Bustling Awards Ceremony (4)
In truth, there were some circumstances behind Kang Min's scandal.
Specifically, it stemmed from the two invitations he'd received before coming to America.
One was, needless to say, the invitation to the Emmy Awards where he'd been nominated. Nothing unusual about that.
But the other one was a bit peculiar.
Even Aislinn Lewis, upon hearing about it, just gaped blankly.
"Broadway?!"
"Yes."
"My God..."
"I thought it was just a casual 'come watch' invite, something common around here... but apparently not."
"No way!"
Aislinn stared at Kang Min like he was an alien for a good while before letting out a deep sigh.
Then, as if to make a point, she held up her fingers.
"Do you know what EGOT stands for?"
"Emmy, Grammy, Oscar (Academy), Tony—the term for sweeping America's four major awards, right?"
"Then what about Grand Slammer, or EGOT winner?"
"Someone who's won all four, I suppose."
"Right. Only 16 people in history have ever done it. And if you exclude producers or directors who moonlighted in those roles, just three pure actors have achieved it."
Helen Hayes.
Rita Moreno.
And Audrey Hepburn, whom everyone knew well.
Broadway folks—the theater and musical crowd—particularly despised the last one.
"Not that they hate the actress herself, but back then, a ton of half-baked wannabes flooded Broadway thinking they'd snag a Grand Slam. To get a Tony or Grammy, you had to go through Broadway, obviously."
"I see."
"That crowd's elitism toward TV shows and movies had been simmering for ages, but it exploded around then. Before that, Tonys didn't strictly separate film actors or TV stars, but afterward, they drew a hard line. Said it lowered their prestige."
"Hm."
"So, Min, getting an invite like that is extremely unusual for you! What the hell are they thinking..."
She's surprisingly fond of explaining things, Kang Min thought. Aislinn caught his expression and looked even more exasperated, of course.
Shaking her head again, she asked,
"Just one question. Have you ever been to Broadway?"
"No. Would ignoring it be a problem?"
"Big problem."
"Damn."
"...Swearing suits you way too well, you know."
"?"
Aislinn cleared her throat with a cough, recovering her expression like the pro actress she was.
Then she put on a smug face.
"Well, since you gave me some good advice today, I'll pay off my debt."
"...?"
"Don't worry. No one else could guide you like I can. Let's start with dodging those reporters camped outside."
But for some reason, her confident grin gave Kang Min a slightly ominous feeling.
And that premonition turned out to be spot on.
Exactly 20 minutes later,
Aislinn Lewis was sitting on the sidewalk, cackling like a madwoman.
"Ahahaha! Did you see? Those idiots' faces?!"
"...Well, if someone's sprinting full speed right in front of you when you're trying to interview them, what can you do?"
"You ran too, Min! You're pretty fast, huh?"
"Sorry, have you lost your mind a bit?"
"If I lost it, it's because of someone who made me snap today! Mostly the guy next to me!"
Feels great letting loose like this—Aislinn kept laughing hysterically before pulling on oversized sunglasses and a hat to cover her face. She handed Kang Min his share too.
Kang Min wondered why someone who'd always managed her image so perfectly was acting like this now—and why she hadn't used this trick earlier if it worked—but he kept quiet.
A normal person like him shouldn't try to understand lunatics...
"Just covering your face isn't enough, is it? The outfits are too flashy."
Kang Min was in a plain suit, but Aislinn was wearing a vintage black chiffon Versace dress. It was styled somewhat practically, but it still screamed for attention.
Aislinn just smiled with her eyes.
"You'll see when we get there. This is tame by comparison."
"Hm."
She was right. After sighing deeply and taking a flight their agent-manager had scrounged up, they'd arrived after four hours in year-end Broadway, a street so vibrant it made even famous actresses look ordinary.
Times Square loomed in the distance, malls buzzing with shoppers, while here a parade of dressed-up folks marched on.
But Aislinn veered off the avenue between the St. James Theater and New Amsterdam Theater into a slightly shadier alley.
"These big theaters are what people usually call just 'Broadway.' Like giant cinemas, but for plays instead of movies. For the real deal, nothing beats Off-Broadway."
The theaters here all looked a bit worn and shabby.
But the vibe of the people around was noticeably different—sharper, more intense.
"I'm telling you, Sweeney Todd is overrated! I'd rather see 42nd Street again!"
"Oh, that thing that got hot off stupid tap dancing and chorus lines? Perfect for morons who clap without knowing better!"
"You bastard!"
"None of it compares to 1776!"
"I've told you a million times, that's overhyped just 'cause it's American history!"
Families out for a stroll or couples holding hands had vanished; only the 'real' enthusiasts remained.
These types openly scowled at Kang Min and Aislinn walking cozily(?) together.
Aislinn found it hilarious.
"Lucky us!"
"This situation?"
"Yeah, those guys too, but look! Even Off-Off-Broadway is doing something rare!"
The spot that caught their eyes was a fairly antique theater. But oddly, what was unfolding on stage wasn't a play.
Well, technically it was, but a weird one.
For starters, the people climbing onstage were tipsy-faced audience members.
"Sancho, blow the trumpet! You hideous giants! The knight attacking you is none other than the Knight of La Mancha—don't run, stand your ground!"
"Master! It's not a monster! Better say my wife's face sprouted a black mustache!"
It was the familiar Don Quixote, Man of La Mancha. The two actors on stage, masked, handled their roles competently enough.
But soon, an intruding audience member burst in, belting out a song that flipped the story.
There's a hole in the world
A massive black pit.
And all the world's vermin
Live inside it.
Morals are useless
Where pigs spit—
That's London, you see!
The intruder bantered nonsensically with the Sancho actor like old pals.
The onstage duo rolled with it seamlessly, no panic, keeping the fight going.
