How a Loan Shark Survives as an Actor — Episode 9: Mint of the Devil
As my turn drew closer, a range of emotions surfaced on the faces of the actors around me.
Most of them were far from positive.
From the moment I'd arrived at the Script Reading Room up until the idea I'd just presented, the people who had formed a reasonable impression of me now began eyeing me with unmistakable wariness.
I could even read a kind of grim resolve in them—a determination to keep from laughing outright in my face, no matter how catastrophically I butchered my performance compared to Yoo Seul-ho's glittering reputation.
"Min-jun, after finishing his part-time shift, trudges wearily home, his steps heavy with exhaustion."
The instant the staff member read the stage direction, I heard Woo Jun-seo beside me let out a long, deep sigh.
The glares that had been fixed on me vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but eyes bleary with fatigue sweeping the room.
"Forget food. Let me just sleep first…."
The moment the male lead's voice, sunk low and heavy, spread quietly through the reading room—
Three, two, one. Now!
"You're still not dead?"
My voice, deliberately pitched flippant and shallow, sliced clean into the scene.
The atmosphere flipped in a heartbeat, and Woo Jun-seo's brow creased faintly.
"Hyung, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"What do I mean? You've gotta die so I can collect the insurance money, you little bastard."
Every word he drawled out as he sauntered closer dripped with sneering contempt.
He kept his tone featherlight throughout, careful that no real weight ever crept into the lines—even by accident.
"When's your paycheck coming in? I need money for the PC bang."
"I gave you money last week."
"Hey, when the hell did I spend the last of that?"
At my shout, the person sitting beside me flinched hard.
They'd been staring down at the script, deep in concentration, and that jolt automatically dragged their gaze sideways.
And then they saw it.
Woo Jun-seo staring at me—or no… Kang Min-jun.
"You little punk, you wanna keep talking back to your one and only hyung? Fine. Guess I've gotta beat some sense into you today."
"I'm already exhausted enough without you doing this, hyung. Please, just drop it."
"…What?"
I asked again, holding my little brother's gaze.
Was it a hollow laugh, or a sneer? The moment that breath slipped out of my mouth, I could feel him swallow hard.
It was such an absurd situation that the ridiculousness tipped over into actual comedy.
How dare this little—
The laughter turned to anger as naturally as day turns to night, and right behind it something hot and roiling surged up from somewhere deep inside me.
And when I saw him stealing glances at my face, checking my mood, even my rage acquired its own justification.
Is this guy out of his mind?
He knows exactly what he did wrong. He knows I'm going to blow up at him—and he did it anyway, on purpose.
So if I laid into him right now, wouldn't that count as self-defense? No, as long as I didn't kill him, it'd be fine.
While those thoughts sprinted through my head, I found my jaw clenching all on its own, my hand curling into a loose fist and shaking slightly.
My little brother, scanning every one of those movements, finally spoke first.
"That's… I'm sorry. Hyung, I guess I was… kind of on edge today. Sorry. Haha…."
Each word came out ground through gritted teeth, and you could taste the humiliation in every syllable.
And yet through it all he kept trying to smile, and in that effort you could see something pitiful too—the wretchedness of the weak baring their belly to the strong in surrender.
"…PFFT—!"
I burst out laughing.
By the time I'd cackled my way through a long stretch of it, tears had actually welled up in my eyes.
Wiping away the tears that streamed down my face, I gave him a light, affectionate smack on the back of the head.
"Hey, I'm only letting this slide because I'm your hyung, got it? There's no other hyung like me out there."
"Got it…."
"Pull this crap again and I'll kill you, so remember it."
Ah, what an adorable little punk.
Still failing to smother the laughter leaking out of me, I turned away.
And what I found in front of me was—
Ah.
The script.
The moment I came back to myself, that tattered script staring up at me startled me a little, but I recovered my expression fast.
Not again.
When I practiced alone, I could sink in just enough to focus on my intonation and tone.
But whenever I ran a scene opposite another person, like last time or just now, my reason always walked out halfway through.
Is it because I'm not a real actor?
Losing control like this shouldn't be happening. Ugh, this is so damn annoying.
How the hell do other actors put up with this feeling?
Not that I had any grand ambitions of becoming some legendary thespian.
I just wanted to climb high enough to get paid a lot. That was all.
Will I ever get used to this creepy, unsettled feeling if I keep at it?
I was mulling that over when I realized the staff member who was supposed to read the next stage direction had gone quiet.
"…?"
Figuring they'd lost track of the order, I lifted my head.
But everyone was looking straight at me, and I flinched for a second. What the hell?
When I stared back at the staff with a genuinely baffled face, the man finally clutched his script and hurriedly began reading.
"Min-jun, left alone, sighs deeply, his heart in turmoil."
"…Haah."
At those words, Woo Jun-seo beside me let out a sigh half a beat late.
He really was a professional—an actor through and through—because it sounded like a sigh drawn straight from the soul.
And that's episode one wrapped.
So were we moving straight into the episode two reading? Or would PD Jang jump in with feedback mid-scene again, like before?
It was my first script reading, so I didn't know the ropes—but I did know I couldn't afford to look like a total amateur.
Even as I folded my script at the slowest, most unhurried pace and sorted my pens, not a single person opened their mouth. What was going on?
Was my acting that bad just now?
No.
Aside from getting a little too deep into it at one point, everything had come out exactly the way I'd intended.
The stage direction said 'Min-woo strikes Min-jun hard on the back of the head,' but in the run-through I'd mercifully resisted instinct and only faked the blow.
