Chapter 16: The Aquarium and the Sea (1)
Chapter 16: The Aquarium and the Sea (1)
“Are you sure there isn’t anything wrong?”
“Yes, ma’am. Seo-yeon is perfectly fine. In fact, she has a very resilient mind.”
“Th-thank goodness.”
A few days after the first shoot.
Mom took me straight to a psychiatrist.
The stated reason was for stress management, but I could guess the real motive.
‘It must be because of what she heard the other day.’
The words of actress Kim Mi-yeon, whom I had filmed a CF with before.
On top of that, it seemed actress Jung Eun-seon’s comments this time had also weighed heavily on her mind.
I could roughly piece together the conversation between Director Gong Jeong-tae, Mom, and Jung Eun-seon based on what had happened so far.
‘It’s probably because of my emotional acting.’
Holding Mom’s hand as we walked, I caught my reflection in a window.
It was the face of a cute young girl.
Six years.
No, it had been nearly seven years since I became this ‘me.’
‘Actress Jung Eun-seon doesn’t like my acting.’
I didn’t think it was because she disliked me personally.
She was the type of person who believed in the common sentiment that ‘children should act like children.’
‘Refrain from deep emotional acting while you’re young, and only start once you’re mentally mature.’
I suspected that was Jung Eun-seon’s intention.
She wasn’t wrong.
In one’s child actor days, there was no real need for profound emotional performances.
Riding the surface-level flow of emotions was more than enough; in fact, even that was often plenty.
I wasn’t an idiot.
I knew exactly how people viewed my acting.
Jung Eun-seon, in particular, might have found my acting style precarious.
Of course, I had never considered this to be ‘acting.’
To me, this was merely an act that had been close to daily life in my previous existence.
To put it simply, yes.
This was related to my past life.
Alexithymia.
It is a condition where one cannot properly feel the emotions of others or express their own.
It’s slightly different from the disorders commonly referred to as sociopathy or psychopathy.
The fact that I didn’t get along with my parents in my past life, and the fact that I was unemployed for a long time—it all came down to this.
Because of it, I had been forced to be ‘normal’ since childhood.
Being special wasn’t allowed.
I had to laugh when normal people were happy and cry when they were sad.
I had to learn those emotions one by one.
Emotional mimicry.
To achieve that, I consumed a vast amount of media.
Movies, dramas, books, web novels, games.
Anything where human emotions were clearly displayed.
I did it so I could naturally blend into the crowd.
For a very long time, I lived for that purpose alone.
Still, I considered myself lucky.
They say that for most people with the same condition, even this is impossible.
Even the doctor said they had never seen a case like mine.
“Mom, I got a job.”
By the time I could utter those words with a smile, I was able to express the same emotions as anyone else.
“See? I knew you could do it.”
Mom had smiled and hugged me.
But even then, I didn’t understand the emotion behind it.
I believe my emotional mimicry is different from acting.
Simply imitating an emotion can create a sense of dissonance.
It can lead to the so-called ‘Uncanny Valley,’ making people feel even more averse.
However, I had subtly crossed that boundary.
A fake emotion that was infinitely close to the real thing.
I lived in such a world.
A gray world that was neither black nor white.
While living in that ashen world, I happened to come across a VTuber’s broadcast.
At first, I didn’t understand why people watched such things.
People liking a drawing that wasn’t even human.
But whenever that VTuber did something, the viewers shared in that joy.
They praised her, and they looked so happy.
It probably started then.
I couldn’t catch every stream because of work, but I watched whenever I had time.
A virtual mask made of 3D models or drawings where human emotions didn’t show through.
With that, maybe even I could look like a normal person.
That’s what I thought.
“Ju Seo-yeon.”
I looked up to see the grumpy face of a young girl.
“What are you doing here by yourself? Hurry up and follow us.”
Lee Ji-yeon spoke with her arms crossed, her posture incredibly cocky.
Sometimes I really wondered if she was actually six years old.
“I’m coming.”
“Hmph.”
Lee Ji-yeon looked me up and down.
Then, she stared at the massive tank behind me.
“Are you waiting for the beluga?”
At those words, I glanced back.
Today, I was at the aquarium for a kindergarten field trip.
The sight of countless fish swimming in the giant tank was truly a spectacle.
“Then why are you here?”
“I…”
Lee Ji-yeon hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“I came to find a lost child. You. Yeah, you.”
‘She’s lost.’
It felt like an announcement looking for a lost child would blare through the aquarium speakers any minute now.
Of course, that would include me too.
“What? Don’t laugh! I’m serious!”
I gave a small smirk at Lee Ji-yeon’s words and turned back to the tank.
Laughing.
It was a simple action, but one that felt very foreign to me.
In truth, for a long time after being born, I didn’t realize what had changed about myself.
I’ve become a girl.
What a cute child.
I thought those things while looking at myself from a somewhat detached perspective.
I didn’t think deeply about it.
I didn’t know how to do more than that.
It was still mostly the same now.
After all, I had never even tried to adapt in the first place.
Naturally, I had lived my life assuming this body was the same as my previous one.
