Rookie but One-in-a-Million Actor 8: Audition
"Have you guys heard that rumor? There's this actor whose handwriting changes with every role."
"Isn't that Actor Jo Seung-wa?"
"Spot on. It went viral online back in the day."
It was just another intermediate class at BV Acting Academy. About two weeks had passed since they'd submitted their first-round audition applications.
Jeong O-seok pulled up some footage on the monitor.
Whoa.
Ha Moo-young couldn't help but gasp. The handwriting varied dramatically depending on the character. If you didn't know better, you'd swear they were written by different people.
"This is what I mean by details. Sure, the letters and content show up on screen, so the director might've directed it. But this one's a close-up crop from a capture. I think the actor nailed it."
"Impressive."
From a naive country boy to a corrupt prosecutor, and even an ordinary office worker—the handwriting alone captured the essence of each character's life.
"These little things come together to build a character's entire life."
Moo-young perked up at O-seok's words.
A character's life! That was exactly the path he needed to walk.
"So today, we're practicing basic walks. Not catwalk modeling, though—tailored to character expression."
He scribbled on the blackboard as he spoke.
[34-year-old Kim Cheol-su, who hates company dinners]
[78-year-old Kwon Mal-soon, obsessed with flower arranging]
[21-year-old Park Min-seok, who got a military exemption]
And more like that.
These were characters ripe for nailing the details. O-seok gestured for the students to stand.
"Walk from one end of the practice room to the other. Feel free to use lines or props. We'll start with our Mr. Cheol-su. Go for it!"
The class wore expressions split between awkwardness and intrigue. Ki Yu-chan went first.
He slouched, drained all tension from his body, and shuffled forward.
"Ugh, this sucks. For real."
"Next!"
Kang Bora followed. She looked just as hesitant, walking with the same limp looseness as Yu-chan. O-seok watched silently from the screen, but his disappointment was clear.
No imagination.
Imagination was everything for an actor—he'd drilled that in like the national anthem. But everyone was just mimicking surface-level images from the descriptions.
Yeah. It's not easy.
Anyone could act with lines and expressions. Practicing what shows up on camera made sense.
"Next, Moo-young."
But to rise above that, you had to dig deeper. O-seok mentally clocked the time. Classes would end with the new semester in two weeks, and everyone would scatter. He wanted to cram in as much as possible before then.
"Hmm~"
A little hum caught his ear. O-seok shifted from the screen to Moo-young himself.
"What the...? Him?"
"He hates company dinners?"
Light steps. Shoulders slightly slumped, but quicker than usual—the vibe of an office worker eager to clock out.
"Ha!"
O-seok burst out laughing. That's it!
While everyone fixated on "hates," Moo-young had pondered why. Plenty of reasons: annoying coworkers, exhaustion, a date waiting, hobby time, whatever.
"Great job, Moo-young!"
Moo-young had chosen the thrill of after-work fun making Cheol-su dread the dinner. Always one step ahead!
Right as O-seok's admiration peaked—
Bzzz.
Moo-young's pocket vibrated. Without breaking stride, he checked it naturally. Put him in a suit, and he'd blend right into Gangnam Station rush hour.
"Oh."
He stopped, face falling. The office worker vibe evaporated. Cheol-su was gone; Moo-young was back.
"What's up?"
"Teacher. This means I passed, right?"
"Huh?"
"Got a text saying I passed the first round."
"No way! For real?"
Everyone forgot practice and swarmed him. O-seok was jumping inside but cleared his throat to maintain dignity.
"Ahem. Quiet down, everyone."
"When's round two?"
"Next weekend."
"Congrats!"
No one listened. Hyeong-ju grumbled, nitpicking.
"Must be easy since it's a web drama."
First acceptance anyone had gotten. With tensions already high, no way sweet words came from him.
"Still, it's city-sponsored."
"What does a web drama even pay? Compare that to MBV or SBC competition. Ah, congrats of course—just sayin'."
He's hopeless, Yu-chan thought, forcing a smile at Hyeong-ju. Not wrong, but damn, he said it like a jerk. Talented at that, at least.
"Man, I should've gone for that one too. Public broadcast was too ambitious from the start. Smart move by Moo-young. Strategic. He's got brains."
That's when Bora, who'd been quiet, sighed and spoke up.
"It's not like I flunked because it was public broadcast."
"Ugh, picking fights again."
"I passed."
