Mossol (2)
A block away from Kidari Entertainment stood Film Company M, one of South Korea’s five major film studios.
Today was the audition day for the supporting male lead in a romance film produced by M.
The first-floor waiting room, the hallways, and even the area in front of the building were packed with male actors in their twenties and thirties hoping to audition. Even though the staff had staggered the call times, the sheer number of people waiting spoke volumes about the scale of this project.
Those who had arrived for the third slot greeted familiar faces and exchanged pleasantries.
“I heard Director Mo Yeon-hee is helming this one.”
“Really? Are you sure? The audition notice didn’t say anything, so I just assumed it was a romance.”
“I asked a senior I know. That guy over there was in Director Mo’s last film as a supporting actor, remember?”
Like typical aspiring actors, they kept trading whatever scraps of information they had picked up.
Min Jung-won, a graduate of the Korea National University of Arts and a member of the renowned theater troupe “Saetbit,” cut in sharply at the chatter beside him.
“Hey. Who’s this senior you supposedly know? You’re just showing off again. Think about it. Director Mo Yeon-hee only casts the biggest names. Why would she pick rookies like us for the supporting male lead?”
“Come on. I heard she’s really into discovering new talent this time.”
“Stop spreading unverified rumors. Don’t get everyone’s hopes up for nothing. You know the most basic thing about being an actor? Knowing exactly where you stand.”
Min Jung-won launched into a lengthy speech about how actors must always keep both feet firmly on the ground and how chasing unrealistic dreams would only shorten their careers. It was all surface-level advice that helped no one.
“Wow. As expected of a classically trained actor, your posture is on another level, hyung.”
The young actor beside him nodded earnestly, as if Min Jung-won’s words were gospel.
Just then—
“Huh? Isn’t that Jung Seung-il?”
“Where? Whoa, the guy in the mask?”
The waiting actors stirred.
A tall figure wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a mask walked in. Even with the disguise, the aura he radiated was impossible to hide.
It was Jung Seung-il, the actor who had recently delivered a standout performance as the male lead in that drama and was riding a massive wave of popularity. He entered the waiting room with his manager.
“Wow, Jung Seung-il sunbaenim, right? This is such an honor. Could I possibly get your autograph?”
The same chatterbox who had been hovering around Min Jung-won moments earlier dashed over in an instant to ask for a signature.
Min Jung-won clicked his tongue at the sight.
“What are you doing? We’re all actors here. Have some pride.”
“Now that I think about it, you worked with Jung Seung-il sunbaenim before, didn’t you?”
He had—once, in a tiny, nearly silent cameo role where they never even shared a proper scene.
“We’ve met. But there’s no point in acting familiar at an audition. It just makes things awkward.”
“Man, you really are something else, hyung.”
Even so, Min Jung-won kept clearing his throat, secretly hoping Jung Seung-il might recognize him first. The attempt went nowhere.
Jung Seung-il kindly took photos with everyone who approached him, then swept his gaze across the waiting room. He could feel every eye on him, whether openly or not. Deciding it would be better not to burden the other actors, he turned to leave.
Then—
“Huh?”
Someone in the corner caught his eye. The man wore a cap pulled low, but Jung Seung-il recognized him instantly. That face had left an indelible mark on his acting career.
“Tae-san-ssi?”
Jung Seung-il spotted Kang Tae-san sitting alone, staring at his phone.
“Ah, hello.”
Kang Tae-san, who hadn’t noticed the commotion because of his earphones, looked up and greeted him warmly.
“So you’re here for the audition too. I heard it’s Director Mo Yeon-hee’s project. Did you know?”
“Yes. My agency told me.”
“I was already planning to give it my all, but seeing you here makes me want to push even harder. Let’s both do our best.”
Jung Seung-il extended his hand first.
During their time filming together, he had learned a great deal from Kang Tae-san—more than from anyone else. A comet-like genius actor who had appeared out of nowhere. The emotions that surged within him whenever he thought of Tae-san were too complex to be called simple jealousy.
In the end, it all boiled down to one thing: he had to work even harder.
