Monster Rookie Debut
Sims - Real Life. A game blending life simulation and roguelike genres. What set it apart was the way it doled out scenarios through branching scripts, splintering into tens of thousands of endings based on your choices. But pure randomness would've bored players to tears. Enter perks—the solution. They weeded out nasty events and stacked the odds for smooth sailing. And the most overpowered perk of them all? Smooth Path.
A life on Smooth Path meant everything clicking into place. Sure, success in all you tried was the baseline, but it also meant gliding through without any major disasters. Luck was the real MVP here, and Smooth Path let you tweak that luck on purpose. I wondered how it'd play out in reality, not just the game.
'Future info, huh.'
Even scraps of it were insane. No way that was possible. Naturally, I hit 'Yes' on the message.
As your future career is specified, your future information will be aligned to 'actor'-related content.
Attaching a photo of the future where you can achieve the greatest success.
[Photo]
Smooth Path went silent after the photo. Guess that was the end of the teaser info.
'Wonder what's in the pic.'
I tapped it open, curiosity burning.
"Huh."
A dry chuckle escaped me right away.
'I'm leaving this place?'
The photo showed me at an audition.
'This is Hide Dream.'
Hide Dream, the 2011 drama. A joint production between the broadcaster, an idol agency, and an actor agency. One of the hits with a massive open audition and serious funding. A coming-of-age story about kids at an arts high school. Popularity was off the charts, and it pulled huge ratings even with mostly rookies.
'Tons of actors blew up from this.'
Tap, tap. I zoomed in, just in case there was more to see.
Then I spotted something weird.
'All these audition kids have managers behind them?'
Every kid auditioning had someone standing behind them. Faces were blurry, but they screamed manager.
'Not me, though?'
What did that mean? No way.
'Audition solo, no agency?'
Why?
'Pay grade?'
Rookies had fixed rates anyway. No experience meant peanuts, agency or not. The perk was better odds of passing.
But that wasn't my headache.
'I'm handsome as hell.'
Passing on this face would be the real joke. So the play was debut raw in Hide Dream, jack up my value, then dominate agency negotiations later.
'Or maybe I'm overanalyzing one photo.'
I pocketed my phone and left the bathroom.
Goal: Nail a profile for the open audition.
First up?
'Show off my musical chops.'
Time flew. Saturday rolled around—band practice day.
Since swapping numbers, I'd kept up steady chats with Kim Sujin, firing off replies as needed. I looked up.
"Donghu! Checked it out—it's KBC. Deadline's next week."
"Cool, thanks for the heads-up."
Right after I mentioned doing the Hide Dream audition, Kim Minhyuk dove in to research. Mostly public info, but the effort was gold.
"But seriously, just us three cool?"
"Yeah, no prob."
Shin Yerim eyed the empty music room—just her, Minhyuk, and me. Fair question. Band clubs usually rented pro studios and had an advisor teacher. Us alone? Sketchy.
"I cleared it."
Told the school I needed audition prep space. Everyone bought it, nodding along. Post-delinquent cleanup, teachers trusted me blindly. And yeah, the looks helped. Who wouldn't back a tall, handsome kid chasing stardom?
"Donghu, this camcorder ain't cheap, right?"
Minhyuk eyed the setup, arms jittering. He was on camera duty, and it screamed high-end.
"Eh, y'know... Uncle hooked me up."
Not a lie. Mystery uncle's(?) rent money bought it.
"Rich uncle, huh."
"O-oh, I-I'll h-help t-too."
"...Gangshik, you sure computer club ok with you here?"
When I joined band club, Na Gangshik tagged along quietly.
AAA-game prodigy, why band? His answer was adorable.
"M-might m-make a m-music g-game l-later."
At 14, bros beat distant dreams. Peak friend era. Totally got it.
Bonus: Gangshik had bass talent and even knew chords.
"D-Dad... s-said it'd be f-fun p-playing t-together b-before."
His dad played guitar. Wouldn't teach that? Nah, strategy.
"B-Bass is a-always in d-demand... e-easy job s-security."
Like healers in raid parties. Bass shortage exploited.
'Even meta-gaming instruments for your kid?'
Gangshik's quirks? Dad's genes.
"Anyway, let's roll."
"Roger, I'll film like a pro."
"Backing track's on me!"
"O-dung, du-dung... I g-got it."
Shinbit Middle School Band Club #2—launch.
KBC Drama Production Office.
"Aaaargh!"
Casting director Caddy's screams echoed.
"Need new blood! Fresh, handsome, like... dewy and crisp!!!"
"...At it again. Who're you hunting?"
"Rookie!!!! Super fresh! Green as hell! Like ripe seasonal fruit!"
Bam!
Caddy Shin Youngsook clutched her head.
"Joint prod with station, idols, actors—fine! But don't meddle so hard!"
Hide Dream, arts high school drama. Inevitably needed actors and idols, so agencies on board. Casting some from them? Cool. But...
"Blowing smoke into the open audition? That's our turf!"
They wanted to pack it with their own trainees. Greedy pie-hoarding? Understandable. But open call was broadcaster domain.
Problem: No killer applicants despite the banner.
"Gah! Ack! Urk! Aaaargh!"
Shin Youngsook flailed, no outlet for the rage.
"Director's a riot! 'Station'll cough up a superstar rookie,' he says, then skimps on promo budget?!"
Anger peaked, about to vent on nothing—
"O Team Leader. New app came in. Video attached."
Inbound! She swallowed fury, bolted to the screen.
"Profile? Face shot?"
"Yeah, but... heavy Photoshop?"
"...Sigh. 14-year-old with what skills."
Shin Youngsook deflated at the form. This crap fueled the fire. Fake edits to god-tier handsome? Video'd expose it. Pointless.
"We set HS age min, right? How's a 14yo applying?"
"Claims 170cm."
"...Aish! Tired of these scams!"
But curiosity nibbled. Over-the-top lies begged the reveal.
Clicky-click.
No chit-chat; straight to play.
-I-is this h-how you f-film?
Screen shook like an earthquake. Rookie operator proof. But crisp quality—pricey gear.
-M-me f-filming m-me?
-Nah, solo shots before we jam.
Next: Chubby 14yo boy with bass. Stutter city.
Shin Youngsook's brow furrowed hard.
"This the guy?"
"N-nope. Name tag's Na Gangshik. Applicant's Kim Donghu."
"Fast-forward. Raw footage for audition? Lame."
Almost griped about no edits. 14yo? Whatever.
'No edits means resume might be legit?'
Scrub ahead. Past awkward-smile model girl at keys.
Finally, Kim Donghu.
"Whoa."
Shin Youngsook's tension melted.
"Pass."