Nothing in This World Is Free
Han Mi-young showing up here had thrown me for a second... but wrapping up the script reading came first.
"Looks like everyone's done with introductions. Let's get the reading started. As you all know, I'm Shin Yeomyeong, director of Magnificent Bride."
With a scrape of his chair, Shin Yeomyeong stood and bowed his head to the room.
Bowing from the director's seat is no small thing. One wrong move and an actor can start overstepping the director's authority, so you have to keep at least a minimum of gravity. That went double for the extras playing Bride A and Bride B — and for Han Mi-young. Shin Yeomyeong knew it as well as anyone.
"The reason I'm greeting you like this is to thank you for joining a film that's had more than its share of trouble — one that nearly collapsed."
"That said... once filming starts — no, starting from this script reading — I'll give it everything I have as director. I hope you will do the same with the roles you've been given."
This was a warning. Don't overstep the director's authority. I will not forgive it. He'd simply stretched those words out longer. The meaning was the same.
Whether those people actually got it was another question... Well, as long as it didn't land on me, I'd ignore it.
I'd turned the volume down as far as it would go, so there was almost no chance the reading would leak through the phone stream. Even so, I had to stay at least a little careful. I'd signed a spoiler-prevention clause, but stories have a way of spreading without you even noticing.
"You all pretend you don't know even if you do. Our company's legal team is pretty fierce."
I didn't know the details, but a tabloid that had tried to tear me down with a smear piece had vanished entirely. The CEO had just said it was nothing, to focus on my own work. He hadn't given me the rest.
I even read the chat nodding along like they already knew, then set the camera so only I was in frame and started the reading.
"#1-1. A shabby warehouse. Kang Tae-oh and a junior cop walk inside."
Director Shin Yeomyeong read the stage direction.
"Ugh... what is that smell... Senior, how are you fine?"
The junior cop read his lines with his face all scrunched up. Now it was Kang Tae-oh's turn to answer.
"Me? It's nothing. Try putting in twenty years as a detective. It's peaceful now, but twenty years... no, even just ten years ago, we were finding a body about once a month. You know what? I'd look at arms chopped off and heads rolling on the floor, then go out for innard stew for dinner."
Whoa...
He was clearly just reading the lines lightly, but this was... a lot. My face crumpled before I could stop it.
"Hold on. Kang Tae-oh shouldn't sit that heavy there. I want it a little lighter. Right now... I can't tell who's the criminal."
Director Shin Yeomyeong caught the problem in the acting immediately. Must've been because he'd turned out so many masterpieces in a previous life. This was his first film this time around, and his eye was still terrifying.
"Ah... I must've slipped into playing the culprit without realizing."
"Then I'll go again."
"Alright."
Kim Haseong admitted the mistake without fuss and nodded. Kim Haseong... this was my first time seeing him in person, and he looked like the real deal.
Top actors have such strong pride that they don't hesitate to let displeasure show on their faces when you critique their acting. There'd been actors like that even when I was shooting the drama. The reason it hadn't become a problem back then was that the PD was Kang Wonseong and the writer was Park Ja-wook — names you could call top-tier — so nobody could go around flexing their pride.
This time was different. If anything, there were bound to be actors who'd try to run the board their own way. They'd follow along at first, since the director had warned them... but people's memories fade as time goes on. That's when the director would have to hold the center... well, he'd figure it out.
I glanced at Director Shin Yeomyeong. He looked like he wasn't thinking about anything else, watching Kim Haseong's acting with a serious, meticulous eye.
"Okay. That's good. Next scene. #3-12. Teresa, having witnessed the victim. Teresa giving a statement to the police with a terrified expression."
My turn.
I'd already memorized the entire script, so I didn't need to look at it — but I picked it up anyway. Eyes were staring straight at me. Some of them were evaluating me, waiting to see how good I actually was. Some were worried whether I could even handle a role this different from what I'd done in the drama. And last, two gazes that didn't look worried at all — packed with expectation instead.
...Two?
One was Director Shin Yeomyeong, but the other...
