Chapter 80
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Frozen Voice
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If I had to describe Lee Cheong-ha's voice in one word,
treasure.
A clear, beautiful tone that anyone would covet upon hearing it.
Even her vocal technique, naturally perfected without any special effort.
And the pure emotion that flowed effortlessly alongside that voice—what about that?
It was a voice no director could hear without wanting it for themselves.
It said it all that she had beaten out Song Ha-na to land the role of Jung Hee-seon in this tryout.
But right now, Lee Cheong-ha wasn't properly utilizing that innate treasure.
“Hyun-woo! Don’t… do that.”
The lines continued without error.
But that was it.
Her vocalization was such a mess that it was astonishing she even remembered to keep the lines going.
The reason was undoubtedly her voice, trembling uncontrollably.
It wasn’t the kind of tremor that could be elevated by Jung Hee-seon’s desperation in this scene.
If this were on stage instead of the rehearsal room, the audience probably wouldn’t understand a single one of those lines.
*Why is she freezing up like this?*
It had been a long time since I’d seen Lee Cheong-ha this frozen on stage.
Not since the pre-semester vocal test at the start of the term.
After that, she had always delivered beyond expectations.
But even compared to back then, this felt a little off.
It didn’t feel like her stage fright from before at all.
Back then, even singing one phrase had been a struggle.
She couldn’t even make eye contact with anyone.
But not now.
She was making eye contact with Moon Woo-hyuk, playing her fiancé, and getting the lines out, but there was no life in them whatsoever.
“There’s no helping it, Hee-seon. I have to go and fight.”
Somehow, Moon Woo-hyuk’s valiant efforts were barely holding the scene’s tension together.
The precarious scene finally came to an end.
Most directors would cut a scene midway if the acting was a mess.
But Jang Jun-ho didn’t this time.
Because of Moon Woo-hyuk’s solid performance?
Probably not.
“Hmm.”
As a heavy silence settled after the scene ended, the only sound was Jang Jun-ho’s deep breath.
After staring at the floor in thought for a long while, Jang Jun-ho looked up.
“Lee Cheong-ha, are you feeling unwell?”
He must have wanted to pinpoint her problem more precisely.
The fact that he hadn’t ruthlessly cut the scene might have been consideration because she was a high schooler.
“No…….”
Lee Cheong-ha answered weakly, her head hanging low.
She seemed aware that she wasn’t in her right state.
This was different from the start of the term, when she’d faked being sick to bail on the pre-test.
She couldn’t make excuses like that anymore.
But she knew that didn’t solve the problem.
Especially not here.
This was a professional rehearsal with actors performing at the Korean Arts Hall—no place to run.
“That’s disappointing, then.”
Jang Jun-ho’s blunt fastball struck home.
He’d probably hesitated just a moment before throwing it.
“Didn’t she do well in rehearsals?”
Jang Jun-ho asked one of the pro actors in the scene.
Of course, if Lee Cheong-ha had been in this state the whole time, it would’ve been reported to him.
The actor nodded as if to confirm.
“Weak in the real thing, huh. That’s a problem.”
Another packed fastball came flying at Lee Cheong-ha.
*She’s gonna collapse at this rate.*
It was Jang Jun-ho, a director known for his way with actors, saying it.
He must have his reasons, but I couldn’t help worrying about Lee Cheong-ha.
At that moment, Lee Cheong-ha squeezed her eyes shut.
“I’m sorry! I’ll do better!”
She bowed deeply toward the actors and shouted.
*Oh, Lee Cheong-ha. Looks like you’re really not running anymore.*
Yeah. It wasn’t even the real stage yet, so spotting this issue in rehearsal was actually a good thing.
“Alright. That was your first time taking the front spot today, so I won’t say more. Good work. Step down.”
“Yes!”
Now Lee Cheong-ha answered boldly, eyes wide open.
Good. I could put my worries about Lee Cheong-ha on hold for now.
She’d taken the scolding and responded spiritedly at the end.
“Oh, Moon Woo-hyuk.”
With the situation settled, Jang Jun-ho called back Moon Woo-hyuk as he stepped offstage.
“You were great today. That was exactly the Lee Hyun-woo I’m looking for.”
“Th-thank you!”
It was thanks to Moon Woo-hyuk that the scene had made it to the end.
Even with Lee Cheong-ha shaky, he’d held the center steady.
Both Song Ha-na and Moon Woo-hyuk seemed to shine even more with the pros.
*Talent really is talent, huh.*
“Next up… Lee Do-hyun. Let’s get ready.”
“Yes.”
So much time had passed that I thought I’d just be observing today.
Finally, my turn came, and I stood from my seat.
*First, nail my own part.*
My role was small enough—no way I’d embarrass myself here.
I’ve got years of musical actor experience under my belt.
Time to possess the old man.
***
It was past 9 p.m. when rehearsals finally wrapped.
The kids took the driver’s car home first, leaving Lee Cheong-ha and me in front of the theater.
“You okay?”
I asked casually, keeping it light.
She seemed fine on the surface, but you never know what’s going on inside.
“With what?”
Huh, playing it cool.
That reaction was unexpected.
Lee Cheong-ha didn’t stop there—she acted totally nonchalant.
