The Red Light and the Flower Scent
“It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Kim Seokjun. I'm a huge fan of Writer Han and PD Kim, so just being cast felt like an honor—but now that I'm here, I have to say I'm having second thoughts.”
Kim Seokjun, the actor playing the adult version of Yuhyeon—the role I'd been cast in—let out a mournful groan.
Everyone froze at the word regret, which almost never rears its head at a script reading.
“No one told me the child actors would be this handsome and pretty… Look at us, we don't resemble them at all…. I worry the three of us will become a casting controversy, and the tears just….”
Mid-sentence, Kim Seokjun clapped a hand over his mouth as if he could no longer contain the surge of emotion.
The over-the-top performance burst laughter out of everyone at once, and the stiff atmosphere melted into something warm and easy.
Lee Seonghye and Jang Inho, seated beside Kim Seokjun, laughed the loudest of all.
They were the actors cast as Nabi and Hyowon.
Judging by how they'd been hugging each other and trading hyung and noona before the reading, the three of them went way back.
The child actors each reacted differently to the joke that dissolved the tension in one stroke.
Seong Ijun, playing young Hyowon, ducked his head in embarrassment, while Han Seyeong, playing young Nabi, wore a smile like she'd stepped straight out of a drawing.
And I just… laughed. A suitably light laugh, one that didn't disturb the mood.
Manager Ahn Jinbae had drilled it into me that the cameras were capturing everything, and that I absolutely must not sit there stone-faced. So I had no choice.
Once the adult actors finished their introductions, it was the child actors' turn.
“Hello, I'm Seong Ijun, and I'll be playing young Hyowon. I'm also a fan of Writer Han and PD Kim, so this is truly an honor. I'll work hard…!”
“I'm Han Seyeong, the actress playing young Nabi. Personally, I'm a fan of everyone here, so I'm thrilled just to be sitting in this room. I'll repay you all with good acting.”
The moment Seong Ijun sat back down shyly, Han Seyeong rose to her feet and greeted the room with a poised, immaculate smile.
She spoke in a soft, easy voice while glancing around the table, but every movement of her body sent waves of perfume washing over me, and I was holding my breath so hard I barely caught half of what she said.
“Hello, I'm Lee Yeonjae. I'll be playing Yuhyeon's childhood years. I'll do my best not to be a burden to anyone. Thank you.”
I stood when my turn came and delivered the lines I'd prepared in advance. Not a word of it was a lie.
After that came the writer's and PD's closing remarks, and then, finally, the reading of Episode 1 began.
The air shifted in an instant—throat-clearing, sniffles, and the flutter of scripts turning pages all tangled together.
Then, at some point, everyone's breathing stopped, and out of the silence a staff member began reading the stage directions.
“Joseon is awash in chaos. Nobles with no money begin appearing, and commoners who command slaves. Order collapses, and the streets fill with the homeless. The fates of king and commoner are inverted—and at the center of it all stands Nabi.”
My first scene didn't come until the middle of the episode, so I turned my pages with a relatively light heart.
After flipping through one or two, I lifted my head and glanced around.
On the camera filming the reading, the red light glowed as faithfully as ever.
It's been almost two months since I started practicing in front of a camera on Lee Jeonghyeon's advice, but there's still one thing I can't get used to. That red light.
Strange, how that crimson glow bothers me more than the inscrutable lens ever did.
There are deep-sea fish, aren't there, that lure their prey with light, let them drift close, then swallow them whole in a single bite.
Whenever I looked at that red light, a peculiar click of recognition went off in me, like I was glimpsing a piece of a deep-sea creature's anatomy.
I could almost believe I heard the breathing of some vast life form I could never hope to measure up to, right against my ear.
Feeling my pulse quicken of its own accord under survival instinct, I slowly curled my hand into a fist.
“Something's wrong. Mother is awfully late. It's nearly midnight….”
It was Han Seyeong's line, spoken as young Nabi.
The voice came from the seat right beside mine, yet it sounded as distant as if it were drifting from far away.
The heavy floral scent I'd been holding my breath against this whole time vanished too, the moment my fist clenched.
“Nabi, come out here.”
“Mother, why so late—who is this?”
I saw Nabi rushing out into the courtyard, then lifting a wary gaze to a stranger's face.
Strange. All that was in front of me was a sheet of white paper, so why was the expression blooming in my head so vivid?
“…Greet him.”
Madam Yi, still hesitating, prodded me forward.
No—prodding was what the words were, but the strength behind her voice was pitifully faint.
Of course it was. She was hardly in a position to speak down to me.
It had been barely five days since I watched Jacheon, who had come seeking the palace, trembling like an aspen leaf at my mother's feet.
And in those five days, everything had changed. Now I was the one who had to grow accustomed to being spoken down to.
Suddenly my face stung.
Perhaps branches had scraped it as I fought my way down out of the mountains—it was an alien sensation, one I'd never experienced before.
Which only made this whole situation feel more like a dream. All I wanted was to run.
But I had already run. I'd already fled as far as fleeing could take me.
“Young… master. I offer… my greetings. You may call… me Yuhyeon….”
I forced the words out through a strangled throat.
The instant the awkward syllables touched the air, they scattered, unable even to reach their proper end.
“Mother… you bought a servant? Where did the money come from…?”
“He is no lowborn. He has his circumstances; he'll be staying in the annex for the time being, so pay him no mind.”
“Just like that? If it's 'for the time being,' how long is—”
“Nabi, I'll explain later.”
I kept my head bowed low and listened to the exchange in silence.
