Hello. I'm 25-Year-Old Actor Baek Woojin.
As Baek Woojin stepped into the audition room, PD Park couldn't help but widen his eyes in surprise.
What the hell? Permed hair and baggy tracksuit? It was a world away from the polished look of most actors coming in for auditions.
"Are you auditioning for Choi Kyu-bo?"
PD Park wore a puzzled expression, but Writer Seo, sitting with a sharp gaze unlike his, addressed Woojin directly.
"Yes, that's right."
Woojin's appearance was an exact match for the Choi Kyu-bo character she'd envisioned, leaving her stunned. All the agencies had received was the synopsis, the first two episodes' scripts, and an audition script with just two scenes.
To capture the eccentric genius vibe and free-spirited personality the writer intended, based solely on the early episodes? From the very first impression, Writer Seo felt nothing but goodwill toward him.
"It's exactly how I pictured Choi Kyu-bo. How did you know? We could probably use that exact outfit."
She'd watched 40 auditions that day alone, and this was the first time such words had left her mouth. Seeing the sparkle in her eyes, PD Park chuckled heartily and turned to Woojin.
"I remember now. We were surprised about this guy applying for a role 10 years older than his actual age, and it was you, Woojin-ssi."
"Yes, that's correct."
"It's certainly unique, but what matters is whether you can act well. Let's start with the designated scene."
"Understood."
The striking first impression definitely had an effect, but there was no hint of expectation in PD Park's voice. Auditions ultimately hinged on image and acting ability. Moreover, applying for a role so far outside one's age range was a double-edged sword for an actor. Nail it, and you'd leave a powerful impression of overcoming the handicap; botch it, and you'd just seem half-baked.
On top of that, PD Park—already under orders from Director Jeong of the drama department to cast an established actor—was clearly eager to wrap things up quickly.
"We have two designated scenes, but due to time, we'll only see Scene 2 today."
"Yes. I'll begin."
Last in line—a penalty in itself. For Woojin, it was just as expected, not ideal. Normally he'd get two chances to perform, but now it was down to one.
"Hey, kid. Camera ready?"
PD Park set aside Woojin's profile, picked up the designated script, and asked the FD.
"Yes. Standing by."
"Okay. Rolling now."
He looked away from the FD and back at Woojin.
"Start in 5 seconds."
"Yes."
Woojin closed his eyes, slowly counting to five in his mind, then opened them. In that instant, he had become Choi Kyu-bo.
"In my opinion..."
Woojin's acting began. A faint pause as he scanned his surroundings—like Choi Kyu-bo himself. Then,
"The cause of death for the deceased... lovesickness."
Out came an absurd, comical line that was hard to swallow.
What is this naturalness?
PD Park's eyes widened at the tone of Woojin's opening line. It felt utterly different from all the previous applicants. He knew instinctively: this wasn't the product of a day or two of practice.
Tap.
Just as AD Woo PD was about to read the counterpart line, PD Park suddenly gestured to stop him.
"Pardon? What on earth does that mean?"
And he himself delivered the line in a flat tone. Woo PD was startled. It was the first time he'd seen PD Park take on the counterpart role personally.
"Kim Min-jun here was smitten with Jo Yu-jeong. His feelings grew so overwhelming that he couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, fell into depression, and ended up only taking meds. Why? Because his longing just kept building up. That's how he got lovesick."
"Professor Choi Kyu-bo. Does that even make sense? Stop joking and give a proper explanation."
It had been ages since they'd encountered a rookie who brought such a fresh vibe with just one line. PD Park's face was already flushed with excitement.
"I'm not joking."
His expression oozed leisure, but his voice was utterly serious.
"When thoughts or worries about something go overboard, your energy stagnates. In a word, qi congestion. If it doesn't circulate, naturally~"
Choi Kyu-bo extended his index finger as he continued, his upper body leaning slightly toward his counterpart. The gesture screamed emphasis.
"It'd be fatal to your health, right?"
"If you can't determine the cause of death, just say so. Isn't this too much of a stretch?"
"Listen to the end in Korean! Even in one-shot medicine, it's called a disease. The technical term is sa-juk-gi-gyeol. But why doesn't Western medicine recognize it as one~?"
Every light gesture from the actor brimmed with life. Even a single finger twitch felt meticulously calculated, yet utterly natural.
We're watching acting, but it doesn't feel like acting at all. What is this?
The thought floated through the minds of all three observers.
"Historically, tons of people have died from lovesickness. Love is humanity's most basic emotion—does it make sense that unfulfilled love wouldn't cause illness?"
Choi Kyu-bo's words grew increasingly persuasive. Likely because the actor's expressions, gestures, and breathing—rising and falling perfectly—sold it.
