Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Homecoming Flavors and First Class
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A famous chef who earned three Michelin stars once said something like this.
"The food I want to eat before I die? It's something I could never have now. The rice Grandma made—that's what I crave."
In my previous life, whenever life got so tough that I could barely breathe, I'd nod along a hundred times over. Nothing in particular stood out, but I missed every single dish my mother had ever made.
If I had to pick one, though, it was her doenjang jjigae—the absolute best. One spoonful, and the deep savoriness and salty tang hit you just right. The umami from our perfectly aged homemade doenjang, plus the fiery kick from the cheongyang peppers...
"Kya~! Mom's doenjang jjigae is the best!"
A heavy silence dropped over the table.
"Uh, Mom? You must be in a good mood today, huh?"
"Don't call me Dad. Makes me feel old all of a sudden. And weren't you just picking at your food lately, saying you had no appetite?"
"Yeah, right. Thought Grandpa came down from the countryside or something. If you're gonna talk like that, don't go around calling me your big sis, got it?"
I'm not Hong Gil-dong or anything... Now I couldn't even call my dad "Dad" or my sister "sis."
Unlike those two, who took it all in stride...
Whoosh.
Mom's face broke into a full-blown smile, blooming like a flower.
"Eat up, son~."
Back in my film department days, with an uncertain future, my own talent limits, and the gap to all those other geniuses, I was always struggling. My nerves were shot, and I'd snap at my family or act all grumpy more often than not.
'Stupid idiot. What do you think you're gonna achieve?'
I'd neglected my most important people because of acting. To think she'd light up so much over something so small... My eyes stung with tears. I polished off two full bowls of rice.
"I'll do the dishes."
"Let an actor's hands get wet? No way."
"Come on, I'll do it."
Sis and Dad eyed me with a mix of worry as I finally nudged Mom aside.
"You feeling okay?"
"...Forget that rhythm thing you mentioned. Let's get you to the hospital first."
Whatever.
Clink, clink.
Even while washing up, the happiness wouldn't quit.
Everything felt great. But life being life, with problems always lurking, I had one little issue of my own.
'Post-meal smoke... I need that post-meal cig so bad...!'
Smokers' ritual: that one after eating. Maybe because the meal was so satisfying—even up to my dying moments, I'd craved this—it hit extra hard.
As a reenactment actor clawing into the mainstream, I'd endured every stress imaginable. No family time, no friends, no hobbies. My only outlets were smokes and booze.
Nicotine especially—I'd chain-smoke nearly a pack a day. That's why my final moments were in a hospital bed.
Luckily, as a college kid this time around, I hadn't touched booze or cigs at all. No withdrawal symptoms nagging my body, even if the craving gnawed at me.
'Hold it together! Hang in there, Yoo Ha-jin!'
I smacked my lips and toughed it out. Coming back to my family's embrace made it feel doable, not too brutal. Still, I needed something to chew on. But I remembered we didn't keep gum or candy around the house.
Rummaging through the fridge, I finally found some dried squid and gnawed on it to soothe my mouth.
After breakfast, Dad and Mom headed off to work. With classes starting in a few days, Sis and I sprawled on the living room couch, stomachs full from the meal, waiting for it to settle.
Sis, deep into her graduation project, had her laptop open for a video call team meeting.
[So, we're locking the script like this?]
"Minor tweaks might pop up during shooting, but yeah, pretty much."
[We've scouted locations inside and around campus.]
"Once the storyboard and continuity are roughed out, let's do a read-through. Oh, and double-check schedules for sure?"
[Roger~.]
[Ugh~ Just gotta crank out this grad project and I'm done with this damn school!]
The meeting ended, leaving the living room quiet. I sank into a serious mood.
'Graduation project... the one that tanks big time? The lead actor they locked in gets a movie offer during pro scenes or something. Or was it that he just up and quits, already eyeing dropout? They were thrilled to snag a working actor as a student, but then it all blows up right before shooting.'
Sis was precious family. I didn't want her dealing with that mess.
I dropped a subtle hint.
"Hey, about the lead—got any backups lined up?"
"It's a grad project, grad project. After four years, you think I'd skip the diploma? Scenario's all developed now—who'd bail? Plus, it's Bang Tae-hyuk for the lead. Senior actually working in the field, and I wrote the script super tough to match his acting. Any other actor couldn't pull it off anyway."
Why it failed was getting clearer. Our school, unlike others, reviewed grad projects twice—once end of spring semester in June for A Team, December for B Team. Both went through internal review, then screening, then film fest submission.
