Is This Acting?
While crash-bang noises echoed from upstairs, a bespectacled girl approached and stared at me intently.
"You're really pretty. If Pygmalion had seen you, he wouldn't have bothered carving Galatea, whining that he couldn't find the perfect woman."
"Uh... thanks."
What was that? A metaphor straight out of a Dionysian theater?
"You even speak prettily. Eun-seo snapped the second she heard it, though."
"That's 'cause you called her all frothy like Aphrodite!"
Sister?
"Comparing her to the goddess of beauty wasn't enough? She was born from foam, so the foam has to drain before she enters the world, right?"
"No one interprets 'foam-covered' like that!"
"Heh heh heh. Sticking to one skewed meaning—bad attitude for an actress."
No malice, but they seemed like sworn frenemies.
"Eun-seo, care to introduce us?"
If she was Eun-seo's friend and colleague, we'd cross paths often. Better to get an intro from someone who knew me than ask outright. That way, I could expand my... wait, old habits again.
"You threw off the timing with your weird comment. Sujin, this is..."
"Park Ji-young, second-year in Literature. Nice to meet you."
A year ahead. I took her offered hand politely and bowed. "Please take good care of me."
"Too polite. With that face plus manners? Impossible not to fall. New strain of flirting?"
"Who flirts this politely...?"
"Just checking if that face has narrative plausibility. Even AI couldn't sculpt it. How is a human face this... I'm speechless, seriously."
"See? Told you it's a masterpiece."
Eun-seo beamed proudly.
"Masterpiece? Dunno. But I get it now—it's a face that drags down everyone else's level. Eun-seo, you're average by comparison already."
"You never say anything nice."
"It is nice. I'm the trash-tier one here."
Eun-seo as average? No way—even another masterpiece would make her shine. They were overhyping me.
"Mind if I snap a shot of that masterpiece?"
The gorilla from upstairs descended with an ENG camera slung over his shoulder—a pro broadcast rig for roaming shots. Why did they have that at home?
"Kim Tae-hoon, second-year Film. Sorry for startling you earlier. Your face is insanely good—I yelled without thinking."
"He loses it for perfect subjects. But his footage is top-tier, so don't worry."
Subject? Worry?
"Worry about what?"
"You won't look bad. That's what I mean. He's Kim Jang-ho's late-born youngest, despite the looks."
Ah, that explained the camera grab. Son of the master director who'd swept the big three awards—artistic genius with box-office gold, pillar of Chungmuro. His kids all inherited the talent: directors and PDs.
Blood tells, huh.
Still in high school, but if Eun-seo called him a colleague, his skills were legit. Eun-seo the celeb scion; Tae-hoon sunbae, camera fiend.
But why was I the subject? No answer yet. I shot Eun-seo a look demanding explanation.
"Bragged about my 'masterpiece' friend, and he chased me down. Wants to see for himself—what're you gonna do? I'm dying to show off."
"Heard you had an amazing friend, got curious how amazing. Totally worth the hype, right?"
Ji-young sunbae glanced at Tae-hoon sunbae.
"Yeah. Eun-seo was my fave till now. Sujin's taken over."
"Sujin? Fair. World's best subject right here—gotta switch."
They hyped me like a circus act. Not sure the exact dynamic, but their easy vibe screamed long-time pals.
"Oh. Not romantic or anything, don't worry. He only sees people as subjects. Actresses are acting subjects, singers singing ones, models posing ones."
"Speaking of—mind acting a bit? Even just reading lines works."
Tae-hoon sunbae pleaded desperately.
"A-acting?"
Sudden acting? Why?
"Subject's perfect, but static shots feel... lacking. Flat. Gotta capture you lost in something."
Acting majors know acting—show that.
"He won't even pull out his phone for subpar subjects. Coming down with that? You're hooked. Honestly, I wanna see you act on camera too. Standing still is already masterful—what's it like immersed? Haah, insane."
Mad glint in her eye. Tae-hoon obsessed with subjects; Eun-seo with me.
Sudden acting? How do I even...?
Wanting to act was Sujin's thing. No—I am Sujin... If she loved it, so do I...
