How to Become a Monster Rookie (1)
The evening after the final rehearsal ended, I sat alone at an empty corner table in the pojangmacha.
Dracula’s comment kept circling through my mind.
“Huu.”
I shouldn’t overthink it. Tomorrow is the live broadcast, after all. There’s nothing more I can do at this point.
I decided to trust what I believed was the right answer.
Come to think of it, I forgot to return this.
I glanced at the revised script of Flowers Fall inside my bag.
I can just give it back tomorrow.
That was when my mother and one of the regulars shouted loudly.
“Really? Doyun’s going to be on television?”
“That’s what I’m telling you! Don’t you know KBC? KBC!”
“Wow, Doyun’s something else!”
The regular customer slammed his glass down and yelled.
“See? It works when you actually do it! KBC is a huge network, right?”
“Wow, Doyun’s really made it! Boss, you must be thrilled. Having an actor for a son!”
“What’s there to say? It’s only natural. Hoho.”
The pojangmacha grew rowdy with talk about me. Then a familiar voice called from behind.
“Doyun.”
It was the president from Samryong Food Supplies.
“Could your noona go too…?”
She must have overheard the conversation about audience tickets earlier with my mother.
She’s being unusually calm about this.
“Do you watch plays, President Han?”
“Huh? Not really. I’m just a little interested.”
President Han whispered quietly. The regular manager burst out laughing.
“Haha! Doyun, do you know what President Han’s dream was before the old boss passed away? She wanted to be an idol! An idol! She used to perform so cutely in front of the staff when she was little… mmph!”
“Shut it, Manager.”
“This is workplace harassment! Harassment!”
President Han?
The surname Han was unusual. The female president of Samryong—the predecessor of SL Entertainment—had definitely been a Han as well. And her dream had been to become an idol… No way?
It can’t be.
After Baek Hyeon-jin, what were the odds of two such coincidences happening in real life?
While I was thinking that, President Han asked again.
“Watching a live broadcast in person has always been my dream. Would that be all right?”
It wasn’t as if the extra tickets could be used for anything else, and I had no real reason to refuse.
Since it was her dream… well.
I answered with a smile.
“Of course.”
“Thank you so much, Doyun! This noona loves you!”
Once again, President Han from Samryong Food Supplies pulled me into her chest.
“I-I’m going to suffocate…”
“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.”
Laughing, President Han released me. Then she turned to my mother.
“Now that I think about it, you’ll be going too, right, ma’am?”
“Of course. It’s my son’s debut stage.”
“Perfect timing. We got the audience tickets thanks to you. Doyun, I’ll escort your mother myself.”
“Really? If you’re going together, I can relax.”
“Look how cute he is.”
Honestly, I had been worried when my mother said she would come alone.
It was the moment I was soaking in the lively atmosphere of the pojangmacha before the live broadcast.
The voice of an anchor flowed from the TV mounted on one side of the tent.
Actress Lee Myeong-hwa’s daughter. Lee Se-rin.
Why did it have to be this timing, of all times?
“Lower the lighting angle a little!”
“Let’s check the camera movement one more time.”
“Final overall movement check, everyone!”
It was right before the live broadcast of Masterpiece Theater. The staff backstage were already in full battle mode. A taut tension filled the air.
I glanced at Lee Se-rin, who was having her makeup done in the distance.
She looks fine, at least…
Get a grip. Trust the great actress Lee Se-rin.
We had gone through three days of special training, after all.
In the waiting room, the makeup and costume teams were glued to us for final checks.
This feels strange.
They fixed my hair, smoothed out every wrinkle in my clothes, and applied makeup with meticulous care.
Since I had only ever played minor roles before, I had never had stylists hovering over me like this.
I was lost in that sense of deep emotion when the woman doing my makeup smiled and asked,
“Are you very nervous?”
“It’s my first time receiving this kind of makeup. It’s my debut stage, you see.”
Even as her brush moved without pause, the woman kept smiling.
“Really? You have such a wonderful presence that I assumed you had some experience already.”
“Haha…”
When people complimented me so kindly, I didn’t know where to put myself.
“Since it’s your debut, I’ll take extra care.”
“Thank you.”
At her words the brush strokes grew firmer.
It must have shown that I was trembling.
My body must have shaken slightly without me realizing it.
If I didn’t tremble at all, I wouldn’t be human.
Even in my previous life, after forty years of living, I had never been given a role with this much weight.
And on top of that, it was a live broadcast on KBC.
Though it isn’t just the tension.
Excitement.
The thrill of showing my acting to people across the entire country was pounding inside my chest.
“There. All done.”
At the woman’s words I looked in the mirror.
Huh. It’s better than I expected…
I had heard that stage makeup often looked grotesque because it had to account for the lighting.
But this was actually pretty good.
When I turned to the woman who had done my makeup, she wore a proud smile.
She really was a professional.
“Thank you.”
Even at my gratitude, the woman seemed momentarily at a loss for words and simply nodded.
“You look truly excellent with the makeup on.”
“It’s all thanks to you.”
She burst into bright laughter.
“Makeup only shines when the foundation is good to begin with.”
Her lip service was excellent. I smiled in satisfaction and looked back at the mirror.
The makeup had sharpened my eyes and brought every feature into clear relief—an expression that even I found unfamiliar.
Or is it the opposite?
It was a face I had lived with my entire life while playing nothing but minor roles, never once making proper use of it.
Now it was different.
Through a professional’s hands, its strengths had finally been drawn out properly.
At that moment the waiting room door burst open.
