"I Think She's Prettier"
"I think she's prettier."
She was another girl my age — a peer, more or less.
Wow, she's gorgeous.
Ever since I'd turned handsome, my standards had climbed to the point where I rarely called anyone pretty anymore, but this girl was unbelievably beautiful. The kids nearby were already top-tier by any measure, yet she had the face of someone living in an entirely different world. Aside from my own reflection in the mirror, this was the first time I'd ever looked at another person's face and genuinely marveled.
That stunning face pointed at the seat beside her and spoke.
"Come sit here."
What's going on?
"Why should I?"
"Because you're the best-looking one here."
"So the best-looking guy has to sit next to you?"
"Obviously. I'm the prettiest one here, aren't I? The most handsome person belongs next to me. So come on, sit."
As if to prove her point, both seats beside the doll-like girl sat empty.
What am I supposed to do with this absurd beauty-supremacy?
I nearly fell for it at the word handsome. This wasn't a compliment. This was a demand. Ignoring the living doll, I swept my gaze around the room. Across from us, a girl with long, straight hair sat quietly, demure and composed.
There's another one. Ridiculously pretty.
I strode right over and sat down beside her. Startled by my sudden approach, she flinched and shrank back. She had the loveliest doe eyes.
"I think she's prettier."
Crack!
Something shattered out of thin air. So this is the kind of miracle that happens when a beautiful girl gets angry.
My provocation continued.
"There, happy now? The most handsome kid sitting next to the prettiest one."
"H-how dare you!"
The same murmuring crowd as before, but the atmosphere had shifted ever so slightly.
"Good grief. He's saying it right to Yujin's face."
"Can't tell if the kid's got nerve or just doesn't know any better."
"Still, it's satisfying to watch."
"You're telling me that's the best a kid can improvise?"
Her pride crumpled, the doll-girl clenched her fists and marched toward me. She glared at me with axe-blade eyes, then whipped her head away.
So even anger can look this pretty.
"Han Sora! Move over. I'm sitting there."
"Uh, um… I, I…."
Han Sora?
No wonder the atmosphere around her felt different. To think I'd find the future actress who would sweep all three major film awards — a living legend — in a place like this.
"If she moves to another seat, I'll follow. That's your rule, isn't it? The prettiest girls have to sit together."
"Exactly! I'm prettier than Sora!"
"Nope. Sora's prettier."
Sitting beside me, Sora went beet red, unable to manage a single word.
"I just did what you told me to. If that's unfair, go make yourself a seat."
"You think I can't?"
With that, she said something to the man standing behind her. There's shameless, and then there's this. The man carried a chair over and set it down in the seat next to mine. Judging by how he treated her, he wasn't family — a manager or a bodyguard, probably.
Rough job, buddy.
Still fuming, the doll-girl gave a haughty hmph! and plopped down beside me.
"There. Now you're sitting next to the prettiest girl here."
Already armed with a 'make it happen at all costs' mentality at her age. Her looks and behavior made it clear she was no ordinary civilian. And more than that — she looked strangely familiar.
"What's your name?"
Her eyes narrowed into a smile of victory. This was the reaction I was supposed to have — she couldn't stand that I wasn't showing any interest in her.
"Why do you want to know?"
There she goes, playing hard to get.
"Just curious. If you don't want to tell me, don't."
"I never said I didn't want to!"
And then she announced it with saucy bravado: Oh Yujin.
Haa… so this place is legendary too.
It was Oh Yujin — future leader of Clover Day, the girl group that would define the third generation. I knew she'd started as a child actress, but back then I wasn't old enough to watch dramas, so this was my first time seeing her childhood face. I also learned, as a bonus, just how sharply PD Jo Seung-hyun had honed his blade — enough to recruit serious actors alongside the kids.
Once I slotted myself between the two of them, the wary murmurings vanished as if they'd never existed. In their place, curious stares filled the empty air: Who is that kid, anyway?
"The rehearsal's about to start… Huh? You three are seated perfectly."
AD Lee Beom-joon walked in through the waiting room door and went wide-eyed at the sight of us. He told us that was exactly how we should stand on stage and ushered everyone outside.
So I was the face of the group… was I?
*****
"Cut! Wrong again! Tiger Teacher, can you please get it together!"
"I-I'm sorry…."
PD Jo, who rarely raised his voice on account of the children, finally exploded. The Tiger Teacher's stiffness — unsettling ever since rehearsal — had reached unwatchable levels, and with the NGs piling up, the kids were starting to get cranky too.
"Somebody get him some water. Beom-joon, go talk to him. He's driving me up the wall."
AD Lee Beom-joon hurried over to the Tiger and gestured frantically, whispering something. Apparently unable to bear it any longer, the Tiger Teacher removed his mask.
Huh?
It was Yoo Sung-shik. Even drenched in sweat with his hair a mess, that easy, affable warmth that would one day make him the National MC was fully intact.
So he wore mascot suits back in his no-name days.
