Chapter 83
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Pyeongchang-dong 777 Tryout
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“Welcome to the tryout performance of ‘Pyeongchang-dong 777’.”
Standing alone on the stage at The Korean Art Hall, Jang Jun-ho grabbed the mic himself.
“Today’s show features four first-year students from Cheongyeom Arts High in a special appearance.”
Today’s tryout for Pyeongchang-dong 777 was something extraordinary.
It was the day high school students with no prior stage experience would step onto the stage at The Korean Art Hall.
Word had spread in advance, drawing an audience eager to witness this unique event, filling the seats.
And unexpectedly, some notable figures were in the crowd.
“Heh heh. I can’t wait to see what kind of performance our students put on.”
Leading the group was Cheongyeom Arts High’s principal, Lee Won-cheol, accompanied by several musical theater teachers.
It was unusual enough for the principal to show up in person.
All four students they’d sent to auditions had received love calls from director Jang Jun-ho.
Word of the upset had brought the principal and teachers from other grades to today’s show.
“Ji-woong must be proud. Four kids from his class on stage.”
Ji-woong occupied one of those seats as well.
He was the homeroom teacher for the freshmen who’d been pushed into this spotlight.
This year had been full of bizarre happenings, more than usual.
“What’s there to be proud of? The kids did well on their own.”
Even in front of the principal, Ji-woong’s demeanor didn’t change.
His tone remained as emotionless as ever.
Still, the principal caught the subtle way he was hyping up the kids’ talents.
And beyond them, there were others eagerly awaiting this stage.
“Yeobo. Is this a dream or reality? Our son’s already on a stage like this.”
“Right? What else would you expect from our boy.”
The parents, of course.
Today’s performance was special for the students, so parents had been invited.
Do-hyun had naturally extended the invitation to his own.
In his previous life, with his father gone early and his mother in poor health, he’d had no means to ask her to come alone.
Do-hyun’s parents waited for the show to start, their hearts brimming with excitement.
Finally, Jang Jun-ho swept his gaze over the audience and raised the mic.
“Then, we’ll begin the performance now.”
With his final words, all the lights went out.
The tryout for Pyeongchang-dong 777 had begun.
***
The four from Cheongyeom Arts High on today’s stage weren’t leads.
The show opened with the current pro lead actors’ performances.
Vocal technique, diction, choreography—nothing stood out; it all flowed like water.
Then, finally, a familiar face appeared on stage.
“Ooh, it’s Woo-hyuk!”
Moon Woo-hyuk had taken the stage.
“Mom. Here.”
The moment he appeared, he shyly handed a secretly prepared bouquet to the actress playing his mom in the show, flashing a smile.
Woo-hyuk’s expression was so vivid that the audience could feel his love for his mother right down to their bones.
“As expected from actor Moon Kang-hyun’s son. How does he nail talent like that? Right, Principal?”
Academic Affairs Director Jang Beom-su’s eyes sparkled as he loudly addressed the principal.
True to form, he couldn’t help gushing over celebrities.
The classic sycophant type, he’d gotten subtle warnings from the principal before, but either he lacked awareness or that habit just wouldn’t stick.
“Whoa, that physique, that face! He’s Cheongyeom’s golden boy, right? Ahaha.”
People shot him side-eyes, annoyed by the noise.
Lucky it was a tryout; otherwise, stage staff might’ve dragged him out.
“It’s too noisy to hear. Be quiet.”
Jang Beom-su didn’t care if he was the academic director or not.
Ji-woong shot back bluntly, but even as Jang Beom-su glared daggers, he ignored it, eyes fixed on the stage.
The two had never gotten along.
To Ji-woong, who hated getting swept up in anything, Jang Beom-su was the epitome of everything he despised.
But as Woo-hyuk and Mercedes’ duet filled the air, the audience fell pin-drop silent once more.
‘Soft here. Relax as much as possible.’
Woo-hyuk eased the tension from his body and began to sing.
It was a sweet voice he’d never shown at school.
Rich volume amplified its allure.
The audience was in awe.
“Wow, who’s that? First time seeing him.”
“He looks young. Is that actor from Cheongyeom Arts High?”
They’d announced a Cheongyeom student was performing, but kept the role secret.
A minimal measure to avoid bias.
‘He’s improved so much.’
Han Hyo-jin had been secretly tense about whether Woo-hyuk could pull it off today.
Seemed like needless worry.
The first number eased her shoulders instantly.
The audience was completely immersed in Woo-hyuk’s acting and singing.
Tall frame, green eyes, natural delivery, plus that endearing rascal-boy expression.
‘That delinquent Woo-hyuk has grown this much…’
Han Hyo-jin couldn’t help but grin.
Beyond growth, his skills and vocals were now masterful.
Pride and an inexplicable swell of emotion washed over her as she watched.
Woo-hyuk exited with his number, and the musical pressed on.
Then, an actor in his sixties appeared on stage.
“Aren’t you curious about the method?”
A gravelly, somewhat raspy voice perfectly transformed into that of a sixty-year-old echoed through the theater.
“It’s Do-hyun.”
It was Do-hyun.
His role in this tryout was Choi Mok-su, a man in his sixties.
A bold casting choice possible only because it was a tryout.
The Cheongyeom folks knew the students’ roles in advance.
Good thing they knew Do-hyun was playing this part, or they might’ve missed it entirely.
“There’s an old saying in our country.”
Do-hyun’s voice, straight out of a sixty-year-old.
His movements and gestures shifted the audience’s gaze.
