The Stage Belongs to Me
It was the stage. I climbed onto the small-theater platform. I’d already finished one rehearsal, but there was still no one there.
How long has it been since I stood here?
Man. In my past life, I’d stood on this very spot more times than I could count.
I looked around. Honestly, I hadn’t expected to ever stand in this theater again.
It’s the same theater where I used to perform so many plays in my previous life.
I let my eyes travel over every wall.
Nothing had changed.
Not even the color of the audience seats changed.
For a moment, it felt like I’d been thrown back into my previous life.
Well, obviously that’s not what happened.
There was proof right in front of me.
I looked down at my own hands. They were still small.
I’m really not Lee Hanjo anymore. I’m Ma Gongza.
It felt strange, even now.
I wiped away the sweat from rehearsal and lifted my head again.
It was such a small stage, but one I’d loved with all my heart.
Lee Hanjo never got to be the lead in theater, either.
I’d played major supporting roles, but I’d never once been the main character.
Come to think of it, that was my life.
I’d been the kind of supporting actor people said shone brighter than the leads, and yet I’d never once managed to move to the front.
If I’d kept going, maybe I would’ve had my chance someday...
I let out a long breath. Maybe it was because theaters were always dusty, but I started coughing.
Now I get why I wanted to do a one-man show.
So that was the regret I’d carried into my next life.
I just wanted to do everything myself, at least once.
Of course, that made it insanely difficult.
I turned around and looked at the stage again.
My first leading role in theater.
Granted, the audience was only reporters and acquaintances.
Come to think of it, who did Mom invite?
Directors? Writers? Or artists from other fields?
No, wait. Since it’s charity-related, maybe people with deep pockets are coming?
I shrugged.
This performance may be free, but...
I turned back and grinned.
I’m a professional.
The difference between an amateur and a professional was whether you could get the other person to open their wallet or not, right?
Of course, artistic value isn’t all about money...
Still, that’s at least partly true, isn’t it?
If the directors are coming, I need to leave a good impression.
And of course I had to do well enough that the reporters couldn’t write some trash article.
I’m definitely going to make the sponsors spend money.
Our foundation had to get nice and fat if it was going to help a lot of people.
Then we can feed the kids who are going hungry.
I stretched and loosened up my body. Maybe I was nervous, because every muscle in me was knotted tight.
This play is a one-man show, so I’ll be moving around like crazy.
I let out a sigh. Honestly, it was painfully ironic to suffer so much from a disaster I’d called down on my own head.
I made such a bold challenge, I thought my liver was going to shrink up and disappear.
It really was true that a one-man show wasn’t something just anybody could pull off.
But I’m not just anybody.
I straightened my shoulders. The rehearsal was over, and it was about time the audience started coming in.
I clenched my fists.
Being able to do what I want feels like heaven, honestly.
Let’s do well! Ma Gongza!
I smiled on the stage where I was about to take my first lead role. Maybe because it was a new challenge, my heart was pounding.
Director Won Jong-sa did not believe Ma Gongza was a genius.
"Hey, aren’t you exaggerating a little too much?"
Director Rhy-lac shook his head at once.
"Senior, you don’t believe me?"
"No. I know you adore Ma Gongza because he got your film over ten million admissions, but..."
Won Jong-sa clicked his tongue.
"He acted well. But that doesn’t make him a genius."
"Ugh, this is seriously unfair. Ma Gongza really is a genius. I’m telling you, he’s amazing."
"A genius is something rare, Rhy-lac. You’re overrating him."
Director Rhy-lac thumped his own chest with his fist.
"Damn it, you still don’t believe me? Why? The reporters said I was making a fuss too."
"Rhy-lac. To be honest, I’ll admit the kid’s looks are incredible."
Won Jong-sa nodded. Come to think of it, the first time he’d seen the boy, he’d understood what a visual shock really was.
Still, that doesn’t make him an acting genius.
Just how hard was that to pull off?