Though he had already begun landing leading roles with ease, he refused to grow complacent. Meeting Kang Tae-san had reignited his desire to gain more experience and broaden his acting range.
The role Jung Seung-il had originally been offered was the male lead—a professional baseball player. Yet his eyes had been drawn to the supporting male lead instead: a nerdy engineering student with obsessive tendencies. It was a character type he had never played before, and after working with Tae-san, his hunger for new challenges had only grown.
Despite his agency’s objections, he had insisted on auditioning for this role. He wanted to be recognized for his acting alone, not his popularity.
“Yes. Let’s both do well.”
Kang Tae-san clasped Jung Seung-il’s hand.
Jung Seung-il paused, startled by the rough calluses covering Tae-san’s palm.
‘Why are his hands so rough? Don’t tell me…’
The grip strength was impressive too, and blue veins stood out prominently across the back of Tae-san’s hand.
‘He’s even training his body on top of everything else? Ha. I’ll have to hit the gym after the audition today.’
Of course, Tae-san’s calluses had nothing to do with weightlifting. But Jung Seung-il simply accepted the fresh wave of despair that came with realizing a genius was also a hard worker, and turned away.
“Hyung. Is that the guy? The rookie we auditioned with before?”
The actor who had returned to Min Jung-won’s side watched the two of them and whispered.
Yes. They had once dismissed that rookie as nothing more than an idol, only to watch him snatch the role they had desperately wanted and rise like a rocket. The bitterness had been unbearable.
And that wasn’t all.
When they learned he was the older brother of Kang So-yeon, the top member of the currently hottest group POA, they had cursed their own parents in envy.
‘And now he shows up here too?’
Min Jung-won sank into crushing despair.
It was obvious. Either Jung Seung-il or Kang Tae-san would take this role.
“Screw this. I’m out.”
“Hyung! Hyung, where are you going?”
Min Jung-won shot to his feet and stormed out of the waiting room.
Struggling in a game that was already decided would only make him a sideshow.
“They’re just going to hand it to each other anyway.”
***
At the same time, inside the large conference room on the second floor of Film Company M.
After days of nonstop auditions, everyone in the room looked exhausted.
Four people sat there: Director Mo Yeon-hee, the assistant director, the head of M’s production department, and the casting director.
“This next candidate isn’t a rookie, is he?”
The department head double-checked the profile he had been flipping through.
“No. It’s Jung Seung-il.”
“Did you already know about him, Director?”
“I offered him the lead role, but he said he wanted the supporting part instead. His acting is solid and his attitude is good, so I liked what I saw.”
Even before watching Jung Seung-il’s audition, Mo Yeon-hee already seemed favorably disposed toward him. Given her usual emphasis on an actor’s character as the foundation of their craft, he had already scored quite high in her eyes.
“All right, let’s take a look.”
Jung Seung-il entered the audition room, his handsome features radiating natural elegance. In this industry, people called someone like him “born for it.”
Born to be an actor, destined to stand out no matter what.
Unfortunately, such people were extremely rare, and leading roles were even rarer. Opportunities for others were practically nonexistent.
“Hello. Good afternoon, Director. We met once before at a private gathering, didn’t we?”
Jung Seung-il was currently enjoying massive success as a drama lead, so he could have easily acted arrogant. Instead, his warm greeting paired with that striking face made even the most jaded observers feel an instinctive pull.
The veteran head of production, who had been in the business the longest, sensed it immediately.
‘Jung Seung-il is going to get it.’
He could tell from Director Mo’s posture. Until now she had been leaning back, observing with mild detachment. The moment Jung Seung-il appeared, she leaned forward at a forty-five-degree angle.
Of course, he knew Mo Yeon-hee was genuinely committed to discovering new talent. But when a perfectly ripe apple falls right in front of you, it’s hard to ignore it in favor of chasing after a green one still hanging from a distant tree.
The fact that none of the previous candidates had been particularly impressive probably helped too.
“Let’s begin.”
Jung Seung-il cleared his throat once, then launched into his prepared scene.
