Script Reading! (2)

Lee Jiwoo.

The script-reading hall, noisy only a moment before, sank into silence at my entrance. So complete that even breathing seemed to vanish. I have never liked a quiet room like this. It feels like standing alone in the middle of a vast, empty space.

I opened my mouth to break it.

That was when someone else did it for me.

"All right, all right. A rookie just introduced herself. You people calling yourselves her seniors aren't just going to sit there, are you? I'm Kang Wonseong, the PD in overall charge of Ghost Singer. I look forward to working with all of you."

Kang Wonseong took the microphone and cracked the silence open. Kim Eun-joo followed, taking it next.

"Kim Eun-joo. I wrote Ghost Singer. I assume you all know my temperament well enough... so let's do this properly."

A few of the actors felt a chill run down their spines. That had not been a greeting. It had been a warning. Do not harass this girl any further.

Only then did the stares pinned on me finally peel away. I offered Kang Wonseong and Kim Eun-joo a quiet look of thanks, and the reading began.

"I'd love to skip the introductions, but the making-of team would have my head."

"Then I'll go first."

Choi Chun-sung took the microphone from Kim Eun-joo and rose from his seat.

"Choi Chun-sung. I play Kim Ji-sung, the male lead of this production. It is a tremendous honor to work alongside so many ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Grand Actors. I'll give it everything I have."

He had said Grand Actors, plural. His eyes, however, were locked on only one of them.

The actress playing the villain of this drama. The woman who turned every film she touched into a ten-million-ticket event, and who had only recently taken home an award from Cannes. Go Eun-hye. Korea's undisputed Grand Actor.

Ordinarily an actor in his position would have been angling for the PD and the writer. Choi Chun-sung already had the male lead, and he did not look interested in playing that game.

"I'm Han Mi-young. I'll be playing Kang Shin-hye, the female lead. I... look forward to working with everyone."

The introductions continued one by one. Then, suddenly, one actress was staring a hole straight through me.

Han Mi-young, was it.

From the gossip the actors and reporters had been trading earlier, this had to be the one who had fought with Kang Wonseong. The name matched. How she was still sitting here after a fight like that was a mystery — until I looked at Kang Wonseong's face, and the mystery solved itself. His already fearsome expression had gone even darker.

I had not spent that much time with him. Even so, I doubted there was anyone on earth whose personality sat more plainly on their face.

Pressure from the investors, or the production company.

I pulled up the news on Han Mi-young.

Wow... she's something else. Power harassment, public insults, and an affair rumor on top of it?

How she had managed to stay in this industry at all was beyond me. On the other hand, the sheer iron of a face that could still show up like this, shameless as ever, was almost impressive.

And here I thought I'd taken my share of hate.

I would have to yield her a whole move. Then it was my turn again. I had already said hello — but that had been Lee Jiwoo the rookie. This was Lee Jiwoo the actress. I took the microphone passed down the row and stood.

Aside from Choi Chun-sung, no one else had risen from their seats. If a newcomer copied that, people would start whispering that she already had star disease.

Better to overdo it at a time like this.

I tested the mic, lightly, and spoke.

"Hello. I'm Lee Jiwoo. I'll be playing Kang Sora in Ghost Singer. I know perfectly well what all of you think of me. Some of you are unhappy. Some of you are uneasy. As for that..."

I looked around the room. Choi Chun-sung wore an expression of polite disinterest. Han Mi-young was grinding her teeth. I finished.

"Please tell me after you've seen me act. That's all."

The hall erupted at once into a rustle of actors and reporters whispering over one another. I knew I had just said something insane. A rookie — a rookie who had never acted a day in her life — announcing she would prove ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠herself with her acting. I had clearly lost my mind.

I reached for my chair, trying to look as composed as possible.

A scrape. A thunk. Then a spectacular crash.

Of course the chair caught on the floor and went over backward. The hall that should have been ringing with gossip rang instead with the sound of my chair hitting the ground.

Ah, shit... this is so embarrassingggg!!

I screamed it only on the inside, and prayed for the moment to end.

Around then, someone else spoke.

Han Mi-young clenched her jaw until it creaked. Go Eun-hye paid her no mind, and with that, the introductions were finished.

"Then let's begin the reading."

The real work started now.

Kang Wonseong took the first step. He read the opening stage direction of the script.

Ghost Singer was, as the title promised, a story about song. The writing was not finished, but even a pass through the script made the shape clear: four arcs, sixteen episodes, and a proper ending. Kang Sora, my character, was the heart of the first episode — the face that would stamp the drama's first impression. Which meant, in a very real sense, that whether people kept watching would be decided by my acting.

