Chapter 72
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: The Tryout Auditions
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Three people sat in the front row of the audience at The Korean Art Hall.
Jang Jun-ho, who was directing *Pyeongchang-dong 777*, lead actor Choi Chang-dong, and sound director Seo Ji-eun.
“These days they say kids are scary talented, but I wonder what kind of performance the Cheongyeom kids will show us.”
Jang Jun-ho looked intrigued ahead of the auditions.
This audition was a chance to check the skills of four first-years already vetted by Cheongyeom.
He was well aware of Cheongyeom’s reputation, so he was curious about what freshmen they’d sent this time.
It wouldn’t take long anyway, and these were kids who were already somewhat proven, so there was no pressure.
It was just simple curiosity and interest.
“Yeah. I knew absolutely nothing at seventeen.”
Lead actor Choi Chang-dong felt the same.
Since this was a tryout audition, not the main show, their burden was relatively light.
Of course, if someone totally bombed, they could just have the original cast member step in, and that’d be that.
“Here’s the audition order.”
A staff member who’d just come from the waiting room handed over the schedule.
“Oh. Starting off with Actor Moon’s son?”
The name at the very top of the list was familiar.
Anyone in the musical world knew Moon Kang-hyun.
And it was already common knowledge in the industry that Moon Woo-hyuk was his son.
“Ah, that’s the kid? He’s handsome.”
“Yeah. Handsomer than his dad, even?”
The judges, fully aware of this, took an interest in Moon Woo-hyuk’s profile with amusement.
“Let’s not show it in front of the kid.”
“Of course.”
“We’re not amateurs.”
But Jang Jun-ho wasn’t the type to care much about connections from the start.
He’d evaluate Moon Woo-hyuk purely on skill, of course.
That’s why he’d asked the other judges not to mention Moon Kang-hyun.
The two, already knowing what kind of person their director was, laughed and said not to worry.
“Then let’s begin.”
At Jang Jun-ho’s call, the backstage staff hurried into motion.
A moment later,
Thud, thud—
“Hello. I’m Moon Woo-hyuk, first-year in the Musical Department at Cheongyeom Arts High.”
Moon Woo-hyuk strode confidently to center stage and bowed to the judges.
The three were so stunned by his overwhelming physique that their jaws dropped.
“Wow. Seeing him in person, that height is insane.”
“Right? Now I’m curious about his voice.”
To fill a large theater, physical presence was as crucial as talent.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that height and build were essential for a decent resonance chamber.
All the judges thought of Moon Kang-hyun’s physique upon seeing Moon Woo-hyuk’s height, but none said it aloud.
But at seventeen, already that tall.
Considering he was a boy still in his growth spurt, he might easily top 190 cm.
“Shall we see what you prepared?”
“Yes.”
At Jang Jun-ho’s words, Moon Woo-hyuk took a sip from the water bottle on stage and steadied his breath.
*Don’t belt it out. Remember to control the dynamics.*
The role given to the Cheongyeom boys for the tryout was Lee Hyun-woo.
A character who leaves the countryside for Seoul with dreams, one of the rivals to the protagonist, Kim Tae-san.
He didn’t appear much on stage, but he made a definite impact.
After immersing himself fully on stage, Moon Woo-hyuk lifted his head and delivered his first line.
“But Mother! Everyone’s heading to Seoul!”
The cold, sharp gaze he’d had moments ago was gone.
Moon Woo-hyuk now wore the face of a playful boy brimming with anticipation.
They’d cast him as a boy partly because he was high school age, but honestly, when Moon Woo-hyuk first appeared, it felt off.
Too tall for a boy.
But his first line completely erased that dissonance.
“Seoul. Just thinking about it makes my heart race! The Han River, the towering buildings, the lights that never go out all night…”
Moon Woo-hyuk looked genuinely intoxicated by his dreams of Seoul, swollen with excitement.
At first, his powerful presence made them wonder if he could pull it off.
But to show this kind of vibe.
The judges’ eyes went wide at Moon Woo-hyuk’s acting, so different from his initial impression.
“The city where every opportunity awaits. I have to go there. To the place where I can chase my dreams!”
He showed the look of a mischievous rascal full of curiosity, yet not just some naive kid.
A resilient strength that said he’d never get pushed around, even in a dangerous place.
Like a fledgling adventurer just hatching from its egg.
Moon Woo-hyuk launched into the number just like that.
“I’ll go out and find it myself— the opportunity before me— the love before me—”
His deep, heavy voice, only possible from that physique, filled the space.
***
“Wow. Starting off with acting like that. Impressive, impressive.”
“Yeah. As expected of Cheongyeom. He’s really seventeen?”
After Moon Woo-hyuk finished his audition and stepped down, the judges were full of praise.
“I was shocked at how different he was from his entrance.”
“Me too. I thought he was a whole different person. At first glance, he reminded me of Actor Moon Kang-hyun, but he nailed that flavor only a seventeen-year-old can bring.”
“Exactly. The second he started, he became a boy.”
Except for his entrance, Moon Kang-hyun never crossed their minds while watching.
What incredible talent.
*Acting can fool the blood like this, huh.*
*Is this kid really Actor Moon Kang-hyun’s son?*
To Jang Jun-ho, Moon Woo-hyuk was Lee Hyun-woo incarnate.
It felt like watching a scene from the musical.
*Even without the Moon Kang-hyun name, he’s a talent worth coveting.*
***
Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, Moon Woo-hyuk was flustered by the stares fixed on him.
*What’s this?*
A screen showing the stage was set up in the waiting room too.
