Rookie but One-in-a-Million Actor

Chapter 4

First Time Acting?

“Gasp!”

The silence was broken by Junho’s astonished gasp. He quickly covered his mouth, watching his friend. It felt unfamiliar—so unfamiliar that it gave him goosebumps.

“Should I keep going?”

Mooyoung paused briefly and asked, as he usually stopped after each gesture. Ohseok, however, leaned into the monitor and replied,

“Keep going. Show everything you want to without stopping.”

Although Ohseok’s tone had become casual, no one noticed. Mooyoung was completely focused, and everyone else was too amazed by his acting.

‘Didn’t he say this was his first time?’

Ohseok had started acting as a college freshman. He had met countless seasoned actors, but this was a first. How could a beginner express such an emotional range?

Ohseok was almost pressing his nose against the screen, utterly engrossed.

“If possible, show anger besides love too.”

Mooyoung quietly nodded and turned his attention to Bora. What started as a light-hearted task had become overwhelming for her.

‘Oh no.’

She felt dominated by her partner’s presence. Despite countless acting experiences, looking into Mooyoung’s eyes made her feel like his actual lover.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Keep going.”

Mooyoung whispered quietly. As soon as Bora responded, he delved back into the scene. This time, he lightly touched her earlobe and then traced his finger down to her chin.

‘This guy is crazy. Totally nuts.’

Junho watched nervously through his fingers. It felt like intruding on their private moment, leaving him breathless.

‘He called me a playboy, but he’s way worse.’

Mooyoung continued to express love using only his fingers.

Sensuality beneath the chin.

Mature intimacy through the eyebrows.

Playful first love below the nose.

“I’ll stop with the love here.”

Mooyoung paused to change the subject. As he caught his breath, he noticed the entranced faces around him. The stiffness from his first time in front of the camera was gone.

‘What’s so strange?’

Especially Junho’s reaction. His friend looked shocked, as if he had witnessed something incredible. The students were no different.

‘Isn’t this a test?’

‘I thought he said it was his first time acting.’

‘He’s a senior like me?’

‘Wow. Damn. That’s talent.’

‘Which acting school did he apply to? He’ll definitely be the top student.’

They, like Junho, were experiencing their own form of shock. The principal, with a slightly flushed voice, made a request.

“Try delivering lines when you’re angry.”

“Lines?”

It was clear Mooyoung wasn’t a beginner, so the principal wanted to check his vocal projection and breathing. Mooyoung moved a chair and thanked Bora.

“You can leave now. Thank you.”

Bora sat down, biting her lip. She felt a flush of heat. Along with the passion she felt as his lover, she experienced a sense of inferiority for the first time. She lowered her head naturally to hide her expression.

“But I don’t know any lines.”

“TV dramas or popular phrases are fine.”

“Hmm.”

Mooyoung thought for a moment and recalled a morning drama. It was a sensational drama known for its exaggerated scenes, like the infamous kimchi slap and modern-day versions of Heungbu and Nolbu.

“Haha! Hahaha-!”

Honestly, he hadn’t watched the drama, but he intended to mimic a popular clip he had seen. Mooyoung concentrated to recall it.

“Is it because you’ve lived as a parasite your whole life? How impressive. A rice paddle? Haha!”

As he uttered the lines, a question arose in his mind. What’s the difference between impersonation and acting?

“Alright. Let’s give it a shot.”

Thanks to the word “rice paddle,” people recognized the drama Mooyoung was performing. The famous scene played out in everyone’s minds.

‘How will he do it?’

When performing an existing work, there are usually two outcomes. Either you enhance it or get overshadowed by it.

“I’ll kill you all.”

Mooyoung wiped imaginary rice grains from his cheek with his right hand and crushed them with his fist. So far, it was the same.

“I’ll kill you-!”

But then he went further, scratching the desk with his nails. The sticky, humiliating image of crushed rice grains brought the character’s wretchedness to life.

“That’s the end.”

As Mooyoung said this, everyone exhaled the breath they had been holding. Unspoken glances were exchanged.

‘He is a beginner after all.’

Ohseok thought the same. He straightened up and shifted his gaze from the monitor to the real Mooyoung.

“I didn’t know the rest of the lines.”

His vocal projection and breathing were indeed those of an amateur.

‘Although, technically, he’s not a complete novice.’

Considering it was his first time, he delivered the lines exceptionally well, but the extraordinary emotional conveyance he had shown before made this look relatively lesser.

“Mooyoung, is this really your first time acting?”

“Yes, it is.”

Ohseok twisted his short beard, deep in thought. The students, unable to hold back, started commenting.

“Wow. That’s amazing, you.”

“Which acting school did you apply to?”

“You’ve never performed before?”

Their disbelief was mixed with appropriate amazement and jealousy. Mooyoung nodded, feeling bewildered.

“…It’s my first time.”

The principal, while packing up the camera equipment, addressed the students.

“Alright, everyone. Watch your videos and think about what needs improvement. Submit your notes to me, and we’ll shoot again. This time, practice both love and anger. Mooyoung, stay back for a moment.”

As Ohseok pushed Mooyoung forward, Junho quickly packed his bag and stood up.

Thud-

The door closed, but the chaos in the practice room didn’t settle quickly. Yuchan clucked his tongue as he fiddled with his laptop.

“That was insane.”

“Right? Born to be. Born to be.”

Only a single time, just a few minutes, yet everyone could instinctively tell. Mooyoung was born to act.

“Bora.”

Yuchan called out to Bora, who was sitting quietly. She was trying to hide it, but it was clear something was off.

From long-term feelings of inadequacy to short-term disillusionment.

