Acting That Isn't Acting
Gwon Du-il's capacity for action was something else. The instant the exclusive contract was drawn up with Yu Ha-jin's help, he blasted out an article announcing that he'd founded the agency and signed me in the same breath.
The public's reaction was lukewarm. For all that The Master's Medical Log had been a massive success, I was still a child actress who hadn't shed her rookie label — there was no reason this would make waves. In this era of fragmented content, making a name for yourself off a single drama is extraordinarily hard.
"But if you can just make one piece of content explode, your recognition and your name value shoot up right along with it."
The gym Gwon Du-il practically kept on retainer. Today, declaring he had something to teach me, he'd gone and leased the entire place for real, and he asked:
"So what do you think you need to prepare in order to make that content explode?"
"That sounds like a question with no right answer."
"Exactly. I'm asking what you think."
If he wanted my opinion, the answer was obviously luck. No matter how much talent you brought to the table, without a stroke of fortune things went sideways. There was a reason people in the drama industry said you never knew the ratings until they came in.
Oh Na-yoon's debut track, currently tearing up the charts on a reverse run, was a case in point. A good song that only later caught a string of lucky breaks and finally got to shine. Of course, that didn't mean luck determined every success. It was simply, in my view, the most important of the factors beyond one's control.
But Uncle hates that kind of talk.
Gwon Du-il had talent to spare as a boxer, but more than that, he was a believer in hard work. His creed was that luck followed those who put in the effort. Given that he'd brought me to a gym, though, effort probably wasn't the answer he had in mind either.
Then the answer was this.
"Stamina."
"Because I brought you to a gym?"
I giggled, and Gwon Du-il grinned back and nodded.
"What it takes to succeed is different for everyone. The way I see it, the first thing you need is to build up your stamina. Acting burns more energy than people think. I about had a heart attack watching you gasp for air after running around the playground a little..."
"It wasn't that bad."
"Wasn't that bad, my foot. You should've seen Jin-ho run."
"Could you maybe compare within the same weight class? Strictly speaking, he's a heavyweight and I'm a featherweight."
Gwon Du-il clearly liked the joke — he roared with laughter.
"Fair enough, I picked the wrong comparison. So you don't think you need stamina training?"
"No. I was just putting on a bit of an act."
Gwon Du-il ruffled my hair, then picked up a soccer ball he'd prepared. So he was going to start with that again this time too, huh.
"Cardio's the best way to build stamina, and soccer is excellent cardio! Plus it's fun. Come on, let's run around and have a blast!"
"Woo!"
"That's the spirit! Here we gooo!"
Gwon Du-il set the ball on the floor, bounced through a boxing step, then tapped it toward me. I received the lightly lofted ball and dribbled forward.
"Oh, Su-a's good!"
"That's our Su-a! Well done!"
Listening to Lee Won-seok and Mom cheering from the sidelines, I dribbled the ball all the way to the far end of the gym. I turned toward Lee Won-seok and his camera with a Did I do good? look on my face, and the shutter clicked in rapid succession.
That was the moment Gwon Du-il, who'd been trailing behind, stole the ball right out from under me.
"Ah!"
"Hahaha, you can't let your guard down! Come and get it!"
We went back and forth like that, stealing the ball from each other, crossing the gym several times over. Seeing me start to gasp, Gwon Du-il made a generous offer.
"One more round, then we'll rest."
I narrowed my eyes. Before the regression, I'd fallen for that line and run several more laps.
Never trust a trainer who says "just one more"...
It was for stamina training, sure, but this wasn't the right approach for me. This body of mine fell apart at the slightest overexertion, and Gwon Du-il still didn't know my limits.
I planted a foot on the ball and slowly approached Gwon Du-il, who was grinning from ear to ear. I'd been running for over ten minutes, so my body was reasonably warmed up, and I still had one last burst of energy to squeeze out...
Shall I?
"Hup."
I closed the distance and kicked the ball out from under his foot. Just as I'd expected, he hadn't been putting any real weight on it — the ball popped free, and I dribbled away. Gwon Du-il came after me at a terrifying speed.
"If I steal it before you reach the end, we go again!"
"Booo! You tyrant of a boss!"
"Su-a, you can do it!"
Gwon Du-il paid Lee Won-seok's heckling no mind and went after my ball. He couldn't very well body-check me with that frame of his, so it felt like he was just sticking a foot in. I shifted my upper body as if I were going to dodge the other way...