"Come on, Senior. I have an eye for this stuff too. I’m serious. Just let him do it and you’ll see."
Won Jong-sa casually ignored his junior’s insistence.
"Listen, kid. Stop saying ridiculous things. Fine, I’d love it if he were a genius. Then I’d have something good to use."
"Then use him."
"No chance, kid. Can Ma Gongza really play that role? It’s absurdly delicate."
"I’m telling you, he’s a genius. Senior, don’t regret this later. I recommended him, didn’t I?"
"I won’t regret it. Ugh, where the hell is a child acting genius when you need one? I poke around and nothing comes out."
Rhy-lac let out a deep sigh.
"Still, the Earth keeps turning. If people won’t believe the truth, what can you do?"
Then he grinned and puffed out his chest.
"Well, as long as I’m the only one who can use him, that’s excellent by me."
"Oh? Listen to this guy."
"Seriously, Senior, don’t believe anyone else. Just trust me and use him. If Gongza isn’t busy, I’m happy."
Won Jong-sa’s brows snapped together.
"You dragged me to a play for that?"
"Ah."
Director Rhy-lac gave a sly smile.
"You’re free, aren’t you?"
"You little punk, getting arrogant just because you hit ten million."
"Senior, what kind of person do you think I am? I’m hurt!"
Director Rhy-lac grabbed his senior’s hand tightly.
"I’ve always been arrogant. What’s so special about ten million admissions? What I really want is to have a whole genre named after me, isn’t it?"
Won Jong-sa stared at him, speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"This Rhy-lac guy really is just like this, isn’t he?"
Rhy-lac shot off a love bullet, only to get his forearm pinched in return.
"Has your brain gone bad?"
"I’m always bad, Senior!"
"Argh, I’ll—"
Won Jong-sa took a deep breath and fanned himself with his hand. In any case, this bastard was enough to make his blood pressure spike.
Still, he’s not the type to just mouth off.
Maybe there really was something to this child actor named Ma Gongza.
Won Jong-sa clenched and unclenched his fist.
"Fine. Then I’ll see for myself."
"Oh, Senior. You’re believing me?"
"Be quiet!"
"Hahahahaha! I respect you, Senior!"
Rhy-lac shot a heart through the air, then smiled. For all their bickering, this was a man who trusted him.
"Let’s go, Senior."
"If that play is bad, you’re buying me drinks, got it?"
"I’ll buy them. Makgeolli and pajeon."
"Soju! You hit ten million, and you’re talking about makgeolli?"
"Hahahahaha, our queen took all my money."
"Ah..."
Director Won Jong-sa looked up at the sky.
"Well, the queen invested in it."
"She does at least give you an allowance, right?"
"She gave me a pretty generous card. Said it was for the next film prep budget anyway..."
"R-right. Okay."
Won Jong-sa nodded.
"Let’s eat pajeon."
"Yes, Senior. But I guarantee it: you’re going to end up paying of your own accord."
"Look at this brat."
"I guarantee it. I’d even bet my family name on it. I’ll be your son, Senior."
"Hey, that’s disgusting. I don’t want a son like you!"
"Aw, but you’d like it!"
Rhy-lac grinned and opened the car door. Won Jong-sa got in with a suspicious look in his eyes.
The engine started smoothly. As they drove down the road, Won Jong-sa spoke up.
"Hey, Rhy-lac. If it’s something Ma’s done, it’ll probably be lavish, right?"
"I’m not sure. The Sungjin Group’s been a little noisy lately. Our Gongza even got hit by a plastic bottle."
"That was too much. Ah, I’d heard he started a charity foundation too. That’s why this play is happening, right? But will there be caviar?"
"Come on. No way. If it were that kind of event, they’d have done it in a hotel. It’s probably just a play. I guess I’ll know when I get there."
The roads weren’t congested. The two of them talked about this and that as they made their way down the highway.
Ordinary.
