Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Do You Dislike Kim Seonwoo?
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“Good work!”
After the script reading wrapped up, Seonwoo went around greeting the supporting actors first.
The actors smiled warmly at him and patted his back.
“Yeah, good job.”
“Don’t take what PD Park Myungjin said too much to heart. Producers are never satisfied with our acting anyway.”
“Ah, no. I’ll step it up.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Let’s give it our all going forward!”
“Yes! Looking forward to working with you!”
Most of the chatter was warm and fuzzy like that.
But even with all their kind words, Seonwoo couldn’t easily smile.
—Do you dislike Kim Seonwoo?
‘…Feels just like getting caught red-handed doing something shady.’
Seonwoo gave a wry smile.
An actor hating his own character—and getting called out on it by the PD. Even he knew that was a real problem.
As a result, the moment script reading ended, he bolted back to the dorm and holed up in his room.
To go through the script one more time.
‘Do I… dislike Kim Seonwoo?’
Honestly, it was feedback he’d never seen coming.
He figured he might catch flak for projection or character breakdown, sure.
But that wasn’t what Park Myungjin had zeroed in on.
Seonwoo disliked Kim Seonwoo.
Only then did it hit him: he’d been overlooking the root cause of why the color bubble wouldn’t pop. He hadn’t even bothered peering into it.
‘…Why won’t it burst?’
It wasn’t a lack of understanding Kim Seonwoo.
If anything, being the model for the guy meant he grasped him faster than any other character he’d ever tackled.
Why Kim Seonwoo thought the way he did, why he acted like that… not a single part felt off or unclear.
And yet, the color bubble refused to burst.
Why?
The answer lay in Park Myungjin’s question.
In those words: Do you dislike Kim Seonwoo?
‘I dislike Kim Seonwoo. His color… getting dyed in that color?’
That’s when the thought clicked.
Knock knock. A rap at the door cut through Seonwoo’s reverie.
“Seonwoo-ssi, you there?”
“…Yeonwoo-ssi?”
Seonwoo opened the door.
Yeonwoo stood there, her face unusually blank.
“I’ve got some troubles weighing on me. Mind listening?”
“Uh… sure. Come in.”
Seonwoo hesitated a beat, then nodded.
He had his own mess to sort, but this was Yeonwoo—not just anyone. She’d helped him out in more ways than he could count.
Besides, her usual sky-blue aura had vanished without a trace.
Meant her irritation was spiking so hard she couldn’t even muster the space for acting.
‘But what’s got her ticked off?’
Seonwoo cocked his head inwardly.
Today, Yeonwoo had been one of the top picks for praise from PD Park Myungjin.
Only Hyeseong had drawn as much acclaim.
In Seonwoo’s eyes, her reading had been downright striking.
Even without nailing the precise angle, that signature psychopath chill—the kind only they could pull off—came through crystal clear.
“Did the psychopath role suit me?”
But apparently, that was exactly what was bugging her.
Seonwoo let out a groan and nodded.
“Your reading today was seriously solid.”
“Did it have a bit more… bite to it?”
Bite.
Seonwoo recalled the critique Imubeom had tossed at Yeonwoo back then.
He’d said she lacked bite—no real personal style to her acting.
It wasn’t odd for her to hear that.
She came off less like drawing out a hidden side of herself and more like inhabiting someone with zero overlap to her at all.
Imitation over true acting, really.
The imitation was so spot-on it masked the awkwardness, but at its core, something essential was missing.
But…
“This time, I felt something there.”
“…Like what?”
“The… character that’s uniquely Yeonwoo-ssi’s?”
“…Yeah, I suppose.”
Yeonwoo’s gaze chilled.
For her, the vanishing oddness during the psychopath read wasn’t purely an acting hiccup.
What was it?
No matter how hard she tried to act, it felt like ironclad proof she could never pass as normal.
Yeonwoo dredged up old memories, face still blank.
Ancient ones. Back when she first dipped into acting.
Before that, folks kept their distance from her.
Put kindly, they were wary; truth was, they disliked and feared her.
—Smile.
Her mother hammered that at her endlessly.
—Even if I’m not happy?
—Yes. Smile when they smile. Don’t when they don’t.
—Why?
—So no one hates you.
Kid her hadn’t gotten it.
What even was the big deal if people hated her?
But now… she thought she understood her mom’s angle.
Terror, probably.
Of her daughter getting cast out by the world.
Or turning into some monster that could never blend in.
The media’s nonstop serial-killer spin on every psychopath hadn’t helped.
Yeonwoo found it ridiculous, honestly.
All psychopaths serial killers?
Had zilch to do with her… and even if it did, what gain was there in offing someone?
Why bother with that idiocy?
Anyway, she’d listen to Mom.
Be as normal as humanly possible.
A kid who blended seamlessly, never sticking out.
Her stunning looks didn’t exactly play ball, though.
But hey, not all downside.
Thanks to those looks…
Her occasional quirks got chalked up as charm.
Let her slip into society okay-ish.