Every face, every gesture, every breath in the crowd wrapped around Do-hyun.
Later, as the pinnacle Choi Mok-su who convinces Kim Tae-san to prepare for escape, played by Do-hyun.
“Who’s that kid? One of ours?”
Jang Beom-su adjusted his glasses, puzzled, thanks to the grandfather makeup.
For a musical theater teacher, his theater etiquette was abysmal.
Han Hyo-jin replied quickly to shut him up.
“Yes.”
“Is he a special admit?”
“Regular admit.”
“Regular? With the school’s reputation, sending a regular admit on external gigs like this… Ugh.”
Ji-woong and Han Hyo-jin shared the same thought.
Shut up and just watch.
Despite Jang Beom-su’s grumbling, the show progressed smoothly to the scene where Choi Mok-su dies during the escape.
Emotion surged to Do-hyun’s fingertips.
He raised a hand to stroke the cheek of Choi Chang-dong, playing Kim Tae-san.
The makeup, perfected over hours, made him the ideal sixty-year-old.
“It’s definitely hard not to hold it in your heart…”
Finally, Do-hyun’s death scene.
Everyone held their breath, hanging on his every line.
Amid the plaintive music, his trembling fingertips seemed to convey Choi Mok-su’s regret to Kim Tae-san.
Then, Choi Mok-su’s final breath rattled.
“But… forgive everything and live on. That’ll be best for you.”
With those words, Do-hyun’s head tilted back.
His death scene complete, Do-hyun’s role ended.
Short, but it left an impact as the stage faded to black.
Ji-woong seized the moment to glare at Jang Beom-su.
“Remember this. That’s Lee Do-hyun, top of Musical Theater first-years, first semester.”
Jang Beom-su cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his eyes.
“Ah, that kid. Our top student.”
The principal recalled the recent end-of-term ceremony, handing out awards to the students on stage.
“An interesting one.”
After Choi Mok-su’s exit, the audience was unusually hushed.
His death had pierced deep into everyone’s hearts.
Following Do-hyun’s scene, Lee Cheong-ha and Moon Woo-hyuk’s duet took over.
Lee Cheong-ha, as Jung Hee-seon, filled the theater with her beautiful tone.
She became Jung Hee-seon; he became Lee Hyun-woo, fully immersed.
Woo-hyuk’s powerful voice steadied her initially shaky one.
Cheong-ha soon relaxed, delivering effortless acting and song.
Sound director Seo Ji-eun silently cheered bravo—no need for re-records with that perfect tone and volume.
The audience inwardly applauded the clear duet.
Song Ha-na left a strong impression in her brief role too.
A powerhouse number and ensemble dance, with her reigning as the queen of the loan shark world as Han Mi-ae.
It demanded flawless skill to stand out among pros.
Ha-na owned the spot perfectly.
Her pitch and choreography were impeccable, practice time unimaginable.
The crowd rippled with laughter and cheers at her dazzling supporting turn.
“Scary, really scary. Cheongyeom Arts High.”
Jang Jun-ho laughed at the stage, as if there was nothing left to consider.
***
After the tryout wrapped, the cast gathered in the dressing room.
They’d finished packing up and awaited Jang Jun-ho’s final words.
“Great job, everyone.”
He encouraged and praised them, boosting morale.
As he went down the line praising the actors, he paused before the four from Cheongyeom Arts High.
He’d lingered in the lobby, eavesdropping on passing audience chatter.
Their words mirrored his exact feelings now.
“I was actually immersed in Lee Hyun-woo for the first time, seriously?”
“Jung Hee-seon’s voice is still echoing in my ears.”
“That sixty-year-old grandpa was a high schooler? Insane. Kids these days are all so good.”
Praise for the Cheongyeom kids poured nonstop.
“You four.”
The cast, crew, and staff who knew their feats leaned in, half-expecting, half-thrilled.
Jang Jun-ho scanned each face before saying,
“Let’s meet again someday.”
He smiled, but everyone in the room knew those words carried 100% sincere intent.
***
With the full show over, the troupe’s courtesy meant the students didn’t have to touch cleanup—they just wiped off makeup quickly and headed out.
Unlike usual, they rushed prep and stepped outside, looking around.
“Mom. Dad.”
They spotted the parents right away.
Worried their son might miss them, they stood at the entrance beaming, holding bouquets.
He wanted to run over, but couldn’t.
If he went now, the tears would flow.
They were this thrilled over such a small role.
He’d never seen them like this before.
Ah, what’s this?
He hadn’t even been that nervous today.
Tears welled, tensing his shoulders.
“Son!”
“Our boy!”
As he stood frozen, the parents rushed over first.
Ah, don’t want them seeing tears.
Hold it, hold it. You’re an actor. Act.
“Did you enjoy it?”
He turned with a bright smile to greet them.
They thrust bouquets into his arms, filling the air with floral scent.
“Of course! Is there any role our son can’t nail?”
“Hey! Dad didn’t recognize you at first, did he?”
“What? I knew from the first footstep.”
“Aigoo, you old man. You said it was amazing how tall that senior citizen was.”
“Ahem. Th-that was a joke… a joke!”
Whew.
Their banter sucked the tears right back.
Do-hyun grinned brightly, listening to his dad’s excuses.
Then,
“Hello.”
A man approached the three.
“Teacher?”
His homeroom teacher and one-on-one mentor, eternal mentor.
Huh Ji-woong.
Another voice joined.
“Hello.”
“Director…?”
Jang Jun-ho, director of this Pyeongchang-dong 777 production.