OATCG 17

Chapter – 17

“Why all of a sudden — the lead role?”

When Seonwoo said he wanted to try out for the lead, the reactions from the troupe were more or less the same.

“I think the lead role might still be a little too soon for you.”

A husky voice.

A woman with long black hair tied back — Minhee — looked at Seonwoo with an expressionless face.

Even without any makeup, her features were striking. She was the actress who had performed with Seonwoo in Confession.

Among the troupe, she was known as the one who always delivered blunt reality checks.

She hit you with facts, without emotion — and that was exactly why everyone was a little scared of her.

But dealing with Minhee was surprisingly simple.

You just had to respond with facts as well.

“I know it’s early for me. But I… wanted to try at least once.”

“Hmm… competing for the lead isn’t easy. I know you’re good for your experience level — but leads have way more to think about. Why are you suddenly fixated on it?”

It was the reaction he expected.

With his experience — no, with just months under his belt — aiming for the lead wasn’t exactly normal.

Anyone could think he’d gotten cocky after people called him a genius.

But this wasn’t because he was full of himself.

“Because I know it’s hard — that makes me want to do it more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I realized just how lacking I still am. So if there’s a harder challenge, I figured I could crash into it, learn more, and grow more… something like that.”

In short, he thought playing on “hard mode” would raise his skill faster than staying on “easy mode.”

Just then, a curly-haired man who’d been listening chimed in.

Hyesung — thirty-five, the oldest in the troupe.

“Well, having big goals does make you work harder. But… are you only going to prepare for the lead? What if you don’t get it?”

“Then it can’t be helped. But for now… I just want to focus on the challenge.”

And this wasn’t the only reason.

Even the clothes he was wearing were part of the problem.

He was in a suit.

Why wear a suit to the theater?

Because when he left the house that morning… he’d told his parents he had a job interview.

He still hadn’t told them he’d started acting.

I really do need to tell them soon…

At first, he held back because he thought he might quit at any moment.

Maybe he’d change his mind and go back to job hunting.

But now he was sure.

The more he acted, the clearer it became.

He wanted to live as an actor.

He was happiest when he was performing.

But it was still hard to tell them. Without having achieved anything yet, it felt like all he’d do was make them worry.

And acting is not exactly an easy way to make a living.

…I want to at least have something to show them first.

And the closest thing he could get right now… was that lead role.

With that, at least he could speak to them with a bit more confidence.

Minhee nodded as if she understood.

“I get how you feel.”

“Yeah… in this line of work, the hardest thing is getting your parents’ support.”

“How did you all get permission?”

“I didn’t. I just moved out.”

“I’m still fighting with mine every day.”

…Seonwoo looked at them with sympathy.

Everyone had been through a lot.

Then Hyesung clapped once.

“But the lead role won’t be easy. Jaewon is coming back this time. Ah — you probably don’t know him, huh?”

“No, first I’ve heard of him.”

“There’s this guy who always competes with Do-yeong for the lead. He always loses, sure, but… still, he’s pretty tough competition.”

Someone who competed with Doyoung.

That alone was enough to give Seonwoo a picture.

Seonwoo wasn’t even at the point where he could stand on stage with Do-yeong, much less compete.

“Then why wasn’t he around last season?”

“He sometimes goes and does construction work for living expenses. Spends an entire quarter just working, saves up, and then uses that money to act again.”

“…That’s incredible.”

“Yeah. And he’s really good, too. I want to root for him, honestly — but your odds are… pretty slim.”

“Well… just because you’re likely to lose doesn’t mean it’s worthless.”

“You and your words, seriously.”

Hyesung snorted.

But Seonwoo meant it.

He knew the lead was beyond him. He knew losing was likely.

But even if the results didn’t follow — the process still had meaning.

Of course, to make the process meaningful… he needed to give everything he had.

He opened the script.

The main production this season: Until You Live for Me.

The story was as follows.

The protagonist, Heejae, has always secretly loved his childhood friend, Yebin.

But on the day he decides to confess, Yebin throws herself into the Han River.

As Heejae falls into despair, a fairy appears and offers him a chance to go back — and stop Yebin from wanting to die.

The way to go back in time?

To die the same way Yebin did.

Heejae jumps without hesitation and returns to his middle-school days.

He rescues Yebin from being bullied, returns to the future — and she kills herself again.

So Heejae throws away his life once more and goes back.

Again and again, he erases each reason that led Yebin to suicide.

This is good.

Seonwoo’s eyes sparkled.

