The Catfish Auditionee and Script Immersion
The public audition for Hyadream, predicted by reporters to last about two weeks, wrapped up in just one—sparking endless curiosity. There was only one reason for something like that to happen.
'A catfish showed up.' Like a random catfish bursting into a pond and devouring all the loaches. The audition had devolved into a scripted play with the winner already decided.
'But we didn't even see it?' If someone that talented had appeared, they should've pinged on the reporters' radars. Yet somehow, none of them had even sensed the catfish's presence.
But in a way, that made sense. The audition applicants planted by various agencies started from number 2000 onward. So the reporters hadn't bothered waiting around for the early numbers, expecting nothing special.
"Whoa... that kid's insanely handsome."
Except for one person. Daily Happy, an online media company just starting to grow. Being small meant they had to move faster than anyone else, and their rookie reporter gaped at Kim Donghu.
Her eyes, already sharpened from tagging along with seniors to countless celebrity shoots, widened further at this kid just beginning to bloom. It was like glimpsing a whole new world. She nearly bolted over to chat him up and hand him her card.
But the boy dashed off with his friends.
'He's definitely getting in.' The reporter immediately called her senior.
"Senior, I think I've sniffed out a scoop."
"..."
Bam! Bam! Bam! The sandbag thudded harshly, yet barely swayed—hinting at the devastating power behind each strike.
"Donghu, you've definitely improved. You gotta go pro in fighting, UFC! You know, like that Stun Gun guy? You could be just like him!"
Baek Sangha, owner of the Pilsung Gym, was in awe.
"Striking, grappling—whatever! Wanna line up a match right now? Start by eating up the local gyms?"
Having watched Kim Donghu since elementary school, Baek Sangha was convinced.
'That kid's championship belt is guaranteed.'
He could even vaguely picture it: Kim Donghu dominating multiple weight classes with a grin! He wanted to turn that vision into reality ASAP.
But the world doesn't always go as planned.
"Coach, I probably won't be able to come for a while."
Thud! Baek Sangha froze like he'd been struck by lightning.
"Wh-why? Is it 'cause I taught you CQC?"
"No, that's not—"
"Donghu, I told you fighting's better the more styles you learn. I taught you for experience... sure, it's tough, but..."
"No, Coach, Coach? Listen to me—"
"Is it taekwondo? Donghu, even with big movements, you need killer kicks, so learning this is..."
"Coach! That's not it! I passed the audition!"
Baek Sangha's words halted. Audition? What audition?
'Oh yeah, he mentioned trying out for some drama.'
He'd actually gone? 'I thought he was just saying it to psych himself up...'
To test if he was truly committed to reaching UFC heights. He'd assumed it was a ploy like that, but it was real—
"So I won't be able to come for a bit. Sorry."
Thud! That day, the 193cm, 130kg beast—who could've challenged UFC heavyweight if not for his injury, who was dead set on dragging Kim Donghu into fighting, whose shark-like face made kids cry on sight—
"...No way."
Baek Sangha's world crumbled.
Right after Character Director Team Lead Shin Youngsook sent Kim Donghu his acceptance text, Yi Minhwa got the casting confirmation for her lead and dove straight back into writing. More like unleashed a torrent.
She revised every existing script in a divine frenzy.
'Not just the leads' struggles and hardships—gotta show musicality too.'
Diverse music. Pop mattered, but an arts high school full of just that? Ridiculous.
'This'll be a totally fresh character.'
His fourteen-year-old frame was tall and built enough to handle it, no issues. Voice a bit youthful? Who cares when you're belting rock like that.
The key was his insane looks and acting chops.
Tap-tap-tap! It took ten days to craft a character just for Kim Donghu—one only he could pull off. Four more to review the script. Total of fourteen days later, she raced to KBC Broadcasting Station.
"Final script's done. Let's roll with this."
At last, the definitive draft was born.
"Time for script reading?"
Yi Minhwa's most anticipated moment had arrived.
The day I got the script reading date notice.
I lied to Kim Sujin's question on purpose. No special reason—just wanted to tease her a bit.
'We'll see each other at script reading anyway.'
This much joking should be fine. With that thought, I checked the script that had arrived by mail.
Hyadream Writer: Yi Minhwa
Just that on the first page sent a thrill surging through me. Me, a regular guy until days ago, now holding a script and prepping for reading.
'But actually performing it will feel totally different.'
Even with my perks, memorizing lines was a whole new ballgame. All my prior acting gigs had been short-term too.
'Time to become a real actor.'
Script study for that. An exciting moment.
Ding!
My phone chimed. Sender: [Sims - The Real Life], my perk app.
To aid smooth script memorization, Immersion function added to scripts.
Holding the desired script and saying "Immersion" will activate it.
New feature update? 'No reason not to try it.'
I grabbed the script.
"Immersion."
In that instant, my world changed.
In the end, Mom smashed the jar.
"I can't live in this damn house anymore!"
Grandma, who always droned on about how much a single earthenware stand cost and how many billions the soybean paste inside was worth, fell silent.
After twenty years of daughter-in-law drudgery, Mom was exhausted beyond measure.
Dad, the patriarchal fool, believed dumping money on the family made it run itself. Grandma was a hedgehog who thought her precious son was getting screwed over.
Fool and hedgehog. Mom slowly crumbled and pierced between them.
The jar was her escape button.
As always, she opened one to check for maggots—and exploded at Dad's jab about fussing over it so much.
A scream of who the hell do you think it's for?! echoed through the neighborhood.
Shouts flew back and forth after that.
And the finale came from Mom's lips.
"Yangban daughter-in-law? Bullshit! I've never been treated like one—worse than that damn jar! Why the hell should I keep living like this?!"
Crash!
More jars shattered after that. Unclear who broke which—several exploded.
And something inside me shattered too.
Crack.
"Jay, let's go."
Jay. Now-Jay. My name. I think I had another once, but I lost it when we left with Mom.
"This is our home from now on."
The day we entered some nameless villa's basement. Mom looked down at me with a drained smile.
Discarding the past and facing the future had worn her out. Maybe she'd lost something back there too.
'Ah.'
That was when I first thought I had to protect Mom. I needed to get famous, earn big money.
I chose music for that. Becoming a shining idol meant absurd cash.
And something stirred inside me then.
A nameless emotion. It whispered when school ended and other parents picked up their kids: don't hang with those. Wrong pond—don't mix.
That's when my emotion named itself disgust.
Disgust stuck by me always. Even when I, who never attended academies, snagged the school music award—it stayed close.
'Untalented trash.'
Why do those incompetents grin like that? Parents beaming over participation trophies—do they even know real happiness?
'Bragging about no prize money? What's to be proud of?'
I couldn't understand. It repulsed me.
Crash!
Something breaking at home again. I wasn't even startled anymore.
As long as no one got hurt. Cleaning shards was routine.
'Where can I get famous with music?'
High school job would be nice. That's when I found news about Galaxy Arts High.
Special admissions meant money, school, fame. With my contest wins, I sailed in easier than most.
That's when I discovered rock. Not mainstream enough for major, but its raw screams vented my knots.
'I'll drop this eventually too.'
Then I met the nauseating ones. Spouting dreams and hopes, rallying their inferior kind: Hyadream?
How could bottom-rankers dream big?
'Scum like this doesn't belong in school.'
I wanted to clear them out. Prove it: talent decides everything.
Crushing them would finally ease my gut.
Crash.
Something shattered again.
'It's fine.'
I ignored it. Cleaning shards was familiar.
Whoosh!
With the shards swept away, I snapped back to reality.
"Wh-what the...?"
...What the hell just happened?