That Crazy Bastard Who Turned It Down Is Me
The set froze solid at Director Lee Tae-ryun’s bombshell. The staff held their breath, eyes darting nervously around the room.
“Director… then what about Kim Chan-uk…?”
Even at Yun Song-i’s worried question, Lee Tae-ryun’s gaze remained unchanged.
It was the way Kim Chan-uk approached the script.
If brilliance existed in talent, he would undoubtedly deliver a magnificent performance, so there was no reason to be angry. That was what the director had thought.
But in Kim Chan-uk’s acting, there was no agony for Min-woo.
It was an insult to the script.
And then there was the other question that had been smoldering in his mind. That thick, choking frustration had finally crystallized into one conclusion through Kim Doyun’s performance.
The lead is Kim Doyun.
Even though it was a play, it was the lead role on a live KBC broadcast stage. For a rookie, it was an opportunity beyond compare.
He had been certain Kim Doyun would never refuse. And that was exactly when—
“I’m sorry, Director. I’ll take the role of Sang-cheol.”
At that answer, Lee Tae-ryun’s brows drew together.
He couldn’t understand it. What possible reason could there be to refuse?
“Why?”
Kim Doyun answered without a moment’s hesitation, his face resolute.
“I am Sang-cheol. In this play, the role I can perform best is Sang-cheol.”
Lee Tae-ryun stared at him for a long moment.
“Hmm.”
Was this sincerity? Or was he pretending to lack ambition?
The thought that even that resembled Sang-cheol made Lee Tae-ryun let out a sigh.
“You’re kicking away a golden opportunity with your own foot. Very well. We’ll proceed as we are for now.”
At Lee Tae-ryun’s words, the tension on set finally eased. It seemed the incident would end as nothing more than a brief hiccup.
But Kim Chan-uk was grinding his teeth.
The fact that Lee Tae-ryun had cast him aside and offered the role of Min-woo to a supporting actor. When Kim Doyun refused it, he had felt a momentary wave of relief.
Yet the realization that he was being shaken by a worthless extra filled him with humiliation and rage.
Just how insignificant did they think he was?
He was obviously far superior to that damned bit-part actor—in skill, in looks, in fame!
And yet, from the staff to his fellow actors, even the director… Kim Chan-uk simply could not understand why he was being treated this way.
Being pushed around because of a nameless extra was something that had never happened to him, not since his idol days or even after he started acting.
No. It had never happened in his entire life.
For Kim Chan-uk, who had been the protagonist of his life from the very beginning, this was an unbearable defeat.
Damn it!
With his face flushed red, Kim Chan-uk spoke before he could control his expression.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well, so I’ll be leaving first!”
I clutched my head. After rehearsal, as I walked alone, Director Lee Tae-ryun’s offer and my own answer kept spinning through my mind.
It was obvious to anyone—even a child—that the lead role of Min-woo would generate far more buzz than the supporting role of Sang-cheol.
“And I kicked it away with my own two feet.”
Aish, you idiot. But the regret lasted only a moment. There was a reason I had no choice but to refuse.
Taking Kim Chan-uk’s role through any method other than an audition. I did feel a bit uncomfortable about it, but I didn’t feel outright repulsion.
If that had been the only issue, I would have accepted.
Until now, Lee Se-rin had been building chemistry with Kim Chan-uk’s Min-woo. The moment Min-woo changed, her immersion would shatter.
That can’t happen.
It wasn’t a question of whether I could play Min-woo well or not. If Lee Se-rin’s focus broke and she caused a broadcast accident, everything I had worked for so far would go up in smoke.
It’s not a risk worth taking.
And above all else—the real reason, bigger than anything.
Because I am Sang-cheol.
Whether it was the lead or a supporting role, I had already become Sang-cheol.
When I acted as Sang-cheol, I was the most myself. I enjoyed it the most.
I had to perform the acting I was best at. The acting I wanted to do. Because that would be the most enjoyable—and therefore the most brilliant—performance.
I really am a selfish bastard, aren’t I?
Still, I was sure that if Dracula were here, he would have told me to do exactly this.
That was why I had no regrets. Well… maybe just a tiny bit.
With that thought, I opened the Actor Gallery to check the reactions.
Author: Monster Rookie
Rehearsal.avi
“Haha…”
Seeing those familiar usernames finally loosened the tension in my chest a little.
“So my choice really was right.”
These people helped me feel certain of it once again.
I smiled and left a comment.
Wait, huh? What? Wasn’t this the correct answer? It was exactly what the Dracula in my heart had told me!
What.
I pulled out my phone from my pants pocket to check the time for the post-rehearsal dinner.
“There’s still some time before evening.”
A line I had felt was lacking during rehearsal suddenly came to mind, so I had been muttering it to myself on the street. It seemed more time had passed than I realized.
Suddenly, I looked down at the small phone in my hand.
This is a memory too.
An old flip phone. The edges were completely worn, the paint chipped away, and the outer LCD screen had a faint crack running through it.
Well, even back then some kids were using smartphones.
Still, this was the phone I had used to check audition notices and jot down acting notes.
It had never let me down. A truly excellent manager.
When I flipped it open, the number 5 key sparkled especially brightly. It was the shortcut to my memo pad.
Curious what I had written back then, I pressed it.
I wonder what’s in here.
Twenty years had passed, so I couldn’t remember the contents clearly.
No matter how much I loved acting, I was young. Maybe there would be a love letter or lyrics to a song I liked.
[4/18 Independent Film <Red Bird> Audition]
[4/21 Short Film <End of Memory> Male Lead 1st Audition]
[5/2 Play <Silent Night> Open Audition]
[The uncle I saw on the bus—his eyes were empty, mouth closed. > Reference for suppressing emotions.]
[Practicing in the rain > The trembling acting became more natural.]
…
Huh. No matter how far I scrolled, it was all acting-related.
Nothing’s changed from back then to now, has it?
I was staring blankly at the flip phone screen when a black van suddenly stopped right in front of me.
A celebrity?
It was in front of the broadcasting station, so it made sense. That was what I was thinking when—
The car door opened with a clunk.
Glossy black hair with elegant waves that felt slightly out of place for the era. Mysterious eyes and deep, captivating eyelids that drew everyone’s attention. A woman with a cold aura stood there.
“Lee Se-rin?!”
My voice must have carried, because the people around us immediately began whispering.
“I thought she looked familiar… is that really Lee Se-rin?”
“Wow, it really is Lee Se-rin.”
“Whoa, first time seeing a celebrity in real life.”
“Her aura really is on another level.”
“Who’s the guy next to her?”
“No idea. Her manager?”
“He’s tall and kinda handsome… maybe a labelmate?”
“Nah, he doesn’t seem that big.”
I hadn’t realized I had spoken so loudly. So she was already a very popular actress at this time.
I knew it, but seeing it in person is still surprising.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”
Lee Se-rin slightly lowered her sunglasses and looked straight up at me.
“It’s fine. More importantly—”
She gestured toward the sleek, glossy van.
“Get in first.”
“Yes?”