Week 3 of Rehearsals
Week 3 of rehearsals had begun. With only two weeks left until the main performance, the atmosphere in the practice room had shifted noticeably from before. Under the watchful eyes of director Oh Tae-hyeop and playwright Ma Seol-ah, the process of fine-tuning individual character acting details was complete. Now, there wasn't even enough time to synchronize all those polished details.
But then,
"Se-hee sunbaenim, hold on a moment."
"Yes, writer-nim."
"I think you need to dial back the emotion here just a bit."
"Got it. Let me try again."
Myeong Se-hui sunbaenim still hadn't quite grasped her character's emotional arc, wandering uncertainly. Throughout the morning practice, Ma the writer stuck by her side, giving one-on-one feedback, but she remained unsteady. In the end, to nail down Se-hui sunbaenim's details as quickly as possible, even Oh Tae-hyeop joined in. More than half the morning session flowed like a solo monologue practice for her.
It felt like our progress was being seriously held back, with so much road ahead. Yet, despite the growing impatience, no one snapped at her or lost their temper. Even Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim patiently waited for his junior's instincts to return. Who could complain after that? The expressions of the other Actor's Yard A-Team members watching Myeong Se-hui carried silent encouragement. She must have felt immense pressure herself. All we could do to ease it was wait quietly.
"Looks like Se-hee's instincts haven't kicked in yet."
Choi Yeong-do sunbaenim approached from the corner of the practice room, wiping sweat from his face, murmuring softly. While Myeong Se-hui worked on finding the right vocal tone amid feedback, the rest of A-Team got a break.
Woojin handed Choi Yeong-do a water bottle and asked cautiously,
"Did something happen?"
"Se-hee took a break from acting for a while. Oh, is this news to you?"
"Yeah, I didn't know. What about you, sunbaenim?"
"First I've heard of it too."
Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim nodded. Choi Yeong-do sunbaenim grinned and said,
"Sunbaenim, wanna step out for a smoke?"
"Sure. Woojin, you too?"
"Yeah."
The three slipped out of the practice room. After lighting up, Choi Yeong-do continued,
"It was her third year in. We were doing Equus for the second-quarter production back then."
Myeong Se-hui sunbaenim had passionately played Jill Mason, the protagonist's girlfriend, in Peter Shaffer's renowned British play Equus.
"As you know, sunbaenim, lots of industry folks come to Daehak-ro shows."
"True."
"Se-hee's performance was killer. I could tell from rehearsals—this girl's a real actor."
Choi Yeong-do exhaled a puff of smoke, his veteran theater voice modulating perfectly to draw listeners in. Both Woojin and Lee Kang-sik hung on his words.
"During final dress, apparently an indie director was in the audience. Afterward, while chatting with acquaintances, he approached Se-hee and offered her a role on the spot."
"Oh, I thought Se-hee sunbaenim had stuck purely to theater."
"Turned out it was a KAFA grad project. You know how tough that is, Woojin."
True enough. Among shorts and indies, KAFA films carry the most weight. He'd heard plenty working with KAFA alum director Ra Ho-chan. KAFA projects aim for festivals from the start, with production environments far more professional than typical shorts. In short, a KAFA film is one of the top gateways for rookies.
For a director to cast her straight from the stage like that...
"Se-hee was over the moon. We all celebrated like crazy."
She must have jumped for joy. Choi Yeong-do took another drag.
A faint sigh mingled with the exhale.
"Less than a month into principal photography, she got cut. Still stings thinking about it."
"What? Why?"
"She got hurt on set."
On her first feature indie—a thriller—she'd suffered an unexpected injury during a night scene in the mountains.
"Terrain was rough, equipment setup a bit lacking, I guess. She tripped in the dark and tumbled down."
"Aigoo..."
Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim grimaced. Even hearing it secondhand was rough; the actual scene must have been chaos.
"Rolled tens of meters down a steep slope. Lost consciousness, even."
"That's insane! Shooting unprepared in such a dangerous spot?"
"Later Se-hee told me the production team skimped—cut her pay in half, too."
"......"
Good and bad exist everywhere. Director Ra had funneled unexpected savings into cast and crew pay. Same KAFA roots, yet worlds apart. The people in Se-hui sunbaenim's story felt utterly shameless.
"Woke up in the hospital—face and right arm badly injured. Wrapped in bandages for ages."
Choi Yeong-do lit another cigarette. Chiiik— The flame sparked. Lee Kang-sik started chain-smoking too, soothing his heavy heart with smoke over his junior's plight.
"We got close doing Equus. Whole troupe rushed to the hospital the second we heard. I... I still can't forget it."
He paused, reluctant to revisit the memory.
