Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Acting 1 Begins
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While the electronic attendance check processed, I sat cross-legged and reminisced about the past.
Acting 1: Improvisation and Expression Techniques was a basic freshman acting practice class.
And the professor leading the orientation up front was Nam Jun-young, a working actor who dominated both film and TV fields with his relentless activity.
That squinting man, impossible to read, was utterly unpredictable.
'In my previous life, I dropped my guard after the OT, only for him to dive straight into the lecture. The two underperformers put on quite the show.'
Usually, the first session was just orientation before wrapping up. I'd assumed the same and got burned.
After that, my college life got even tougher. Rumors spread about the two repeat-taking sophomores who bombed in the freshman class.
'Thanks to that, even the underclassmen started looking down on me subtly.'
In a performing arts major packed with practicals and projects, abysmal acting skills were a given ticket to disdain.
"Two lates count as one absence. Four absences means an F, so keep that in mind~ Now, let's lay out the mats and warm up?"
"M-mats?"
"We're really doing class today?"
As the freshmen gawked blankly, I tapped Choi Min-jun's shoulder and nodded toward the mats.
Then we started unrolling them on the floor. One by one, the freshmen followed suit, lending a hand.
Stretching time followed.
"Urghhh."
"Nngh... ughhh."
Groans echoed everywhere. The freshmen had probably partied hard after getting into the Film Department, leaving their bodies stiff as boards.
Even Choi Min-jun, retaking this class with me, was no exception.
He seemed a bit shocked that my prediction hit the mark, stretching until his chest nearly kissed the floor.
"Guhhh... Feels like dying after so long... But you were serious?"
It was one of my most vivid memories, etched sharp even after years.
"He'll probably give short scenarios and have us improv one by one."
"How do you know this so precisely?"
"It's the first lesson listed in the syllabus, isn't it?"
After some time passed, Professor Nam Jun-young slowly spoke up.
"As Film Department students, you'll face countless situations where you have to bare yourselves in front of others.
It's something you'll need to ingrain over the next four years until graduation.
So let's start getting comfortable with it lightly today. What's this class called?"
"Acting 1."
"No, the part after that."
"Ah, Improvisation and Expression Techniques."
"It's a class to cultivate quick adaptability through on-the-spot acting in given scenarios.
It might not click yet, so we'll have everyone try it out directly to see exactly what we learn."
Professor Nam Jun-young scrolled through the attendance app's student list on his phone. Probably by lower class year, alphabetical order?
"Kang Na-hyun. Kang Gyu-seong."
Seemed right.
At the professor's call, a pretty girl and a handsome guy shot their hands up.
I didn't recall their names or faces. They must not have stood out much in the future either.
Their skills were solidly average too. The prof gave a simple scenario, and they improvised accordingly.
As the first pair up, the prompt was easy: elementary school classmates reuniting at university.
"Whoa? Kang Na-hyun, right?!"
"Gyu-seong? How many years since elementary graduation?"
A bit of shaky breath from nerves, but overall decent fundamentals.
'Too formulaic, though. Classic academy-trained style.'
They'd probably dominated their prep school circles without real rivals. At J University, though, they were just average.
"Great job for the first go~ Still, it'd be nicer to see a bit more personal flair instead of such safe choices~."
Even among pebbles, some are prettier. Already, certain freshmen radiated star potential.
"Choi Han-jae. Han Ye-ji. Scenario: quiet conversation between two sitting side-by-side in a general ed class."
Safe, steady improv continued despite the prof's nudge. Then came a familiar name.
Choi Han-jae and Han Ye-ji. Both carved out solid acting careers later on.
True to form, their freshman skills outshone the rest. After a brief prep, they locked into character.
"Hello. I'm Choi Han-jae, Architecture major."
"Hi. Han Ye-ji, East Asian Languages."
"Um... I used polite speech."
"Oh, you prefer formal?"
"Not really..."
"You look like a freshman. Wanna be friends? No one from my major in this class anyway."
In that short time, they infused lines with personality and nailed the scenario.
Especially the subtle thrill of two opposite-sex students coincidentally seated together in gen ed.
That electric vibe? Perfectly captured. The professor nodded approvingly.
And then.
"We have two sophomores? With just three left, we'll pair the freshman with the two upperclassmen. Ham Na-rae. Yoo Ha-jin. Choi Min-jun."
Our turn. We stepped forward at the prof's call.
'No embarrassing myself in front of the freshmen. Gotta put in proper effort—respect for the class and prof.'
I had no intention of going all out. Acting held no lingering attachment anymore.
J University's other notorious Film Department dullard, Choi Min-jun, tilted his head at Yoo Ha-jin beside him.
No wonder—he was the barely-scraping-by additional admission last-place. Min-jun had been second from the bottom in his own supplemental round.
'Why does he look so devoid of fire? More than that, compared to freshman year, his whole vibe's changed.'
