Chapter 49
Chapter 49
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: The Brink of Explosion
-----------------------------------------------------------------
And the appeal of suppressing emotions went far beyond that.
Imagine this.
A person tied up, with a massive rock dangling from a rope right above them. A rock plenty big enough to crush them to death if it fell.
What would ramp up the tension for the audience even more in that moment?
The rope slowly fraying and snapping thread by thread?
Or just the rock dropping straight down?
Obviously, the former.
It's that razor-edge precariousness—the sense that something could happen any second—that grips you, sweat beading in your palms.
"What makes it so easy for you? Huh? Why do you always... give up so damn easily?"
From that angle, Kwon Sori crumbling under Seonwoo's performance had actually helped him out.
If not for that, he never would've thought to act this way.
Seonwoo had hung a boulder from that rope.
A boulder that could flatten Kwon Sori at any moment.
And beneath it, Kwon Sori was...
'...'
barely holding back the goosebumps prickling across her entire body.
Sure, now that Seonwoo was holding back his emotions, didn't that make him a bit more manageable?
No. If anything, it made him scarier.
It felt like facing a predator right before it lunged—coiled in utter silence.
"Have you ever actually tried your best? Ever stuck it out to the end?"
"... ."
"Yeah. You haven't. But what? It's tough? You think you're in any position to say that?"
"To the end?"
But she couldn't just cower forever.
Win or lose, she had to face him now.
Kwon Sori desperately dragged up every ounce of emotion she had.
"For me... every single day was the end."
As she delivered her final line, Kwon Sori felt her heart pounding inside her chest.
Not because she had to show that suicidal leap next.
It was because she knew exactly what was waiting for her in that instant.
Seonwoo had urged her when he switched up his acting style.
—Just once.
Yeah. Just once.
—Hold out for just one time.
What did that mean?
She was about to find out.
Kwon Sori extended her foot backward.
The moment of leaping off the rooftop.
And that was when it happened.
"Junhee! Park Junhee———!"
Seonwoo finally unleashed all the emotions he'd bottled up and crushed down in one explosive burst.
Crackle!
Was this what getting electrocuted felt like?
Her veins constricting in an instant all over her body. Rage, despair, terror—all packed into Seonwoo's voice, swallowing her whole.
The lightning that had clung to Seonwoo now surged toward Kwon Sori like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
Even amid that endless tidal wave of emotion, Kwon Sori held her immersion—thanks solely to the grueling rehearsals she'd endured just to survive this scene.
And as Seonwoo watched Kwon Sori vanish over the railing...
"Ah... ahhh... N-no. Nooo......"
he was utterly devoured by the emotions he'd piled up.
His face flushed beet red, eyes bloodshot. Tears streaming down unchecked, his unfocused gaze fixed only on the spot where Kwon Sori had disappeared—like a man completely broken.
"Why... why...... Whyyyyyy———!"
The faint of heart squeezed their eyes shut right then.
Just watching felt like it carved a wound into your soul.
Even knowing it was acting, your heart throbbed.
You couldn't breathe.
So when the studio lights went out...
"... Gasp...... Haaa......"
"Ugh......"
"Huuuuuh......"
"Kuh, cough, cough!"
the audience filled the air not with applause or cheers, but with ragged breaths held too long and hacking coughs.
And even after the lights came back up and Yumi grabbed the mic, it stayed that way.
"... Hoo."
Yumi slowly exhaled.
As if she'd been holding her breath too.
Only after a long pause did she open her mouth, wearing an incredulous expression.
"Seonwoo, where'd you learn to act like that?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Are these two gonna be okay?
When Yumi first saw the Seonwoo-Kwon Sori pairing, her worries had outweighed her expectations.
Honestly, it was all because of Kwon Sori.
Her performance in the last mission was still fresh in mind.
Someone totally incompatible with teamwork.
That was the judges' image of Kwon Sori.
Sure, once they hit the stage, there didn't seem to be any major friction between them... but that only made Yumi more worried.
Kwon Sori looking that satisfied... what if Seonwoo was just bending over backward for her in every way?
And when the two actually started acting, Yumi briefly thought her fears had come true.
Seonwoo's performance was way too subdued.
Fine if it was a quiet scene.
But this was his sister attempting suicide. And he was going that soft?
The Seonwoo she knew wouldn't have held back.
He would have unleashed emotions so intense they would stain the stage itself—him included.
But he didn't.