"Opened the door—her face swathed in bandages everywhere but eyes and mouth. Sitting on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably."
"......"
"Tears soaked the bandages, leaving stains. Man, it guts me even now."
Choi Yeong-do's voice trembled slightly. Who knew Se-hui sunbaenim carried such pain?
"An actor's face, of all things. Must've felt like the world ended."
Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim's low voice amplified the pathos.
"What pissed me off most—no fault of her own, career on the line, and those production bastards never even visited."
"Total thugs!"
Woojin blurted it out before he knew it, clapping a hand over his mouth at the volume.
"Got the call less than a week later. Role recast, thanks for your work. Fucking pricks. Wanted to burn the whole thing down, but it'd spit on Se-hee's face, so I held back. Damn, just thinking about it..."
Myeong Se-hui sunbaenim's bright approaches to Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim in the practice room—always chirping about drinks—took on new depth. How had she overcome it?
Afterward,
"She cried herself to sleep every night, saying she was done, never acting again. Tough to console her."
Choi Yeong-do had stuck by her, even skipping the third-quarter show.
"Anyway, that's the deal—she's only recently back. Rested long after the scars healed, trauma and all."
"She pulled herself together well. You played a big part, Yeong-do."
"Eventually, yeah. Said she wanted—no, had to act. Do films, dramas, become a star."
"Saved a talented junior. Nice work."
"Haha, nah—I'm grateful to her. Pushed her to audition for Saw the Pheasant? despite the long hiatus. She lacked confidence, but I believed—'cause she's that good."
"Nailed the audition first try despite the gap. You were right, Yeong-do sunbaenim."
Woojin smiled. Choi Yeong-do grinned back, clapping his shoulder.
"She's still fumbling, but she'll snap back soon. I've shared the stage—know her acting. All we can do is wait quietly."
"That's awesome, sunbaenim."
"Haha! Good people make for great practice vibes, huh?"
Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim grabbed Choi Yeong-do's hand, standing and slinging arms around both their shoulders.
"Forget what you heard—let's help Se-hee find her tone comfortably. We're a team, right?"
"Yes!"
"Got it, sunbaenim!"
"Oh, yeah—one thing I've been curious about, Yeong-do. Mind if I ask?"
"Shoot, sunbaenim!"
Choi Yeong-do boomed cheerfully. Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim asked with a mischievous grin,
"Just sunbae-hoobae, or...?"
"Pardon?"
"You and Se-hee hoobae. Quitting shows to visit her daily? Hmm."
"Ah, haha..."
"What's the exact relationship?"
Choi Yeong-do laughed awkwardly, face flushing red.
Some BGM seemed to play from nowhere. Definitely not Woojin's imagination. He nodded quietly.
"Good work!"
"See you tomorrow."
"Rest up!"
Through morning and afternoon practice, Myeong Se-hui sunbaenim looked mentally tangled. Amid the so-called "20s actress famine," she represented Actor's Yard, Daehak-ro's top troupe. Sure, she'd hit her late 20s when the accident forced a hiatus, returning in her early 30s. But her built-up theater resume and proven acting chops didn't vanish.
So why was it this hard? Overcoming scars and trauma seemed enough, yet another wall loomed: recapturing lost instincts. If only she could...
Matching with others felt impossibly tough.
"Haa."
What an exhausting day. Doubts kept swirling.
"Sorry, everyone..."
Alone in the empty practice room, she muttered self-reproach.
How frustrated must the director, writer, and cast be? She was derailing the schedule, yet no one yelled or complained. Their kindness only amplified her guilt.
"Just practice, Se-hee..."
She tidied the messy room—props, sweeping the floor—steadying her mind. No choice but to sacrifice her sleep. While others practiced all day and went home, she'd stay an extra hour or two!
Grabbing the script—
—Click.
"......?!"
The lights went out. What? In the dark, Se-hee scanned around.
Then—
—Click!
Lights on. "Eh?" Her eyes widened in shock.
People stood at the entrance.
"Don't practice alone—let's run it together!"
Choi Yeong-do sunbaenim beamed.
"Couldn't practice properly today thanks to you, hoobae—mind if we join your extra study?"
Lee Kang-sik sunbaenim chuckled heartily.
"Come on, everyone—grab a coffee and let's start!"
Woojin waved coffees in both hands.
"Sunbaenim! Sneaking solo practice? No fair!"
"You're already great—how much greater can you get? Such a greedy one!"
Rookies Bae Su-jeong and Yang Hyo-je flanked her, playfully whining.
"......"
Myeong Se-hui covered her face with both hands, murmuring softly,
"...Thanks, everyone."
That night, the lights in Actor's Yard's basement burned late.