Why Do You Act Better Than Me?
"Why are you better at acting than me?"
"Ha-jin? We only picked that kid for his face."
"Exactly."
"As for the acting, we've got Sora and Yujin covering that, and Jung-woo's even been on a drama before."
"True."
"And yet that's just…."
PD Jo Seung-hyun spoke with an expression of pure disbelief.
"Isn't Ha-jin basically performing a musical right now?"
"Looks like it. The way he hums along with the lines matches the choreography perfectly — it really does sound like an improvised number... You're sure the kid's never acted before?"
"Pull the camera in closer. That shot — we're definitely going to want it later."
In my past life, I'd stood on a musical stage a few times. Mostly in the chorus — I never even made it to understudy, let alone a lead role — but layering rhythm onto simple movements like these was nothing.
Stretch the body way up high~ ♬ and swaaay~ ♪
For the banter between numbers I hummed off the cuff, playing a teacher demonstrating the moves was more than enough, and as for the blocking — my body had already memorized it from watching yesterday's program so many times I'd nearly worn it out.
Since it was my first time showing these routines, I added some singing on top, and the reaction was far more dramatic than I'd expected.
"How are you this good when it's your first day learning it?"
"I just copied what Tiger Teacher did earlier, that's all?"
"Liar. You're way better than Tiger Teacher. And singing your lines like that is so, so good. Who taught you? How come you're the only one who knows this stuff?"
"Nobody taught me. I just thought of it and sang."
"You just... sang it?"
They all wore the look of people wondering what on earth this kid was.
"Your voice... it's pretty. Show me the dance again."
Sora's reaction wasn't much different. So apparently I was better at singing and dancing than both of them.
Oblivious to the cameras still rolling behind us, we threw ourselves into matching each other's movements. As expected, Sora and Yujin were already at a level where they could've been filmed on the spot. Sung-shik hyung's stiffness had long since melted away, too.
"That wraps the introduction, so from next time we follow the cue sheet. You've already learned the dance, so Sung-shik hyung doesn't have to teach it to you."
"Uh, yeah."
I nodded along as if I'd just received the PD's instructions myself. So that's why he had me rewatch the program so many times yesterday.
"We're on."
The moment I turned my head, the PD gave the signal right on cue. Apparently he'd been watching our practice the whole time. Decked out once more in the fluttery excitement of a first broadcast appearance, I headed for the camera.
After the recording —
"Bwahaha, look at this! Didn't I tell you it'd be art? These three kids' expressions — what am I supposed to do with this!"
Camera director Hyun Woo-il pumped his fist as he watched our introduction scene.
"Are you a lolicon or something? Why are you this excited?"
"Hey, punk, where'd lolicon come from? This is pure, wholesome admiration!"
The rest of the staff marveled too as they watched us introduce ourselves and dance. For me, standing there blankly, an AD angled the monitor so I could see.
Positioning that never acknowledged the camera yet never strayed from the frame, effortless eye lines, crisp enunciation — I'd expressed the thrill of making new friends with my entire body. Add a national-treasure-grade face on top of that, and the me on that screen was something even I couldn't help but admire.
"If the whole crew's watching with their jaws on the floor, that says it all. Next week's viewer board is going to be worth a read."
"I'd say the CP's face will be more worth watching than the board. Wasn't he the one who kept trotting out that 'sore finger' excuse to make you sing?"
"Now all he's got left is waiting for his transfer papers to the drama department. Kahahaha!"
I was still basking in PD Jo's hearty laughter when someone tugged at my sleeve from behind. I turned to find Sora standing there, shuffling her feet. For some reason, she looked anxious.
"Did I... come out pretty?"
"Yeah. Your face is pretty, your dancing is pretty, and your voice is super pretty too."
"Prettier than Yujin?"
Huh?
"You said prettier than Yujin."
I'd assumed she was too timid to ever stick up for herself, but apparently that wasn't quite the whole story.
"That's right. You're prettier."
"Then... will you keep telling me I'm pretty?"
Why does she keep doing this?
"What if I've turned ugly the next time you see me?"
"Wh-what... no!"
The rims of her eyes were already glistening. This kid's tear threshold was ridiculously low.
"Then stop asking me one at a time. You're pretty, and you're going to stay pretty."
People all over the world will sing the praises of your beauty. So never doubt how you look again.
"Smile. You're way, way prettier when you smile than you are right now."
"O... okay."
And with that, she smiled, soft and shy. The blossoming of that smile, tinting her cheeks pink, was a truly lovely thing to see.
The waiting room was black and white.
The only splash of color in it was Yujin, sitting in front of me. Yujin — the one who always declared herself the prettiest — was the sole figure not rendered in gray.
If you call something pretty, does it turn into color? Would I show up as a different color too?
Mom kept saying I'd grow up to be even prettier than her, but I couldn't have cared less. No — come to think of it, the way Dad got angry about how much my "face was worth" made me suspect it might not be a good thing at all.
The older girls and boys were pretty, and everyone praised how well they acted, too. As expected of the director's daughter, they said. As expected of the senior's daughter.
What color am I?
So I just sat quietly in the waiting room, watching the color of Yujin — the girl who always insisted she was prettier than me.
