No Market for a Seventy-Year-Old Rookie

Filming was proceeding without any major upheaval, apart from Cheon Yua's cameo appearance.

We were at roughly episode five in terms of the drama's shooting order.

And my own portion of the filming had been completed through episode four.

The slight delay in my shooting schedule was due to the writer's whim.

After reviewing the footage from the first episode's shoot, Writer Min had instructed us to stand by for a while.

The first episode's shoot was that moment — the moment the Heavenly Demon had watched me perform.

During those moments, my acting had been brushing against the realm of the divine, so there was really nothing to worry about.

People, after all, tend to bloom most brilliantly under extreme circumstances.

PD Yoo had also seemed quite satisfied, so I was certain the problem wasn't on my end — and so I waited with an easy mind.

Besides, when it came to my shooting pace, I could knock out two to three weeks' worth of footage in a single day, so PD Yoo wasn't in any particular hurry either.

"Honestly, it surprised me. Whatever else is true, you're still a young rookie actor, Si-woo."

"That's right."

"But I never imagined you'd deliver that kind of performance so flawlessly in front of Seo-eun. I certainly didn't expect the romance feel to be completely absent."

"Ah, that."

What had satisfied PD Yoo the most was my eye acting.

He'd acknowledged my acting ability and given me the role, but it seemed he'd worried that once the cameras actually ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rolled, I might not deliver the performance he was hoping for.

Underneath all that strange special-effects makeup, I was a male rookie actor in my twenties, and my scene partner was the "acting member" of a super-popular idol group so hot they'd set the entire K-pop industry ablaze.

He'd been worried that a bit of self-interest — a personal agenda — might seep into the performance.

The "self-interest" in question wasn't anything exotic.

He meant fan devotion, or that perfectly ordinary feeling a man gets when he looks at a beautiful woman — mundane emotions, the kind everyone knows.

My character was in his seventies, and in a situation where he suspected the protagonist might be his own granddaughter. If even a trace of those feelings had crept into the performance, the whole atmosphere could have turned strange.

If my performance had required expressing negative emotions toward my scene partner, there would have been little to worry about.

But the emotions I needed to convey were warm and wistful — arguably closer to affection than anything else.

Emotional acting has always had blurry boundaries; the slightest misstep in expression can completely change the flavor of a scene.

And yet here was a male actor in his twenties, facing a mega-popular girl group star, showing not even a whisper of personal interest — so of course PD Yoo was a little stunned.

"Well, Seo-eun certainly is beautiful."

"Exactly! I honestly thought you were a eunuch. Not even the bare minimum of a flutter — the kind any young man would feel — in your eyes, nothing."

"So that's the problem, is it?"

"No, that's exactly what made it feel like a genuine seventy-year-old. Very satisfying. Writer Min was satisfied too."

"Then that's all that matters, I suppose."

PD Yoo marveled that I'd gone to such lengths, but from where I stood, it wasn't a strange thing at all.

My age was what it was, to begin with.

Mentally, I was practically seventy.

To put it bluntly, Ji Seo-eun is nearly a granddaughter to me.

The granddaughter of my former cult leader — a man utterly besotted with his granddaughter — had been exactly that age.

So no matter how beautiful Ji Seo-eun was, I found I could look at her from a thoroughly paternal point of view.

She simply didn't register as a romantic prospect at all?

Granted, the fact that Ji Seo-eun and I are actually only one year apart is a bit of a shock, but that's just the state I'm in.

"...Hm. This might actually be a problem?"

I hadn't thought much of it at first, but talking it over with PD Yoo left me feeling a little uneasy.

This didn't seem like such a trivial issue after all.

If even a beauty on Ji Seo-eun's level stirs nothing in me — doesn't that mean everyone my own age looks like a granddaughter to me?

At this rate, am I even capable of dating?

Hmm. Hard to say. These bothersome matters can just be tomorrow-me's problem.

"Setting that aside — has anyone reached out to you yet? An agency, say?"

"You think anyone would? Factor in your age. If I ran an agency, I don't think I'd take on a seventy-year-old rookie either."

"Ugh. figures."

"It's not that nobody needs veteran actors, but you, Mr. Baek Si-woo, don't exactly give off a veteran vibe."

"True enough. Sounds like I need more time."

I set aside the problem I didn't want to think about and asked about what really mattered.

The reason I'd wanted to get into a drama, even in a role like this, was to prove my ability to the people in the industry.

But given my age, it seemed no offers were coming in.

An elderly rookie whose future in the industry was doubtful even to himself — naturally, nobody bothered making contact.

It looked like I'd have to wait until the drama wrapped before worrying about the agency question.

"Oh, actually, one place did reach out."

"Who?"

"Cheon Yua. Don't ask me why, but she was asking for your contact information. I cut the call just in case, but..."

"Ah, Cheon Yua."

"Since she doesn't know who you are, it can't be some kind of scouting scheme. Best to wait until your identity is revealed first, and then—"

"No. I'd prefer you keep cutting those calls all the way to the end, please."

"...Wait, why? This is Cheon Yua we're talking about..."

"What reason would someone like Cheon Yua possibly have to contact me? So please, at least until I've secured an agency."

"Will that even work? Someone like Cheon Yua makes even me a little nervous."

"It won't take that long. My acting isn't bad, you know. Once my age is public, people in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the industry will definitely reach out."

"I honestly can't tell what's what with you. Well, if that's what you want, I don't see why not."

Good grief.

What on earth could the Heavenly Demon of this world want with my contact information?

Seriously, chills just ran down my spine.

But PD Yoo couldn't keep my contact details under embargo forever.

No matter how much leverage a PD might have, someone of Cheon Yua's stature is intimidating even to a PD.

So it was enough for PD Yoo to shield my contact information until I'd properly joined an agency.

Because for reasons I couldn't explain, I had the distinct feeling that if contact with Cheon Yua connected right now, I'd be dragged off to some bizarre place — a cult, maybe.

Granted, no such ultra-black-company could exist in this world, but the feeling was deeply unsettling all the same.

"Oh, and about your age — the writer says she'll lay the groundwork so it can be revealed around episode six to eight. That's all you need to know. Be careful until then."

"That's the plan? Well... it does feel like eyes have been drifting my way lately, now that you mention it. I'll be careful until the end."

To be honest, I'd been sensing someone tailing me fairly often these days.

Probably a reporter?

The drama was such a hot topic that reporters were a frequent sight on set, and if a few of them had spotted me commuting in an assistant director's car, it would hardly be surprising.

Finding something odd and digging into it unconditionally is simply a reporter's nature.

I'd been diligently shaking them off just in case, but it was a real nuisance.

Still, with my level of skill, I figured I could hold out easily until around episode eight aired.

"The premiere's almost here anyway, so it won't be a long wait."

Reporters or not, once everything was out in the open and I'd done the round of interviews, they'd lose interest in me entirely.

By then, I'd hopefully have a decent agency of my own, too.

So all I had to do was focus on acting and let time do its work.

Up to this point, I truly believed everything was unfolding exactly as I intended.

When the shooting progress reached around episode five, the production press conference for Genius Copywriter, Yoon Seoeun was held.

Clearly intending to ride the press conference buzz straight into the premiere, the event had been scheduled a mere two days before the first broadcast.

Naturally, I wasn't in attendance.

Partly because my role hardly warranted a seat at a production press conference, but mostly because all the spotlight was being funneled onto the three young leads.

After all, the three young leads were the ones who would carry the drama's popularity, so they needed to be prioritized.

The production press conference had generated quite a stir.

The name recognition and popularity of the three lead actors went without saying, and with the network pushing hard behind them, the promotional power was considerable.

Between the press conference and the premiere, our drama swallowed up a hefty share of the entertainment news cycle.

So this is what the push behind a drama that's expected to hit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠looks like?

Factor in the lead actors' acting chops, and you couldn't even picture a scenario where this drama flopped.

And so the press conference came and went, and two days later—

The glorious premiere was right in front of us.

And at the very moment of that premiere, I was — absurdly — sitting in front of the television with my whole family, waiting for the broadcast to begin.

"You're all going to watch this? Together?"

"Why? The future super-idol me wants to watch a drama starring my senior Seo-eun. Got a problem with that?"

"Ugh, you really..."

"Son, your sister's home early for once. How about we let her watch what she wants?"

"W-well, if Father puts it that way, I suppose..."

"Good. And you should come sit with us too, son. It's been a while since we all gathered like this."

"Yes, of course."

As it happened, today was my father's regular day off from the shop, and Mom's Daughter Moron had finished practice early as well.

Normally she'd have bolted straight to her part-time job the second practice ended, but after my warning she'd quit, which was why she was home early.

And so, with the whole family assembled, Moron turned on the TV, and things unfolded the way they did.

Playing at being an idol trainee, she'd apparently decided she would watch the premiere of a drama starring Ji Seo-eun — an idol senior many times over.

I distinctly never told them I was in this drama, yet somehow my entire family had gathered to watch my television debut live without knowing it.

"By the way, aren't you supposed to be dieting?"

"Hmph. I'm allowed to eat a bit more, actually. Thanks to the calisthenics Dad taught me, I've dropped a whole kilogram, mind you."

"...Calisthenics?"

"Oh, that. Actually, it was our son who taught him. Said it was good stuff, so I passed it on to my daughter."

"It did seem a bit much for us, though. Needs a lot of space. It's a relief Ha-young can do it at the practice room, I suppose."

"Oh, really?"

I'd scolded Mom's Daughter Moron — whose shameless shoveling of my father's homemade fried shrimp was honestly repulsive to watch — telling her to go on a diet, and she declared that she didn't need one.

Apparently the weight had started coming off lately, giving her some breathing room.

But the reason was the Spirit Body Softening Technique I'd taught our father — and hearing that made my blood boil.

Our parents weren't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even the ones enjoying the benefits, and this brat dared to reap them?

I was thoroughly annoyed, but this too had its uses — better to leverage it into persuading my parents.

"You can see it just from how much weight she's lost, can't you? This thing works. So Mother, Father, you should try it too if you can. Even just twenty or thirty minutes a day."

"Well, if the results are that good, there's no reason not to."

"Right, shall we give it a try ourselves, then?"

Thanks to Moron serving as a live demonstration specimen, my parents finally seemed to show a flicker of interest.

They'd reached the age where their health was becoming a genuine concern, so the timing couldn't have been better.

Though if the two of them were going to practice the Spirit Body Softening Technique in comfort, it looked like we'd need to move to a bigger place first.

"Oh, it's starting."

Just as my parents were warming to the idea of the Softening Technique, the drama began.