Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Script Reading Tension
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Who would've thought I'd live to see the day a man stared at me with eyes burning this hot.
Seonwoo felt a twinge of puzzlement deep down.
He hadn't shared much with Park Myungjin yet... Had he gone out of his way to check out his acting?
Those eyes brimmed with fascination.
The problem was just how burdensome that gaze felt.
He couldn't bring himself to meet it head-on, so he ducked his head. That's when Jaewon chuckled softly and patted his shoulder.
"Nervous?"
"...Yeah, a little. Isn't PD Park Myungjin a total big shot?"
"Yep. In the drama world, you could say he's the top dog."
"But is it really okay for total newbies like us to work on the same project?"
"Under normal circumstances? No way."
Jaewon's eyes turned serious.
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime shot. The real deal."
Opportunity.
As Seonwoo mulled over the word, Hyeseong chimed in, his face half-dazed.
"It's not just an opportunity—it's a miracle. I'd have zero regrets retiring if I could work with PD Park Myungjin even once...!"
Jaewon nodded as if he'd been waiting for it.
"Then retire after this project's done."
"Hey, hey, I was just talking big!"
"Kidding."
Jaewon flashed a faint smile at Hyeseong's pout.
"Alright, then... How about we all say hello?"
Im Youngdo clapped to draw everyone's attention.
He turned to Park Myungjin with a cheeky grin.
"As you all probably know, this is YBS's living legend, PD Park Myungjin! He'll be handling production and direction for our drama, One Room. PD, care to say a few words?"
"I'm PD Park Myungjin. Let's make something great together. Looking forward to it."
"Everyone, give it up!"
"Woooaaah!"
Applause erupted from all around.
Seonwoo clapped along, swallowing hard.
Now it feels real.
The script reading site he'd only heard about in stories.
Dozens of staffers watching already.
Plus a dozen or so extras cast for episode one's shoot.
His heart was pounding harder for no good reason.
I can do this... right?
Truth be told, there might not be much reason to stress over a script reading.
It was more about syncing up and exchanging greetings than nailing a perfect performance. Just grasping the character's emotional arc simply would do.
Like a warmup, basically.
Still, slacking off would look ridiculous.
An industry legend was scrutinizing them, after all. And they had seasoned extras joining in too.
He had to show something.
The issue was...
Can I even pull it off?
Seonwoo wasn't feeling all that confident right now.
And for good reason...
The color orb... I still couldn't burst it.
No helping it.
Every time he tried, it crumbled to dust. What was he supposed to do?
Of course, that didn't mean he'd slacked on practice.
He couldn't just skip acting without the color orbs.
Seonwoo even saw it as a golden chance.
I need to learn how to act without them too.
A bit scary, sure. But he could manage.
He'd built solid fundamentals all this time... and learned technical ways to handle emotions through Yeonwoo.
If he applied what he'd learned right, skipping the color orbs should be doable.
He had three days until the reading.
Not a long stretch, but Seonwoo dove deep into "Kim Seonwoo" during it.
To be honest, it wasn't exactly fun.
The character was just so damn bleak.
A literal gray human.
What a depressing guy.
He'd encountered grayish color orbs before.
Like the second brother from the room assignment mission in Three Brothers. Or Seungdo in Confession, with his dark red base smeared in gray.
But an aura that was nothing but monochrome gray? First time.
For it to lack any hue at all...
Does that mean he never gave his heart to anything?
The thought made him feel oddly resentful again.
His own heart was consumed by acting, so why stick him with this gray schlub?
A suicidal wannabe, no less. He'd never even considered offing himself.
Whatever.
Seonwoo pushed the thoughts aside.
The reading was starting right on cue.
"N-No, let me in! Please?!"
Hyungbin kicked it off.
His eyes and voice dripped immersion—no way this was just a script read.
"I can save them! Please, Chief... If I get in... I can save them, I swear!"
Seonwoo watched Hyungbin's reading quietly.
Episode one of One Room flashed back through the ten players' lives before the game sucked them in.
Hyungbin was a firefighter.
A man driven solely by saving lives amid grueling conditions.
Ironic, then, that his color was red.
A yellowish red evoking the flames firefighters battled most.
Seonwoo found himself impressed anew.
Even in a dialogue-only read with no physical acting, the fire encircling Hyungbin burned vividly.
Hyungbin's gotten even sharper.
Sometimes he wondered.
If this show itself was training them.
A place harsher than the real world in some ways—fall even slightly short, and elimination loomed.
Hyungbin already shed much of his amateur edge thanks to it.
But...
"I said no! Damn it, kid, their lives matter, but so does yours! You go in there, you're dead—I can see it plain as day. You want me to send you to your grave?"
"Send me! I'm fine, I tell you!"
