The Moment of Collapse
Ever since his ability to perceive acting had matured, there was one person Sunwoo had come to view in a completely new light. That person was Hyeseong.
Even before, whenever he acted with Hyeseong, the Color Bubbles would manifest with an almost unnatural clarity. Back then, he had simply assumed they just had great chemistry. But now, Sunwoo finally understood the reason.
'He’s creating space for emotions to flow.'
Hyeseong didn't just radiate his own emotions. By deliberately stimulating and guiding the emotions of his partner, he ensured that the scene’s emotional current moved in the most ideal direction. He was carving out a canvas for the other person to paint on.
For the current Sunwoo, that was a level of mastery he couldn't even dream of attempting. All Sunwoo could do right now was respond more actively to his partner’s emotions to create a decent picture. He wasn't yet capable of actively guiding the other person's performance.
"You're incredible, Hyung."
In the end, Sunwoo couldn't hold back his admiration. The more he learned about acting, the more he realized how deep the abyss truly was. He had thought he’d narrowed the gap with Hyeseong, but now, it felt as if the distance had only grown.
"Suddenly?"
"...I'm just starting to see it now. How much you're actually observing while you act."
"Hey, stop it. You're embarrassing me."
Hyeseong covered his mouth with a shy laugh and waved his hand dismissively. Then, he looked at Sunwoo with a calm, steady smile.
"But, you can already feel that? You shouldn't be able to pick up on things like that with your current experience."
"...It just sort of happened."
"Hmm."
Hyeseong nodded, his expression turning serious.
"If I may offer a word of caution, you don't necessarily have to act like me."
"...Are you telling me not to rush?"
"No, I mean even if you can act like me, you don't have to. I decided to become an actor who prioritizes the flow of the work over myself, but not every actor is like that. Just look at Doyoung."
Sunwoo let out a low hum. He couldn't deny that. Acting with Doyoung never felt as comfortable as it did with Hyeseong. If anything, just trying to maintain his own immersion was a struggle. Yet, despite that, Doyoung was a better actor than anyone Sunwoo had ever seen.
"It's a style," Hyeseong continued.
"A style..."
"Exactly. Just because you can see the flow of the work doesn't mean you have to be the kind of actor who prioritizes it above all else. In fact... focusing entirely on showing your own color, regardless of the work's flow, can be a valid path too."
"Then why did you choose that method, Sunbae?"
"There's no particularly cool reason for it."
Hyeseong scratched his head with an embarrassed look.
"I just wanted to catch the directors' eyes. Unless you're a lead, directors don't like it when you're too assertive. They prefer someone who knows how to adapt to the flow of the project."
"...Ah."
Sunwoo nodded. Having spent a month or two auditioning before I Am an Actor, he understood the desperation that had led Hyeseong to master this style. Sunwoo had only suffered for a short time, but Hyeseong had spent nearly twenty years living like that.
How difficult those years must have been. Sunwoo didn't even dare to imagine.
"...That time is over now, though."
"I suppose so, right? I hope it is."
"Of course it is. If directors leave someone as talented as you alone, they must be blind."
"Hahaha, thank you for saying that."
Hyeseong laughed and patted Sunwoo on the shoulder.
"Anyway, I hope you don't decide on a specific way to act just yet. There is no right answer in acting. That's what all the seniors always say."
"...Yes. I'll keep that in mind."
Sunwoo took Hyeseong's advice to heart. If he focused too much on the flow of the work, he might lose focus on himself. It was definitely a problem that required careful thought.
'Can't I have both at the same time?'
It wouldn't be easy. It was like trying to cook something that was both clean and intensely flavorful at the same time. But it wasn't a question he needed to answer immediately.
After all, he wasn't feeling any major problems because of it right now.
It was thanks to Kim Sunwoo’s character. Since the character of Kim Sunwoo was someone who observed others and was heavily influenced by their actions, resonating with their colors didn't mean he was failing to show his own. In fact, that feeling of being caught in the middle was very much like Kim Sunwoo.
Of course, if there was one thing he felt was lacking:
'I want to see him truly explode.'
Within the work, all sorts of colors were constantly exploding and scattering, but Sunwoo rarely had the chance to paint Kim Sunwoo’s own color properly. However, he finally had his first real opportunity to vent genuine emotion in Episode 3: the scene of Yoo Jieun’s death.
Kim Sunwoo rushes to her room after hearing the broadcast that Yoo Jieun has died. When he opens the door, he is met with the sight of her corpse—she had tried to crawl out to escape, only to have her breath cut short. And in that moment, the sense of loss and sorrow Kim Sunwoo feels is beyond words.
Faced with that outpouring of emotion... Kim Sunwoo realizes he is alive, yet he feels disgusted by himself and collapses.
Kim Sunwoo: "...Why are you doing this? Get up. You said you wanted to take the college entrance exam, go to university... and fall in love. So get up."
Naturally, Yoo Jieun does not respond. Watching her, Kim Sunwoo finally realizes how ignorant he had been. He realizes how beautiful life is, and how foolish he was to try and throw it all away... and he crumbles.
'This is the key point.'
Sunwoo’s eyes burned with intensity. Until now, the character of Kim Sunwoo had been polarizing. Between his attempt to end his life and his learning to appreciate it through the game of Room, he was a strange figure that made people wonder, "What kind of guy is that?" But Jieun’s death would finally be the catalyst that awakened Kim Sunwoo. He wanted to live. That ordinary desire, which most people take for granted... it would finally take root in Kim Sunwoo’s heart.
