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Episode 4
It was a feeling of having one’s breath completely cut off.
They say when you witness a talent you cannot surpass, you feel that kind of oppressive pressure.
Throughout her decades-long acting career, Sung Hye-sim had never felt that way because of a counterpart.
There were plenty of great actors around, but they were all at a similar level to her. She, too, had reached a pinnacle of acting skill.
But.
‘What on earth was that just now…’
She was just a girl barely twenty years old. A friend’s niece. Not even a former child actor—a complete rookie, so to speak.
And yet, Sung Hyesim had been overwhelmed by Joo Saei’s expression.
Without uttering a single line, her decades-honed acting instincts had reacted to Sae-i.
‘It was Do-hoon.’
‘Son’ Ye-on Do-hoon, among the main character’s family, was a figure who had repeatedly ranked first in his school and gotten into a prestigious university.
However, this was all a choice compelled by his mother. Having lived without his own will, Do-hoon locks his door after his university acceptance.
But neither the house nor the tiny room could become freedom for Do-hoon. In the end, he ends his own life a day before his high school graduation ceremony.
This was the past segment.
The main story of Your Blue Name is about the mother who, shocked by the loss of her son, neglects her daughter for three years, and the daughter who grew up tough all on her own.
The reason she chose the scene where the son, facing death for the first and last time, confronts his mother was to test Joo Sae-i.
The first episode script contained the main characters’ childhoods.
Thinking Sae-i would have focused only on the lines of the female protagonist—the same gender and with the most lines—Hye-sim had thrown a curve ball.
“It was all Mom’s fault… Just open the door, okay? Son…”
As she delivered the line, managed her gaze, and observed the expression…
The pale complexion and whites of the eyes immediately tinged bloodshot. Pupils brimming with injustice and emptiness. The eyelids trembling subtly and lips clenched tight before a first-ever act of defiance.
‘A child enacting the cruelest revenge with the gentlest of hearts.’
The son who resents the mother who controlled his life. A son who, even while resolved to rebel through death, feels sorry for the mother who would grieve him, ultimately pitying his mother until the very end…
The Saei reflected in Hyesim’s eyes was Dohoon himself. That’s why her acting had broken.
‘I made a mistake. I need to focus…’
Just as Hye-sim tried to regain her emotions, Joo Sae-i opened her mouth.
“…Are you okay?”
“Ah, sorry. I was momentarily distracted.”
Joo Sae-i seemed to have immediately noticed that Hye-sim was shaken.
Hye-sim couldn’t control her trembling lips.
‘She can use her expression that masterfully, then switch it off like turning off a power and return to reality? Moreover, she realized my acting faltered in that brief moment.’
Ah, she wanted her. It felt like a fire was rekindling for her passion for acting, which had been cooling.
‘Not yet. If we get into the actual dialogue, she might crumble…’
Even as she told herself not to get her hopes up too soon, her heart still raced.
“Shall we try matching again? The scene from just before, the part where Do-hoon transitions into a monologue.”
With the signal to resume the reading, Hye-sim reflected on the line she had just delivered.
“Don’t you even care if Mom is upset? Open the door. Talk to Mom. Huh? Do-hoon-ah,
Yeon-do-hoon!”
This wasn’t a filming set. Therefore, all an actor reading lines could rely on was their own voice.
“You got into Daehan University, what’s the problem that you’re rotting your mom’s heart who never worried a day in her life!”
Hye-sim’s line ended. Though it was just a reading, the image of the mother shaking the doorknob , glaring at the closed door, was vividly painted.
Now it was Sae-i’s turn to respond.
“…I was rotting Mom’s heart?”
A voice different from Sae-i’s, one with a boyish quality, dominated the space.
The image of Do-hoon coming out of his room in funeral-like outdoor clothes naturally came to mind.
“‘You got into Daehan University, what’s the problem?’… It wouldn’t be a problem for you, Mom. It’s the university you wanted so badly. But Mom. To say I was rotting your heart… Did you ever even give me a choice to do otherwise?”
Sae-i, having become Do-hoon, let out a frail breath. As if even this conversation was hard to bear, she narrowed her eyes.
Her expression changed fluidly, second by second—no, in even more minute increments.