He kept bowing his head apologetically to the AD, then sat down in a corner to catch his breath. Watching the humble, unknown days of the National MC — the record-holder for most Daesang awards ever — tugged at my heart. He stole a glance at me, gave a weak smile, and looked away. Then he pressed his fingertips to his temple with a wince, over and over.
A headache… I used to get those too.
In my past life, the stress headaches that came whenever my acting wouldn't click were a constant torment. That crushing pressure in my skull had troubled me more times than I could count.
"Sung-shik hyung."
"Hm… huh? How do you know my name?"
"I saw you on Gag District 1. You played the classmate getting beaten up by the gangster, remember?"
"How many episodes did that even run for… wait. Hold on. How old are you?"
"Six."
"A six-year-old watches comedy shows that air at eleven at night?"
Without a thought for the situation at hand, he went straight to auditing my TV habits. So this was when he'd started being an upright, upstanding man.
"You were pressing your temple, so I'm guessing it's a tension headache. There's a little hollow spot here — press it and rub in gentle circles."
I pointed to the temple acupoint at the end of the eyebrow. It was a trick I'd often used when I had no medicine on hand — pressed firmly, like acupressure, it worked surprisingly well.
"Press down nice and firm, and the throbbing should ease up. I used this every time I got stressed, so I can vouch for it."
The look on his face as he stared at me grew even stranger. Well, of course it did — a six-year-old lecturing about stress and dispensing acupressure advice.
"Hyung. This is your first time in a mascot suit, isn't it?"
"Th-that's right."
"It won't feel as wide as you'd expect. The eye holes aren't spaced like human eyes, so you end up looking at everything off to one side. And the sides and back are pitch black."
It was a fur suit — heavy and unbearably hot. Wearing one for the first time while trying to act and dance was bound to make anyone stumble. How do I know all this? Because of the hourly wage. Costumed gigs paid well, so they were among the part-time jobs I did a lot in my past life.
"So look straight ahead as much as you can. When you need to look sideways, don't just turn your head — turn your whole body. Stick to the choreography and don't jump around. Sideways motion isn't so bad, but if you bounce up and down, your head rings worse than you'd think."
"……."
"I'll buy you some time, so keep pressing there. If you stop, you'll get dizzy later."
"You… are you really six?"
"Sorry?"
"It just feels like I'm talking to a senior."
He was, in fact, a senior whose no-name years had been longer than my entire life. I switched into aegyo mode and bounded over to PD Jo.
"PD-nim."
"Oh, hey there, Hajin. What is it?"
The crinkle at the corner of his eyes smoothed out instantly.
"Well… there's something I'd like to try."
"Something you'd like to try?"
He was famous for his meticulous direction, but word was he also listened carefully to ideas from the crew and actors on set. If something caught his interest, he wouldn't dismiss a proposal just because it came from a child actor.
"Me, Yujin, and Sora — it's our first time on the show today, right?"
"That's right."
"So I think we should show them something."
"There's already a little intro segment before Tiger Teacher comes out."
"Not the boring kind — say your name, do a bit of aegyo. Even the kids are sick of that by now."
In an instant, every crew member's gaze swung to me. Their faces all said the same thing: Did that really come out of a six-year-old's mouth?
Well, I've got their attention….
"Today's the first time we're doing the Grow-Grow Dance, right? So what if the three of us — the new kids — present it like, 'we brought this dance as a gift for everyone'? That'd be way more dramatic. And since Tiger Teacher isn't in great shape today, if we fill that much airtime for him, the show would flow much more naturally… what do you think?"
"……."
He wore the expression of a man meeting a polar bear in the middle of the Sahara.
Wasn't that kid six?
How does a child talk about "filling airtime"?
And how does he know the Tiger's condition?
Today's storyline was about being small. Tiger Teacher would teach the kids about foods that help you grow taller, then teach them the Grow-Grow Dance. The other kids wouldn't know it well, but I'd drilled it to perfection through the program yesterday.
"What's good about it? The three of them picking up the dance together beats a plain introduction, no question."
Camera Director Hyun Woo-il was the first to join my side. With one half of the top duo nodding along, a few of the crew members followed suit. PD Jo, of course, had been watching me with interest for a while now.
"What about you two? It's brand-new choreography. Can you keep up?"
"Of course. It's way easier than the ballet I'm learning right now."
"I-I can keep up too… if I'm doing it with Hajin."
It was a simple routine, designed so kindergarteners could copy it easily. There was no way two seasoned pros like Sora and Yujin could fail to match my moves.
We were heading to one side of the stage to rehearse when Sung-shik hyung called me over.
"Hajin."
"Hyung. How's your head?"
"Much better than before. That trick works better than I expected. Thank you."
Even as he said he was fine, he grabbed my hand like I was some benefactor who'd saved his life.
"We're going to run through the moves together. If we use this for the intro, it'll cut down a lot of the screen time for teaching the dance."
"I heard what you said to the PD-nim. So, um… would it be all right if I practiced with you too? I've botched so many takes that I've lost all my confidence."
"Oh."
And just like that, I found myself rehearsing a dance routine alongside a future national-treasure actress, a legendary girl group's visual center, and the future National MC.