And to show that, Kim Sunwoo had to completely collapse in this scene. To the point where any change that followed would feel perfectly natural.
Perhaps this was why Hyeseong had given him that advice. At least for this scene, Kim Sunwoo had to focus entirely on himself.
'You don't have to worry about that.'
Ever since he first encountered the character of Kim Sunwoo, Sunwoo had been waiting for this moment. This was what would finally make Kim Sunwoo feel truly alive. And finally, the filming for that scene was about to begin. Sunwoo turned to Jieun.
"Jieun-ah."
"Yes?"
"Die well. I'm counting on you."
It was a request that might have sounded absurd, but Jieun smiled boldly.
"Yes. I'll die as horribly as possible, so you better cry your eyes out, Oppa."
"Leave it to me."
...So, was the filming a success?
You'll have to watch the broadcast to find out.
He checks his appearance.
The collar of his dress shirt is crisp from a proper ironing. — A
His face looks a bit dull despite the tone-up cream. That must be the lingering effect of last night’s drinking session. — B
His hair, cut a little over ten days ago, is on the border between messy and neat. — A-... No, B+.
Total score: A- to B+.
'Not bad.'
The man adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses with a satisfied look and tightened his tie. Where was he going, dressed to the nines like this?
It was the "Movie Room" in his house.
Twenty-six surround-sound speakers and a 100-inch TV. A recliner chair he’d chosen after visiting every single furniture store in Jongno. And... soundproofing panels covering the walls and floor.
Thanks to this, the man had never received a single complaint from his neighbors, even when he set the volume to cinema levels. It was the ultimate fortress that any film enthusiast would envy.
This was the base of operations for "Nugulnaegul," a channel famous on YouTube for reviewing everything from films to dramas.
And the work that the man, "Nugulnaegul," intended to watch today was the hottest topic on the internet: Room.
Requests for a review of Room were pouring in from subscribers constantly. If he had wanted to, he could have uploaded a review video ages ago. Given the buzz surrounding Room, that might have been the smart move.
But he couldn't. Episode 1 of Room had felt like a mere introduction of "Look at these people!", and Episode 2 felt like "Now it's starting!"
'Episode 3 should be different.'
Nugulnaegul’s expression turned serious. Based on what he had seen so far, his impression was this:
A genius's prank.
Yes. Room was truly like a prank of a work. The structure of eliminating characters based on the results of variety show competitions, the way the plot flowed aimlessly as an ensemble piece without a clear protagonist—it was all chaotic.
And the most impressive part of it all was the presence of "Kim Sunwoo."
Putting someone who doesn't want to live into a survival game. The moment he saw that setup, Nugulnaegul realized who the writer wanted to push as the lead. Kim Sunwoo was, in himself, the core message of the work.
What kind of changes would he undergo, having once considered life and death worthless? That transformation itself would become the most important message of Room.
'...What if he dies early?'
That was a concern. This wasn't a work where the writer could decide the order of elimination. Was it really okay to give one character so much weight in such a structure? Of course, he didn't think Sunwoo would be eliminated anytime soon.
'He's good.'
Kim Sunwoo. Regardless of the importance of the role, he was the actor Nugulnaegul was watching with the most interest right now. It was because people were so fixated on him.
'Being a topic of conversation means you have star power.'
He understood why people liked him. Looks, acting ability, even his academic background—he lacked nothing. He even had the "genius narrative" of showing such performance despite having just started acting... the setting was almost unreal.
If things continued this way, Kim Sunwoo would likely become a face seen in many works.
'Of course, he's still lacking.'
He knew he had talent. He knew he had the charm to capture people's attention. But that wasn't enough. There were countless "flash-in-the-pan" stars who had all those conditions but failed to make it and were forgotten.
To prove he was different... to prove he had the qualities to become a true star, he needed "one big hit."
Could Sunwoo show that one hit? At least until now, that hadn't been visible. Sunwoo’s acting was consistently good and deep, but he didn't quite feel that sense of being completely captivated.
Of course, that was partly the fault of the role. Aside from narrative importance, Kim Sunwoo hadn't had a scene that would instantly catch a viewer's eye. Though, considering that, he was already exerting quite a strong presence.
'...It should show in Episode 3.'
In the end, that was the crux of the matter. For both Kim Sunwoo and Room, Episode 3 was the turning point where they had to show something.
Did he think they could show something? Honestly, he didn't have high expectations. Even if the opponent was Ryu, he doubted there was a limit to the artistic quality and fun that could be extracted from such an experimental work... and...
'Even if he has a proper script, can Kim Sunwoo pull it off?'
He was skeptical about that part, too. He acknowledged that Sunwoo had shown good acting so far. But there were many actors who could do that. For Episode 3 to explode everything that had been built up so far... the "Kim Sunwoo" at the center had to support it with acting of that caliber. Did Kim Sunwoo have that capacity?
He couldn't answer that yet. At least Sunwoo had never failed to digest a given script. But if there was something massive prepared to elevate this work to the ranks of a "masterpiece," could he handle it? If there wasn't such a great scene, that would be a disappointment in itself. It would mean Room failed to take flight when it needed to.
Well, he would have to wait and see.
Nugulnaegul stared at the screen.
And an hour later,
"...Huh."
Nugulnaegul was staring blankly at the screen with an incredulous expression. The corners of his mouth began to curl upward.
...Look at this kid?