined that something like that had stayed hidden this long.
There was a reason, of course.
Do-young himself avoided the film industry.
A rare case.
Most actors, no matter how devoted to theater they claimed to be, found it hard to refuse once they were offered film roles.
Money, fame, popularity — the scale was completely different.
But Do-young had turned down every invitation.
A unicorn.
Directors had been trying to scout him for years. Word of the “monster in Cheongsong” had been spreading quietly.
Yet no one succeeded.
His commitment to theater was absolute.
Still — Hee-jung had hope.
If it’s Director Yoo… maybe he can persuade him.
His name, skill, charisma — surely it would be enough.
Of course, that depended on Do-young winning his heart first — but she wasn’t worried about that.
He’ll fall for him.
Her entire focus today was one thing:
What expression would Yoo Chan-woo make… when he finally saw Cha Do-young?
And then—
“Confess your sins.”
“—!”
The moment the priest appeared on stage, Yoo Chan-woo’s expression changed.
His relaxed posture stiffened. His half-closed eyes suddenly burned.
It was only natural.
The priest’s presence alone was overwhelming.
His voice, expression, performance — nothing failed to shake the heart.
The longer the play went on, the wider the smile spread on Yoo Chan-woo’s face.
It was inevitable.
The acting was intoxicating.
I owe the writer for this…
Just as Hee-jung expected, he’d had little expectation.
If this actor really were such a phenomenon, someone would have stolen him already — or so he’d thought.
But now, seeing him—
There was someone like this here…
Chills rose all over his body.
Just imagining filming him through the lens gave him goosebumps.
He was the real deal.
He was sure: if he cast this man, the results would exceed anything he imagined.
Even terrible lines would become art in his hands.
Then—
Oh?
His eyes flashed again.
But this time, it wasn’t because of the priest.
It was the man who confessed he was going to kill someone — the monk, Seon-woo.
This kid…
In Chungmuro, Yoo Chan-woo was known as the “gem appraiser.”
He’d launched countless rookies into stardom.
People said he had the best eye for spotting talent.
But he never really thought of it that way.
He was simply good at running simulations.
What would this actor be like in this role?
What kind of character could bloom from that expression?
Through those mental simulations, he could imagine countless characters for any actor.
And now, seeing Seon-woo—
Interesting.
The actor carried something dangerous yet sorrowful.
And no matter what role he imagined him in, it worked.
His emotional lines were delicate and alive.
Even standing in front of that overwhelming priest, he stole the spotlight for a moment.
An innate gift — something effort alone could never create.
With some polishing, he’d be incredible…
He tore his gaze away, reminding himself of priorities.
The true prey was Do-young.
I’m taking him.
After the show ended, he headed straight backstage.
“Right this way!”
“This way, director!”
“It’s an honor to meet you!”
“Haha, thank you.”
He wasn’t even officially staff, but no one stopped him — they guided him eagerly.
Soon, he was face-to-face with Do-young.
And once again, he was struck.
He really looks incredible.
He’d worked with Korea’s most handsome actors — and Do-young didn’t lose to any of them.
He swallowed and tried to sound composed.
“Hello, Mr. Cha Do-young. I’m Director Yoo Chan-woo.”
“Yes, hello, director.”
Still in his priest costume, Do-young looked at him.
Despite standing in front of a director every actor dreamed of working with, there wasn’t a hint of greed in his eyes — only mild discomfort.
Did he really have no interest?
No way to know without trying.
“I enjoyed your performance. It was wonderful. I’ll get straight to the point.”
His eyes gleamed.
“Would you like to work on a project with me?”
“…”
Everyone around them gasped.
They’d expected something — but to hear it outright…
And then:
“For reference, what I’m offering you is the lead role in the film I’m preparing.”
Silence fell.
Had they heard correctly?
A lead role — in a Yoo Chan-woo film?
Even if Do-young was brilliant, he had never once stood in front of a camera.
Yet he was being offered the lead, just like that.
All eyes turned desperately toward Do-young.
Surely, surely he wouldn’t refuse… right?
“…I’ve admired your films since I was young.”
He finally spoke.
But—
“I’m afraid I can’t join the project.”
He refused.
Some sighed like they’d seen it coming. Others looked like their world had collapsed.
Yoo Chan-woo fell into the latter group.
Even top stars couldn’t say no to that offer…
“May I ask why?”
“I’m a theater actor. I want to protect this troupe. That’s all.”
Normally, it would have sounded absurd.
But Yoo Chan-woo nodded.
“…I understand. Then — may I at least have your phone number?”
“Director… I truly have no intention of entering film.”
“Yes. But I’d like to try persuading you. Could you at least give me that chance?”
He couldn’t refuse that much.
Yoo Chan-woo left with Do-young’s number.
Hee-jung chuckled knowingly.
“Not easy, huh?”
“Yeah. I wondered why someone like him hadn’t been discovered. Turns out he doesn’t want to be discovered.”
“So what will you do?”
“What else? Keep knocking. Persistence wins.”
“So this is a retreat?”
“Let’s call it a strategic reposition.”
He laughed — then stopped mid-step, glancing back.
Behind the glass doors, troupe members dove out of sight in panic.
Hee-jung frowned.
“What is it?”
“I just remembered — there’s one more kid who caught my eye.”
“Someone else? Ah — the one who confessed he was going to kill, right?”
She nodded.
He smiled.
“Yeah. Didn’t he feel really good on stage? Very compelling.”
“Well, yeah. Very distinct. Raw, but inspiring.”
She swallowed — then shook her head.
“But no. We don’t have any roles left.”
“I know. I’m not trying to cast him yet. He still needs work. He just caught my eye.”
“Well, if that’s all… Still, if you noticed him, that’s something. He might be a star someday.”
“Hey, I’m not some star-fortune teller. I don’t know who’ll become famous. I just…”
He trailed off.
To him, that kid was still a rough stone.
But when he grew?
“…Next time I see him, I may not be able to look away.”
And when that time came, leaving him behind might be impossible.
As a director — as a filmmaker — Yoo Chan-woo secretly hoped…
That day would come soon.