The door opened and a boy walked in. His face was brimming with curiosity, as if this were his first time anywhere like this. That boy's color was... no. That boy was light. A radiance so brilliant it hurt to look at, brimming over with beautiful colors.
Pretty....
Yujin, meanwhile, flared red. Again.
Yujin could never leave anything pretty alone.
The boy didn't sit down next to Yujin. He looked around as though searching for something, and then his eyes met mine. Wearing the expression of someone who'd found exactly what he wanted, he walked straight toward me.
And then he sat down beside me.
"I think this one's prettier."
With a bang, fireworks went off everywhere, all at once. They were so hot I couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. Unable to bear looking at his face, I dropped my head.
Even when Yujin marched over to argue, the boy insisted I was the prettiest.
"There, all set? The most handsome boy sits next to the prettiest girl."
When Yujin told me to move, he blocked her.
"If she goes to another seat, then I'm going with her."
He stayed beside me after that, too. I wanted so badly to ask — am I really that pretty? — but Yujin was right there, so I couldn't. Next time the two of us were alone, I was absolutely going to ask.
"Ugh. So annoying."
Everyone said I was the prettiest. But no. Everyone said I was the best actor. But no. Because of her — because of Han Sora, it was all wrong!
Even just sitting there doing nothing, she was prettier than me.
"Mom! Sora's prettier than me. And they said she acts better, too!"
"Sora's prettier in some ways, but you're prettier in others, aren't you? There's no one alive who's pretty in every single way. Acting is... hmm, our Yujin sings and dances better, remember? Let's just let Sora have acting."
"No! I won't! I have to be the prettiest and the best!"
I had to be better than Sora at everything.
The door opened, and a boy came in. A boy dressed in the very colors he clearly hated, clothes and shoes alike. But that child....
He's so pretty... no wait, he's handsome! Incredibly handsome!
I am pretty. Which means the things I own have to be pretty, too. I'd had plenty of pretty things in my life, but never once a person pretty enough to make me want them.
But him... that child was prettier than anything I'd ever owned.
Sora, who'd been sitting quietly, was staring at him now, too. That face — I knew exactly what was going through Sora's head at that moment. If it was him... if he was next to me, then I could... Sora could...!
"Hey. Come over here and sit."
The moment PD Jo flashed the okay sign, Sung-shik hyung crumpled onto the floor.
"Whew~ these puppet costumes are no joke."
"Everyone's like that the first time. But honestly, hyung, you were really great during the recording."
If you aren't used to a puppet suit, your movements come out looking like someone flailing underwater. Sung-shik hyung had been exactly like that through rehearsal — but once he started matching his motions to mine, he got dramatically more natural.
"Turning your whole body when you look to the side, like you said — that made a world of difference. I prepped so hard for this, but the puppet head never even crossed my mind. Ha-jin, if it weren't for you, this could've been a disaster. The other corners are already a complete mess, and if this one had flopped too... ah, sorry — was that a bit hard to follow?"
Mindful of my age, he picked out words a child could understand. His diligence went without saying — the man even had consideration for others baked into his bones.
"You can talk normally, you know. I read difficult books just fine."
"R... right."
He wore the expression of a man gazing at some miraculous little prodigy. Six years old, twenty-two years on the job — this much is a piece of cake.
"You're going to be hugely successful, hyung. You'll land one hit show after another, win the Grand Award more than once — everywhere you go, people are going to know your face."
"Hehe, well, I certainly hope so. Thanks for the kind wor— hold it! That's supposed to be my line to you. Do you have any idea how old I am?"
"It's not exactly a New Year's blessing, but we'll call it one."
It was a real shame I couldn't tell him that I'd watched every bit of it happen in my past life.
I felt a gaze on me and turned my head to find Yujin studying me with an odd expression. Apparently she found it fascinating that I chatted so comfortably with Tiger Teacher.
In one hand, she held a phone dangling with pretty charms.
"You and Tiger Teacher get along really well. Is he someone you know?"
"I've known him since before anyone. Just me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
When I just snickered and left it at that, she didn't press any further.
"I'll give you my number, so you give me yours."
"Young lady. You must never hand out your phone number so carelessly. If you need to reach this boy, please use this number instead."
"No. I want to give him my number."
Apparently there was a phone reserved for contacting the men in her entourage. It was an era when 2G feature phones were everywhere, sure — but a kindergartner carrying two of them?
"I don't have a number."
"What?"
Her eyes went perfectly round. Is that really such a shock?
"Oh. Your manager handles your calls for you, right? Then give me your manager's number."
"Don't have one."
"Your manager doesn't have a cellphone either?"
"No. I don't have a manager. I'm not an actor. Byun Ha-jin, Dandelion Class, Somang Kindergarten... that's the whole list."
Phone still in hand, she froze solid. I honestly couldn't tell at which point exactly she'd been floored. The missing phone? The missing manager? Or just the fact that I was a kindergartner?
Her face flared scarlet, and her shoulders began to shake. One more touch — even the lightest one — and she looked ready to blow.
"Then WHY does someone who isn't even an actor act better than meee!!"
And at last, she exploded.