Everyone had been admiring this new side of Moon Woo-hyuk as an actor.
Even Lee Cheong-ha, who usually didn’t get along with him, stared openly in surprise as he returned to his seat.
“Good work. That was shocking.”
She tossed a word his way as he sat down, relieved.
“Now you know I’m good? Stay on your toes.”
*What can I say?*
But yeah, she really did need to tense up.
Half-ass it, and she’d just end up embarrassed.
*To improve that much all of a sudden. Talent is talent, huh.*
He’d kept his natural gifts— the vocalization, voice, and singing from his physique— intact.
And he’d seamlessly infused the role with his own color.
“What’s up, Moon Woo-hyuk? Did you get some secret coaching?”
Song Ha-na was shocked too.
“Coaching? Nah.”
Moon Woo-hyuk shook his head like it was nothing, but a memory flashed by.
The time she’d gone to the practice room for guidance from Teacher Huh Ji-woong, and Moon Woo-hyuk had come out ahead of her.
*Ji-woong’s lessons are that effective?*
Moon Woo-hyuk had been taking lessons from Ji-woong right up to the audition.
She hadn’t paid it much mind before, but seeing this growth made her take notice.
Maybe Ji-woong was an even greater teacher than she’d thought.
Still, acting really came down to talent.
A kid with real talent could improve in an instant like this.
“Participant number two, please come out.”
She couldn’t keep marveling at Moon Woo-hyuk’s growth forever.
“Yes.”
At the staff’s call, she stood and slowly headed to the stage where the auditions were underway.
***
It’s been a while. This stage.
Standing center stage, looking out at the seats, new emotions welled up.
Just a year ago—no, sixteen years from now, technically.
Anyway, she’d auditioned here and landed a huge break.
It felt like she owned the world.
Like this stage was all hers.
But that joy hadn’t lasted long.
Enough.
All in the past.
What mattered now was that she could sing again.
She had no intention of getting lost in sentiment about the place.
She clenched her fist tight.
Sure, the part was much smaller than back then.
But it wasn’t insignificant either.
She had to approach it with the same heart as before—no, with even more humility.
“Hello. I’m Lee Do-hyun, first-year at Cheongyeom Arts High.”
Do-hyun bowed to the judges.
Jang Jun-ho’s eyes gleamed as he watched Do-hyun closely.
*Is that the one Jong-hoon mentioned?*
***
A few days earlier, a welcome call from someone he hadn’t heard from in ages.
Jang Jun-ho picked up right away.
“Hey, Yoon Jong-hoon. What’s up?”
“Director. How’ve you been?”
“Well, well. You rascal pretending to be normal again. What’s this about?”
A hearty laugh boomed from the other end.
His disciple Yoon Jong-hoon had insane talent, but he was just as unpredictable and exasperating.
“I heard you’re judging our school’s tryout auditions?”
“Yeah. So what? Someone you know coming out?”
“Not just someone I know. My muse.”
“Pfft.”
Jang Jun-ho spat out his coffee mid-sip.
He choked hard, coughing for a while before rasping out.
“A girl?”
“A guy.”
“You punk, that’s how you talk to your mentor?!”
Yoon Jong-hoon corrected him like he was pathetic.
Jang Jun-ho bellowed out of sheer embarrassment.
Yoon Jong-hoon, unfazed by the scolding, chuckled slyly.
“You’ll see what I mean when you watch, Director.”
“This is suspicious.”
It had been years since he’d seen his disciple Yoon Jong-hoon, and something felt off.
“…?”
“You into guys or what?”
“Yeah, I like you, Director, and I like Do-hyun.”
Jang Jun-ho furrowed his brow at Yoon Jong-hoon’s deadpan deflection.
“Exclude me. Name’s Do-hyun?”
“Yes. Lee Do-hyun. You’ll be shocked.”
“How amazing can he be for you to hype him like this?”
In Jang Jun-ho’s eyes, Yoon Jong-hoon was young but had sharp instincts and taste.
That’s why he’d taken him under his wing for directing training the moment he caught his eye.
Jang Jun-ho wasn’t one to take interest in many people, so Yoon Jong-hoon was his first and last disciple.
He treasured him so much he bragged about his prized student to everyone.
He thought he knew Yoon Jong-hoon better than anyone.
Yet Yoon Jong-hoon had never praised anyone this effusively or shown such passion.
“Got it. I’ll watch closely. Yoon Jong-hoon. You behaving at school? Don’t get cocky over that playwriting award or you’re dead.”
“Come on, Director. I’m top of my class.”
Jang Jun-ho laughed heartily, pleased.
That’s how he’d remembered the name Do-hyun, thanks to his Yoon Jong-hoon.
Jang Jun-ho gazed at Do-hyun on stage.
“Start when you’re ready.”
“Yes.”
Do-hyun took a sip of water, just like the others.
*This guy who hates owing anyone calls me?*
Jang Jun-ho chuckled dryly, stroking his chin.
“…You’re curious what I think, huh? Fine. I’ll judge you even harsher.”
Just as he wouldn’t view Moon Woo-hyuk through the lens of being Moon Kang-hyun’s son, Jang Jun-ho wouldn’t let Yoon Jong-hoon’s words bias him toward Do-hyun.
If anything, knowing the hype made him sharper, waiting keenly for the performance.
“Huh?”
Jang Jun-ho’s eyes widened in puzzlement.
*Taking off his shoes?*
Right before acting, Do-hyun removed his shoes and socks, standing barefoot at center stage.