Tap, tap!
"Wha—?!"
The instant I pulled the ball away with my left foot, I tapped it with my right and slipped past Gwon Du-il. In a single move I was out of his range. Gwon Du-il, who'd swung and missed, could only blink in shock, and Lee Won-seok shouted in an excited voice.
"La Croqueta?!"
Come on. I'd only clumsily imitated it — calling it a high-level technique like that was embarrassing.
Before the regression, Gwon Du-il had made me play soccer for stamina training too. Over about two years, he and I had demolished every ball sport there was, and I could mimic most of the techniques. Of course, with this younger body after the regression, most of it would have to be relearned. But it was enough to catch a careless Gwon Du-il off guard.
Thump!
Reaching the end of the gym, I launched a ceremonial shot. I didn't have the energy for a powerful kick, so the ball just rolled along, tumbling over itself.
"Ugh."
I collapsed onto the floor just like that, soaked in sweat from head to toe. As I lay there catching my breath, Gwon Du-il let out a wry laugh and helped me up.
"Maybe I should've just put you in soccer."
You're saying that after seeing me sprawled out like this from ten minutes of running?
Lee Won-seok came running over with a huge grin.
"Should've filmed that, sir! If we put it on Wetube, she'd be famous as Messi Junior!"
Ahem. Where did he get off saying something that dangerous.
These grown men were getting way too carried away. I only answered after wetting my throat with the water Mom handed me.
"Wouldn't acting practice videos be better than this kind of thing? Especially for the fans."
Lee Won-seok chuckled weakly. So did Gwon Du-il. As if they were letting it slide even though they completely disagreed.
Huh. Why?
That's not it?
Click.
Lee Won-seok didn't miss the shot of Lee Su-a, her eyes gone round with bewilderment. He didn't fully understand the hearts of fans — or rather, of die-hard fans — but she was a good enough actress that the moment a camera pointed her way, she broke into a bright smile.
That face is cute too, but it wouldn't hurt to show a more natural side of herself.
They hadn't known each other long, but he'd quickly noticed that Lee Su-a had a tendency to present only a perfect image in front of the camera. As a manager, he was grateful for it, but the fact that she was still a child bothered him. Chase nothing but perfection this early, and you burned out fast.
Maybe this is just her way of being shy. We've decided to watch and wait for now, so...
Lee Won-seok kept his thoughts to himself and showed Su-a the camera screen.
"Fans are curious about your everyday life too, you know. Look. It came out well."
"Hee."
"Want to put a few up on Inble? You pick."
Having Su-a, still so young, run the official social media herself was a risk, so it had been decided that Lee Won-seok as manager and Lee Ga-hee as her guardian would manage it together. The account, which so far had only a recently taken profile photo, looked barren. With nothing posted, the followers were just the actors she'd worked with on The Master's Medical Log, plus fans who'd followed along after them.
If the first post here was a photo Lee Su-a had chosen herself, that would mean something. With a clever caption to go with it.
Her mother said she wasn't confident about it... so I guess I'll have to step up.
This was a form of promotion too, so normally it would be left to the PR team, but they hadn't hired anyone for PR yet, so there was no choice. While Lee Won-seok was agonizing over what to write, Lee Su-a picked the photos in no time.
"This one, that one, and these two."
"Just four? The others came out well too."
"Then Mom and Manager can pick some more and post them together."
"It's the first post, though. Is that okay?"
Lee Su-a's face said, What does that matter?
Hmm. Maybe it wasn't shyness after all. She was so conscious of the camera, but didn't care about social media? Kids these days — you thought you understood them, and then you didn't, Lee Won-seok thought.
While Lee Won-seok, Lee Ga-hee, and Gwon Du-il — who'd butted in insisting they not leave him out — poured their hearts into selecting photos, Lee Su-a, playing with the soccer ball by herself, asked offhandedly.
"But, um, if people are interested in an actor's private side as well as their acting..."
"Yeah?"
"Would they also be interested in... acting that isn't acting?"
"Acting that isn't acting? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I've been thinking about a way to promote Dad's Screening."
"Huh?"
The three heads clustered over the camera snapped up in unison. Lee Su-a, still rolling the ball with her foot, beamed.
This was a few hours before the Aechu hot-clip video claimed the number-one spot on the trending videos chart.