CHAPTER 012: The Framing Effect
CHAPTER 012: The Framing Effect
Four stat points.
What was the most efficient way to invest them?
I recalled the detailed stat window.
【Acting Skill — Detailed Attributes】
Emotional Expression: B
Line Delivery: B+
Physical Acting: C-
Physical acting was last priority.
Unless you were playing a major lead role, the camera almost never zoomed in close enough to capture an actor’s subtle movements in detail.
Line delivery at B+ was enough. Kang Seoho wasn’t a character who talked a lot, either.
‘Then… it’s emotional expression.’
The core of Kang Seoho’s role was emotionally deceiving the viewers perfectly.
The shock of discovering that the kind, trustworthy helper was actually the villain behind everything.
If I could portray that reversal properly, I’d leave a powerful impression on drama fans.
My emotional expression was currently B.
If I poured all my points into it, could I reach A+?
So far, I hadn’t met anyone in person with A+ acting.
If that was true, I could devour most actors alive.
With high expectations, I invested the stat points.
【Emotional Expression: B → B+】
【Remaining Stat Points: 3】
【Emotional Expression: B+ → A-】
【Remaining Stat Points: 2】
【Emotional Expression: A- → A】
【Remaining Stat Points: 1】
In an instant, I spent three points and pushed it up to A.
The moment I tried to invest the last point, an unexpected system alert popped up.
【Warning: Insufficient Popularity】
【At your current Popularity level, you cannot exceed A-rank】
【Minimum Requirement: Popularity 30】
Damn it. There was a restriction like that?
Still, from the system’s standpoint, it made sense.
If a total unknown rookie suddenly showed “possessed-level” acting, the world wouldn’t accept it.
It was a shame, but there was no reason to be disappointed.
At A-rank, I was on the same level as Seo Yoonha.
That meant I matched one of the top 20-something actors in Korea.
And if a rookie who’d just debuted showed that level?
‘It’ll be chaos.’
I was already starting to look forward to the script-reading.
StudioPlus’s script-reading venue.
Before things officially began, the reporters who arrived early were gathered in small clusters, whispering.
“Why is Writer Park Eunju doing an open script-reading?”
“Seriously. Ever since her debut project, it’s always been closed. I think this is the first time I’ve seen her call reporters in like this?”
“She’s confident. If it’s Park Eunju with Director Chae Wongi, they’re already guaranteed at least half the ratings. And this time Seo Yoonha’s attached too.”
“But the second-half lineup is stacked this year. Doesn’t look easy.”
“The rom-com queen Writer Choi Jeongin is putting out her first new work in seven years, right? And they say the male lead is Na Dohyeon. The actor who hit 20% ratings last time.”
“SBC has a medical drama set in a major hospital. I heard the production budget is insane. They’re making a huge fuss because episode one starts in the U.S.”
“Then it might be marketing. Park Eunju’s side is nervous too, so they’re boosting the firepower early. To get lots of news out.”
“Oh, by the way, did you hear? The last actor they confirmed for casting—people say it was crazy. Name was Ryu Sunho, I think.”
“The guy from the Mate ad?”
“Huh. I heard something different. I heard Writer Park basically picked him reluctantly to match scheduling.”
“Either way, we’ll know once we see it today.”
At that moment, JTBN reporter Seo Jiyeon walked over and cut in.
“Want to bet coffee? Ryu Sunho either tears it up today—or gets torn apart.”
“Ugh, that dopamine addict is here again! No. I’m not betting with you!”
“It’s more fun with a bet. It’s just coffee.”
“It’s not about the money. It’s that I lose every time I bet with you!”
“Hehe. What can I do? I’ve got good instincts.”
“Then which side are you betting on?”
“Mm… I’m not telling anyone who isn’t betting today.”
The reading room door opened, and the cast and production team entered.
“That’s Park Juwon!”
Black pants, a neat shirt.
A man with a soft smile strolled in with ease.
A star with an attractive face and superior proportions, already holding a massive fandom across Asia.
He was playing the male lead, Detective Han Jaeyoon.
Just his entrance made it feel like the room brightened.
The atmosphere among the female reporters changed subtly.
“He’s really handsome…”
“His visuals are no joke, seriously.”
“Right? He’s barely wearing any makeup but his skin is amazing. Better than most women.”
“Juwon looks better in person than on screen.”
“The real thing really is different. With a face like that, he can play anything and it’ll feel convincing.”
While they were still gushing over Park Juwon’s looks, another man entered—white T-shirt and jeans.
The reporters’ eyes, which had been on Park Juwon, suddenly shifted.
“…Huh?”
“Wait… who is that?”
“Isn’t that the guy? The one from the Mate ad recently?”
