Not a Single Soul Could Look Away
The darkness before my eyes slowly began to clear, as if adjusting to the gloom.
A familiar scene unfolded right in front of me.
Min-woo’s workshop.
And standing right in the center of it was Kim Chan-uk.
Perfect.
The atmosphere around him was so heavy it was hard to believe it was the same person. A crushing sense of despair radiated from him, like it could swallow you whole.
He’d sharpened his blade properly.
Even though I’d activated the acting support, I didn’t feel any particular change at first. This skill cost a full 100 points per minute, after all.
I guess I should start acting.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, my body began moving on its own.
Huh?
It felt as if Director Lee Tae-ryun’s vision of Sang-cheol was being overlaid directly onto me. Like invisible strings were connected to every part of my body. Power surged into my movements.
My previously loose fists clenched tighter. So tight that my nails dug crescent marks into my palms.
So this is what it feels like.
Even to my own eyes, my motions had drawn much closer to Sang-cheol. Or more precisely, to the Sang-cheol that Director Lee Tae-ryun imagined.
Not a bad feeling at all.
Because I had never performed in such long takes before, the longer the rehearsal dragged on, the more exhausting it became to focus on both movement and dialogue at once.
With this ability, I could concentrate solely on my lines and emotions. In other words, I could deliver my absolute best performance.
“That’s a wrap on the final scene for Sang-cheol!”
The voice announcing the end of rehearsal echoed through the space.
What the…?
Kim Chan-uk was genuinely stunned—so much so that a gasp nearly escaped him during the rehearsal. The feeling was completely different from the previous run-throughs.
Kim Doyun’s aura had changed in an instant.
What on earth did he do?
The moment Chan-uk thought he had caught up, Doyun was already far ahead. Or perhaps he had simply been holding back his true strength until now.
Standing before him, Chan-uk felt like he was facing a colossal monster.
Was I really saying I would beat something like this?
He wasn’t the only one shaken. Even Director Lee Tae-ryun, who had only just begun to regain confidence in his own judgment, felt the same.
“Um, Director?”
Yun Song-i cautiously opened her mouth.
“What did you think of Actor Kim Doyun’s performance?”
Lee Tae-ryun didn’t answer. More accurately, he couldn’t find the words.
He had always prided himself on his eye for actors. Over decades, he had watched hundreds of them.
The talented ones. The ones who survived on sheer effort. The ones who burned bright. The ones who bloomed slowly.
He had distinguished them all with these eyes.
But Kim Doyun…
I can’t categorize him.
That was why he had tried to cast him as the lead, hoping to classify him as a genius through his own talent—only for Doyun to run away.
And above all, today’s performance.
There’s nothing left for me to direct.
It wasn’t simply that Kim Doyun was following the direction and emotions Lee Tae-ryun had envisioned. It was as if the director’s own mind had been transplanted into the actor’s body.
Director Lee Tae-ryun’s face flushed red for a moment.
It felt like he was watching his own imagination play out before his eyes. The suspicion was so strong it bordered on disbelief.
This is insane.
He had always considered himself a genius.
“Hoo…”
This devilish actor who tormented him so. Standing before Kim Doyun, Lee Tae-ryun finally gave up on thinking any further.
The director exhaled quietly.
“We’ll see it on the main shoot tomorrow.”
“Pardon?”
“For now, let’s just wait and see.”
At this unfamiliar side of Director Lee Tae-ryun, Yun Song-i let out a small chuckle.
“I never thought I’d hear you say ‘let’s wait and see’ about an actor, Director.”
After rehearsal ended, I stared at the blue window floating before me.
Appearance Fee: 500pt
Ability Usage Cost: 700pt
Remaining Points: 2800 PT
It was a slight loss.
I probably shouldn’t use it during the main shoot unless it’s for the final scene.
Still, using it once today had been the right choice.
At first, I hadn’t felt any change at all. I was busy thinking I had wasted 100 points per minute.
But the moment my body started moving, everything changed.
Since I no longer had to worry about my movements, I could focus entirely on my lines. With that mental breathing room, I could dive deep into the emotions.
Most importantly, after performing Director Lee Tae-ryun’s version of Sang-cheol today, I was able to steady the emotions that had been shaken by Writer Yun Song-i’s script.
The gallery’s reaction should be positive too. With that thought, I opened the gallery.
[Auto Upload]
Title: Rehearsal
Uploader: Monster Rookie
Rehearsal.avi
Huh? The reactions were different from what I expected.