“I did everything I was told. Because if I did well, Mom would smile. Because even that smile was rare. After Dad passed away, Mom, Mom!”
Sae-i added variation to Do-hoon’s voice, which had only been frail until now.
A child who didn’t even know how to get angry, letting out his first shout from the frustration rising to his head.
With that expression, a wounded, rough voice burst forth.
The empty VIP lounge of the atrium resonated with the impassioned yet clear, unwavering enunciation.
A moment of silence. And then.
“Mom… only smiled on the days I brought home my report card.”
The volume became calm again. The line overlapping with an exhale evoked a sense of emptiness in the viewer.
“Do-hoon-ah, that was all because I wanted the best for our son…”
“Do you think I’ll do well living like this?”
Do-hoon cut off his mother’s words and sneered.
“Everything’s wrong now. I used to smile when Mom smiled… But living feels like the wrong answer. Mom’s smile, the schedule Mom made, even me, who thought of Mom’s smiling face the moment the acceptance screen appeared…”
“…”
“I’m done. I’m just sick of it all, me.”
As if even this conversation was useless, the voice announcing weariness was flat, without highs or lows. It was the moment Do-hoon had truly decided to end things.
‘Ah, no.’
Hye-sim’s lips trembled slightly. According to the script, the scene should end with the mother, unable to bear the humiliation from her child, driving Do-hoon out.
But.
‘I want to stop him…’
The Do-hoon before her eyes looked so precarious, she just wanted to hold the child. It felt wrong to let him go outside like this.
Even though she knew from the script she wouldn’t see him again, the intuition that, as the mother in the drama, she would never see her son again sent shivers down her spine.
Hye-sim hesitated to deliver the final line. If this were an actual shoot, the director would have called “NG.”
The silence stretched, and just as she finally managed to control her wandering thoughts and parted her tightly sealed lips…
“…I’m going out for a walk. Sorry for getting angry, Mom.”
In the same flat tone, Do-hoon delivered a line not in the script. It was an ad-lib.
“Let’s have dinner together later.”
The final note trembled. Because he, who knew better than anyone that leaving the house now meant never returning, was lying, the eyes of the good son wavered.
The end of the chosen scene.
Even though there had been no movement during the reading, the image of Do-hoon leaving through the front door lingered before her eyes.
“…Whew.”
Sae-i, having finished the reading, returned to her usual self.
The bloodless face of Do-hoon vanished, and vitality returned.
Emerging from her immersion, Sae-i let out a long breath toward the floor.
The atrium, which had been filled with their two voices, was now oppressively quiet.
Having collected her emotions, Sae-i cautiously raised her head.
Across from her, Sung Hye-sim was staring at her intently. A stiff face. The emotion contained within it was utterly unreadable.
‘Was it too much?’
She had improvised the line because Hye-sim wouldn’t finish the scene no matter how long she waited. Perhaps that ad-lib was unsatisfactory?
In her past life, she had received high praise from Sung Hye-sim, but she didn’t know what kind of evaluation she would get now.
With a worried heart, Sae-i looked at her aunt. Her aunt also looked dazed, just like Sung Hye-sim.
‘I think I messed up…’
Just as Sae-i opened her mouth to apologize,
“No…”
Hye-sim preempted her.
“That last line, you came up with it on the spot, right?”
“Ah, yes! It felt like it was flowing differently from the script…”
“Do-hoon dies after this, doesn’t he? So what was the reason for saying ‘Let’s have dinner together later’?”
Questions followed. Hye-sim raised an eyebrow as she watched Sae-i choose her answer.
“I saw your expression before I said the line. But it was different from the stage direction saying you’d frown from humiliation…”
“Different how?”
“It looked like you were about to cry and hug your son right then and there, actor’s ‘mother’ was. Seeing that, I thought Do-hoon, for that moment at least, would have wanted to comfort his mom.”
Hye-sim’s face, listening silently, twisted oddly.
“Because Do-hoon resents the mother who controlled him but also aches for her. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore the mother in front of him until the very end.”
Sae-i chewed her lip, waiting for Hye-sim’s response.
“Hmm…”
Hye-sim, who had been trailing off, suddenly rummaged in her handbag.
What was soon extended to Sae-i with a benevolent smile was,
“Miss Say, could you give me your phone number?”
Her cell phone.
