Chapter 21: Preparing for Broadcast (1)
Chapter 21: Preparing for Broadcast (1)
I wonder what the first person to ever lay eyes on the sea felt.
I can’t say for sure.
However, I suspect it might have been similar to what I felt when I first confronted my own emotions.
From a distance, the sea is merely something beautiful, blue, clear, and unknown.
To me, emotions were no different.
In my past life, emotions were simply "something that existed."
Of course, I don’t think my past self was miserable just because I couldn't feel emotions. It was simply a condition, a different way of being.
I avoided them because they were unfamiliar, because I didn't feel a particular need for them—or perhaps because I didn't feel the need to change.
But that’s the thing.
Just because a person wants to avoid emotions or decides they don't want to feel them doesn't mean they can stop them. Naturally, as a human being, one is bound to express them.
And so, at some point, I found myself naturally drifting toward those emotions.
One step, then another.
Eventually, I let the seawater washing up on the shore soak my ankles.
It was so cold and foreign.
I’m still not used to it, but by repeating the process steadily, I’ve come to understand it a little better.
I’ve come to see my own reflection in the water.
“Alright, let’s check the footage.”
At Director Gong Jeong-tae’s words, I swallowed hard.
My heart was thumping loudly.
Until now, I had never felt fear when checking my own acting. It was a routine, a given. Even if everyone applauded my performance, it was ultimately because it was acting that a child shouldn't be capable of.
They were merely applauding a near-perfect mimicry of emotion.
Acting.
Yes, looking back, that was acting too. Since my past life, I had always played the characters others wanted me to be.
But that was all it was.
It was something any veteran actor—or any actor capable of showing more than that—could naturally do. I simply had the habit of fabricating it effortlessly.
Because it was as natural as breathing, I felt no sense of specialness.
I felt no sense of accomplishment.
—"Your Majesty!!"
The acting began, accompanied by my voice—unfamiliar, yet somehow known.
I watched, forgetting even to blink.
I wasn't the only one.
Director Gong Jeong-tae, the staff, and actors Yoon Jong-hyuk and Jung Eun-seon were all gathered, watching the performance.
They watched until the very last moment, when Princess Yeonhwa left the room and the door clicked shut.
“Wow.”
As soon as the video ended, the cinematographer, Heo Jung-soo, let out a breath of admiration.
“We’re the ones who shot it, but this is seriously impressive. Look here, I also…”
“I agree. The way the light moves the moment Seo-yeon raises her head is excellent.”
The light, which had been bright, momentarily dimmed the second Seo-yeon looked up. Because of that, her red eyes appeared even more vivid.
This part was slightly different from the composition Director Gong Jeong-tae had initially requested. It was a brilliant ad-lib of sorts from Cinematographer Heo Jung-soo.
“…But was this really just the reflection of the lamp? No, people are going to think we added CG.”
Director Gong Jeong-tae said this as he peered into my eyes.
Unlike in the video, my pupils were currently a brownish color with only a hint of red. Director Gong looked at me with a puzzled expression before letting out a short chuckle.
My face must have looked different than usual.
“Seo-yeon.”
“Yes?”
“Do you think it turned out well?”
I hesitated for a moment at his question.
What should I say?
I replayed the video I had just seen in my mind. I remembered the days of struggle it took to film that single scene. I could still feel the dull ache from the wound on my palm.
But this was it.
This wasn't an aquarium; this was my first footprint, deeply engraved on the shore after I had stepped into the sea and let the water soak my ankles.
“Yes.”
I think that was the first time I realized it.
When you are uncontrollably happy, a smile just spreads across your face without you even knowing.
It was a feeling my past self could never have known.
This intense emotion felt by seven-year-old Ju Seo-yeon.
“I think it turned out really, really well.”
I was probably smiling like any other child my age at that moment.
Surely.
*
After that day’s shoot, I ended up bedridden for ten full days, just as I had expected.
I’m not sure if it was because of the intense emotional acting or the physical exhaustion from the past few days. My child’s body, vulnerable to stress in many ways, suffered just as I thought it would, and I only fully recovered after two weeks had passed.
It seems even this sturdy body I gained in this life has its limits.
“They said you can rest for a while because they moved your filming schedule up and finished it early,” my mother told me, as if to reassure me.
The deadline was generous anyway, and since I had filmed so diligently for a while, there wouldn't be any problems. In fact, I had enough leeway to rest for another week if I wanted to.
Everyone is worrying too much.
That’s what I thought, but on second thought, it was only natural.
I was only seven years old. Considering how other children acted, my behavior was the one that was abnormal.
But if intense emotional acting is this hard now, puberty might be a bit difficult.
That’s a problem I can’t do anything about. If I’m struggling this much now, it’ll be honestly tough during puberty when hormones are all over the place. Between that and the influence of my past life, there are many factors.
Though, I suppose being in a child’s body right now isn't much different.
“Ju Seo-yeon, you actually showed up today? Why are you here?”
“You make it sound like I wasn't supposed to come.”
I arrived at the kindergarten holding my mother’s hand. After exactly ten days, I was greeted by a strangely pouting Lee Ji-yeon.
“You want to be the princess too, don't you?”