The technique faction was cheering the fact that I had escaped the method trap, Dracula was lamenting, and Princess was spouting her usual nonsense as always.
It wasn’t method acting, it was technique?
I thought I had perfectly performed the Sang-cheol that Director Lee Tae-ryun wanted. I believed I had cast aside useless thoughts and immersed myself in the version of Sang-cheol he desired…
A puppet?
Does Dracula see this as the wrong answer?
Dracula’s comment received a flood of replies. But perhaps because I had learned from him, his words lingered.
It’s bothering me.
I was about to close the gallery, my mind tangled with complicated thoughts, when—
“Actor Kim Doyun!”
This kid… wasn’t he the youngest member of the filming crew who had given me a lunchbox before?
He must have run over while working; he was still clutching a thick bundle of cables in one hand.
“Actor Doyun! I was seriously blown away by your acting again today!”
His expression was filled with genuine admiration. I answered with a smile.
“Thank you. I think it went a little better today.”
At my words, the youngest crew member tilted his head.
“Really? I actually thought your previous performance felt a bit more like Sang-cheol…”
It seemed this young staff member had a slightly different opinion from Director Lee Tae-ryun.
After thinking for a long moment, he suddenly waved his hands in panic.
“I’m sorry! Of course you would know better than me!”
Watching him fidget awkwardly, I asked.
“It’s fine. I’m actually grateful for your opinion. Do you have something else you wanted to say?”
“It’s nothing special, but I’m a huge fan, so…”
He hesitated for a moment, then set the cables down on the floor and spoke.
“I’m really confident in myself. Would you please appear in one of my films later?”
A film?
Is his goal to become a director?
A passionate young staff member dreaming of directing. What a heartwarming sight!
Looking at his sparkling eyes, I smiled and replied.
“A film? So your dream is to direct?”
“I’m telling you, I’m insanely good with lighting!”
Lighting? He must mean cinematography.
There had been a director in Korea famous for masterful lighting. Was he still unknown at this point in time?
As I pondered, he continued.
“If it were me, I’m sure I could capture Actor Kim Doyun’s performance perfectly. I, Baek Hyeon-jin, want to make you my muse!”
“Baek Hyeon-jin?”
He looked flustered when I asked in surprise.
“Yes, that’s right. Baek Hyeon-jin.”
He pulled out the staff ID card he had tucked inside his shirt and showed it to me.
[Filming Crew Staff / Baek Hyeon-jin]
I froze for a second. Lighting. And the name Baek Hyeon-jin.
The director who created indescribable mise-en-scène with delicate, masterful lighting.
The genius director who would one day stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Lee Tae-ryun—Baek Hyeon-jin?!
My heart began to race.
So this was when Baek Hyeon-jin was working under Director Lee Tae-ryun.
My pulse quickened. I struggled to suppress my excitement.
Think.
How should this moment look?
And act.
A fresh, innocent promise between a complete rookie who knew nothing yet and a young staff member dreaming of becoming a master filmmaker. That was how it should appear.
I smiled calmly.
“Alright, Director Baek. Let’s definitely make a film together someday. For some reason, your words really resonate with me, Mr. Baek Hyeon-jin.”
Baek Hyeon-jin nodded, visibly moved.
“R-really? Thank you so much.”
He grabbed my hand and continued.
“You’ll appear in my very first film, right?! I’m counting on you, Actor Doyun!”
I gripped his hand back—tightly. With the resolve that I would absolutely, never let go. I nodded.
“You mustn’t forget either, Mr. Baek Hyeon-jin.”
“Of course!”
“Hey, what are you doing over there? Slacking off?”
“W-wait! I’m still talking to the actor!”
In the blink of an eye, Baek Hyeon-jin was dragged away by a senior member of the filming crew.
The corners of my mouth lifted.
Baek Hyeon-jin before he became a director.
I never imagined I would meet a future master like this. And he was the one who reached out first.
Not bad. No—very good.
After Flowers Fall wrapped, the path ahead began to unfold clearly in my mind.
Kim Chan-uk had become sincere about the stage. Lee Se-rin had overcome her stage fright.
Now only one thing remained.
On the main shoot stage, I’ll show them everything.
Kim Chan-uk, Lee Se-rin, Baek Hyeon-jin, Director Lee Tae-ryun, and the audience.
I would make sure not a single one of them could look away.