Such a long monologue, delivered like a presentation to another character, looked easy but was devilishly hard. Mess up, and it became rote reading from a textbook; keep the tone and breath even, and it dragged into boredom.
But right now, there was no sense of an actor reciting lines. It felt like facing Choi Kyu-bo himself.
"Modern science just doesn't acknowledge it yet. Like how we haven't unraveled the mysteries of the universe or the ocean. A relic of the Age of Exploration. Or call it bizarre mysticism—leave the mysterious mysterious?"
"Still, this is a bit..."
"Anyway! Medically speaking, it's lovesickness. Of course, we can't exactly write that on the coroner's report~"
Choi Kyu-bo set down the report in his hand, ending his speech. His closing expression blended the aura of a professional genius with his signature playful, ever-relaxed eccentricity.
"......"
As Woojin closed his eyes after the final line, returning to himself, PD Park, AD Woo PD, and Writer Seo exchanged glances, sharing the same thought.
This actor... I like him. What do we do?
* * *
"That's it."
Woojin returned to his natural voice, 180 degrees from Choi Kyu-bo's. His words broke the brief silence that had followed the end of the performance.
"Great job."
"Whoa, that was good."
"It was like watching a short monodramma."
PD Park, AD Woo PD, and Writer Seo finally snapped back to reality.
"Thank you."
Woojin smiled at their reactions.
"We planned to only see Scene 2, but after that, I'm dying to know how you'd do Scene 1. Let's see it too."
PD Park opened the script for Scene 1 as he spoke. AD Woo PD on the left and Writer Seo on the right both nodded in agreement.
"Yes. I can do it right away."
Scene 1 built to an emotional peak. It depicted Choi Kyu-bo clashing with his superior, the head of the cold-case squad, Lee Jong-bu, who insisted on announcing an unacceptable cause of death as KCFS's official stance. The key was the deep-seated rage boiling up to explode, culminating in an emotional outburst.
"Yes, let's start."
Huff... huff...
Woojin began with ragged breaths.
"Anyone can see it's closed airway suffocation—who the hell chokes themselves to death! What kind of bullshit is this?"
His face flushed red in an instant, fully transformed back into Choi Kyu-bo.
"You know they found microscopic fibers in the victim's trachea, and you're calling it suicide? In cases like this, it's 100% murder—you know that!"
The buildup intensified. He seemed on the verge of exploding any second.
"Lower your voice."
PD Park, now fully immersed, read his line with a serious expression.
"Why are you doing this? There has to be a reason!"
"Victims of closed airway suffocation are usually kids or the elderly with no strength to fight back. You know that, right? This victim was a strapping guy in his twenties."
"They must've subdued him some other way first."
"That's enough."
"Isn't that what our squad is for—figuring out how? When evidence might get destroyed any minute, we should be running ourselves ragged, not closing a clear-cut murder case here! Are you insane?"
"You little shit!"
"I can't do it. You know that."
The tension crested toward climax. Choi Kyu-bo turned his back on the squad chief with a cold expression. Just then, a mysterious man enters the office and blocks him. Immersion filled the audition room.
"Ha, what kind of ridiculous situation is this?"
Choi Kyu-bo let out a disbelieving laugh, then stared straight at Lee Jong-bu. His gaze hardened further.
"Conclude it as suicide."
"Don't wanna."
Even in the tense moment, his signature speech quirk emerged.
"Last warning. Do as you're told."
Lee Jong-bu's icy tone. Choi Kyu-bo, with the corner of his mouth slightly upturned, spat out each word deliberately:
"Can't... do it. What now?"
His face burned red, but his expression held not a flicker of doubt.
A beat later,
"That's it."
Woojin said, steadying his breath. At the same moment, PD Park nearly let out a silent "Oh!" of awe but caught himself.
To handle such a high-difficulty script, transforming freely in mere moments. It had to be one thing: exceptional talent, insane effort, or both.
"......"
The blank stares of the three said it all.
We found our actor!
* * *
Woojin nailed his free performance too. PD Park glanced at his profile again and asked,
"You've only done bit parts so far?"
"Yes."
"What's your agency? It's not listed."
"I don't have one right now."
"Right now? Where were you before?"
"SJ Entertainment."
AD Woo PD chimed in.
"I heard they were late contacting their audition picks there."
"Is that so? I got the call after leaving the company, so I'm not sure about that part."
"Anyway, impressive. Analyzing and prepping like this in such short notice. Top-level stuff."
Writer Seo praised him. PD Park followed up.
"Among everyone today, you analyzed Choi Kyu-bo the most faithfully. Think you could handle sudden on-set directing changes?"
It was a strong, yet thrilling question.