Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Drama Club Drama
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Correct.
(4) Drama Club.
"I'm good at studying, but I don't have anything on my student record showing leadership or teamwork."
...was just an excuse.
I'd joined because Seo Jae-kyeom's Facebook was always full of theater posters he'd seen, which sparked my interest in the past too.
You end up liking what the person you like enjoys, right?
Plus, Han Ji-su was joining the drama club, so I tagged along without a second thought.
"Though Seo Jae-kyeom himself is in archery or basketball or something."
After regressing, I'd briefly considered switching clubs, but since we were already eating lunch separately most days, changing clubs too would probably upset Ji-su, so I stuck with it.
But this drama club had one fatal flaw.
Namely.
"Jeong Eun-seong?"
The fact that Jeong Eun-seong was in the drama club too...
Han Ji-su, who'd opened the clubroom door, spotted him already sitting there and her eyes went wide.
Jeong Eun-seong just glanced up at her, then looked away without a greeting.
"Eun-seong here decided to join the drama club starting today."
The drama club advisor said from behind me, where I stood feeling awkward.
Ji-su timidly greeted the tall teacher in a crisp white shirt, his face mild and clean-cut.
"Hello..."
"Yeah. Hi."
Yi Mong-ryong, the history teacher.
Early thirties. Seoul National University grad. His wife was two years older, an accountant from the same school.
Mild-mannered, but strict on student behavior issues.
As far as I remembered, Ji-su had gotten scolded by him once in first year.
She rarely got in trouble from teachers, so she'd been wary of him ever since, but I actually liked him quite a bit. Fair, clear standards, no favoritism based on grades.
Coincidentally, he was one of the two teachers with bad rumors involving Do-yeon.
Yi Mong-ryong teacher turned to me for confirmation.
"Da-hye, you're in the same class as Eun-seong, right?"
"Yes."
"Close?"
"Sworn enemies."
"Why's that?"
The teacher chuckled as he set his book on the desk.
The first-year girls who'd joined for their own reasons—and hit the jackpot with Jeong Eun-seong—watched with sparkling eyes and flushed faces.
It got even more intense after the teacher counted heads, closed the clubroom door, and declared, "Drama club's roster is full now. No more members."
"Hi."
While I chatted with the teacher, Ji-su, who'd sat down first, warmly greeted Jeong Eun-seong.
"I'm Han Ji-su, from Class 1. You're Jeong Eun-seong, right?"
"Yeah."
"You're super popular in our class."
"..."
"Why'd you pick drama club over band? You like theater?"
Yeah, why are you here?
I'd wondered that even before regressing.
He was an aspiring singer with an agency already, so I'd figured he'd join some club just to sleep through or ditch early.
Theater out of nowhere?
And I remembered him being pretty dedicated to club stuff too.
Even took the lead role.
"With Jeong Eun-seong joining, selling out tickets won't be a problem this year."
Excited, Ji-su chattered on.
I was taking off my cardigan as I listened to Ji-su, the club president, give him her number. That's when Jeong Eun-seong, chin propped on his hand, looked my way.
"...What?"
"Why are you here?"
"...Because I'm interested in theater?"
"Hm."
What? So what?
I scowled in that vein, and he smirked.
Ominous...
"Han Ji-su."
"Yeah? What's up, Eun-seong?"
"We're deciding the end-of-semester play today, right?"
"Yep..."
"Let's do a musical."
"A musical?"
"A musical out of nowhere...?"
I asked, puzzled. Jeong Eun-seong turned to me with a grin.
"You can't sing, right?"
"..."
Ah, so just to mess with me?
That jerk?
The drama club puts on one show for the year-end festival.
One play after a year of practice sounds leisurely, but we had to decide what by early March anyway.
"Eleven second-years for directing and acting, twelve first-years for props, costumes, and the rest. Watch how the seniors do it this year, learn, and you can lead next year."
Yi Mong-ryong teacher explained briefly, then stepped back like he wouldn't interfere.
Ji-su summed up.
"As you all know, all ticket proceeds go to charity. Sell more, donate more, right? Let's go with something easy, fun, well-known. Nothing so obscure latecomers can't jump in midway."
"Oh, then..."
"I did one before..."
Suggestions poured in.
The problem was.
"How about Romeo and Juliet?"
"Didn't you hear Ji-su? Has to be something everyone knows."
"Who doesn't know Romeo and Juliet?"
"Me."
"Okay..."
"I'm fine with it? The story's simple."
"Simple how? Names are all X or foreign."
