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Chapter 21
As expected, this kid really is a genius.
Seonjun slowly clapped as well.
Even though Seonwoo had been cast as an understudy, Seonjun had assumed he must have grown more than expected.
But seeing it in person, Seonwoo’s acting went far beyond his imagination.
At this level…
It honestly felt like he could take on a main role, not just an understudy.
The play ended.
For nearly two hours, the audience had held their breath. Now, murmurs burst out from all directions.
“Insane… that actor was amazing.”
“I was worried when they suddenly changed the lead, but… it’s Cheongsong after all.”
“Isn’t that guy the one from Confession? The guy who said he’d kill someone?”
“Yeah, yeah. I thought his acting was good back then too, but today he was on another level.”
Jeonghee’s ears twitched.
Hearing people praise Seonwoo from everywhere made it impossible not to notice.
No. This isn’t the time.
She couldn’t simply be happy just because her son was being praised.
Jeonghee turned to Seonjun.
“…Explain. What on earth is going on here?”
“Seonwoo started acting. I encouraged him.”
“You encouraged him?”
“Yes. He clearly has talent.”
“Haa…”
A headache came on.
Even just the fact that Seonjun worked in film had worried them as parents. Though he was doing relatively well now, the future was still unstable.
At least Seonwoo had been steadily walking an elite path—that had been reassuring.
And now acting? What kind of thunderbolt was this?
Seonjun easily read the concern on her face.
Looking at her seriously, he spoke.
“How long do you think Seonwoo’s been acting?”
“Don’t tell me it’s been years already?”
That wouldn’t have been strange, given his skill.
What Seonwoo showed wasn’t something you could build in a day or two.
But Seonjun shook his head.
“About four months.”
“…Four months?”
Disbelief spread across Jeonghee’s face.
She didn’t know acting well, but even she knew that level couldn’t come from just four months.
Seeing her reaction, Seonjun straightened his shoulders confidently.
“I told you. He has talent.”
“…Are you saying Seonwoo’s some kind of genius?”
This time, it was Youngsik who asked.
Unlike Jeonghee, Youngsik’s eyes weren’t filled only with confusion. Perhaps Seonwoo’s acting had left a strong impression—his gaze even seemed to sparkle slightly.
Finding an opening, Seonjun’s eyes lit up.
“Yes. A genius. He doesn’t fall behind any actor I’ve seen.”
Maybe he even surpassed them.
But Seonjun didn’t say that out loud. Overdoing it might make him sound less credible.
Fortunately, his restraint worked.
Youngsik wrapped an arm around Jeonghee’s shoulders.
“Well, instead of blaming Seonjun… let’s talk to Seonwoo.”
“…About what?”
“If they went through all this trouble to prepare a surprise like this… doesn’t it mean he has something he wants to say?”
Jeonghee sighed.
She already knew what that “something” was.
Her head was starting to hurt, but she had to listen.
That was a parent’s role.
“…Where is Seonwoo now?”
His heart hurt.
There was no need to explain how nervous Seonwoo had been before stepping on stage.
It was his first time playing a lead role… and his parents were in the audience.
But the moment he stepped onto the stage, that tension vanished like a mirage.
The moment he was dyed in Heejae’s colors, the only thing he could think about was expressing them.
Of course, once the performance ended, the worries he’d forgotten came rushing back.
Was it good? What did my parents think?
The curtain call gave him his answer.
Deafening cheers and applause filled the theater.
Amid that overwhelming praise—something he’d never experienced before—the first thing that caught Seonwoo’s eye was his parents’ hands.
Clapping for him, just like everyone else.
Had he… been acknowledged?
Holding onto that hope, he looked into his mother’s eyes—and flinched.
…They were burning intensely.
The same look she always had right before scolding him.
And sure enough—
“What were you thinking?”
That night, Seonwoo found himself in a family meeting for the first time in a long while.
He looked at his parents with an awkward smile.
“You must’ve been really surprised.”
“Of course we were. You were such a well-behaved kid growing up… why all of a sudden? Did your brother rub off on you?”
“Mom, why am I getting dragged into this?”
“Be quiet!”
Jeonghee glared at Seonjun.