Having confirmed there was nothing wrong on my end, I finally looked over at PD Jang.
Our eyes met instantly.
"Seul-ho-ssi."
"Yes?"
"…Oh, no, it's nothing. Your performances just now were both wonderful. I don't have any feedback, really. Hmm. Shall we take a ten-minute break before episode two?"
Only at PD Jang's words did everyone seem to snap back to their senses and start moving.
Despite calling for a break, PD Jang immediately huddled with the production staff beside him, murmuring about something.
Don't tell me they're trash-talking me.
Honestly, I didn't think I'd given them anything that bad to look at, which made the whole situation that much more baffling.
My screen time was nothing to begin with, so wasn't this more than passable? It wasn't bad enough to make anyone wrinkle their nose, at least.
I tried reading PD Jang's lips to guess what they were discussing, then decided there was no point and stood up. Ah, whatever.
Not my problem.
Even if this turned out to be the worst-case scenario, what would happen—getting cut from the drama? So what.
I got up from my seat, planning to grab a drink from the vending machine.
But with every single step I took, I could feel the eyes on me.
What is it this time?
The stares—so unlike anything I'd received before—left me puzzled.
…Don't tell me.
Were they all shocked because my acting was that good?
The thought crossed my mind for a split second, but one look at Choi Ran's face—the female lead—told me: nope, not even close.
Just curse me out to my face already, would you?
Choi Ran was staring dead at me, the corners of her eyes pinched hard.
No, at that point you'd have to call it glaring, plain and simple.
Unlike the other actors who stole careful, discreet glances, she did exactly as she pleased, and it was incredibly off-putting.
If a guy did that I'd just tell him to quit staring.
But coming from a girl a whole twelve years younger than the original me, there wasn't much I could say.
The second I scurried out into the hallway to escape Choi Ran's gaze, Hyun Jin-gae, who'd been lurking in a corner, sensitively read the mood and slunk out after me.
"Hyung, was that acting not good enough?"
"What? No? I told you already, your acting is the real deal. Good enough to make all those beatings I gave you feel worth it, remember?"
"So what you just saw was about the same as what I've been practicing these past few days?"
"Maybe it's because you were doing it with Jun-seo-ssi, but honestly? I thought it was even better. Why? What's bugging you? Ah, here—drink this first."
Hyun Jin-gae was finally acting like an actual manager.
He held out a takeaway cup, claiming he'd made a special café run during the early part of the reading, and I was almost—almost—moved by his thoroughness and thoughtfulness. Right up until I tasted the drink.
"Ugh, what the hell is thi―"
One sip in, and the taste was so violently revolting that my face betrayed me completely.
I knew it.
So much for acting like a manager. This bastard was trying to kill me.
The horrid taste coating my mouth made it impossible to think any further about Choi Ran's expression or anything else.
Face contorted, I glared at Hyun Jin-gae.
"What is this, poison? Is this how you betray a person?"
"Poison? Are you insane? It's a mint smoothie! I bought it at the café specially because it's your favorite… no, wait, I try to look after you and this is the thanks I get?!"
"Favorite? Favorite of what, exactly? Ha, unbelievable. This is just absurd. There are people who pay money and put this in their mouths on purpose?"
"…You absolute lunatic. It's the thing you always used to order."
Hyun Jin-gae gaped at me, utterly dumbfounded, but all I wanted in that moment was to rip my own tongue out.
I snatched the cash out of Hyun Jin-gae's pocket and dashed for the vending machine.
—Thunk.
The moment I spotted the familiar ion drink label, I fumbled the cap open and flushed out my mouth, over and over.
"Ugh, I hate this so much."
"How does your taste change overnight like that? I remembered you buying it several times, so honestly I expected to be moved by my own thoughtfulness."
"I am so moved I want to grab you by the collar. Get over here."
At my silken summons, Hyun Jin-gae backed away in a panic and vanished.
Left alone in front of the vending machine, rinsing my mouth with the ion drink again and again, I cursed Yoo Seul-ho's name. Ah.
My mouth feels like it's rotting.
It reminded me of a while back—when Hwang Tae-jun, the youngest of my crew, had bought me some new menu item, and I'd nearly thrown up on the spot.
I was no gourmet by any stretch; if something tasted bad, I'd just note that it was bad and eat it without much complaint, most of the time.
But that drink had been genuinely, skin-crawlingly vile. I'd bolted for the bathroom, spat it out, and rinsed my mouth with water half a dozen times.
And when I got back to the office, I found the others had already floored Tae-jun flat on the ground.
I remembered Hwang Tae-jun sniffling, saying he'd only bought it because he thought the boss would like it, and being unable to bring myself to say a word—I'd just told him to get up.
I hadn't touched the stuff since, so I hadn't known, but odds were good that what I'd drunk back then had also been mint—or a menace, rather.
Note to self: distrust everything Yoo Seul-ho's taste buds ever liked.
Still, the ordeal had left my head refreshingly clear.
When I returned to the reading room feeling far better than before, the others had all recovered too—no trace of the tense air from before I'd left.
Nobody was sneaking glances at me anymore, and the mood was downright cozy.
What a relief, I thought, moving toward my seat—when a prickling stare hit me from the front, and my head rose of its own accord.
"…"
What on earth is this girl's problem?
Choi Ran was boring holes into me with exactly the same expression as before.
Unable to endure that intense gaze a second longer, I spoke first.
"Um… did you have something to say to me?"
At my careful question, Choi Ran opened her mouth as if she'd been waiting for exactly that.
"Where did you go?"