Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: First Day of Elementary School
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“Yeonwoo, how do you feel now that you’re officially an elementary schooler starting today?”
Jihoon looked at his son and asked.
Yeonwoo, who had packed the bag Himari bought him, the clothes Jiyeong got him, and the smartphone from Grandma, looked back at his dad.
“I don’t know.”
That’s exactly how he felt.
Yeonwoo still couldn’t quite grasp it. What was the difference between elementary school and kindergarten?
The only things he noticed right away were that he wasn’t wearing a uniform and wasn’t carrying a bag with the kindergarten’s name on it.
“Get along well with your friends once you’re there.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, and… right, listen to your teacher. Got it?”
“Yes, don’t worry.”
Yeonwoo grinned.
“Alright, shall we head out then?”
Kids in the upper grades would go to school on their own, but for new first-graders, the school encouraged families to escort them for a while.
Jihoon usually headed to work at the crack of dawn, but for his son’s first day, he’d talked it over with the company and decided to walk Yeonwoo to school himself.
“Wow, the one and only elementary kid in our house!!”
Jiyeong shuffled out to the front door, her face a mess.
“Ugh, what’s with this shut-in?”
“Shut-in? I’m naturally a night owl, you know. I got up early on purpose to see Yeonwoo off to school.”
“Mom?”
“She must be tired. She was up at dawn making breakfast for Yeonwoo, so she’s sleeping now? Should I wake her?”
“No. Don’t bother her. She’ll get low blood pressure if she forces herself up.”
“Okay.”
Jihoon said that and looked at Yeonwoo. He was wearing the sneakers Jihoon had bought him.
Yeonwoo, who lacked for nothing, seemed to like the new sneakers too, as he was stomping his feet around for no reason.
“Doesn’t it feel totally different from when we were kids, oppa? I think Dad made me wear one of those anti-kidnapping bracelets, and even a necklace on top of that.”
Jiyeong’s words brought to mind chrome or silver necklaces engraved with names, birthdates, and home addresses. Jihoon recalled his own elementary school—no, national school—entrance back in the day.
“When I started, we had to pin a name tag to our chest along with a yellow towel underneath.”
“A towel? Why a towel?”
“In case we got a runny nose.”
“Pfft, isn’t that straight out of the Stone Age?”
Jihoon shook his head at her words.
“No, I didn’t, but there were plenty of kids with runny noses back then.”
“Really? Come to think of it, I think I saw kids like that when I was little too.”
“Dad, we’re gonna be late!”
“Huh? Hey! It’s still thirty minutes till nine!”
“No, we have to hurry!”
Yeonwoo ignored Jiyeong and tugged at Jihoon’s hand.
He might not fully realize it yet, but he was definitely looking forward to it.
Jihoon smiled and took Yeonwoo’s hand as they stepped out.
Truth be told, the school was practically inside the apartment complex, so it wasn’t far at all.
Even walking slowly, it took five minutes; taking a detour, not even ten.
“Dad, we’re going completely the opposite way from kindergarten.”
“Yeah. Guess that means it’ll be a bit farther from your studio now?”
“No, it’s not that far. Closer than the mart, for sure.”
“You know the way better than Dad, huh?”
“Yeah, hehe.”
Jihoon walked quietly, gazing at Yeonwoo.
Thinking about it, it had already been a year since he got Yeonwoo back.
And now, walking to elementary school with his kid. Jihoon felt a surge of emotion.
Yeonwoo was still small, but unlike before, he talked well, ate well, and had put on some healthy weight. He looked great.
The old shadows were nowhere to be seen.
In just one year, the kid had brightened up so much—thanks to Mom and his sister, no doubt.
The rift with Mom wasn’t fully mended yet, but when he thought of Yeonwoo, he was nothing but grateful to her.
“Hey, we’re here!!”
Yeonwoo’s eyes lit up as he pointed somewhere ahead. It was the elementary school he’d be attending.
“Yeonwoo, make sure you get along with your friends.”
“Yeah.”
Yeonwoo nodded vigorously.
“Go on in.”
“Okay, Dad. Have a good day at work!”
With that, Yeonwoo ran off to school without looking back.
Jihoon felt a little disappointed, but hey, that’s what happens when they’re that excited.
“Still feels kinda empty.”
Wonder what it’ll feel like when he goes to the army or gets married.
Was that too far in the future?
Jihoon chuckled to himself and turned back toward home.
* * *
Yeonwoo followed the signs to find his classroom and stepped inside.
It wasn’t hard to locate, really.
The first-grade classrooms were on the second floor, and there were only two classes: 1 and 2.
Yeonwoo was in Class 1.
Confirming the number 1, he opened the classroom door with excitement.
“Hey! It’s Yeonwoo!”
No sooner had he opened the door than the kids already there spotted him, and a few acted like they knew him.
“Hey, Nayoung! Seoyeon, Jieun, Yeseo, Junhoo, Siwoo—you’re all here!”
There were a lot of kids from his kindergarten in Yeonwoo’s class.
Most of the kindergarteners lived in the apartment complex, after all.
At least ten of his kindergarten classmates were in first grade.
The only place that had sent more elementary students than his kindergarten was the school’s own attached preschool.
Maybe that’s why the classroom felt so unfamiliar yet not strange at all.