Even accounting for two years in the military... Freshman Yoo Ha-jin had been desperation personified.
Despite the snubs from theater high/middle alumni in the department, he'd hustle anywhere called—acting gigs or grunt work.
Yet he never fully mingled, always clutching a script, muttering lines.
Practice bug, unyielding underdog. The cliché everyone roots for.
Spotting him in a freshman class post-enlistment had been a delight.
Now, though, that image tipped toward disappointment.
'Given up? Can't blame him. I'm wavering too.'
No matter how you thrashed between geniuses and top scholars, extras were your ceiling.
"Genius can't beat hard work? Hard workers can't beat those who enjoy it?" Pure nonsense.
Geniuses worked harder. And relished watching hordes of dullards crumble beneath them.
'Still, thanks to his tip, I prepped. No humiliating ourselves in front of the freshmen.'
But that resolve crumbled fast.
"Scenario: campus run-in between school bully perpetrator, victim, and bystander."
Oh no.
With two sophomores, the prof had upped the difficulty for fairness.
Even their freshman partner, Ham Na-rae, was no slouch. She dove in without hesitation.
"Y-Yoo Ha-jin?? Why's he here...?"
Ham Na-rae, genius vice-top in freshman acting. Skilled, but her quick wits shone brighter.
'Perfect~ Snagged the standout victim role for emotional showcase.'
As the lone freshman amid sophomores, she claimed the prime spotlight—handicap justified? Sure, calculated, but more than that.
'I know those two. XX class bottom-feeders.'
People remembered crushing top ranks... and epic flops. These two were unrivaled in the latter.
No skin off her back. Sophomores or not, they were still underachievers.
"Retakers? Missed too many classes?"
"Those seniors are sophomore dead-lasts...! Didn't hear at orientation?"
"Oh~ The ones historically bad at acting in our dept...? One does look kinda glazed over."
"Nah, second-years at least have basics. Practical exam got 'em in, right?"
Overhearing her early cronies, the picture formed.
Fish stinking less still stank, but sophomores nonetheless. Crushing them would impress prof and peers more.
Choi Min-jun's mind blanked.
'A freshman's pulling this...??'
Acting beyond peer level. His fragile mentality cracked.
Oblivious, Yoo Ha-jin watched impassively. His thoughts:
'Ham Na-rae. She's infamous. Was infamous.'
Talent aplenty, but rotten personality doomed her longevity.
I'd overheard her trash-talking me once in a past life. Broadcasting station waiting room, maybe.
—Yoo Ha-jin? That guy? Senior? Pfft, he's just a reenactment actor 'cause he sucks~. Don't call yourself a J Uni alum out there. Total embarrassment.
My lips twitched upward unwittingly. The memory flipped my earlier assessment.
'Past life, her skill crushed me into folding. But... was she always this small? Felt like a giant back then.'
Regardless, I'd landed lead supporting roles in network dramas.
Reenactment actor or not, 30 years of steady refinement. Swallowing a newbie freshman? Cakewalk.
A playful impulse hit. Flashing a leisurely smile, I raised my hand.
"Hey~. Ham Na-rae, right?"
Slow steps closing in. Eye contact signaled Choi Min-jun.
'Yoo Ha-jin signaled me...? Totally different tone from freshman year.
Not given up— he's got poise. How'd he transform into someone else entirely?'
Min-jun's eyes finally sparked. He spoke.
"Damn, same school as these two again? World's tiny. But... Yoo Ha-jin, she's not gonna pull that crap even in college, right?"
As Min-jun hesitated on jumping in, I halted before Ham Na-rae, tapping her shoulder.
"Long time? First time just us two without the others?"
To a bully, past atrocities were mere pranks. Approaching the victim like an old neighborhood pal, utterly dismissive.
The sneer curling my lips? Ham Na-rae instinctively stepped back. Acting, but not just acting.
'Th-they're dead-lasts, right? How...'
She'd bought the aura wholesale. Late retort, but momentum lost.
"Y-You've got the wrong person."
Quick retreating steps after. Pure act, yet her ears flushed crimson.
'Th-this looks like straight-up fleeing!'
The professor watched our improv, his gaze turning grave.
'Last semester's grades on the roster: both D's. Attendance spotty but average, so skill-based scores.
Min-jun's one thing, but Yoo Ha-jin? How's a retaker this good?'
Military service explained two years, sure. But rehearsing there? Implausible.
Even if, no quantum leap in two years.
'Not solo shine. He led, balancing without dominating.
Tamed the overzealous Ham Na-rae. Buoyed the lagging Min-jun.'
Poise pros envied, backed by skill. No undergrad level.
"Can we head back?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Good work."
Yoo Ha-jin bowed politely and returned to his seat. Ham Na-rae and Choi Min-jun trailed.
Defeat etched on her face; Min-jun kept stealing glances at Ha-jin.
Even then, the furrow between Professor Nam Jun-young's brows refused to fade.