"...Not like Caterina Ivanovna Verkhovtseva or something. If just 'Juliet' three letters is hard, you can just be mu..."
The resident villain nitpicked everything.
Deciding on a play shouldn't take this long.
Our goal: Sell out tickets.
We had popular Han Ji-su and Jeong Eun-seong, so we'd star them and rake it in.
People come for their faces anyway—what's the plot matter? As long as it's not total garbage.
Romeo and Juliet or The Tale of Lady Saek, whatever.
But.
"Ugh, no, that Juliet name isn't even natural for Koreans."
Do Ha-jun. Popularity king. High school Mark Zuckerberg.
This guy who'd joined in first year to hit on Ji-su was obstructing everything.
The kids who'd tried compromising at first now scowled as his contrarian streak dragged on.
I held back a sigh and asked Do Ha-jun.
"So what do you want?"
"#$(#$)~My Little Sister or whatever~#$(#$)!"
"???"
"???"
"You don't know? Super famous anime."
"What's that...?"
I facepalmed.
Do Ha-jun hasn't changed a bit pre- or post-regression.
"Dude... That obscure Japanese anime is way less known than Romeo and Juliet?"
"But it's culturally familiar to us."
"To you maybe! I grew up on American shows!"
A fed-up second-year finally snapped.
"You know Sherlock? Sherlock? 221B Baker Street max!"
Sherlock was a British drama.
"The only familiar Japanese name to me is Ito Hirobumi!"
Same here.
What did we end up doing pre-regression?
We'd caved to Do Ha-jun's stubbornness and done that weird play, total embarrassment.
No way I'd let that black history repeat.
Pick anything quick. Better than his pick. Anything famous!
As I racked my brain, my eyes landed on the teacher (name: Yi Mong-ryong) watching us from the desk.
"Hey, do The Tale of Chunhyang. Every Korean knows it."
"Outdated."
"..."
Quiet Jeong Eun-seong clenched his fist tight.
Whatever, Do Ha-jun pressed on loudly.
"That's just a hot rich guy saving a courtesan, right? Joseon Cinderella."
"..."
"#($~blah blah sister~#$( Let's do that. Everyone knows it now. Eighth season movie just dropped."
"..."
"There's a girl getting beaten midway? Bruise makeup, rip a shirt—super realistic."
"..."
"Chunhyang is a no-go. Tired of the guy-saving-girl plot forever?"
"Do Ha-jun..."
Ji-su was pissed.
I put a hand on her arm as she gritted her teeth.
"Fine, you're right."
"Right? See..."
"Reality doesn't have Yi Mong-ryongs everywhere—hot and rich. Lady Saek, Princess Pyeonggang... Women saving stuff fits our culture more. So let's flip the genders."
I said to Jeong Eun-seong across from me.
"Jeong Eun-seong, you be Chunhyang. Leverage that pretty face."
"..."
"And what? Bruise makeup and rip a shirt? Let's do it. Why waste a shirt? Strip it off instead. Lock in a cell with a knife—realistic."
I leaned toward slack-jawed Jeong Eun-seong.
Whispered low.
"Agree quick. Or you wanna do that sister blah blah?"
Make a debut-haunting black history?
"Quick."
I prodded.
Jeong Eun-seong ground his teeth, called my name.
"...Kang Da-hye."
"What."
"I want to be Yi Mong-ryong in your class."
What'd he say?
"Teacher, Jeong Eun-seong's good with it too."
"Really?"
Yi Mong-ryong teacher's face lit up.
He didn't want sister blah blah either, huh.
"So Ji-su as Yi Mong-ryong?"
"Ooh, nice."
"Tickets'll sell."
"Fresh twist."
"Better than sister anything?"
"Totally."
Everyone but Do Ha-jun was thrilled. I winked at red-eared Jeong Eun-seong.
Sacrifice yourself.
Be a little Jae-ryong.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ In the end, Jeong Eun-seong as Chunhyang, Han Ji-su as Yi Mong-ryong, and me directing.
Not because I was scared he'd sing. I just wanted to direct.
For real.
"I actually wanted something like Death of a Salesman."
"Chunhyang's not bad. Chance to love our own stories."
"Do Ha-jun's insane... Stinks."
"He needs a beatdown from theater kids."
Trashing Do Ha-jun with Ji-su, we headed back to our fourth-floor classroom for homeroom.
But.
"Huh?"
Kids clustered at our class's back door.
"What's going on?"
Since Ji-su couldn't enter other classes (strict no-entry!!!!), I went in alone.
The group by the lockers turned to me all at once.
"Da-hye..."
"...That..."
Wait, my locker?