“Ryu Sunho?”
“Wow, he was standing next to Park Juwon just now and he doesn’t get overshadowed at all?”
Some people didn’t agree.
They thought Park Juwon looked slightly overshadowed.
A youthful face, but one that would bloom even more once the baby fat was gone.
A few reporters were already falling into a trance, imagining what he’d look like in the future.
“Does Ryu Sunho have an agency?”
“I heard he doesn’t.”
“Wow. Then it’ll be fierce today. Entertainment companies are going to drool over him.”
“We haven’t actually seen his acting properly yet.”
“So what? If he can’t act, they can just make him an idol.”
As reporters’ gazes subtly shifted, whispers increased one by one.
Park Juwon must’ve noticed too—he turned his head toward Ryu Sunho.
‘I’ve never seen that face before.’
In a brief moment, he scanned Ryu Sunho.
Then he smoothed his expression and casually asked his manager.
“Who is he?”
“Ah, they say he’s a rookie cast as Kang Seoho. You know—the model from the Mate beverage ad.”
“Ah.”
Park Juwon nodded shortly.
He vaguely remembered now that he’d heard “ad model.”
‘But… isn’t this stage too big for a mere ad model to jump into? He’ll struggle to keep up with the acting rhythm.’
Thinking that, he sat down—
And Seo Yoonha arrived.
Right in the seat next to him.
“It’s been a while, Yoonha.”
“Yeah. Nice to see you, Oppa Juwon.”
After exchanging a few greetings, Park Juwon lowered his voice slightly.
“By the way, did you see that guy? The rookie playing Kang Seoho.”
“Yes. Why?”
“They say he’s from commercials. The mask is fine, but… honestly, I’m a little worried.”
“About what?”
“Our drama’s tone isn’t light, you know. Especially Kang Seoho—there’s real emotional weight. If he can’t follow our emotional line because he lacks experience, I’m worried the rhythm will break.”
Seo Yoonha closed her script and quietly lifted her head.
“Oppa, have you actually seen Sunho act?”
“I watched the commercial. There weren’t any lines, though.”
“Then watch what you say.”
Park Juwon froze for a beat.
“If you haven’t seen him act directly, you shouldn’t talk like that so easily.”
“Oh. This is the first time I’ve seen you go this far. Okay, okay. If I was rude, sorry.”
“It’s not rude. I’m just trying to keep you from kicking your blanket later.”
“?”
Seo Yoonha returned her gaze to the script.
Then she added quietly.
“You’ll know once you see it later. How careless you were.”
At the very front of the long table, Writer Park Eunju and Director Chae Wongi were seated.
“This is… I’m getting nervous for no reason.”
“Because of Sunho?”
“Yeah. I set the stage, but whether it turns into hellfire or a flower field depends on Sunho’s acting.”
“I took a quick look earlier and the vibe was weird. Like… he’s being underestimated because of his looks?”
“He’s being underrated because he’s too handsome. Everyone’s thinking of him as just an ad model.”
“I’m kind of offended too. Like I’m some blind-eyed idiot.”
“Easy, Writer Park. There are a lot of eyes here.”
“Ha… seriously, please do well…! Make everyone who underestimated you look like idiots!”
“But you can’t play favorites, either.”
“Of course. My feedback will be the same—ruthless and unbiased.”
A little later, microphones were passed to them.
Director Chae Wongi announced the start of the script reading.
“Thank you for coming to the first script reading. I’m Chae Wongi, the director.”
Then Writer Park Eunju took the mic.
“This is a work with delicate emotional grain. One line, one gaze can change the weight of a scene.”
She looked across the actors one by one.
“So today, I hope you use this time to feel the emotions of the characters you’re playing. I’m looking forward to it.”
When her short remarks ended, the air in the room shifted subtly.
Some actors adjusted their posture and straightened their scripts again with their fingertips.
“Then, actors, please introduce yourselves briefly.”
“Hello. I’m Park Juwon, playing Detective Han Jaeyoon, who relies on forensics and scientific investigation. I’m really nervous to be working with such amazing people. Haha.”
“I’m Seo Yoonha, playing the shaman Shin Myeongju. She has a wide range of emotional textures, so I’m very attached to her, and I want to build her well together with you all.”
“And for reference, Yoonha is currently taking an intensive ten-week shaman academy course for this role.”
“Hahaha!”
Seo Yoonha blushed slightly.
After the supporting cast introduced themselves one after another, it was finally my turn.
So many people were watching me.
Not just actors, but reporters and even investors.
Eyes full of curiosity—or verification.
‘First impression matters.’
There was something called the framing effect.
Even with the same information, the frame it’s presented in changes people’s judgment and choices.