It was from the middle of the film—the moment the supporting male lead, unable to reach his girlfriend, loses control of his emotions.
Given that he had mostly played upright or cheerful roles until now, there had been some doubt about how deeply he could portray this kind of emotional intensity.
That doubt didn’t last long.
“Don’t do this to me. Please… don’t do this.”
Holding his phone, Jung Seung-il delivered the monologue in a trembling voice. His hands and the corners of his eyes quivered ever so slightly.
The invisible emotions that surface when the person you love makes you feel insecure poured out through his eyes, hands, breathing, and voice.
“Haa…”
Jung Seung-il exhaled softly.
Then he ran a hand through his hair, and his expression shifted in an instant.
As a brilliant engineering graduate now working as a researcher at a major corporation, the character possessed a strong need for control—especially over the woman he loved. In this moment of anxiety, that control had reached its peak, and he laid bare the most extreme version of it without holding back.
‘What the hell? How is he acting this well?’
The department head clicked his tongue as he watched.
Jung Seung-il’s face looked ready to devour his girlfriend on the spot. It was so different from the Jung Seung-il they had only ever seen through the media that it was hard to believe it was the same person.
“…Hyun-ah.”
Finally, the call came through.
Jung Seung-il’s expression changed once more. This time his voice was calm and composed as he tried to conceal his ugliest side.
“I was worried because you didn’t pick up. Thank goodness. Where are you right now? Should I come see you? I want to see you even more today.”
The words themselves were gentle, but anyone watching Jung Seung-il’s performance could tell the truth.
‘This man is obviously dangerous.’
Yet at the same time, his performance made it completely believable that the female lead would have no choice but to rely on this supporting character.
In less than a minute, he had executed three distinct emotional shifts and held the entire room captive. His ability to make the audience instantly understand his character was extraordinary.
“Yes, thank you for your performance.”
Director Mo Yeon-hee smiled with satisfaction.
When an actor perfectly embodied the scene she had imagined while writing the script, how could she not be pleased?
“I see why you wanted this role, Seung-il-ssi. Your expressiveness is remarkable.”
“Thank you. I believe scene 41 is the most essential scene for understanding Gong Geon-ah. He loves the female lead, Jang Yi-hyeon, but that love also makes him anxious—and that anxiety borders on something dangerous. I tried to compress all of that into this moment.”
He had even grasped the creator’s intent with perfect accuracy.
It felt like finding a pearl in the desert.
No—more like the pearl had rolled right up to her feet.
“Thank you for saying that, Seung-il-ssi. We’ll be in touch.”
“Yes! Thank you for the opportunity.”
As Jung Seung-il bowed and left, Director Mo gave him a subtle thumbs-up.
Finding a reason not to cast an actor who excelled in character, script analysis, and acting ability was proving harder than expected.
“Director Mo, I don’t think we need to see anyone else, do we?”
Even the department head’s voice had risen with excitement.
“You’re right. I didn’t expect Seung-il-ssi to come this prepared.”
“Did you see that expression earlier? It was practically at the level of mastery.”
“Whew. I don’t think I’ll find anyone who can outperform Jung Seung-il.”
“Let’s at least finish seeing the candidates we have scheduled for today. We can’t deny them the chance entirely.”
Director Mo flipped to the next profile.
The door opened, and the person whose photo was attached to it walked in.
Kang Tae-san.
He was the actor CEO Choi of Kidari Entertainment had personally recommended. Mo Yeon-hee had been somewhat curious after his recent buzz from that drama.
‘But right after Jung Seung-il? What bad luck.’
His timing was unfortunate.
Following an actor who had arrived with meticulous preparation and a razor-sharp edge, even a talented rookie would struggle to shine. With the judges’ expectations already lowered, turning the tables would be even harder.
“Hello. I’m Kang Tae-san.”
Tae-san felt the judges’ gazes prickling against his skin.
It was the look of people daring him to prove himself.
He had auditioned maybe twice before, but this was the first time he was approaching it with proper acting training.
‘Huu…’
He was nervous.
Kang Tae-san took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes.