Flames of the Audition
Early June. The internal audition for Actor's Yard theater troupe's 2013 third-quarter regular performance, Saw the Pheasant?, had begun.
The two large practice rooms on the basement first floor of the Actor's Yard building were buzzing with dozens of members. With the exception of those with absolutely unavoidable schedules, every troupe member was in attendance. Incidentally, if an external schedule clashed with the internal audition date, they would accommodate by postponing it by up to three days out of consideration. However, for each day delayed, one point would be deducted from the final score. Even if it was due to unavoidable external commitments, it effectively gave some actors more preparation time than others, so this was an unavoidable measure. It was proof of how much they prioritized the value of "fair competition" above all else.
The more one learned about it, the more one realized just how systematic the whole setup was.
From head to toe, every actor gathered in the practice rooms was tense in their own unique way.
"……."
"Hoo…."
Some silently steeled themselves, others let out deep sighs to calm their pounding hearts. Still others murmured lines under their breath with eyes gently closed.
"…That bastard escaped from the hospital like that, so we couldn't follow up right away. It was such a shame. And to think it was you all along."
"I should've stabbed the old man first. My mom died without saying a word, but the old bastard lived large…."
Scenes straight out of any audition hall.
And amid it all, of course, there were those overflowing with leisure rather than tension.
"Ahem."
Baek Woojin was one such actor. He hummed a soft tune under his breath, slowly scanning the audition scene around him.
Habits ingrained over years as part of one's life don't vanish easily. Even after more than three years without auditions since Wanted, they lingered.
Walking through the audition space, he observed firsthand how the other actors competing against him prepared—watching what they rehearsed right before their turn, glimpsing their character analyses through their lines and quick run-throughs, and comparing them to his own. These unconscious habits from his trainee days, honed through five hundred auditions, remained intact.
Far from nervous for this long-awaited audition experience, a thrilling excitement bubbled up instead.
Woojin thus passed the waiting time in his own quiet way.
Moments later—
"Auditions starting!"
Oh Tae-hyeop burst into the packed practice room, shattering the silence with his booming voice. Jeong Jae-min and Ma Seol-ah followed behind him. The three of them formed the judging panel for this audition.
"As always, the eve of the festival is ablaze with fireworks. Good luck to all our hardworking members who've prepared diligently."
Jeong Jae-min opened with those words, and Ma Seol-ah followed up to rally the participants.
"I believe a playwright's words are merely the foundation of the stage—it's the actors' art that brings the play to life. On this occasion, I'd like to thank all the performers who breathe soul into the text. Looking forward to your best!"
Clap clap clap clap clap.
The actors' vigorous applause opened the audition.
They moved to the second-floor theater, and the curtain finally rose on the stage called "audition."
"Shall we start with number one?"
"Yes, Representative. Numbers 1 through 11 are applicants for the 'Young Man' role."
"Okay, let's dive right in."
Another distinctive feature of Actor's Yard auditions: open observation auditions. Applicants went on stage one by one in the order they'd drawn, performing the designated scene as requested by the judges, followed by a brief Q&A. Crucially, all other participants watched the entire process live.
The performer acted under full spotlights on the actual stage, while competitors observed from the audience seats. Truly "open" and "observed" in every sense. A unique spectacle and advantage found only in theater troupe auditions.
This should be fun.
Woojin had luckily drawn number 7. Mid-to-late slot—not bad. His heart pounded even harder.
Soon enough—
"Designated scene, beginning."
Number 1 started their performance. In that instant, Woojin's sharp gaze flashed.
It wasn't just theater. In any field, one often sensed territorialism from those established enough to be called veterans. The slang term "old-timers," for instance.
"I get Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim, but Baek Woojin? That's a bit much. He's not even an official member… Please reconsider."
It was one day before the third-quarter regular audition— the day Ma Seol-ah had briefed Woojin and Lee Kang-sik, and then relayed the same to the troupe members.
Choi Yeong-do, a fifth-year veteran at Actor's Yard and hitting exactly ten years in Daehak-ro theater overall, had taken the lead and visited the representative's office.
"So you're saying we're just giving Woojin the same audition chance as everyone else?"
"I still don't think that's right. We know he's a top star now, but he's never done theater before, right? A total newbie taking an audition spot just because he's famous? No theater experience at all, skipping trainee status straight to the regular show? That's not fair."
"Sigh…."
"I'm not the only one who thinks this. Most will agree. Honestly, isn't it special treatment?"
Choi Yeong-do vented his frustrations rooted in Baek Woojin's name.