The opening scene began with trainee Kang Shin-hye practicing alone. On paper, Kang Shin-hye was less a singer than a born actress, good enough from childhood to take home acting awards — a woman who loved singing so much she had walked into an idol trainee program anyway.

She hummed, then delivered her first line.

"Hmm~... ahem, ahem. Ah, failed again. I really thought I had it this time."

Wait... what?

I actually rocked back in my seat. That's what she was calling acting? For a second I thought she was joking. I looked at Kang Shin-hye again. Han Mi-young was throwing herself into it hard enough that a sheen of sweat had risen on her forehead. The skill, however, was not improving. If anything, it was getting worse.

"Hah..."

Up ahead, Go Eun-hye had a hand pressed to her brow. So she had meant it when she said she hated people who could not act. She was chugging bottled water like she might bolt out of her chair at any second.

"Let's try it again. I'm sure... the first syllable goes like this..."

Even in the muttered singing scene, none of Kang Shin-hye's charm came through. This was supposed to be someone singing for the sheer fun of it, not a performance. A thought surfaced, unbidden.

Did she not even read the script?

That was when the male lead, Kim Ji-sung, entered, unable to watch any longer. He took a dim view of a girl treating a song like a joke. In the setting, Kim Ji-sung would yield on anything except music. And now a woman had appeared in front of a man like that, singing as if it were a game.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"K-Kim Ji-sung...?! I heard you already left for the day."

The exacting, uncompromising singer Kim Ji-sung met a heroine who treated songs lightly and played around with them. He would soften later, but their first impression of each other was an unmitigated disaster. At the CEO's earnest request he agreed to teach the newly arrived Kang Shin-hye — and then piled every menial chore he could find on her, hoping to drive the heroine back onto an acting stage.

"Aaaagh! What is that guy's problem?! Why is he making me do this too?! I just want to sing!"

After a full day of slave labor under Kim Ji-sung, Kang Shin-hye finally exploded.

That was the moment. Her fury set the ground trembling; objects began to fall. And with that, it was finally my turn.

"Hh... hhik..."

I sobbed in a voice that could have been laughter or tears. Kang Shin-hye still could not see me — I was a ghost. She would only start seeing me after my continued interference drove her to a shaman for a talisman. For now I was nothing but a spirit wandering the living world.

"...."

Kang Shin-hye's cue. She did not take it. She just stared at me with an axe-blade glare that said, You want to go? Right here?

I had meant to act in concert with the lead. And then—

You're hopeless. Time you took a hit.

I glared right back at Kang Shin-hye and delivered a line. Originally, all I had here was a sob — just enough to announce that a ghost was present.

Even I, with a single week of practice, know acting is never easy, and I worked not to get in anyone's way. You just wasted the time of every person in this room.

I had already read the script dozens of times. I had the whole thing in my head. If I spoke here, nothing in the setting would break. I turned on the Kang Shin-hye who treated songs like a toy, and I shouted.

"Don't..."

"Hm?"

The instant I let even that much out, Kang Wonseong was the first to catch it.

A roar that filled the entire reading hall. A crack ran through the air. Goosebumps rose on every arm in the room, as if a real ghost had just screamed.

"Ugh..."

"Hold it. Ms. Han Mi-young. You cannot fold here. Ghost or not, Kang Shin-hye is a character with a strong heart."

"...Yes. I'm sorry."

"Then let's take it again."

Han Mi-young ground her teeth, glared at me once more, and forced herself back into the reading.

After contact with the ghost, Kang Shin-hye went looking for a shaman. Once could be nerves. Twice, three times — that was when fear set in. She came back with a talisman, stormed the place she had met the ghost, and slashed the air with it.

"How's this?! A ghost-catching talisman I paid an insane price for! Come on. Come on out! Show yourself, you ghost!"

Kang Shin-hye stared at me with fury in her eyes. She was not the only one. Leads, supporting players — every person in the room was watching me, unblinking.

Hah... last time I threw a line without meaning to. This time I actually have one. And somehow... I'm not nervous at all.

Maybe it was from watching Han Mi-young's acting, which had been hovering somewhere near Foot Acting. Even if I was bad, I was fairly sure I could still beat her.

I am Kang Sora. Kang Sora.

Having become Kang Sora, I lifted my head, slowly, and fixed my gaze on Kang Shin-hye alone. Kang Sora took pride in being a ghost. Everything else, she regarded as beneath her — a clean, complete arrogance. My eyes were past cold. They were frozen. Arrogance and distaste mixed in equal measure.

Choi Chun-sung watched my acting and muttered before he could stop himself.

"That acting... and she's a rookie?"