Perfect Audition 2 (2)
Even now, when regression tropes have been beaten to death and turned cliché, one core truth remains unchanged.
A regressor has to be desperate.
They need to taste utter failure against insurmountable unfairness, that raw desperation and rage justifying the absurd cosmic law that rewinds time.
But people just shrug it off these days.
They've seen it all too many times to feel anything.
"So, what's the exact synopsis of this drama?"
"Well, the female lead's an illegitimate daughter of a chaebol family. She slaves away at all the dirty work to prove herself, but gets betrayed and killed by her own family. Then she goes back ten years, prepares her revenge, meets the male lead along the way, and uncovers a massive conspiracy that's been hidden..."
"It's a standard regression story."
"Yeah, pretty much."
It's a bit unusual that she dies a lot in it, but that's about it.
Veteran actress Choi Na-kyeong, a seven-year pro, and even her juniors a year or two behind weren't seriously pondering the setup. They were just weighing Kang Min's buzz, their own screen time, and the PD's clout.
Not laziness—just practical judgment.
No one's actually died before, right? So as long as it doesn't feel awkward, you're good.
Better to pour effort into popular scenes, like the romantic tension bits.
That's how most prepared their best shots.
—Of course, that was before Kang Min's eyes snapped open in front of them.
[Guh...!]
No chairs or desks toppled.
His body didn't convulse on the floor.
What happened was simple: Kang Min just collapsed forward onto the desk.
An utterly ordinary motion.
But anyone who saw his eyes thought otherwise.
[Hic...]
Raw betrayal, vivid as a child's.
Terror of the unknown, something no one should know.
And above it all, rage that swallowed everything—
The actors, pros that they were, froze in the face of that intensity.
Even Choi Na-kyeong went rigid in an instant.
This is improv acting?
Just from thinking, 'Let me show you an example'?
As the room sat stunned, Kang Min's emotions didn't fade.
No—they swelled even more.
I can't die like this.
I absolutely can't die like this!
What have I done for you all? I didn't hesitate at any dirty deed!
How could you... to me...!
[Hic...]
His arm flails weakly.
Fingers too limp to clench scrape at empty air.
But his trembling eyes,
his twisted face,
every emotion laced with fury, grief, and screams—they all scream it's a final, desperate spasm.
A rookie who met Kang Min's gaze instinctively backed away.
Negative emotions overflowed, exploding to dominate the room.
And soon, they faded.
[Guh...]
His breathing slows, quiets.
I can't die like this, he repeats inwardly, but color drains from his body all the same.
No human can resist the flesh's death. That's the law of the world.
[......]
Resentment.
Hatred.
Desperation again.
All emotions fade colorless as his arm drops.
His eyelids, bereft of brain commands, don't close in satisfaction—they slacken from early post-mortem muscle relaxation.
Half-lidded eyes, lost direction, brim with venomous grudge, pure hatred that everyone should just die.
"······."
"······."
Everyone stared, speechless.
Choi Na-kyeong, the other auditionees, even the writer peeking from the judges' seats.
What did we just witness?
The stunned silence hung heavy—until then.
"Ahem."
Kang Min sat up casually, like it was nothing.
The room jolted.
"Well, something like that direction should work. Helpful, Senior Choi Na-kyeong?"
"Y-yes?"
Choi Na-kyeong blinked, snapping back.
She tried to speak, but words failed. No surprise there.
Kang Min soothed her sympathetically, like she was a hand-puppet floundering.
"I get it. I'm no great actor either—this is just my take. You'll do it way better, Senior, so add your own spin."
"Wha?! No, that's not...!"
"Sorry for the late explanation. Looking forward to your interpretation."
"Uh, th-that is... I mean..."
Choi Na-kyeong stammered, grasping for words.
Then she realized every auditionee's eyes were on her.
And her position meant she had to top that.
Hic...
Her face drained paler than Kang Min's death scene.
#
"Good work."
"Th-thank you..."
An auditionee slumps out, shoulders drooped, on the verge of tears.
Kang Min scratched his cheek. "Hmm, not sure why, but everyone's so intimidated. No idea."
"...Yeah. Wonder why."
"?"
Kang Min eyed Han Ye-seul's muttering oddly, then finished scoring the thirty-third applicant.
And pondered.
Hmm...
Truth be told, scoring was pointless. By Jiho Acting Academy founder Hong Ji-ho's standards, they'd all fail.
His mentor always stressed one thing:
'Worrying about others comes later. If you don't believe you're perfect first, real acting won't emerge...'
But these auditionees were all hyper-aware of eyes on them.
Some couldn't mask expressions mid-scene; others burst into tears.
This wasn't even evaluation territory.
What the hell's wrong...?
"...You really have no clue."
"Anyway, at this rate, don't we have to pick Senior Choi Na-kyeong?"
"For real?!"
"She was the best."
Han Ye-seul gaped, but Kang Min was firm.