Jeong Jae-min sighed faintly, his brow furrowing slightly, but he maintained a calm, gentle demeanor.
If opinions clashed with troupe members, the representative's role was to persuade with logic, not authority based on rank. Coercive orders might yield short-term compliance but plant ticking time bombs of resentment.
Having lived through Actor's Yard's evolution from past to present and solidified its current system, Jeong Jae-min always sought a horizontal, not vertical, relationship between leadership and members.
So he listened patiently to Choi Yeong-do's passionate outburst before speaking.
"Yeong-do. I understand your thoughts. May I share mine now?"
"Yes, Representative. Please."
"To cut to the chase: Woojin should've already had his photo on the A-Team casting board if things were normal."
"P-Pardon?!"
"But considering everything you just said, I pulled him into the audition instead. Woojin himself insisted on the same treatment as everyone. I agreed it made sense, so I gave him the chance. I don't see the problem."
"Representative! What I mean is…."
"One more thing. If we follow your logic strictly, wouldn't it apply to you too?"
"Me? Why me all of a sudden…."
"You came to us after 'Ullim' disbanded, right? No audition—you joined directly. I remember clearly."
"Well, that's true, but…."
"Our troupe, and my direction: 'fair' and 'equal' opportunities for all actors. You know that."
"Yes…."
Choi Yeong-do's strong complaints gradually dissolved under Jeong Jae-min's factual responses.
"That said, we're not rigid. You've shown your worth, so we skipped some procedures. Strictly by the rules, you'd have to re-audition from entry level, not just the quarterly show."
"……."
"Even without theater credits, Woojin has real achievements as an actor. Giving him just an audition feels almost apologetic for his accomplishments… But setting that aside, what makes Woojin different from you here?"
Choi Yeong-do bit his lip. He wanted to argue, but the words rang true—nothing to say.
"…Nothing."
"What bothers me slightly is this: You seem fine with Kang-sik, whose A-Team spot is locked, but not Woojin. Why? Because Kang-sik's a senior and an alum?"
At Jeong Jae-min's sharp words, Choi Yeong-do's head drooped low.
It hit too close to home; he felt like a thief caught red-handed.
"If you're picking on him just because he's younger, less experienced in theater, and an easier target, I'd be furious. Of course, I believe that's not your intent. We'll give Woojin the exact same chance as everyone. Does that answer it?"
"Yes, Representative…."
"No representative makes perfect calls every time. We're building this troupe together—thanks for sharing your perspective as a member. Come to me anytime like today."
Jeong Jae-min patted Choi Yeong-do's shoulder with a warm smile.
Differences in viewpoint were inevitable, so he always listened openly. That atmosphere allowed members to voice concerns face-to-face, even blushing with intensity.
Of course, if improvements were needed or he'd erred, he'd retract boldly. Conversely, for convictions, he pushed forward decisively.
This exchange with Choi Yeong-do ended in the latter.
"Yeong-do."
"Yes, Representative."
"I think watching others' acting is as crucial as your own. What about you?"
Choi Yeong-do finally smiled faintly.
"Obviously. That's why I never miss a quarterly audition."
With many actors, only about 30% got roles across A- and B-Teams per regular show. Even ancient Greek plays with huge casts barely hit 50%.
In other words, chances to gauge everyone's skills together were rare outside quarterly auditions.
Thus, Choi Yeong-do had never skipped an audition day since joining.
"Watch closely this time."
Jeong Jae-min grinned. He was certain. And expectant.
Of Woojin's audition performance.
It would give positive energy to the members—and to Woojin himself.
Choi Yeong-do, at that point, found the representative's words puzzling.
And now—
"Next!"
Thud thud.
The actor bearing all that certainty and expectation stepped onto the stage. The highlight pin spotlight poured down on his head.
"Baek Woojin. Pleased to meet you."
Woojin bowed politely to the judges and competitors in the audience.
He closed his eyes, steadied his breath, and slowly awakened the "Young Man" dormant within.
A week of preparation.
For him, who'd weathered countless ordinary auditions with at most three or four days—excluding the day itself—
"Beginning."
—it was ample time to embody one character.
This 28-year-old actor, who'd devoted every waking hour of that week to the script, internalizing the role born from Ma Seol-ah's pen—
"Ah, Dad…."
His eyes flashed, voice trembling faintly.
They say auditions are decided in the first line—or the first second.
And—
"……?!"
"Whoa…."
In Woojin's first line, that initial second—the emotional arc of the character—
—began captivating the eyes and ears of everyone present.