Between clashing memories, something surfaced. Light rays danced freely in my mind. Doubts melted away; hesitation turned to burning desire.
What is this...?
Sujin's wish surged stronger than ever: I want to act. You can do it. Perfectly, better than anyone. The voice egging on this 36-year-old uncle was soft, aching.
"Overthinking? It's not that hard."
"Yeah. Just say a few lines to the camera—it's already a painting. Why hesitate?"
"I'll film it perfectly. Any lines, please..."
They stared with sparkling eyes. The anticipation, tension, pressure—it thrilled. Their reactions when I delivered? Pure bliss. Thoughts I'd never had as Suho flooded in.
Blending fully with dream-chasing Sujin now.
I turned to Eun-seo. "No clue what to do. Show me first."
Monkey-see-monkey-do works best when lost. Mentors exist for a reason. Mimic half-decently, you're golden.
Treat acting like work.
Sales instincts kicked in flawlessly. My perfect gift from that woman.
"Sure? Hold on."
Eun-seo fetched a script from her room—beat to hell, underlined black, sticky notes everywhere.
"Got it memorized, but you should read it. This scene. Short lines."
Her push turned it into an audition. The two sunbaes watched eagerly.
Reaching for it, something odd caught my eye.
What the...?
A thread unspooled from the script, shimmering in the air. Blue, linked to Eun-seo's body. Leaned closer—it vanished.
"Too close... makes me flutter..."
Looked up: pink blush bloomed on her cheeks.
What was she thinking?
"See something weird in the script? Like a thread."
"Thread? What thread?"
Blank face. The other two too. Just me, then.
Ability to find valuable scripts, draw out acting from them, exclude evil scripts/actors/producers...
Her words echoed. Was that it?
If so, how to use it? Why link script to Eun-seo? Blue mean?
Questions piled up—no one to ask, no way to.
Sigh. Why no message now?
Acting talent via special sim-sang. No cookie-baking popup. Thread too—no hints. Figure it solo.
"Sujin? Problem? You look off."
Eun-seo fretted.
"Sorry, nothing."
No answers pondering. Watch her act first.
*
Script: avalanche traps family in remote cabin. Middle-school daughter arrives alone.
"Ready for a go?"
Eun-seo stood mid-living room—eyes shifted.
Whoa.
From bubbly high-schooler to terrified kid seeking shelter—instant.
"C-cold..."
Opened door, entered. Shivering sold the frigid cabin.
Watching her, I felt the chill.
"Hungry... thirsty..."
Groped everywhere for food. Each futile search: hope to despair, nailed perfectly. Nothing—curled up, collapsed.
Hunger, cold, fear, isolation—raw, visceral. No lines needed.
"Hic... Mom... so scary..."
Tears ended the scene.
I clapped instinctively. Masterclass—too good for solo viewing.
"Over a year off, still flawless. Acting: luxury grade."
Ji-young sunbae thumbs-upped; Tae-hoon monitored, awestruck. Acting or his shot? Unclear.
"Now, our masterpiece's turn?"
Pure curiosity, faces said—not judgment.
Three lines only. Rest with body. Wanted emotions in expressions, gestures—not voice. Why this scene.
Memorized, took her spot. Pictured snowbound girl, shivering outside—grabbed the feeling. World blurred.
Wh-what?
They'd watch. Act natural, refocus—then biting wind howled from all sides.
"C-c-cold... wind, hngh..."
Too cold—huddled. Snowy peaks unfolded. Pitch-black night, blizzard raging; shaky cabin sole refuge.
No more warm room. No three watchers—couldn't see anyway.
Ran for life toward cabin. Yanked door, dove in. Cold, but better than out.
Starving—ransacked everywhere. Under table, drawers, stove, bed—mad scramble. Not a crumb.
Nothing. Slumped to floor. Mom's warm rice flashed: her smiling, ladling seaweed soup.
"Hic-sob... Mom..."
Wailed, called her piteously. Scared, where are you, save me—head down.
Alone here. Terrifying.
"...Jina, Sujina...!"
Someone shook my shoulders, hauled me up. Tear-blurred face sharpened: Eun-seo, horrified.