I checked where the gaze was coming from, and Han Mi-young was looking at me.
Why?
Ah. This wasn't the time. I considered standing, then just read the script sitting down. That was a lead's privilege. Director Shin Yeomyeong nodded beside me at that.
"That day... the weather was bright, and I walked the streets without end, toward where a green wind was blowing. We sisters receive God's revelation from time to time, you see. I walked and walked following that revelation, and then... something caught under my feet."
My voice trembled. The corpse rose vividly before my eyes — brutally murdered, bleeding in the shape of a cross.
"Ugh... even if I am... a sister devoted to God, seeing something like that... I'm sorry."
It wasn't just my voice shaking. My hands, and my eyes — they wouldn't stay still, as if I were terrified.
I glanced at my phone and saw the chat starting to pick fights with each other. If I could stream properly I could moderate in the middle, but right now I had to focus on the reading. Even if I was the lead, I was still just a rookie who'd appeared this year. If I looked like I couldn't focus here, little things like that would pile up into complaints.
And yet... even after my lines ended, nobody reacted at all.
"Um... did I make some kind of mistake?"
"Ah, no. You did well. Too well, actually... I thought the Teresa I'd only imagined had actually appeared in front of me. Th-then. Let's move on."
Director Shin Yeomyeong finished praising me and kept the reading going.
"Again."
"Yes..."
"Again."
".....Yes."
"Haa... again."
"Again" had come out of Director Shin Yeomyeong's mouth more times than I could count. The actor being critiqued started shrinking in on herself, and now she was messing up even in places that hadn't been called out.
"Hoo... shall we take a short break for now? And if it still doesn't work this time... we'll have to recast."
"That's—! N-no. I can do it! Please give me another chance!"
"That's what I'm saying."
Shin Yeomyeong looked at the actor who'd been getting called out the whole time — Lee Seha, playing Bride A.
"We'll take a short break, then I'll give you another chance."
"Ah.. yes!"
Hearing Lee Seha's answer, Director Shin Yeomyeong stood and left the reading room. The remaining actors let out sighs of relief in the suddenly lighter atmosphere.
"You okay?"
"I'm okay for now. Still... it's a break. Let's rest a little."
What? What was she doing right now?
Has she lost her mind?
I frowned at Lee Seha flopping down over the desk. There were actors older than her here, and even a senior veteran. Flopping down so brazenly in a place like that, and not even understanding what a break meant — I was at a loss for words. I was going to have to say something.
"Hold on a second."
"...Senior Kim Haseong?"
"Skip the 'senior.' You're not even my direct junior... and looking at our age gap... oof, I can't even see it."
I blinked at Kim Haseong, whose tone was a whole dimension lighter than when he was acting.
"What? Surprised my talking's so light?"
"Uh.. no, it's not that... actually.. yes."
I nodded, and as if that were only natural, Kim Haseong said,
"If my acting were the same as real life, I'd have already killed a few people. And I don't particularly want to act in real life either. More importantly — you were about to go over there, weren't you?"
Kim Haseong jerked his chin toward Lee Seha.
"Yes, that's right. Acting that high-handed without even understanding the director's intent..."
"Leave her."
"Leave her?"
"Kids like that are going to rot as extras their whole lives. I came out of the same theater scene as them, you know? That was ten years ago for sure, and if they're still in theater... they're already done."
The words were pretty vicious compared to his light tone, and I couldn't help falling into thought.
"Maybe it's because nobody's teaching them properly from the side? If they just meet the right signpost."
"And who's supposed to be that signpost? Actress Lee Jiwoo."
Kim Haseong looked straight at me as he said it.
There's no supply without demand.
At Kim Haseong's words, I had no choice but to sit back down. He wasn't wrong. Nothing in this world is free, and without demand, supply can't exist either. All I could do was look at Lee Seha with a pitying gaze.
Then the break ended, and a kind of test resumed. There was no need to see the result. Everyone here knew it except Lee Seha and her friend.
"Haa... looks like we'll have to recast after all."