Startled, he shut his mouth. Watching this, Seonwoo wiped sweat from his brow.
They’d clapped during the curtain call, so he thought maybe things would go well… but clearly it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Mom. I’m sorry.”
“That’s not the point. What are you planning to do?”
“…I want to act.”
“Do you know how hard and hungry that life is?”
“I do.”
Seonwoo nodded.
If you succeeded, sure, you wouldn’t starve.
And Seonwoo had some faith. If he kept going like this, someday he’d shine.
But now wasn’t the time to talk about vague confidence.
“Please give me some time.”
“And if we do?”
“I’ll become an actor you won’t need to worry about.”
“……”
Instead of replying, Jeonghee simply stared at him.
Seonwoo met her gaze without saying anything. There was nothing more he could say.
Without results, all he could offer was effort.
Then—
Youngsik, who had been silent, finally spoke.
“Seonwoo.”
“Yes.”
“You were good. Maybe it’s because you’re my son, but… you didn’t feel inferior to the actors on TV.”
At that, Seonwoo felt his throat tighten.
He hadn’t expected to hear that from his father.
But Youngsik wasn’t finished.
“But no matter what you do, you need a Plan B. If things go perfectly, that’s great… but in my experience, life doesn’t work that way.”
He looked straight at Seonwoo.
“Challenging yourself is fine. But it shouldn’t be an endless challenge. Why don’t you set a deadline for yourself?”
“A deadline…”
“Yes. How much time do you want?”
Seonwoo thought for a moment.
Then answered.
“Give me two years.”
“…Are you sure two years will be enough?”
“Yes.”
He nodded firmly.
“It’s enough.”
“Hyung, great work!”
“Yo, Seonwoo! You were amazing yesterday!”
“At this point, you can just be a lead.”
The day after his first substitute lead performance, everyone at Cheongsong greeted him noisily.
On the actual performance day, he’d been dragged off by his parents and couldn’t even attend the after-party.
Among those welcoming him was Jaewon.
“Good job. Thanks to you, I could finally breathe again.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better. I think I can be back on stage from the next show…”
Seeing Seonwoo’s expression, Jaewon smiled teasingly.
“You look a bit disappointed. Were you hoping I’d stay sick longer?”
“…No way.”
Was it that obvious?
Seonwoo quickly fixed his expression. Hyeseong chuckled at him.
“You left early because of your parents yesterday. Did things work out?”
“Yeah, you hadn’t told them you were acting, right?”
“…I did tell them. They even supported me.”
“Wow, that’s a relief. Getting support in this field isn’t easy. Your parents are pretty open-minded.”
Seonwoo told them everything—how he’d gotten permission in exchange for promising to establish himself within two years.
The moment he said that, the others’ expressions grew uneasy.
“Two years is… pretty brutal. Why’d you say two?”
“Well, honestly…”
He scratched his head.
He wished he could say something cool like I’m confident I’ll succeed no matter what!
But the truth wasn’t that grand.
“If I said three years or more, I felt like they wouldn’t agree.”
“…That does make sense. But two years is seriously tough. From now on, you’ll have to constantly send out portfolios. Auditions, shoots, broadcasts, building recognition—everything has to go perfectly to settle in within two years.”
“Hyeseong’s right. In this industry, getting opportunities is harder than acting well.”
Seonwoo nodded quietly.
Then Minhee suddenly asked,
“What about life at the troupe?”
Silence fell.
It was a topic everyone had been avoiding.
If you focused on outside auditions, you’d inevitably neglect troupe life.
That was one of the biggest reasons people left.
But Seonwoo had thought about this too.
“If you all don’t mind… I want to go back and forth.”
“Back and forth?”
“Yes. Do broadcast work and troupe work. I really love acting here.”
He meant it.
Even if he became famous one day, he wanted to keep returning to Cheongsong’s stage.
The feeling of breathing with the audience face-to-face—that was something cameras couldn’t give.
Didn’t Doyoung say he’d come back someday too?
Standing on stage with him then sounded wonderful.
Minhee shrugged in understanding.
“Well, then we don’t have to worry about never seeing you again.”
“Honestly, lots of people here do the same thing. How many don’t send portfolios to film auditions?”
