Chapter 2
Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: The Best Self-Portrait
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“...What is this?”
Seonwoo looked down at his body with a bewildered expression.
His entire body was dyed purple. His clothes, his skin—everything without exception.
But oddly enough, Seonwoo remained remarkably calm.
It was because he instinctively understood what this color signified.
The color of the character.
The Painter.
The sole character in this work, The Best Self-Portrait.
The plot was simple.
The Painter gazes into a mirror and draws a self-portrait.
The first self-portrait he creates looks astonishingly just like him, but dissatisfied with something, he tweaks the tip of the nose.
He seems briefly satisfied, only to adjust the eyes next, shave down the jawline, fix the ears... and eventually tears the painting to shreds and starts over.
After countless self-portraits are ripped apart like this, the final one that emerges is of someone completely different from himself.
The film ends with the Painter smiling at it.
Purple was the color that captured the Painter's state of mind.
“...Emotions are surging in.”
The Painter's purple hue, painted over him, seeped into all his senses.
It felt as though the Painter's longing and obsession with beauty were etching themselves into his soul.
Everything his gaze touched now looked different from before.
The beautiful and ugly aspects of the world—things he hadn't even noticed—now grated on him relentlessly.
An overwhelming stimulation that made his brain tingle.
“...Kim Seonwoo!”
“Huh? What?”
It was Seonjun's voice that snapped him out of it.
Seonjun was shaking Seonwoo's shoulder with a puzzled look.
“Why are you spacing out like this? I called you several times from right beside you.”
“You called me?”
He hadn't heard.
Was it because he'd been overwhelmed by the Painter's mindset?
Seonwoo glanced down at his hand. The body that had been drenched in purple moments ago was now back to normal.
Somehow... it felt disappointing.
That sensation just now had been incredibly thrilling.
“...You're still out of it. Was my script that captivating?”
Misinterpreting it, Seonjun gave Seonwoo a strange look.
It might be fun to disappoint him with that expression, but unfortunately, Seonwoo was the type to give credit where it was due.
“Yeah. It was interesting. Impressive, even.”
“Heh... Good. Do you get what I was trying to express?”
“Yeah. The title says it all. ‘The Best Self-Portrait.’ It fits the story perfectly.”
Seonwoo recalled the Painter's color he'd just felt.
His heart, worshiping beauty... it was a bit peculiar, but pure.
Like it was alive, somehow.
But what was this, exactly?
Why had something like this suddenly happened?
He had no idea. Perhaps still rattled by the unimaginable stimulation, his heart was pounding.
Seonwoo took slow, deep breaths to calm his racing chest.
Seonjun tilted his head, watching him.
“So, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Can you act it?”
The moment he heard that question.
The instant he became conscious of acting... another bubble floated before Seonwoo's eyes.
The Painter's bubble.
Seeing it, Seonwoo nodded without thinking.
“...I think I can.”
“Cooler than I expected.”
Seonjun looked at him, surprised.
He'd thrown a fit about not wanting to act at first, so had something changed his mind?
“Well, better than chickening out. Alright, let's roll with it.”
With that, he began setting up the camera.
The studio they'd rented for today was an actual art studio in operation.
No separate staff.
Director of photography: Kim Seonjun.
Art director: Kim Seonjun.
Lighting director: Kim Seonjun.
Writer: Kim Seonjun.
Everything in this film was produced by Seonjun.
It was a relief for Seonwoo.
He'd have been embarrassed with others watching.
Of course, acting in front of Seonjun wouldn't exactly be pleasant either, but it didn't bother him much.
His mouth was already going dry at the thought of encountering the Painter's color again.
“...Hey.”
The Painter's gaze throughout the piece was fixed on only two things.
The mirror. And the portrait.
What had he seen in them?
How had he ended up painting a portrait that wasn't himself?
He felt like he understood, yet something nagged at him...
“Kim Seonwoo!”
“Huh? Me?”
“Who else is here? What are you thinking about now?”
“Nothing, just wondering what the Painter liked and disliked so much...”
“You were thinking that deeply?”
Seonjun narrowed his eyes.
Then he shook his head.
“...Never mind. Lighting's set. Let's do a camera test first. Sit down.”
“Okay.”
Seonwoo sat before the canvas.
It wasn't a canvas with his portrait painted on it... just a chroma key cloth draped over one.
Seonjun would draw the portrait himself later and overlay it with CG.
What a guy with talents for useless things.
“No cue signs. Just start whenever you're ready.”
“...Got it.”
Seonwoo nodded awkwardly.
First time acting in his life.
But upon reflection, acting wasn't entirely new.
The interviews he did every day were acting, after all.
The masks he wore in daily life when meeting people were acting too.