At least Choi Na-kyeong had drive.
She threw her whole body into it, rolling on the floor howling—acting was iffy, but desperate? Check.
Would've been better without the flubs.
"She won't come even if we call. She bolted crying."
"Attitude aside, she was sincere about the acting. Makes me want her more."
"......."
Han Ye-seul clutched her head again, but had no sharp fix.
Confident actors crumbled into self-loathing, half-assing it; the insecure just fled.
Unprecedented chaos.
And the cause? Kang Min's single demo.
Even writer Yoo Ji-min was moping, digging into the earth: Is this right? Am I really giving this script to that actor?
Han Ye-seul felt like she'd lose it.
"Why me...? From Black Forest days, what's your grudge against me...?"
"?"
Han Ye-seul trembled.
Her vision filled with nightmare headlines: 'Kang Min-Han Ye-seul New Project: 100 Actors Flee, Casting Fails!' 'Harbinger of a Cosmic Masterpiece? Netizens Cheer!'
The fallout? Obvious.
Please...!
Han Ye-seul prayed desperately, called the next number—but no dice.
Even pumped-up ones wilted at Kang Min's gaze, deflating like punctured cans if he spoke.
The better ones overcompensated, ruining whole takes.
That hellish time dragged,
until the last number ended.
No one stood out.
"......."
"......."
Han Ye-seul clutched her head in silence. Writer Yoo Ji-min, even visiting director Shim Yoo-hyeon peeked nervously.
Hellish quiet.
Of course, Kang Min was bold enough to ignore it.
"Hm, guess it's Senior Choi Na-kyeong after a—"
"Aaaah!!"
"?"
Whether she snapped or not, Han Ye-seul had no choice. Sobbing inwardly, she declared Choi Na-kyeong passed.
Nearby entertainment reporters, bored by the flop, smacked lips and posted.
"Picked Choi Na-kyeong after all. Experience, and she was the best."
"Predictable, but boring. Pull aggro saying they rigged it with a secret pick?"
"Die alone if you wanna. Kang Min's image post-PSA is no joke."
"Tch."
But soon, even reporters perked up.
Exactly one day later, one burst in yelling.
"Breaking! Breaking! Choi Na-kyeong rejected Kang Min's new project casting!"
"What?"
"The hell? She went to the audition herself!"
"Right?! Official statement's sudden condition issues..."
"Huh?"
"Insane. Round up rumors!"
Reporters buzzed excitedly; luckily, among the 100+ auditionees, one could spill the tea.
Netizens reeled at the absurdity.
Even after production stated, "If it's temporary condition issues, we'll wait gladly," Choi Na-kyeong's side declined again.
Rumors exploded, naturally.
If rumors stayed rumors, better to weather it. Choi Na-kyeong burrowed under covers, silent; talk shifted elsewhere.
Han Ye-seul thought the same—didn't pan out.
With senior Choi Na-kyeong hiding despite image hits, even ambitious 4-5 year vets got cold feet.
Repeated flops had Han Ye-seul unraveling.
"Why! Why only me...!"
Obvious reasons aside, two paths left:
Rookie desperate for a shot, or top tiers like Seo Bom, Yoo Ji-yu, Jin Seo-hye.
First: massive risk.
Second: massive cost.
Either way, her hairline was heading for Kim Kang-hyun director levels.
Han Ye-seul tore at her scalp.
How... what now...?
Desperate turmoil.
Utter mess—
But amid the chaos, one actress clenched her fist.
Finally... my chance!
It was Seo Bom.
#
Actress Seo Bom.
She'd endured humiliating times.
While Kang Min triumphed in King and Sovereign, rose in Unbelievable, even got government honors—she couldn't even contact her beloved senior.
The one reconciliation shot? A landmine.
But now... it's different!
Seo Bom grinned triumphantly.
Han Ye-seul PD's panic leaped off newsprint; no fixes in sight.
Die to Live casting hit a wall.
And Seo Bom could fix it.
She even had rapport with Han Ye-seul!
She plotted swiftly.
Approach carefully, super carefully. Contact Han PD first, float it gently. 'Saw the articles, must be tough.' She'll frown. Echo with 'Oh no, oh dear' sympathy. Pure pity tone. Slip in, 'No backups in mind?' She'll say no. Then jokingly, 'What about me?' Branches from there: thrilled, puzzled, reluctant—prep counters for all. Probe if senior said anything about me, calculate responses. Prep thoroughly. Once-in-lifetime shot. Nail it perfectly...
And—
"B-Bom-ah..."
"Don't talk. Thinking."
"The, uh, casting's done..."
"......Pardon?"
"Yoo Ji-yu showed up herself and snagged it. Article just dropped..."
"......."
"......."
Long silence.
Manager peeked nervously as Seo Bom slipped into her room.
Pulled covers over, kicked wildly.
Perfect Audition 2 (2) End