She averted her eyes—specifically Yu-chan's.
"...Announcement was yesterday."
"Whoa, really?"
Yu-chan, Bora, and Hyeong-ju had applied to the same drama. Meaning one out of three made it. Hyeong-ju was whatever, but telling Yu-chan felt awkward.
"Why didn't you say?"
"...Slipped my mind."
Awkward silence. O-seok clapped to liven things up.
"Alright! Any more good news? Moo-young and Bora, stick around after class. I'll help prep for auditions. When's round two?"
"Next weekend."
"Same."
"...Exactly when?"
Moo-young and Bora glanced at each other, then chimed in unison.
"Saturday at two."
* * *
Moo-young arrived at Square Film's building in Mapo, dressed to the nines by Im Jun-ho.
"Smaller than I thought."
"They specialize in web dramas."
"Hey, the coat!"
Jun-ho handed over a fresh outerwear from the back seat—still tagged, no doubt swiped from his family's building supply.
"Tuck the tag inside."
"Thanks, but I'm good."
"Your call. But who shows up to an audition with frayed sleeves? Just wear it."
Moo-young gave up arguing and took the coat. Schedules overlapped, so O-seok couldn't come. Scale and time spent made Bora the pick, naturally...
"Not bummed?"
"About what?"
"You'd be here solo without me. Subway, bus, the works."
Moo-young grinned. Last night, over late-night snacks, O-seok had said:
—Just do you, Moo-young. I know you'll kill it.
That full trust in his eyes. No regrets. Plus, he'd seen the flower pollen bursting from Moo-young even before applying. Good things were coming.
"Got you here. That's enough. Let's go."
"Damn, why am I more nervous? Bora headed to the station?"
"Yeah, MBV. Close by, so we'll meet after."
"Heh heh. Nice."
Jun-ho bounced; Moo-young tsked. Obvious sparks between Bora and Yu-chan. Even I see it.
Screech—
"Whoa."
Jun-ho flung open Square Film's door with gusto—then froze. Moo-young peeked over his shoulder.
"Hello, uh, good day. Participant number 43—"
"Uh, auditioning now. Drinks after? Heh?"
"No way, he said that? Hilarious!"
Pure Namdaemun Market chaos. Tight space didn't help, but the real issue: zero common ground among the crowd. Grandpas with white hair mingling with kids.
"You sure you applied right?"
"Uh..."
"To a drama?"
Moo-young shrugged. Jun-ho shook his head. A staffer approached.
"Auditionees?"
"Yes. Ha Moo-young."
"Let me check. Yep. Number 76. Wait here."
Moo-young stuck on his 76 sticker and paced the crowded lobby. No seats.
"I'll wait in the car?"
"Nah."
Jun-ho stood by. Moo-young felt bad, willing time to fly. Finally, two on the dot.
"Auditions starting! Numbers 1 through 5, follow me!"
The bored crowd stirred. Acting audition, yet baseball bats and fishing rods?
"Hungry? Grab something?"
"I'm good."
First audition jitters hit Moo-young hard. Time dragged—
"76 through 80, get ready!"
His turn. Jun-ho fussed over sleeve and hair, patted his shoulder, winked playfully. Moo-young winked back.
"Enter in order."
Third-floor conference room: five chairs, six judges.
"Sit."
Groups were same-age despite the mix. Team leader flipped files, whispered to staff.
Key supporting role in episode one, flagged by the CEO. All applicants 23 or under for the high schooler part.
"Self-intros. Start with 76."
"Hello. Ha Moo-young."
"Yes, Mr. Ha. No acting experience?"
No experience, high score? Non-video team leader tilted his head.
"No. But I'll give my all to any role."
What 75 before him had said. Team leader smiled routinely.
"Address section's blank?"
Casual toss. Shocking reply.
"No home."
"Pardon?"
Staff and neighbors glanced. Good-looking guy, homeless?
"Details if I make it."
"Haha. Sure..."
Moo-young's light joke got a pass. High school guest character nearly locked: poverty and youth.
Team leader doodled, then asked.
"Look, weird saying this, but if things are tough, grab an extra part-time gig. Web drama one-off supporting? Pay's meh for the time. Better hourly elsewhere."
Extras paid steady per hour, even if grueling.
But Moo-young was firm.
"Anyone start acting for the money?"
Pure truth in his voice.
"Not me. If not this, I'd die trying."