She’d been proud.
Mom had no reason to fret anymore.
She could live just like everyone else. Nothing majorly off.
But,
—Outstanding. Today’s acting… best vibe you’ve ever given me, Yeonwoo-ssi.
“Honestly, today kinda tanked my confidence.”
“Which one?”
“The ‘I fit in this world’ kind?”
Seonwoo gazed at her wordlessly.
Never figured a psychopath for fretting over that. Kinda threw him.
“You fit just fine.”
“…Seonwoo-ssi, socially stunted much? You’re supposed to go, ‘Eh, you’ll manage fine enough.’”
A textbook antisocial case lecturing on fitting in.
Seonwoo shrugged.
“Want me to pat your head and say you’ll scrape by socially?”
“……”
“I could, if that’s the play. But doesn’t feel like what you need right now.”
Yeonwoo eyed him up and down in silence.
Prime research material. Seemed like her mirror image sometimes… other times, not so much.
Seonwoo spoke up.
“But do you have to fit, though?”
“…Saying I shouldn’t?”
“Not everything needs to mesh perfectly.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
Yeonwoo shot him a sulky look.
Seonwoo pressed on, unphased.
“Not fitting can make you pop, y’know. Like a splash of color in a black-and-white flick for punch… You could be that splash, Yeonwoo-ssi.”
Explained Park Myungjin’s rave reviews, didn’t it?
Psychopath, antisocial disorder—Seonwoo couldn’t care less.
What mattered: Yeonwoo made a magnetic actor.
If that got through to her? Who knew.
But she bought in quick, nodding casually.
“Hm. Smart angle. ‘If you don’t fit, own it as your edge,’ right?”
“Yeah. I figure leaning into strengths beats scrubbing out flaws.”
“Solid advice, surprisingly.”
Yeonwoo was straight-up impressed.
“‘Embrace yourself’? First time hearing that one.”
“……”
He hadn’t meant it that profound.
Whatever—if it lightened her load, cool.
Still,
‘Embrace yourself…’
Felt like advice he needed too, not just her.
Seonwoo’s eyes dimmed right then.
Yeonwoo scratched her cheek.
“But what was different? What clicked for her to clap like that at my read?”
“Natural flow… probably. Zero disconnect.”
“Disconnect?”
“That ‘this actor’s playing this role’ vibe. When you did it, Yeonwoo-ssi, you were straight-up…”
A living, breathing serial killer.
Too brutal to spit out, so he clamped it. Yeonwoo pouted.
“You were gonna drop something nasty on me again, weren’t you?”
“…Nah.”
“But why the funeral face since earlier?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Looking all mopey.”
Not that mopey.
Seonwoo scratched his head.
“I caught heat too, y’know.”
“Heat? …Oh, that.”
Yeonwoo nodded like it just clicked.
“Kinda blindsided me.”
“Me getting chewed out?”
“Nah. The gloomy vibe suiting you.”
She said it offhand.
“Like someone who’s trudged through life like that forever.”
“Haha…”
Seonwoo laughed it off, at a loss.
Admitting he had lived that way? Mortifying.
He pivoted smoothly.
“What’d it look like from your end, Yeonwoo-ssi? Did my… not liking Kim Seonwoo show?”
“Yep.”
Yeonwoo nodded on cue.
“That threw me too. Your acting before? Felt like you became the guy. No ‘performing’ sense. But…”
“This time, it screamed ‘acting.’”
“Yeah. Kinda polar opposites.”
“Opposites?”
“I dive too deep into the psycho—that’s my snag. You? Can’t dive in—that’s yours.”
Yeonwoo fixed her clear eyes on him.
Then tilted her head, puzzled.
“Why the gap, though? Both roles based on us.”
“…Maybe that’s it? You’ve never lived as ‘you,’ so it clicked fresh…”
“While you’re burned out on living as ‘you’?”
“……”
“Eh, tracks. Worry sorted! Heading out. Night!”
Yeonwoo bailed on the quiet Seonwoo.
He didn’t stop her.
Her parting shot had rocked him hard.
Burned out on living as himself…
No way he’d claim that ashy mess as him.
But it clicked too: that vibe must’ve leaked to Park Myungjin.
‘So that’s it.’
Seonwoo got it at last.
‘…I’m sick of myself. For real.’
His eyes sank.
Now he knew why the color bubble wouldn’t burst.
Wasn’t unburst-able. He’d refused to burst it.
Hated reliving that headspace.
Hated drowning in that drab hue again.
Seonwoo pulled up Kim Seonwoo’s color bubble.
The gray one.
Still hated the shade.
Dyeing himself in it… soured his gut just thinking.
But he had to.
Why?
‘Cause he dove into acting for the riot of colors out there.
What was to like about that washed-out nothing? Why bother dyeing into it?
Beats him.
One truth Seonwoo knew: you can’t always chase whims.
To grab what you want, do what you want… sometimes swallow the crap you hate.
Seonwoo thrust his fist at the color bubble…
and clenched.
The color bubble…
burst.