What if he just thought of this as more of the same?
Just another act he did every day.
As he steadied himself like that, the familiar purple bubble swayed before his eyes.
As if asking him.
Shall I help?
No reason to refuse.
He popped the bubble. And as if waiting, the Painter's purple dyed Seonwoo... and in that instant, he realized.
All he had to do was surrender his body to the Painter's emotions.
He picked up the brush.
Drew himself. That somewhere-deficient, ugly, lacking self.
Each time he looked at the portrait he'd drawn, the Painter... Seonwoo grew frustrated.
Irritation seeped into his brushstrokes, his chest filling with stifled rage.
It had to get better. Had to look better.
More, more, more...!
He didn't remember much after that.
Too immersed, perhaps. He'd even forgotten he was acting.
When he came to, crumpled papers littered the space before Seonwoo.
And Seonjun's face looked even more crumpled than they were.
“...What are you?”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ When he'd asked Seonwoo to act, Seonjun hadn't really expected much.
Seonwoo wasn't an actor to begin with.
Expecting great performance from him would be the weird part.
If it weren't a role without a single line, he wouldn't have asked Seonwoo at all.
The one reason he'd cast Seonwoo as the actor: his looks.
You needed a basically handsome face for dissatisfaction with one's own self-portrait to carry meaning.
But the moment Seonwoo took the script, something Seonjun hadn't anticipated happened.
He didn't respond no matter how many times Seonjun called him.
A common sight on set. Sometimes actors get so immersed in the script they block out the world.
But that was for real actors, ones with tremendous focus.
Not something you'd expect from Seonwoo with zero experience.
Does this guy have talent for acting? The thought crossed his mind, but Seonjun shook it off.
He's always been smart since he was a kid. Probably just good concentration. That's what he told himself.
But the moment Seonwoo's acting began...
Seonjun realized his initial feeling wasn't a fluke.
“...Did I know he could make that expression?”
The air had changed.
It didn't even feel like Seonwoo anymore. The guy who'd always been monotone and drab... suddenly bloomed with vibrant life.
Like the Painter he'd imagined while writing the script had appeared before him.
The Painter draws.
Frowns as if dissatisfied with something, then revises the painting.
Nods in satisfaction, only to cross his arms again upon spotting another flaw.
Revises again.
Nothing special about the actions.
But even the same actions shift entirely based on the expression, the gaze.
Seonjun felt like Seonwoo the person had vanished.
As if sitting there wasn't Seonwoo, but someone else named “the Painter.”
Eventually, Seonjun's mouth hung open.
“Is this... even possible?”
Today's his first time acting.
How could he express like this?
The air around Seonwoo seemed to warp.
Like he was creating his own world... becoming a character within it.
But the expressiveness wasn't the only impressive part.
“This is Kim Seonwoo's energy?”
Actors are judged most by one quality.
The innate energy they carry.
Seonwoo's energy was exploding right now.
He draws.
Revises, tears it to shreds.
Draws again.
Honestly, the script wasn't built for explosive acting.
But look at Seonwoo now.
That presence filling the camera frame.
...This is the kid's first time acting?
His little brother, Kim Seonwoo?
And what shocked Seonjun most... was Seonwoo's final scene.
The Painter finishing the last portrait and smiling at the canvas.
The script described it simply:
(The Painter smiles at the canvas.)
No further details. No specifics on the smile.
But right now, Seonwoo...
“...What is that smile?”
He wore the most complex smile imaginable.
Satisfied, yet unsatisfied.
Possessing everything, perhaps having lost it all.
A smile so intricate and subtle he couldn't describe it, even seeing it with his own eyes.
“...What are you?”
Seonjun forgot to call cut.
Unaware of the performance he'd just given, Seonwoo stared back blankly.
A whirlwind of words swirled in Seonjun's head.
What are you. How did you act like that. Do you even know how your acting was just now...
But what came out of Seonjun's mouth was:
“Why'd you smile like that?”
“...Huh? Like what?”
Seonwoo tilted his head blankly.
Realizing his explanation was lacking, Seonjun elaborated.
“The script's last part just says the Painter smiles.”
“Yeah.”
“So why that smile? It wasn't just any smile.”
“Hmm...”
Seonwoo hesitated before answering.
“If I were the Painter... it felt right?”
He scratched his head.
As if it wasn't worth overthinking, like it was obvious...
“It just... happened.”
Seonjun swallowed a hollow laugh.
Just. Did he know how much effort other actors put in to grasp and embody that “just”?
But by now, it was clear.
Unbelievable expressiveness. Unbelievable energy.
“Act, you.”
“...Huh?”
He never imagined saying this, but...
“You're a genius.”
His little brother was a genius.