Chapter 246
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 246
Chapter Title: Mirror
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Seojun got out of the car, bag in hand. As he closed the door, the passenger-side window rolled down. Lee Minjun, sitting in the driver's seat, said with a smile.
“Call Mom before you come home tomorrow.”
“Okay!”
“And don’t give your hyungs and Samchon a hard time, alright?”
“I won’t. I’m not a kid.”
He would be a high schooler next year, but in Lee Minjun’s eyes, he still seemed like a little kid. Minjun chuckled and nodded.
“Alright. Have fun.”
“You drive safe too, Dad.”
Waving goodbye to his father, Seojun turned and headed for Lee Jiseok’s building. He punched in the passcode Jiseok had given him, entered, and took out his phone as he rode the elevator.
>Jiseok: …….
>Jiseok: You’re really going to text me like this?
<ㅋㅋㅋ
*Beep-boop-beep.*
The sound of the digital lock echoed, and the front door before Seojun opened.
“Ring the doorbell. The doorbell.”
Lee Jiseok stood there in comfortable clothes. Seojun grinned and said.
“Wasn’t it fun?”
“Is this how you play with your friends? You middle schooler?”
“Ahahaha. Yes.”
Judging by Jiseok’s chuckles, it seemed he found it fun too. Seojun followed him inside, taking off his shoes.
“Looks like Seojun’s the last to arrive.”
“I guess so.”
“Jongho-samchon! Dohun-hyung! When did you get here?”
“We’ve been here since the crack of dawn.”
With a weary look, Lee Jiseok glanced at Kim Jongho, who was sprawled out on the sofa, and Park Dohun, who was working on a 1,000-piece puzzle he’d received from a fan. Seeing them act like it was their own home made his blood boil.
“I didn’t have anything else to do, so I came early.”
“Me too. Seojun, aren’t you hot? Should I turn down the temperature?”
“I’m fine.”
Once Seojun had followed Jiseok to drop off his bag in the room he’d be staying in, Park Dohun handed him a glass of orange juice. The cool drink seemed to wash away the heat, though the air conditioner in the living room certainly helped.
Seeing that Seojun had caught his breath, Kim Jongho sat up from his slouched position on the sofa.
“Should we take a look at the script first?”
“Yeah. I’ve been dying of curiosity for a whole month.”
From Jongho-samchon to Jiseok-hyung and Dohun-hyung, their gleaming eyes showed just how curious they were. Seojun scratched his cheek, looking a bit sheepish.
“It’s in my bag. I’ll go get it.”
“Alright. Hurry back.”
While Seojun went to get the scripts from his bag, Kim Jongho stood up and sat at the table. Park Dohun and Lee Jiseok followed suit, gathering around it.
‘What exactly is a sofa to Koreans? Why sit on the floor when there’s a perfectly good sofa to sit on?’
Seojun, who returned quickly with the scripts, glanced at the empty, plush sofa and the three actors sitting on the floor, then habitually found a spot on the floor for himself.
“I made copies at the company.”
“That’s our Seojun!”
One script per person.
As Seojun brought out four scripts, Kim Jongho and Lee Jiseok, who had been growling at each other over who would read it first, broke into bright smiles. The three actors took the scripts from Seojun and immediately turned to the first page.
“I’ll read it well.”
“By the way, have you read the original novel?”
“I read it as soon as you told me about it. But finding the book was the harder part.”
“I barely managed to buy one from a warehouse.”
“They said it wasn’t a bestseller.”
“Really?”
“I see.”
Noticing the actors were completely absorbed in the scripts, Seojun fell silent, and the living room quieted down.
The soft rustle of flipping pages filled the air.
The actors scanned the script with sharp eyes. Seojun, feeling strangely tense, fiddled with his fingers and rubbed the back of his neck.
‘Is this how directors feel?’
With every turn of the page, Seojun found himself subconsciously studying their expressions.
Dohun-hyung was nodding as he read; Jongho-samchon’s expression was unchanging, completely focused; and Jiseok-hyung would occasionally pause, his eyes fixed on one spot.
Unable to decipher their reactions, Seojun grew a little anxious.
It wasn't a very long play, so it didn't take them long to read the script. Lee Jiseok was the first to put his down and speak.
“It’s well-written.”
“Really?”