The theater was just an ordinary Daehangno small theater. After checking the invitation tickets from Rhy-lac and Won Jong-sa, a staff member guided them to their seats.
No caviar, then.
I’d wanted to try some.
Won Jong-sa clicked his tongue as he sat down. It had been a while since he’d visited a small theater.
Beside him, Rhy-lac straightened his shoulders and said, "It’s still the same here."
"Yeah."
"Brings back memories, Senior."
Won Jong-sa snorted and looked around. The invited guests were slowly taking their seats one by one.
Huh?
Honestly, he was a little surprised.
"Rhy-lac, that person..."
"Ah, that’s an investor from G Group."
"Why would an investor come to a tiny theater like this?"
"G Group’s been on a roll lately. When the Wind Touches, remember?"
"Ah, right. Ma Gongza was in that."
"They invested in it because of our Gongza alone, and it turned into a success."
That wasn’t all. Designer Jung Ri-ri was there too, and broadcast producers and writers were visible as well.
Leaving that aside...
In the seats directly in front of the two directors sat a nun. Won Jong-sa blinked and straightened up.
"Why is there a nun here? Rhy-lac, do you know her?"
"I’m not sure. I do..."
The nun crossed herself and stared forward. The two men quickly looked ahead as well, not wanting to catch her eye.
"The play’s starting soon."
"Yeah, kid. All right. Let’s see how good he really is."
Once everyone had come in, the lights began to go out one by one. Won Jong-sa waited lazily.
Is Ma Soo-jung performing?
He’d heard she was doing a play, but no one had even told him the title.
A single spotlight came on. Won Jong-sa stroked his chin and looked ahead.
Whoa.
He honestly had to admire it.
The face really is genius-level.
What on earth was that child made of?
Under the overhead lights, Ma Gongza looked like a noble little son from some European castle.
Strange. Even his clothes are just ordinary...
Ma Gongza was wearing nothing more than a white shirt and trousers.
They say fashion is completed by the face. Guess plain clothes can look expensive if the face is good enough.
The child walked slowly forward. Maybe it was because of the aura his face gave off, but the people who had been chatting fell silent.
Ma Gongza stood at dead center stage. Then he smiled brightly and said, "Helloo. I’m Gongza."
The child bowed his head and lifted it again.
"Thank you all for coming to see Gongza today."
People around the theater called back warmly. Ma Gongza made eye contact with the audience and clapped his hands.
Clap.
Won Jong-sa was genuinely startled.
Has this kid really never done theater before?
He looked far too skilled at naturally drawing a response from the audience.
No, more to the point...
Won Jong-sa blinked.
His voice projection is perfect.
It was still a bright, childish voice, but the resonance gave it away. That was breath support, all right.
D-did Ma teach him this?
Even if someone taught him, it would take plenty of practice to make it sound this natural.
Won Jong-sa erased the image he’d had of Ma Gongza. With this, the situation had changed.
Now I’m interested.
The child trotted off to the left and dragged out a box.
"Heave-ho! It’s heavy!"
Then he expertly placed a tray and a tea set on top of the box.
Tea ceremony?
The child looked out at the audience and said, "Today, I’m going to have a cup of tea."
Ma Gongza lifted the teacup high. "This tea is called Sour Tea! If you drink it and go, ‘Aaaah, sour!’ then it’s Sour Tea!"
He looked at Ma Gongza through a director’s eyes.
The character’s a little vague right now...
And yet there was no excess in any of his movements. It should have looked awkward, but instead it melted across the stage like oil.
Is he still just a kid?
Won Jong-sa blinked. Honestly, he felt himself about to admire the boy out loud.
The presence is incredible.
There was only Ma Gongza onstage. And yet, for some reason, it didn’t feel empty at all.
"To make Sour Tea, you need ingredients."
The child trembled both arms.
"They have to be super! sour!"
His adorable little act drew laughter from the audience.
Ma Gongza trotted over to the tea set.
Then the atmosphere changed.