Aislinn whispered,
"It's Sweeney Todd. They hate your play, so they're hijacking the stage. Anyone can jump in. You ad-lib to drag the story your way."
"Sounds like it'd turn into chaos fast."
"Surprisingly not. Challenges happen at set times, and Off-Broadway folks have huge egos. One boo, and they blush and flee barefoot. Like jazz bars turning into battlegrounds now and then, but it rolls on."
And indeed it did.
The intruder flubbed once, boos erupted from the seats, and he slunk off fuming. Cheers for the defenders, who waved smugly.
But the next intruder succeeded. The play shifted from Man of La Mancha to Big River. He won three defenses and bowed out to applause.
Kang Min watched, intrigued.
Like an ad-lib battle royale. Bizarre, but everyone's got real chops—no weak links.
Until now, his benchmarks for 'stellar acting' were Yi Hoon from King and Sovereign or Stefan Geisler from Unbelievable—honed by years, exuding savvy poise.
Yet even these stomping, frustrated folks onstage didn't feel any less immersive.
Maybe the difference between camera actors and those who must captivate a live crowd.
Sensing his interest, Aislinn lit up, rattling on about plays, actors, scenes, tweaks.
She made a great guide.
"—So that A Chorus Line is the 2006 revival! I think Korea did it too, but it flopped—not my taste either. Shame! Modern musicals divide before and after it. Oh, and that detail over there..."
"You know your stuff. Did theater yourself?"
"Uh..."
Her reply came slow.
"...Yeah, sorta. There was a time I thought theater acting was my only path."
"Hm."
"Ancient history."
But afterward, Aislinn clammed up. Too much lingering regret for 'ancient history.'
Kang Min figured her sacrifices for success went beyond family—dreams too.
The stage heated up, cheers growing. But Aislinn spoke less and less.
Hm, what to do.
But Kang Min had tamed the one-woman storm Seo Bom, earning titles like 'Rhino Tamer' and 'Pro Busybody.' He'd read the mood, then casually opened,
"Why not hop up there?"
"Pardon...?"
"They lend masks without asking IDs—means they're cool with known folks joining incognito. Your outfit fits; slip in."
"That's..."
That's—
Aislinn just worked her mouth silently.
Kang Min gauged her, decided to push.
Shrugged.
"Fine, call it even if you show me."
"Huh? Debt?!"
"You said you'd repay. No idea what, but."
"I guided you from LA to NY?! Nearly 4,000 km!"
"Came up short."
"You don't even know what?!"
"Isn't it always like that?"
Aislinn gawked, then got it and laughed hollowly.
But she didn't back down.
She hesitated, then tensed her knees, grumbling with a resentful pout.
"You know? The highest-rated intruder gets to headline here next week—tradition."
"I see."
"Min, you might have to sub in."
"Oh?"
Her confidence had weight.
Past intruders had wielded instant Tony-sweepers that rocked the world.
But the masked Aislinn Lewis chose differently.
The American Plan.
Premiering Off-Broadway with an Obie in 1990, it took 17 years to hit Broadway in 2007—and bombed, no Tony.
Didn't matter.
"I went to Sarah Lawrence College."
"You're thinking, 'Ah, so this girl's a little crazy!'"
"We don't stay in hotels. But Mother thinks it'll help me. Y'know, 'find a match.'"
The actress fluidly switched between curious teen Lili and her oppressive 'American Plan'-pushing Eva. Most challengers floundered against the finesse and retreated.
Bored yawns at her initial restraint faded fast—soon cheers erupted.
"Who's that actor? Killer!"
"Voice rings a bell... who?"
"Quit sleuthing! Forgot the rules? Broadway snobs would freak if they saw us playing like this!"
"Yeah, who cares who!"
The once-awkward, scared actress glanced at Kang Min, regaining poise.
The play rolled on amid cheers.
No—grew masterful.
...My God.
And there, Kang Min felt inspiration for the first time—a jolt of shock as he watched.
Not self-contained acting. Constantly gauging the audience.
But not enslaved to it. Different from stage actors I've seen.
Like... mirrors from every angle? Is that possible?
If so, even on a shoot...!
Inspiration birthed ideas; ideas, intuition.
This acting was utterly alien to what he'd known. Yet familiar somehow.
As it matured, realizations snapped together in his mind.
Like igniting a reed field—flames racing outward, shattering his nightmare-reenactment obsessions.
Epiphany struck suddenly.
That's it—that's the way...!
Kang Min slapped his knee unwittingly.
And up to here, no scandal material. He'd gained huge value from coming, thrilled; Aislinn's stage seemed set to end flawlessly.
But not everything wraps neatly.
Soon, three intruders rushed the stage.
"We're challenging~"
Nothing odd yet. Aislinn had repelled five already. Everyone expected more of the same.
But this time...
"—?"
"?!"
The actress, grinning to handle it routinely, froze upon peeking under her mask. The intruder's smile and words hit harder.
Anyone could see the agitation—Kang Min spotted trembling limbs, wandering pupils through the mask.
A few audience members murmured.
But the showdown that followed? Anticlimactic.
"?"
"Huh?"
"What the..."
No helping it. The acting turned pathetic, like her prior skill was a mirage. Audience rubbed eyes, baffled.
What?
What the hell was happening—
Recent feats fresh, they tried patience.
But it crumbled. Too abysmal for any tolerance.
Boos bubbled up here and there.
Aislinn's face paled visibly past her mask. Her foe smirked in victory.
"...Hm."
But alas for the intruders:
The man in the seats—the 'Rhino Tamer', 'Pro Busybody', fresh off major revelation—was watching.
The King of Death Acting stroked his chin, eyeing the stage.
Well, what to do...
Shall I?