“This is your first time writing a script, isn’t it? It’s incredibly well-written.”
“Yeah. It’s really good.”
Kim Jongho and Park Dohun nodded in agreement with Jiseok. Even with an original novel as a base, it was quite well-written for a first attempt.
“That’s not to say it’s without its problems, though.”
“What are they?”
Seojun’s eyes sparkled.
The whole reason he came to Jiseok’s house today was to find those ‘problems.’ The three actors smiled, finding it endearing that he wasn’t discouraged by the mention of issues but was eager to fix them.
“There’s too much description.”
“Description?”
At Jiseok’s words, Seojun reread the script. *Hmm. Is that so?* Seeing Seojun tilt his head in confusion, Jiseok continued.
“It’s very much in your acting style. You wrote the stage directions for the psychiatrist and the other characters assuming you’d be the one playing them, didn’t you?”
‘…How did he know?’
Hit right on the mark, Seojun’s eyes darted around before he nodded.
“What do you mean?”
At Park Dohun’s question, Kim Jongho, who had been flipping through the script from the beginning again, also nodded.
“For example, look at the psychiatrist’s stage directions here. A direction that could be expressed with a single word like ‘calmly’ is written out with everything from the direction of their gaze to the movement of their hands and feet.”
Just as Kim Jongho said, Seojun’s script contained not only the ‘necessary stage directions’ that conveyed the adapter’s intent but also some that made one wonder, ‘This too?’
“Doesn’t it seem like this is how Seojun would play the psychiatrist?”
Park Dohun reread the script. Imagining Seojun acting as the psychiatrist while following the stage directions, the image came to him naturally.
‘I see.’
A director envisions the best possible scene. They cast actors who fit that scene and call for retakes and edits until they achieve it.
For a master actor like Seojun, the ‘best possible scene’ he could imagine was one where the psychiatrist, and all the other roles, were played by ‘actor Lee Seojun’—himself.
‘It’s not that he’s overconfident; Seojun is just that good at acting.’
A production where every actor, from the lead to the supporting roles and even the extras, possessed ‘Lee Seojun-level’ skill.
‘…I’d like to see that.’
The thought came to him unbidden.
While Park Dohun was imagining the scene where the villain Jin Natra faced off against the archer Go Joowon, Lee Jiseok and Kim Jongho spread the script on the table and marked it with a pen.
“Here. This is too much interference.”
“Here too. I get the intention, but a simple glance would be enough.”
Seeing at least one red mark on every page, Seojun let out a small groan.
“Is it that bad?”
He looked like a puppy with drooping ears. Lee Jiseok shook his head and replied.
“You’re so good at immersing yourself in your roles that the protagonist and the other characters all have distinct differences. If it’s acted out exactly like this, it would be a perfect play.”
Seojun had written down every single movement, from one to ten, that he would make if he were playing each role. With an actor as acclaimed as Seojun, the play would surely be perfect.
“But it’ll be hard for the kids to pull off.”
Even for Jiseok, following such detailed stage directions wouldn’t be easy. It was like forcing an actor into a perfectly crafted mold.
‘They might manage the first scene somehow, but after that… I don’t know…’
It would be difficult to maintain that initial atmosphere until the end of the play.
“Besides, you wouldn’t want to act with a script like this either, would you, Seojun?”
In short, the script Seojun had written left no freedom for the actors, from beginning to end.
“Hmm.”
Taking the script back, Seojun nodded.
He was satisfied with it because he had written down every detail of the performance he wanted to give, but if An Daho had brought him a script like this, Seojun would have turned it down.
He had wanted a perfect script, and it was perfect, but only to his own liking.
“I’ll have to fix it.”
“Still, the story flows smoothly. The dialogue doesn’t feel out of place either.”
“We might need to think more about the use of props, though.”
Lee Jiseok, Kim Jongho, and Park Dohun gave Seojun appropriate feedback on what was needed or what should be revised in his script. They offered advice, suggesting alternative methods and giving him options to choose from. Seojun nodded eagerly, taking notes.
“No! If you do it that way, the people in the back won’t be able to see!”
“But this is necessary! Besides, the hall at Yeoul Arts Middle School is small enough to cover the back rows!”
Well, he had expected this.
“Should we get dinner started then?”
Seeing Lee Jiseok and Kim Jongho bickering as they did every day, Park Dohun smiled and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
“Already?”