'...Is he matching her?'
Holding back to what she could handle?
If so, disappointment. There are times to brake and times not to.
This wasn't a time to brake.
No matter if his partner couldn't keep up, he needed to let it rip.
But Yumi's disappointment didn't last.
She realized Seonwoo's acting wasn't ordinary at all.
Trembling fingertips, gaze wandering aimlessly in the air...
This wasn't just dialing back the emotion.
No way...
"This kid... he's totally nuts."
Sung Junil muttered beside her.
And only then did Yumi realize Seonwoo wasn't just braking.
'He's flooring the gas... too?'
Yeah.
Seonwoo wasn't just braking.
More precisely, he was slamming the brake to the floor while flooring the accelerator too.
Like a zero-to-hundred test run.
Those crushed-down emotions churned visibly in his bowed profile, ready to erupt any second.
And that's when Yumi got it—his intent.
'No way...'
Keep building the emotions... while suppressing them the whole time?
Then Kwon Sori had to act opposite something that could blow at any moment.
But in a way, this might be the right answer.
Easier to handle one massive hit than constant waves.
And it made the performance even more gripping.
Wondering when that brake would release—waiting for that one moment.
Every line Seonwoo spat, every twitch of his body—the judges clenched their fists tighter.
And then,
"Junhee! Park Junhee———!"
when Seonwoo finally roared off with a guttural blast, the judges... no, everyone there felt a spine-tingling jolt like an electric shock.
An emotional explosion that could've shattered the stage.
Just seeing and hearing it drilled straight into their brains...
She could say it with certainty.
This was the most explosive performance of Seonwoo's they'd ever seen.
Kwon Sori's words suddenly made sense.
Yeah. With energy like that, no wonder it's hard to handle.
Even seasoned pros would struggle against acting like this.
And Yumi was no exception.
She wasn't even his scene partner—just watching from afar—and she still needed deep breaths before grabbing the mic.
That was how deep Seonwoo's aftertaste lingered.
"Seonwoo, where'd you learn to act like that?"
"...Uh, nowhere in particular."
"Ah, whatever. Wasn't really asking for the answer."
Yumi chuckled and waved it off.
Then her gaze turned serious.
"Seonwoo, your emotions have grown, haven't they?"
Your emotions have grown.
Might sound odd. But Seonwoo got it right away.
The scale of emotions he could wield had expanded.
"Yeah. Feels like it."
"...It's wild, right? Never heard of an actor growing this fast. Junil, you ever seen one?"
"Nope. Probably no one has."
"But more than that, what really grabs me is... how you play with those emotions."
Yumi shook her head, still baffled even thinking back.
"Exploding emotions isn't that hard. But building tension with ones on the verge of exploding the whole time? That's a whole different level. Seonwoo, how'd you even think to act like that?"
"Hm......"
Seonwoo hesitated.
The real reason? 'Because Kwon Sori couldn't handle my acting.'
Without that, he'd have unleashed everything from the start.
But saying it like that might come off as putting her down.
With all the noise about him being a genius or faking his experience, he couldn't afford arrogant vibes.
"Just thought it'd be fun this way."
That was his simple answer in the end.
But hearing it, Yumi was floored.
'Just?'
Seonwoo always had this habit of downplaying everything.
Even when nailing points others agonized over forever, his response was always casual.
Just.
Did what felt right.
It happened while acting.
The funny part? It never felt like bragging.
Yumi let out a hollow laugh.
"...Seonwoo, you seen the online reactions?"
"You mean about my experience?"
"Yeah. Everyone's saying six months doesn't add up. What do you think?"
"Grateful for it."
"Grateful?"
"Means they like my acting that much."
"... ."
Mental fortitude of steel, or just a bit off-kilter?
Yumi sighed.
"Honestly, I get where they're coming from. Even I can't believe this is six months' worth of skill. But no doubts here... because I've watched you grow in real time."
Through preliminaries and three rounds of finals, Seonwoo had grown steadily.
Started as someone whose acting just caught your eye.
Now? Impossible to look away.
And all in under two months.
That growth rate in such a short time.
What kind of actor would he be in one year, two, ten?
'Chungmuro's about to get flipped upside down soon.'
Yumi could already picture it.
Directors scrambling everywhere for his contact.
That was why.
"I shouldn't say this lightly, but... I can't hold it in."
Yumi's eyes sparkled.
"Seonwoo, you still don't have an agency, right?"