“That’s true. But him… it feels like he’ll establish himself over there pretty fast.”
“Yeah, I get that feeling too.”
“…You’re flattering me.”
He hadn’t expected such sudden praise.
Seonwoo felt his face heat up. Minhee giggled.
“Still, don’t get carried away. You might run around auditions and end up with nothing—still only at Cheongsong two years from now.”
“…That’d be really sad.”
“Exactly. So grab your chances well. Keep your eyes wide open. You never know when or where an opportunity will come.”
She was right.
He couldn’t just smile and enjoy acting anymore. He had to constantly think about where and how to act.
So that very day, Seonwoo went to a studio and took profile photos.
You couldn’t send out portfolios without them.
But even after preparing everything… finding auditions was harder than expected.
He searched every site where auditions were posted, but there were hardly any roles he could apply for.
Supporting roles were all closed auditions.
Even bit parts didn’t really fit him.
So he started looking into image roles.
What were those? Think of them as a slightly upgraded extra.
For example, when a bunch of detectives appear, you’re one of them—just standing there, looking like a detective.
Even that wasn’t easy.
Image roles usually required very distinct looks—rough, sleazy, pathetic.
Unfortunately, Seonwoo didn’t fit any of those.
People often said he was handsome… but “handsome image roles” weren’t exactly common.
He did get one chance.
A crime drama. A small role dancing in a club.
But it was nothing.
He just danced with other model-turned-extras, and the shoot ended.
Calling it acting was generous.
“Thank you for your hard work!”
Still, this could’ve been an opportunity.
Seonwoo bowed deeply to every staff member, greeting them one by one.
Maybe he’d leave an impression.
But nothing happened.
The staff barely seemed to notice him.
A few female staff complimented his looks, but… that was it.
Still, Seonwoo didn’t get discouraged.
If there were no opportunities, he’d just work harder to find them.
When he wasn’t practicing acting, he was searching for auditions.
Still, there were no real roles.
Most of what he could do were extra jobs.
Extras didn’t really allow meaningful acting… but he still did his best.
Even as a restaurant customer, he tried to be as natural as possible.
Honestly, he hoped—just a little—
You there, your posture today was excellent. Want to try a supporting role?
Or—
One of our actors dropped out due to personal reasons. Anyone here able to stand in?
But those kinds of lucky breaks only happened in novels.
The production staff barely looked at extras.
That’s when Seonwoo started feeling a sense of crisis.
…Can I really establish myself in two years like this?
The seniors’ words came back to him.
Getting opportunities is harder than acting well.
It was true.
To seize an opportunity, you first had to be seen—but the opportunities themselves were invisible.
With Eunseok leaving for film shoots and Doyoung being scouted by Director Yoo Chanwoo, Chungmuro had felt close.
It wasn’t.
The more he knew, the more he saw.
Only after stepping into the field did he realize how high and solid the wall truly was.
But what choice did he have?
He couldn’t turn back just because the wall was tall.
Beyond it lay the world he wanted.
So he had to climb it.
No matter what.
And then—
The opportunity came in a way Seonwoo never expected.
It was near the end of the quarter.
Cheongsong was starting to prepare for a new season… when Jihwan gathered everyone.
As soon as the members saw him, they tilted their heads.
A middle-aged man they’d never seen before stood beside him.
Jihwan cleared his throat.
“Ahem. I gathered you today because there’s something to announce. This gentleman is a senior from my school… PD Im Youngdo from YBS. Sunbae, would you like to explain?”
“Yes, yes. Hello everyone. I’m here today because I’m looking for participants for a program I’m producing.”
“…May we ask what kind of program?”
The actors’ eyes sparkled.
They wondered if he was here to cast a drama.
But it wasn’t a drama.
“We’re planning an actor audition program. Normally, applicants submit videos and go through document screening before preliminaries—but since Cheongsong members are already proven, we’d like to let you skip straight to the preliminaries.”
“YBS is making an actor audition show?”
“Actors get audition programs too?”
“…Skipping document screening?”
The members murmured in surprise.
It was sudden, and no one quite knew how to take it.
But Seonwoo’s eyes shone.
He didn’t know all the details—
But one thing was certain.
…This is it.
He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.
He had to grab it.