I kept feeling that something was different, but perhaps I had subconsciously rejected it.
…How foolish of me.
I realized it myself around the time I started acting.
Naturally, this body feels emotions perfectly fine.
It has no illness; it is a very sturdy and healthy physical form.
As expected of the invincible TS body.
So, what I mean is…
These emotions are simply unfamiliar to me.
If I’m conscious of them, I can’t express them.
I don’t want to show a fabricated version of myself like in my past life.
That’s where the contradiction arises.
Perhaps actress Kim Mi-yeon, and actress Jung Eun-seon as well…
They must have noticed this disconnect in my emotions.
Both are actresses well-versed in emotional acting.
In particular, Jung Eun-seon’s method acting is said to be among the top three in South Korea.
That’s why she must have sensed that my current emotional state is very unstable.
Emotions are foreign.
And facing them is frightening.
My acting is closer to bringing forth the daily life of my previous existence.
Since it’s the accumulation of decades of experience, it’s only natural that it looks like acting a child my age could never pull off.
If a perfect emotion is 100 points, what I can mimic is roughly 95 to 98.
So to an observer, it looks like emotional acting that is near perfect.
But it is only ‘near’ perfect; it isn’t 100 points.
And I am a child actor.
The expected standard is low.
If I perform at a level that far exceeds that, it’s only natural for people to be surprised.
But.
‘The acting of adult actors was different, after all.’
Everyone praised me, saying I was better.
But in my eyes, I wasn’t.
Especially compared to Kim Mi-yeon or Jung Eun-seon, whom I had met before—there was no comparison.
Not 100, but 120.
Or even higher.
Those who can perform beyond what is requested are the ones commonly called ‘great actors.’
If I continue to grow like this, I might become a 100-point actor, but anything beyond that will be impossible.
As I get older, the level of acting required will eventually rise.
My acting, which never changes, will inevitably stagnate.
“…It’s an aquarium.”
“What is? Of course it’s an aquarium.”
“No, I mean my acting.”
I looked around.
The beautiful scenery of the aquarium filled my vision.
A world mimicking the sea.
Even with such an imitation, people can be moved to admiration and their emotions stirred.
But it would still fall short compared to the real sea.
That was roughly what I meant.
“What are you even talking about?”
Lee Ji-yeon spoke with a truly obnoxious attitude.
Of course, I didn’t expect much from a six-year-old.
I snorted, crossed my arms, and smirked.
“Must be nice being a kid. So carefree.”
“Back at ya.”
“…”
For a moment, I couldn’t find a comeback to Lee Ji-yeon’s ‘Back at ya.’
It felt like I’d lose if I responded.
‘Anyway.’
I turned my gaze back to the tank.
Before I knew it, the hidden white whale had revealed itself.
It was the star of this aquarium, known as the beluga.
As I reached out toward the approaching beluga, its snout touched the glass wall.
‘I have to adapt.’
After this hospital visit, seeing my worried mother made me change my mind.
I failed in my past life, but I had no intention of letting history repeat itself.
And the experiences of my past life remained in my soul.
This was surely a precious power of my own that no other actor could possess.
‘And for the sake of a proper RP!’
Didn’t the VTuber I always watched say it?
That you have to be sincere in everything you do!
Until now, my goal was to be a VTuber.
The desire to create a virtual ‘me,’ which my past self had longed for so much.
That still remained like a scar, largely unchanged.
But.
There was no reason I had to be sincere about only one thing, was there?
“Lee Ji-yeon.”
“Yeah?”
With the blue light from the tank at my back.
I spoke to Lee Ji-yeon, who was staring blankly at the beluga.
“I…”
I gave a wide, confident grin.
“I’m going to be an actress.”
And a great one, loved by everyone.
*
Gong Jeong-tae had a headache.
After hearing Jung Eun-seon’s words, he was genuinely conflicted about how to guide Seo-yeon.
‘But it could just be a needless worry, right?’
There aren’t many child actors in the world as polished as Jung Eun-seon hopes for.
How many could actually distinguish between emotional acting and simple surface-level acting?
Besides, Seo-yeon had never struggled after acting.
So it should be fine…
“…If I say that, I’d be a total piece of trash.”
“Pardon?”
“…!!”
Gong Jeong-tae jumped in surprise and spun around.
There stood Seo-yeon, who had changed her clothes at some point, standing demurely.
“Ahem, cough. Right, Seo-yeon. Everything okay?”
“Yes. Hello, Director.”
As always, Seo-yeon gave a polite bow upon arriving at the set.
The staff always wore fond smiles at her greeting.
‘Let’s not push her too hard. Let’s keep it comfortable, comfortable.’
He nodded to himself as he thought that.
Just as he was soothing his complicated feelings…
“You don’t have to worry about my acting.”
“…!”
Seo-yeon suddenly spoke up.
‘She heard us!’
In his flustered state, he tried to say something, but Seo-yeon had already bowed again and disappeared.
Her footsteps were lighter than usual.
“…Huh?”
Gong Jeong-tae tilted his head as he watched Seo-yeon’s retreating figure.
He didn’t know why.
But he felt as though something about Seo-yeon had changed.