The information known about me could be summarized into two main points.
One: a rookie who debuted as an ad model.
Two: a young man who received a Brave Citizen Award.
Those who saw me through the first frame would carry negative prejudice.
Those who saw me through the second would see a positive image.
Both were true, but depending on which I chose to present, people’s attitude toward me would change.
So I introduced myself like this.
“I’m Ryu Sunho, playing Kang Seoho. Since my early self, who received a Brave Citizen Award, resembles Seoho’s early self a lot, I prepared while empathizing more deeply. Please take care of me.”
As I finished, Writer Park Eunju’s lips lifted—just barely.
The people who’d been staring at me sharply softened into more generous expressions.
A short introduction, and the atmosphere was already shifting.
…
“Then we’ll begin with episode one.”
The script reading started.
A few lines went back and forth, and Writer Park quietly spoke.
“You need to swallow that emotion. If you spit it out like that right away, the emotional line breaks.”
The actor reading froze for a moment.
Another scene—someone was about to explode emotionally.
“That’s too much. That character still needs to build the emotion slowly.”
Writer Park didn’t say much, but every single word made the actors’ faces harden.
Everyone tightened their grip on the script.
‘This atmosphere is pretty brutal.’
Then—
“Let’s do the part where Juwon and Sunho meet.”
Park Juwon stared straight at me.
A look that said, Let’s see you, then.
‘Fine. Let’s see.’
I checked Park Juwon’s acting stats.
【Park Juwon】
【Acting Skill — Detailed Attributes】
Emotional Expression: B+
Line Delivery: B+
Physical Acting: A-
Compared to me, the biggest gap was in physical acting.
But in a script reading where it was all voice acting, I could eat him.
Because my emotional expression was A now.
“Outside the fire station yard, after training, Seoho and Detective Han Jaeyoon—out on a field check—meet for the first time.”
After a brief narration of the background, I spoke first.
“Would you like some water? It’s really hot today, isn’t it?”
Seoho held out a bottle with both hands, smiling brightly.
The smile spreading under his sweat-damp brow was clear—transparent, without clutter.
“Thank you.”
Detective Han Jaeyoon nodded briefly as he took it.
A subtle distance—neither cold nor kind.
“Firefighter?”
“No. I’m still preparing for the firefighter civil service exam. Today I came as a volunteer.”
“Why do something this hard?”
A question thrown out with a blank face.
But Seoho didn’t shrink.
Instead, he smiled cheerfully and answered.
“Because there’s someone I respect—someone who always stands in front of fire.”
At that, Jaeyoon’s eyebrow twitched.
He stared at Seoho without speaking, then slowly pulled a cigarette from his pocket.
“…Fire is dangerous. Dioxins are bad for your body, too.”
A tossed-off remark.
A warning out of habit, dry to the end.
Even hearing that, Seoho didn’t flinch at all.
Instead, he looked at the detective’s cigarette flame with calm eyes.
Scattering ash. Shifting wind. Seoho’s gaze sliding over it.
Then he smiled again.
A smile as bright as midday sun.
“What you have to be careful of isn’t fire. It’s the mind that takes it lightly.”
The moment my last line ended, the room went deathly quiet.
Park Juwon, hit by that silence up close, was the first to inhale.
‘A rookie… really?’
He kept his expression controlled, but inside his mind was spinning.
I wasn’t just reading the lines as written.
It felt like Seoho was alive and breathing right in front of him.
The tone, rhythm, even the breathing—everything flowed at the exact right timing.
‘It was natural. Too natural. It felt like it was really him.’
He looked around.
He wasn’t the only one shocked.
In a corner, veteran actor Park Dusim narrowed his eyes.
‘There’s nowhere the emotion spikes.’
This wasn’t a scene with tears or a big emotional outburst.
It was the opposite—an understated scene that had to gently convey the character’s goodness and conviction.
That kind of acting was the hardest for rookies.
‘And he… he comes alive in this.’
Usually, there was only one reason.
When the role and the actor’s real personality were similar, they could fully digest it.
Did Writer Park cast that kid as Kang Seoho because she’d seen his true self through the Brave Citizen Award?
‘Then the early part passes… but what about the later part…?’
If they weren’t careful, it could become a self-inflicted wound.
With suspicion, Park Juwon looked toward Writer Park.
Receiving Park Dusim’s gaze, Writer Park whispered with a stunned expression.
“…He’s way better than he was at the audition.”
Beside her, Director Chae Wongi agreed without even turning his head.
“Yeah… back then the early part felt kind of iffy… but now he’s completely digested Seoho.”
“This is bad…”
Writer Park spoke in a grave voice.
“If he’s already like this… how much better is he going to be in the blackening scene…?”