"No. I'm telling you no... Hey, Bang Hyungbin! Hyungbin! Don't you move a muscle!"
Real actors were on another level, no doubt.
Seonwoo eyed the middle-aged man trading lines with Hyungbin. Not a household name, but Seonwoo recognized him from a few films—a solid supporting player.
Not a huge role, yet his analysis felt so thorough... Seonwoo could practically smell the smoke at the tip of his nose.
Like facing a real firefighter.
Hyungbin's fiery performance paled in comparison instantly.
...This won't be easy.
Seonwoo broke into a cold sweat.
The acting chops were insane. If every extra here brought that heat...
We'll look like amateurs by comparison.
He could already picture the SNS posts.
—Yeah, stacking up pros against amateurs? No contest.
—Just let the real actors advance lololol
...Can't let that happen.
No feeding the trolls more ammo.
Not that the contestants got steamrolled across the board.
"Putting a patient who doesn't need surgery under the knife? And now you want me lying about it too?"
Minhee as a guilt-ridden orthopedic surgeon,
"What do you want me to do? Huh? Please, Minyoung... What the hell are you expecting from me?!"
Hyeseong as a family man kicked around at home and work,
"Fuckin' piece-of-shit cops..."
Jinwook as a hothead thug jailed for brawling,
"...Eh, whatever happens, happens."
Jaewon as a laid-back boxer.
Their reads held up strong even against pros.
Not viral-level disasters, at least.
Even Park Myungjin nodded inwardly.
Im Youngdo, you lucky bastard.
They weren't fully polished yet, sure.
But the potential shone through.
Raw talent that'd bloom into great actors with time.
Hyeseong especially defied the "prospect" label.
Holding his own against veterans... hell, surpassing them in spots.
Thirty-six, was it...?
Almost pity-inducing.
To have this skill and still fly under the radar at that age.
Im Youngdo's words about actors needing more shots rang truer.
Not everyone shone, though.
Yu Jieun as a prickly third-year student,
Park Munhyeon as a company man "encouraged" to resign after a lifetime of loyalty,
Justin as a club-hopping international student...
They'd survived to TOP 10 for a reason—decent enough reads. But zero star quality to grab you.
As Park Myungjin's interest waned,
"Got questions? I'll answer anything—ask away."
"P-Please... spare me."
"Huh? Spare you?"
Yeonwoo's serial killer turn reignited his eyes in a flash.
"Yes, please... sp-spare..."
"No, I said ask your questions. Questions, not pleas. You think I'm joking? Do I..."
"N-No! Not at all! Nothing funny about—"
"Interrupting me?"
Yeonwoo cocked her head.
A look screaming utter bafflement at her prey.
"Guess it really is funny."
Hallucination?
Or was that raw terror on her co-actor's face bleeding past the performance?
No telling.
But if the guy was genuinely spooked? Totally get it.
Haven't seen a chilling vibe like this in ages.
A female actor nailing full-on psycho, and this raw in a read? Rare breed.
Park Myungjin recalled Im Youngdo's take on Yeonwoo.
—Lee Yeonwoo's solid all around. Polish, details... but lacks that punch, y'know?
No punch?
Park Myungjin frowned.
Look at this. Chills from dialogue alone—what's that if not punch?
He knew why Im Youngdo said it, having watched her other clips.
She wasn't always like this.
Evolution? Or perfect typecasting?
Didn't matter. Unexpected bonus harvest.
Chased by her prey, Yeonwoo gets hit by a car.
She crawls, cursing, until someone brains her with a shovel—end of her read.
Now for the last one... Park Myungjin's top pick.
Kim Seonwoo.
Works-wise, Seonwoo's character felt a tad bland to cap things off.
Especially after a serial killer.
...But he could be the perfect breather.
Seonwoo's role reset the overheated vibe from Yeonwoo's murder while bridging tension into the game proper.
All hinging on Seonwoo's skill.
How realistically, how dimensionally he fleshed out this guy—that'd make or break immersion.
Park Myungjin watched Seonwoo with bated breath.
The man who'd spun gold from silence before... He'd snag some captivating hook here too.
Show me what you've got.
Seonwoo felt Park Myungjin's stare.
Not just his, either. Everyone here eyed him with anticipation. He'd always overdelivered, after all.
Kind of karmic debt now.
He had to deliver.
Prove he stood apart.
That he was worth the watch.
Problem: without bursting the color orb, could he?
No. I will.
Seonwoo's gaze hardened.
Failing to burst "Kim Seonwoo"'s orb didn't mean he couldn't see the color.
He could still watch his acting paint the room—what hue it took, how far and vivid his voice carried.
Just one job now.
Dye everywhere his voice touched.
Completely...
In gray.