Before he knew it, Yeonwoo was chatting and playing with the kids who had gathered around him.
In the meantime, he kept scanning the classroom.
The first-grade room was similar to kindergarten but different too.
For one, there were individual desks and chairs. And lockers.
The floor was stone tile, and big windows overlooked the playground at a glance.
The downside: no piano.
He could play the piano freely at kindergarten, but not here.
“Alright, everyone, from now on you’ll have classes four subjects a day. Then lunch, then home. Oh, but this week, no lunch—we go home before that. Lunch starts next week in the cafeteria.”
Yeonwoo listened carefully to the woman in her fifties who introduced herself as their homeroom teacher.
“Now, shall we take a tour of the school?”
There were no regular classes today.
They spent the time exploring the school and getting familiar with it.
And so, Yeonwoo’s elementary school life began.
* * *
Around the time Yeonwoo started elementary school and settling in, the drama written by Yoon Jina and directed by Park Sungkuk finalized its title as [High Teen Rock’n’Roll] and began recruiting for casting auditions.
No matter that Avalon had produced three colossal flops in a row, it was still a subsidiary of Studio Tiger, Park Sungkuk’s name hadn’t faded entirely, and Yoon Jina’s reputation as a rookie who hit it big with her debut couldn’t be ignored.
As a result, the casting auditions drew even more people than Avalon had anticipated.
“H-Han Sanghui? She’s coming to audition?”
Yoon Jina startled as she sorted through the applicants.
Han Sanghui was a 20-something actress on the rise, even called a frontrunner in the generational shift.
“That’s right. But her… doesn’t her face look too mature?”
“Yeah, it does. Still, to think someone of her caliber would audition.”
“It’s all because of you, Writer Yoon Jina. They’re not here for Avalon, that’s for sure.”
Yoon Jina gave an awkward smile at Park Sungkuk’s praise and checked the applicants.
They’d gotten way more than expected, but what surprised them more was the high caliber of the applicants.
“How did this happen?”
Park Sungkuk thought for a moment at Yoon Jina’s puzzled question, then spoke with a slightly bitter expression.
“Probably… things are tough these days. They just want to work on anything.”
Just as Park Sungkuk said, it had become incredibly hard for actors to land roles in movies or dramas lately.
The film industry was like Avalon—riddled with box-office bombs, studios halting productions, warehouses stuffed with unscreened movies.
On top of that, the overseas OTT boom had inflated actor fees, and viewers demanding higher quality made drama production a struggle.
Without OTT funding, dramas were no longer easy or cheap to make.
To cut costs, episode counts were shrinking: what used to be 18+ episodes was now 16 for a long one, or 8-12 for many.
No wonder actors were flocking to variety shows and ramping up YouTube activity.
To make a living and stay relevant, they had to go anywhere they could.
This hit young actors hardest.
The industry was locked down by veterans; breaking in was no easy feat.
Then a drama lead role opens up?
Young actors had no choice but to swarm it.
“But the main role, Ye-eun, needs to be a vocalist who can sing well…”
At Yoon Jina’s words, Park Sungkuk replied.
“Song’s important, but I absolutely won’t accept bad acting.”
“Same here.”
“Let’s narrow it down here first, set an audition date, and notify them?”
“Yes.”
The production team sifted out the obvious no-gos and selected finalists, setting a date.
* * *
“Yeonwoo, it’s starting now, okay? You absolutely can’t make a sound.”
“Yeah.”
Yeonwoo nodded, staring at the laptop screen.
“Or should I mute the mic and you just watch, then send the evaluation sheet later?”
“Do whatever, Aunt.”
“Got it. You evaluate, I’ll edit, and we’ll send the sheet.”
“Yeah.”
Jiyeong relayed this to Park Sungkuk right away and checked the screen.
“Video quality okay?”
“Yeah. How about you, Aunt?”
“Looks good to me too. No buffering. Good thing we got the best internet here, right?”
“Yeah.”
Yeonwoo nodded and stared at the screen with Jiyeong.
Just then, a voice came from the video.
-Are we connected, Writer Yuin?
It was Park Sungkuk’s voice.
Yeonwoo and Jiyeong exchanged glances, then Jiyeong hurriedly grabbed the mic.
“Yes, this is Shin Jiyeong. Yuin and I are here together. Video and audio are both fine.”
-Got it. Understood. We’ll bring in the first one right away. How will you handle evaluations?
“We’ll fill out the sheets and send them all at once at the end. That work?”
-Perfect. Let’s begin. First candidate, come on in!
Jiyeong and Yeonwoo stared intently at the screen.
The person who entered through the door was none other than Han Sanghui.
Seeing her, Jiyeong gasped.
“Wow, she’s here?”
“Who is she? Someone you know, Aunt?”
“Kinda famous actress?”
“I see.”
Yeonwoo nodded along, eyes on the screen.
Yeonwoo might not know, but Jiyeong secretly thought someone like Han Sanghui would land a role for sure, vocals aside.
She had that level of name value.
And maybe because of it, Han Sanghui confidently stated she wanted the lead vocalist role of Ye-eun.
With that, the singing began.
Hearing the voice, Jiyeong raised an eyebrow.
“Her singing’s… better than I thought?”
At those words, Yeonwoo’s face scrunched up immediately.