“Oh, getting chewed out earlier?”
When I just stared without a word, she finally asked back, as if it had just occurred to her.
Smiling, even.
*Is she really okay?*
“Must be. Everyone messes up sometimes. Especially your first time… no one’s perfect from the start.”
Seeing Lee Cheong-ha shrug it off like no big deal, I let out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, you’re right. Better to crash and burn spectacularly in rehearsal once.”
At this point, I figured there was no need to make it heavier.
*The start of standing on her own, huh.*
Proud of her, I smiled as I spoke.
“What? It wasn’t a spectacular crash or anything?!”
Her indignation confirmed she was truly fine.
“Haha, got it. Not spectacular—just a lukewarm flop. Still, that voice of yours was killer.”
“Tch. Whatever.”
Even so, she’d probably be mulling it over inside.
Lots to think about before bed tonight.
*I should send a short message before she sleeps.*
At least she wasn’t showing it outwardly anymore—that was a far cry from the old Lee Cheong-ha.
She’d really changed since beating Song Ha-na in the audition.
*So experience really matters for people.*
“I’m thinking of walking home again today. No practice tomorrow.”
Walking from the Korean Arts Hall to Sadang had become my routine.
I glanced over, expecting Lee Cheong-ha to join as usual, but surprisingly, she shook her head.
“I’m good. Mom and Dad are picking me up today. Traffic must be bad—they’re not here yet.”
“Oh, got it. See you Monday, then.”
“Yeah. Go careful—!”
Seeing Lee Cheong-ha wave with a smile eased my mind completely.
After the goodbye, I turned, retied my sneaker laces.
No practice this weekend starting tomorrow—maybe run to Sadang.
***
“Hmmn.”
Had I dozed off?
After running to Sadang and boarding the bus, I was in a daze.
I remembered sitting down, but…
I snapped awake as the bus at my stop started pulling away.
“W-wait…! Sir! Let me off!”
I jumped up and yelled.
My vocal projection worked perfectly—the driver startled and opened the doors.
“Sorry!”
All that vocal practice paid off—I barely made it off.
Even after getting off, my shoulders were stiff, so I rolled them around.
*Guess I’ve been tired lately.*
Running to Sadang Station on top of everything—tonight, I’d crash the moment my head hit the pillow.
On the walk home from the stop, I habitually checked my phone.
Ji-woong ssaem?
Missed calls from Huh Ji-woong.
Not just one—several.
He rarely calls first, even if he texts occasionally sometimes. What’s up?
*Something happen? At this hour?*
Wondering what it could be this late, I called back right away.
Riiing-riing-!
“Hello,”
-Hello? Why didn’t you pick up?
He answered before the third ring.
That wasn’t like him either.
*Why so urgent? Something really up?*
“Finished rehearsal and dozed off on the bus. What’s going on?”
I listened quietly to Huh Ji-woong over the receiver.
“Yes……?”
My brow furrowed involuntarily.
*What the hell is this?*
“Why all of a sudden… Yeah, something happened. Hold on.”
I yanked the phone from my face to check the time.
[22:34]
Almost 11 p.m., but luckily still bus hours.
*Gotta call Mom ahead.*
“Got it, Teacher. Heading there now.”
I hung up, turned around from heading home, and went back to the bus stop.
***
“Huff. Huff.”
I panted, having run nonstop.
After getting off the bus, I’d kept running.
The place I arrived at was none other than Cheongyeom Arts High.
Vacation time, and with all practice rooms closed this late, the school was shrouded in deep darkness.
I arrived at school at 11:50 p.m.
Almost midnight.
“You’re here.”
Huh Ji-woong was waiting at the main gate.
“They’re still there?”
I asked, finally catching my breath.
I glanced toward the school interior, at the mid-sized theater building.
Then back at Huh Ji-woong.
“You’re not going with?”
“If I go, it’ll just make things awkward. That’s why I called you.”
Fair enough.
I nodded slowly at Huh Ji-woong’s insight.
“Side door’s open—go in there. Be quiet so you don’t startle them.”
“Yes. I’ll be careful.”
After Huh Ji-woong’s reminder, I headed toward the mid-sized theater.
I stopped after a few steps and turned back.
“Thank you, Teacher.”
I bowed to Huh Ji-woong, who was sheepishly waving me on, then ran toward the mid-sized theater again.
***
Vacation period, nearing midnight—no sign of people anywhere in the school, let alone the mid-sized theater.
Arriving at the theater, I stood alone in the dark lobby, lost in thought for a moment.
*Why did I come here?*
I’d rushed over in shock after Huh Ji-woong’s call, but I had no idea what to say when I saw them.
Still, it felt like I had to come.
An inexplicable anxiety was overwhelming me.
I slowly approached the side door at the farthest end of the audience entrance doors.
The front door would give me away immediately—too risky.
Figuring out the situation came first.
“Whew.”
I took a deep breath to shake off the needless tension,
creeeak……
and opened the door very slowly, carefully, without a sound.
Being a theater, the well-soundproofed door was heavy.
I positioned myself in the farthest corner of the seats, where the stage was visible in the distance.
Even from that far away, the face of the lone figure standing on stage was perfectly clear.