Surprised, Seojun checked the clock and saw it was already dinnertime. He had been so engrossed in the script that he’d lost all track of time.
“Dohun-hyung, I’ll help.”
“Thanks. Jongho-samchon bought some Hanwoo. Let’s grill that.”
“I’ll wash the lettuce and perilla leaves.”
“Okay.”
Seojun expertly washed the lettuce and perilla leaves under running water. Park Dohun, who was taking out containers of side dishes from Jiseok’s fridge and transferring them to plates, asked.
“Seojun, have you ever cooked before?”
“Yes. I cook often at home. I even have a Korean cuisine certification.”
“Huh?”
The casual question received an unexpected answer. As the surprised Park Dohun stared at him, Seojun smiled and said.
“Daho-hyung was studying for the Korean cuisine certification, and it looked fun, so I studied with him.”
An Daho had been studying in his spare time to cook Korean food for Seojun during their overseas schedules.
Seojun had caught him in the act. He became interested as well, and somehow, the two of them ended up studying for and taking the theory and practical exams together.
The result: they both passed.
The look on An Daho’s face as he looked at his and Seojun’s Korean cuisine certifications had been… complicated.
“Really? In that case, want to try making the soybean paste stew?”
“Leave it to me!”
Park Dohun, who had been about to open a package of store-bought stew, stopped and asked Seojun. Seojun beamed and nodded eagerly.
Seeing the two youngsters bustling between the kitchen and the living room to prepare dinner, the two adults stopped their bickering. Lee Jiseok and Kim Jongho also rolled up their sleeves and helped with the meal.
Slices of Hanwoo sirloin were placed on the heated electric grill.
*Sizzle.*
Kim Jongho, holding the tongs, flipped the meat at the perfect moment. He placed the well-cooked pieces on Seojun’s and Park Dohun’s plates before focusing again on grilling. Lee Jiseok grumbled as he picked up and ate the cooked beef himself.
“Speaking of which, wasn’t there another play being made from a novel?”
“Ah, I got the script. The Juror, was it?”
“I got it too. Did you decide to do it?”
At Park Dohun’s question, Lee Jiseok shook his head.
“I’m starting my next project soon. Are you going to do it?”
“No, I turned it down too. Seojun, didn’t you get the script?”
Seojun, who was making a lettuce wrap, nodded.
“Yeah. I read the original, but I don’t think there was a suitable role for me, so it probably wasn’t sent. The judge, prosecutor, and lawyer are all older, and minors can’t be jurors.”
“That’s true. What about you, Samchon?”
“I signed the contract.”
Seojun, his mouth full of a lettuce wrap, widened his eyes. Lee Jiseok and Park Dohun also paused, their hands hovering over the meat. Kim Jongho grinned and said.
“I’m going to be in The Juror.”
“Oh. Hasn’t it been a long time since you’ve done a play, Jongho-hyung?”
“What role is it?”
Seojun asked, his eyes sparkling. A play with Jongho-samchon! The last one had been ten years ago, and he had been too young to see it then.
“Park Wonkyung’s father.”
At Kim Jongho’s words, Lee Jiseok, Park Dohun, and Seojun all nodded in unison.
“That suits you well.”
“I agree.”
“It’s a perfect fit.”
“You brats!”
The three actors burst into laughter at Kim Jongho’s remark.
“We’ll have to go see it then. Should we go together?”
“I’d love to.”
Seojun nodded at Park Dohun’s suggestion. Lee Jiseok, who was about to answer after taking a bite of the soybean paste stew, widened his eyes.
“Why is this so delicious?”
Curious about Jiseok’s reaction, Kim Jongho also tried a spoonful of the stew and was shocked.
“You’re right. This is really good!”
“Seojun made it.”
“Huh?”
“Seojun has a Korean cuisine certification, you know.”
At Park Dohun’s words, a doubly surprised Lee Jiseok and Kim Jongho stared at Seojun, who just laughed, “Ahahaha.”
***
A few days before the start of the second semester at Yeoul Arts Middle School.
“It’s done!”
Seojun looked with deep satisfaction at the neatly printed script.
[Mirror]
[Original Work: Choi Daye]
[Adapted by: Lee Seojun]
He had finally completed the script for the play, *Mirror*.
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