For a moment, I wondered what she was talking about, but I understood as soon as I stepped inside.
Come to think of it, the kindergarten talent show was about two weeks away. The teachers of each class were busy preparing plays or dances with the children.
And you couldn't just dismiss a kindergarten talent show; these days, they were held quite grandly. All parents were expected to attend, and they often rented out large auditoriums for the event.
“Alright, raise your hand if there’s a role you want to play!”
Min-ah, the teacher of the Sun Class, addressed the children.
Her eyes flickered toward Lee Ji-yeon.
Then toward me.
A play? That’s a bit too obvious.
As expected, the Sun Class was preparing a play. And it was the common Snow White. I wished they had been a bit more creative, but I suppose this was the standard.
The important thing was that choosing a ‘play’ signaled a fierce determination to take first place at the talent show.
“Did you know, Ju Seo-yeon?”
“Can’t you just call me by my name normally?”
Lee Ji-yeon always stubbornly insisted on using my full name. She claimed it rolled off the tongue better.
“My mom said that parents get really intense about these plays.”
I wondered where she heard such things. But it made sense. Everyone wants their son or daughter to be the prince or princess. Apparently, some parents even complain if their child is given a role they don't like.
For the record, I learned all of this from Lee Ji-yeon. Sometimes I wonder what kind of things Ji-yeon’s mother tells her young daughter.
“Well, I’m just going to take whatever role is left.”
“Really?”
Lee Ji-yeon smiled brightly at my answer. She was always a child with a strong desire for the lead role.
Anyway, since I stayed quiet, the role of Snow White naturally went to Lee Ji-yeon. After all, children usually shy away from lead roles that have a lot of lines and pressure.
Of course, there were other children who wanted it, but they didn't dare challenge Lee Ji-yeon. It was, quite literally, Lee Ji-yeon’s one-woman show.
“Um, Seo-yeon. Are you sure you don't want another role?”
“Yes. There aren't really any other roles I want.”
“I see…”
Teacher Min-ah sounded disappointed as I took one of the remaining roles. Still, it felt a bit wrong for me to get too involved in a children’s play.
I mean, I am a child, but still. My parents probably would have liked to see me in a big role…
Hmm…
But it’s not like the role I got was a mere extra. It was a proper role in its own way.
I was the Queen’s ‘Magic Mirror.’
It was a role no other child dared to touch.
Your face doesn't even show, but you have a ton of lines.
Is there any role more undesirable than this? Even the seven dwarfs get to actually appear on stage.
Well, anyway, let’s do my best.
In a way, the role of the mirror is similar to being a VTuber, isn't it? It’s just that the Queen doesn't send any Super Chats.
Just because I’ve become serious about acting doesn't mean my resolve to be a VTuber has wavered. If anything, I’m just deep in thought about how I can link acting with being a VTuber.
Anyway, as the talent show approached, the final filming for The Moon That Hides the Sun began.
*
The Moon That Hides the Sun.
A fictional historical drama prepared by KMB.
At first, the general consensus was that it was just a historical drama targeting a younger audience with a significant budget. However, after the making-of film was released, it had become a hot topic for various reasons.
“Director Gong, Seo-yeon’s filming finished yesterday, right?”
Ha Tae-oh, the planning producer of Taesumdal, spoke to Director Gong Jeong-tae. He had a lot he wanted to discuss before today’s meeting.
“I saw the footage. You said this was Seo-yeon’s first time filming a drama, right?”
“Yes, that’s what I was told.”
Ha Tae-oh recalled the footage he had received yesterday. It was raw footage, not yet properly edited or set to music.
Even so, Ha Tae-oh had found himself drawn into the video.
Of course, it wasn't just Seo-yeon. If anything, Yoon Jong-hyuk’s performance as Grand Prince Jo Young stood out the most. It was a performance that truly lived up to his reputation as a master of villainous roles.
“And yet, she didn't really lose out to Actor Yoon Jong-hyuk… No, in certain scenes, there were parts where she was actually more intense. Just for a brief moment.”
Seo-yeon’s eyes when she first raised her head. Ha Tae-oh still couldn't forget that image.
What would it be like once editing and sound were added? Just thinking about it gave him chills.
“And… that was filmed yesterday, right?”
“That’s right. Isn't it magnificent?”
“Man, you really can’t underestimate child actors these days. I suppose he really is Park Sun-woong’s son. Oh, and of course… Seo-yeon was beyond words.”
Ha Tae-oh’s voice was uncharacteristically excited. Director Gong Jeong-tae couldn't help but smirk.
Well, anyone who saw that acting would react the same way. Even Park Jung-woo, who had been called a child prodigy since he was young, was shocked. It was quite a sight to see him acting his heart out in response.
“The scene where the young Princess Yeonhwa appears for the last time is S#32, right?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
Ha Tae-oh’s lips twitched as he recalled the footage from yesterday. It was the kind of smile you make when you’re trying to suppress a grin.
Sometimes, you just have a feeling. A vague sense that something is going to be an absolute hit.
That was exactly how Ha Tae-oh felt right now.
“Seo-yeon is going to get very busy.”
Because anyone who saw Seo-yeon’s final performance would undoubtedly want to cast her.