“Thirty minutes until the live broadcast!”
Tension instantly flooded the room.
It was finally time to step onto the stage.
Kim Chan-uk’s acting form had risen enough. I had done everything possible for Lee Se-rin.
The rest depended on her mental state.
Why had that news broken right before the live show? Had my actions somehow influenced it?
Let’s steady my mind.
As I stepped into the corridor, Lee Se-rin’s voice came from behind me.
“It looks better than I thought.”
Lee Se-rin nodded as she observed my appearance.
She seemed no different from usual.
“Right?!”
At my confident tone, Lee Se-rin shook her head.
“Now that I look again, not really.”
“That’s too much.”
“I’m joking.”
Lee Se-rin looked me over once more and gave a small nod.
“Well, at least you won’t embarrass yourself.”
“Haha… thanks.”
That was a compliment, right?
I asked the ever-blunt Lee Se-rin,
“How’s your condition?”
“What?”
She seemed to notice my unusual concern and narrowed her eyes. Then she let out a short sigh.
“Don’t worry about pointless things.”
“Haha…”
She had hit the mark.
Lee Se-rin leaned forward and poked my chest with her finger.
“If you have time to worry about others, focus on doing your own job well.”
With that, she flipped the finger that had been poking me and placed a candy in my hand.
“What’s this?”
“Herb candy. It eases tension.”
Looking closer, I saw that Lee Se-rin was also rolling something around in her own mouth.
She had even prepared one for me.
“Thanks.”
“It’s nothing.”
Lee Se-rin—her tongue might be sharp, but every action she took was filled with goodwill.
Besides, outwardly she showed no sign of mental strain at all.
She looks perfectly fine.
As expected of the great actress Lee Se-rin.
Just as the two of us were about to head backstage, someone brushed past us.
Kim Chan-uk?
“Kim Doyun…”
Kim Chan-uk stopped in front of me, words trailing off. What was this? He wasn’t about to cause trouble now, was he?
Don’t do that, Chan-uk.
“I’m going to beat you. Right now, my goal is you.”
Having said that, Kim Chan-uk quickly walked away.
“Huh.”
The shonen-manga-like line gave me secondhand embarrassment all over. Still, it was a good sign.
At that moment Lee Se-rin nodded and looked at me.
“I have no intention of losing to you today either.”
Why was even Lee Se-rin acting like this?
“When the great actress herself says so, I don’t know where to put myself.”
When I smiled and shot back, Lee Se-rin answered with a deadly serious expression, teeth clenched.
“I’m not joking.”
I froze.
I see.
A top-star male actor who acted with his face. And the greatest actress in the history of Korea.
Both of them were telling me, in all sincerity, that they would treat me as a true opponent.
My heart began to pound violently.
I really don’t want to lose now.
It was right then that Lee Se-rin shook her head.
“On second thought, we’re going to see each other again backstage right before it starts anyway. This is awkward.”
“Huh?”
Lee Se-rin’s prediction proved accurate.
The three of us gathered once more behind the stage.
Kim Chan-uk was covering his eyes with one hand and turning his head away.
How embarrassing. Why did you say that, Chan-uk?
A play is different from a drama.
In drama, the director can keep filming until he is satisfied.
But this was a play—and a live broadcast at that. Even veterans would find it impossible not to feel nervous on such a stage.
For a rookie, that nervousness would naturally be even more intense.
Writer Yun Song-i spoke in a worried tone.
“I wonder if everyone will do well.”
“Writer Yun. You didn’t even want to take on a play at first. Now you’re worrying about what I should be worrying about.”
At Director Lee Tae-ryun’s words, Yun Song-i gave an awkward laugh.
“Still, we spent an entire month on set together.”
Director Lee Tae-ryun rested his chin on his hand and answered.
“Who knows. Since it’s live, I doubt they’ll do better than rehearsal. If anything, they’ll probably do worse.”
“Come on, there are actors who shine in real performances, aren’t there?”
“I’ve never seen an actor who’s strong in a live broadcast.”
As Director Lee Tae-ryun answered indifferently, a thunderous noise like twisting steel beams erupted from the stage.
“W-what’s happening?”
While Writer Yun Song-i looked around in confusion, Director Lee Tae-ryun shouted into his walkie-talkie.
“What is it?!”
—Th-that is…
“What is it?”
The staff member struggled to continue. Then Cinematographer Yoon Sung-woo approached.
“What’s going on?”
At Director Lee Tae-ryun’s question, Yoon Sung-woo bowed his head.
“I’m sorry, Director Lee.”
Yoon Sung-woo frowned painfully as he answered.
“Kim Doyun… that is, the solo scene for Sang-cheol… the filming team made a mistake and the set was damaged. In the worst case, we may have to proceed without the set.”
Director Lee Tae-ryun squeezed his eyes shut.
Of all possible moments, it had to be the stage for the complete rookie Kim Doyun. If an accident like this overlapped with a live broadcast for a newcomer whose performance was still unknown…
Removing it wouldn’t create any major problems with the story. In that case…
A thought flashed through Director Lee Tae-ryun’s mind.
…Go without the set?
Director Lee Tae-ryun let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.
“I must be crazy.”
It seemed he had unconsciously harbored vain expectations after seeing that bizarre blackness Kim Doyun had displayed.
Unless some miraculous event occurred where direction became visible on a completely empty stage with no set, it was impossible.
There was no way a rookie could pull off such a feat.
“There’s no way it’s possible.”
Even as he muttered those words, Director Lee Tae-ryun lifted his head and gazed toward the stage.