“Are you okay?”

“…What could be wrong?”

Bora looked dazed. Understandably so, as she had been acting since she was a child.

But as time went by, her achievements and growth were slow, and the path of acting became increasingly challenging.

‘The difference in talent.’

It felt like running as hard as she could, only to have Usain Bolt casually pass her by. Bora let out a short, hollow laugh.

—

“Hey. What was that earlier?”

“What do you mean? Acting.”

“Why were you touching her face like that?”

“Because it’s a loving relationship. I mean, it’s acting like a loving relationship.”

Whisper, whisper. The two friends bickered endlessly. When Ohseok sat down on the sofa, Mooyoung hesitated and called out to him.

“Excuse me, principal.”

Since he didn’t plan to attend, further consultation seemed like a bother. Mooyoung smiled and made an excuse to leave.

“Thanks for the consultation, but I have an appointment-”

“Oh? Right. We’re late.”

“I’ll take the pamphlet and think about it.”

Mooyoung discreetly nudged Junho’s side, signaling to leave quickly. However, Ohseok had no intention of letting them, or rather Mooyoung, go.

What is the most crucial factor in the competitiveness of an acting academy?

‘Audition success rate.’

Or

‘Producing famous actors.’

In some ways, they are closely related. A high audition success rate increases media exposure, eventually leading to famous actors emerging from there.

‘I must keep him.’

Ohseok loved aspiring actors.

He particularly cherished the pure determination of those who decided to pursue acting. However, in this case, with a uniquely outstanding potential like this kid…

“Mooyoung.”

As a principal, he was interested, but as an actor, Mooyoung was a gem. A crazy talent. The desire to nurture that potential was overwhelming.

“Sit down for a moment.”

Ohseok carefully chose his words.

He had to somehow reel this kid in!

“You have talent.”

“Excuse me? Oh, thank you.”

How clueless. He clearly didn’t understand the depth of the ‘talent’ Ohseok was talking about.

“You can’t touch innate abilities, but you’re naturally gifted. If you just supplement the parts that can be trained, really…”

What could he become?

The unimaginable future of this kid made Ohseok silent. Instead, thoughts of what he wanted to teach him flooded his mind.

Expressing emotions. Memorizing lines. Muscle movements. Voice projection. Breathing. Even intuition and patience on set.

‘Ahh! It’s driving me crazy!’

“Understanding emotional expression instinctively is an incredible advantage. There are countless aspiring actors who struggle because they can’t do that, no matter how hard they try.”

Mooyoung nodded blankly. The unexpected praise felt surreal.

And rightly so, as he had no idea about his special talent until graduating high school. If it weren’t for that incident, Mooyoung might have lived his whole life unaware of his talent.

“To be honest, join our academy. I want to personally guide you.”

“Pardon?”

He meant private lessons in addition to regular classes. He wanted to act with this unprecedented genius, not just as a principal and student but as a mentor and mentee, mutually inspiring each other.

“Uh, well…”

However, Mooyoung’s expression only grew more troubled.

What’s bothering him?

Ohseok quickly added,

“I’ll only charge the basic fee.”

He meant the premium class fee of 300,000 won. Ohseok swallowed hard, waiting for the kid’s answer.

“I’m sorry.”

But a firm rejection.

The principal started to feel desperate.

‘Is he planning to look at other academies? Or is this the last place he’s checking after seeing others? Right. No fool would let such talent slip away. Damn it. But I’m confident…’

Various thoughts tangled in Ohseok’s mind. He was silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Do you have other places in mind?”

This is it. If desperate, go for the direct approach!

“Uh, um…”

“Then try attending three trial classes. Of course, other teachers might be excellent too, but BV has its own-”

“It’s not that.”

Mooyoung interrupted Ohseok’s enthusiastic speech. His gaze was genuinely troubled. Junho felt the same.

“…What’s the problem?”

“Sorry. We can’t afford it.”

“What?”

Ohseok repeated the words in his mind.

Can’t afford it? Money?

“I was just thinking of getting some information. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Right. Just wanted to check the price. Hehe.”

Junho also helped, chiming in to support Mooyoung. He pulled his friend’s sleeve, signaling to get up.

“Well. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Goodbye.”

With no response from Ohseok, they hurried out of the academy. While all sorts of plans were racing through Ohseok’s mind, Mooyoung and Junho were unaware.

“Phew. I feel bad about this.”

“Right? I might get indigestion from the tteokbokki we had earlier.”

Tap, tap.

They hurried down the stairs, but then they heard another set of footsteps from behind. Ohseok was following them.

“Hey, Mooyoung.”

The two friends edged towards the wall in fear. Ready to run if necessary, they communicated wordlessly with signals.

“Then let me make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

However, what Ohseok proposed was unexpected.

“Just attend the classes. Work with me. But you have to list our academy as your origin if you get cast or succeed later.”

“What do you mean…”

“Don’t go anywhere else. Come to me.”

Mooyoung blinked and looked at Junho. Was he understanding this correctly?

“So, you’re saying the classes are free?”

It was an offer filled with confidence in their future success, including potential casting opportunities. Though Mooyoung and Junho didn’t realize it, Ohseok had already done the math.

“It’s an investment.”

He raised his eyebrows, urging a response. Mooyoung slowly turned to look at the building entrance. Pollen was still fluttering in the air outside.

“…Thank you for the offer.”

What in the world is happening?

It was the first time he had ever received such kindness and expectation.

Mooyoung still stared at the pollen, smiling.

“No need to thank me. Think of it as business.”

Ohseok sighed in relief, thinking he might have been disappointed if they had declined. Just then,

“But I have a proposal too.”