Top film department nationwide meant tons of students. Sis was A Team—had to wrap everything in one semester.
In my past life, the crisis hit right before shooting. Tough to handle, no doubt.
"Life's unpredictable. Prep a bit anyway."
"If no actor, I'll lay out a mat and perform myself?"
"I'm dead serious here."
Sis made an okay sign with her fingers at my earnest tone.
'She's chill and cynical, but sharp at heart. This hint should do it.'
Now, time to worry about my own future.
Like Mom said, our house had two performing arts majors. Both at J University's film department, where the nation's top geniuses gathered.
Difference? Sis retook entrance exams but topped the department. Me? Barely scraped in as last on the waitlist.
'Made school life hell.'
With all the practicals, they avoided teaming with me like the plague. Kids from arts high schools or already famous pre-college. Enduring the cold shoulder was daily life. I'd show up to department events, help out, trying to build connections.
Wasted effort. In my past life, I banked on J University's top output rep for networking. Folks I'd clink glasses with at events, laughing it up—they turned on me cold.
—"Reenactment actor? Even broke, coming out of J U for that? No shame?"
—"You're an embarrassment to our school."
Seniors, juniors, peers—same story. I gritted through it, but couldn't even snag a rookie award before dying.
'Even Sis, the prodigy, quit after her grad film flopped and hit a wall. For a total dunce like me? No way to survive. Round two won't change that. So this life, no forcing fake bonds that don't fit. Not acting anyway, right?'
I was like a lottery ticket that scratched to nothing. No more sucking my family dry. Muttering low so Sis wouldn't hear.
"Double major apps in sophomore year 2nd semester? Classes from junior year? Just coast a year till then."
Grab a business double major diploma, land a normal corporate job.
A few days later, the first day of class dawned. Early March, still chilly. Yet J U's campus buzzed with new semester energy from excited students.
Freshmen gawking wide-eyed, brimming with campus life dreams.
Whatever. I headed to the arts building for film department classes.
The closer I got, the more good-looking folks around—probably film or acting majors. Maybe models or dancers. Entered Geumsol Hall.
Heard the name came from the arts school's founder's pen name, back when it was J U's predecessor.
Facing that old scenery after decades stirred up memories. And stepping into the classroom amped it up. Monday's first period: Acting 1: Improvisation and Expression Techniques.
As a practical class, the room was wide-open—no desks. Walls all mirrors. Freshman class, so students scattered like shrapnel. Probably not buddies yet.
Then someone tapped my back.
"Hey, you retaking this too?"
Turned to see a tall, pretty boy with a perm. Sharp nose and jaw like it could cut glass.
'Choi Min-jun... Right, he's my classmate.'
Kind smile, sociable vibe. Had everything to succeed in showbiz. Yet in my past life, we weren't close.
'Makes sense. That handsome face, the aura—he seemed like a big deal.'
He was, actually. Acting major who sucked at acting. That's why this sophomore was retaking freshman class with me.
Back then, I'd sized him up as dead weight and kept distance.
'Biggest mistake of my past life. Choi Min-jun... Directing was his true calling, not acting.'
How could I know? This sculpture-pretty guy was a genius director, not actor. He didn't realize till later, when his potential exploded. Future Choi Min-jun: director of three 10-million-ticket blockbusters, on track for 30 million.
Anyway, reuniting with a classmate in this freshman-only room after decades—joy hit me hard.
"Hello, everyone~."
Right on cue, the professor walked in.
"Quick OT, then warm-ups."
Freshmen tilting heads.
"Warm-ups?"
"First class today?"
Choi Min-jun whispered to me.
"No way we're actually doing class, right?"
"That's how Prof is."
"Huh?? You know him?? First time seeing him this year."
Past life habits slipped out. I backpedaled.
"He's a famous actor. Tons of personality stories online."
"You remember all that. Model student, huh."
"Anyway, brace yourself. Probably acting in front of everyone today."
"Even so, first class—maybe just explanations and done?"
That's how you end up with epic black history. Frustrated, but I held back.
No plans to act anyway—networks didn't matter. But I didn't want to watch my first classmate in ages crash and burn, so I spoke up again.
"Check that prof's smile—squinty eyes. Gives me the creeps. Gut says 100% Sparta mode. Prep if you don't wanna embarrass yourself in front of freshmen."
"True, squinty types are unpredictable—better safe. But... you don't seem worried?"
"Worried? Why would I be?"
"That confident?"
"Not confidence so much as..."
Embarrassed or not, didn't matter. Wasn't acting anyway. I just shrugged.