Heejae’s base color was pink — the color of love.

On top of that pink, cracks of blood-red would appear depending on the situation… patches of moss-green rising up…

And Seonwoo had to make all those colors his own.

This audition wasn’t for a specific scene.

He wouldn’t know what part he’d be performing until he stepped onto the stage.

He had to be ready to deliver any scene flawlessly.

Lines weren’t the problem.

He’d always memorized easily — and had practically memorized everything on the first day.

So he focused entirely on acting practice.

Acting wasn’t that different from studying.

The more time you invest, the better the result.

If he invested more time than anyone — he figured he could at least be competitive.

…But two days later, he realized there was a problem he hadn’t thought of.

“Like this, and— cough, cough!”

His throat.

Before joining the troupe, the director had given him basic vocal training.

But it was only the basics — just enough to understand diaphragmatic breathing and resonance.

His technique was still weak.

So whenever his concentration slipped even a bit, his throat took the damage.

It was like that when he played Seung-do, too.

But Seung-do barely had any lines — so even if he strained, it wasn’t too bad.

Heejae, though, had far too many.

He could feel his throat deteriorating.

…What do I do?

He wanted to ask for help — but everyone was busy preparing for auditions.

And honestly… he felt self-conscious.

Even if they understood, a rookie aiming for the lead wasn’t exactly going to be seen favorably.

And asking for help on top of that?

Someone actually did scold him.

Of course, it was Seojin-uk.

“You really think going for the lead makes sense for you right now?”

“Sunbae.”

“What. Say it.”

“I know I’m still lacking.”

And Seonwoo answered him head-on.

“But if I’m lacking… does that mean my goals have to be small too?”

“…”

He didn’t expect Seojin-uk to understand.

He thought he’d nitpick whatever he said.

But unexpectedly, Seojin-uk said nothing.

He just gave him a disapproving look and walked away.

Whether he understood or simply had no comeback — Seonwoo didn’t know.

Just don’t think about it.

But of course, he kept thinking about it.

What if the other seniors felt the same?

The more anxious he became, the harder he practiced.

He couldn’t be that rookie who aimed for the lead and slacked off.

And besides — he did feel his shortcomings deeply.

Naturally, his throat got worse.

On the third day of preparation—

Just as panic was setting in, Minhee and Hyesung stood in front of him, arms folded.

“Kim Seonwoo.”

“Yes? What’s up?”

“We tried to ignore it… sorry. We can’t.”

At first, he thought they were going to scold him.

Like — Didn’t I tell you the lead was too much? Why are you so stubborn?

But what they said was unexpected.

“If you keep practicing like that, you’re going to destroy your throat. You need proper vocal training first.”

“Vocal training?”

“Yeah. We’ll teach you.”

…He was moved.

He hadn’t imagined they’d help him like this.

At first, he tried to refuse — worried about taking their audition time.

But they were firm.

“If us helping you a little makes us fail — then we didn’t deserve it anyway.”

…He had never seen them look so cool.

He really felt glad he’d joined this troupe.

When he first came, it felt like everyone hated him — but now they were taking care of him like this.

“You know your voice isn’t stable, right?”

“Yes. I can feel my throat getting worse lately…”

“Then why didn’t you ask us for help? What do you think seniors are for?”

“I just… felt bad.”

“If you wreck your throat alone, that’s what’s really bad.”

Hyesung grumbled and continued.

“Let’s start with resonance. Follow me — ah—.”

“Ah—.”

“No. Do that and your throat dies. Minhee. Show him.”

“Okay. A——.”

“See that? Don’t push the sound. Think of resonating it.”

“If the sound won’t come out, your body’s stiff — not your lungs. Relax. Again. A——!”

“A——!”

He followed their coaching desperately.

Opportunities like this didn’t come often.

And honestly, he had another calculation.

If he could fix this vocal problem — maybe the lead wouldn’t be quite so far away.

“Follow this experienced instructor. Voice backwards! Tighten your core! Good! Repeat — ayao yo u yu eui!”

“A— ayao yo u yu eui!”

Yeah. Work hard.

“Gwak-gwak-gwak! Bak-bak-bak! Dak-dak-dak!”

“Gwak-gwak-gwak! Bak-bak-bak! Dak-dak-gak!”

Work really hard…

“Your pronunciation collapsed! Again! Gwak-gwak-gwak! Bak-bak-bak! Dak-dak-dak!”

“Gwak-gwak-gwak! Bak-bak-bak! Dak-dak-dak!”

…This really is how you practice, right?