I could feel the muscles along the back of my neck—muscles that had never once learned to bend—crying out at the unfamiliar posture. It was humiliating.
My breathing began to shorten all on its own.
Impatience, unreality, fear—my eyes grew hot at the edges.
I must not let them see tears. If Mother finds out….
I squeezed my fist as though I meant to snap my own fingers, but the ragged breathing refused to settle.
“Mother. He's breathing strangely—hey, are you all right? Your breathing—”
Now my whole body had begun to shake beyond my control.
Gulping air to make up for what I lacked, I heard the panting escape me before I could stop it.
The woman watching this clucked out useless chatter and reached her hand toward my body. Where does this lowborn thing get the nerve—.
“How dare you!”
Disgust boiled up from my heels to the crown of my head in an instant, and I shuddered with revulsion.
I snapped my eyes open and glared straight ahead.
The very moment I opened my mouth to scream at them to drag this insolent creature away, my eyes locked with the man in front of me.
“Wow—shit.”
The instant the man's eyes met mine, the words burst out of him loud, like something he was retching up.
Whether he meant to or not, his eyes blew wide open, and he immediately dropped his head.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You just startled me.”
“Oh, honestly. Kim Seokjun, you've lost the plot entirely.”
“Really, I apologize. Everyone was concentrating and… aigoo, my bad.”
The man bowed his head in every direction, flustered, and then said his piece while meeting my eyes precisely.
I blinked for a moment at the thought of where am I, then belatedly realized that Kim Seokjun was apologizing and shook my head at once.
“No, it's fine.”
“Hmm, we're about halfway through, so shall we take a break? Everyone, let's take five.”
The moment my words ended, the PD smoothed over the disorderly atmosphere with a calm voice.
At that, everyone sprang up from their seats, and a chain of chair legs scraping the floor rang out.
Things still felt faintly unreal, and I was blinking slowly when I felt a gaze from the seat right beside me. It was Han Seyeong.
If she was staring that openly, she probably wanted to talk.
I'd only just come back to myself, and the floral scent flooding over me made me hesitate to even look her way.
“Hey, you're seriously good at acting!”
Out of nowhere, a large figure came striding straight toward me, booming voice and all.
“Thank you.”
“Wow, you really got me. How are you this good? I got chills, I'm telling you.”
Kim Seokjun wrapped his hands around his own arms and shivered theatrically.
With zero apparent intention of lowering his volume, he left me at a loss—especially since the gaze from my left was getting even more intense.
“Kim Seokjun. Pipe down, will you? You think you're the only one here? Still haven't kicked that top-star habit, have you.”
“Ah, noona! Stop with that already. That was years ago.”
“Years ago, my foot. Did you time-warp alone or something? You don't remember asking me three months ago how much I charge for ad appearances?”
“Hey, you promised to keep that secret!”
Lee Seonghye, who played Nabi, had come over and was gleefully needling Kim Seokjun.
Jang Inho, who played Hyowon, sauntered over too. Why do they all keep doing this right in front of me?
Flustered, I just fiddled with the script in front of me while watching the three of them carry on—until Lee Seonghye turned to me with a smile.
“You know, it really did surprise me though. This is actually your first time acting? You're way too good at it. Right, Seyeong?”
Lee Seonghye's gaze swung naturally toward my left.
Out of options, I held my breath and turned my head.
“Yes, you were wonderful. You surprised me too.”
Han Seyeong looked at me with a smile. Her eyes crinkled upward along her cheekbones, an easy, natural laugh in them.
I lifted the corners of my mouth in return and gave my thanks.
Watching the exchange, Lee Seonghye opened her mouth in a distinctly dissatisfied tone.
“Why are kids already using formal speech with each other? Didn't I say this earlier?”
Having nothing to say, I kept quiet, and an excruciating awkwardness bloomed thick in the air between Han Seyeong and me.
Lee Seonghye clicked her tongue, then swept up Seong Ijun—who had been rolling his eyes beside Han Seyeong this whole time—and herded all of us into one spot.
“I'm close with Inho and Kim Seokjun, so you four need to get close fast too. That's how the chemistry works, right?”
“Whoa, noona. Why is Jang Inho just 'Inho' while I'm 'Kim Seokjun'?”
“Fine, then. Shall we start with our Seyeong introducing herself?”
“Your social skills are something else….”
Han Seyeong laughed as if embarrassed, but introduced herself right away all the same.
She was fifteen, two years older than me, and this was already her eighth drama role.
Apparently she'd played Lee Seonghye's younger version in her last project as well.
Her smile as she declared that historical drama was new to her, that she still had far to go and would work hard, was brimming with confidence.
Handed the baton, Seong Ijun answered in a voice that crept out barely above a whisper.
Seong Ijun was also fifteen. As a small child he'd mostly modeled in TV commercials, and he'd only done films for the past few years, so this was his first drama.
“Then Yeonjae's the baby! You can call me noona and him hyung, then. Everyone, speak casually from now on. You kids being all formal is giving me the creeps.”
“That's just your age catching up with you, noona.”
Lee Seonghye's rebuttal ended, at last, with a swift smack to Kim Seokjun's back—and with that, the break was over.
At the PD's call to hurry and finish the remaining pages, the scattered clusters that had broken apart all over the room hurried back to their seats.
I exchanged a brief look with Manager Ahn Jinbae, who'd been watching me since earlier, then threw myself back into the reading.
The child actors dominated the early episodes, it seemed, so reading through the Episode 3 script demanded relentless, unbroken focus.
“Great work, everyone~! Now let's head to the company dinner!”
“Dinner! We're doing meat, right?”
It was finally over.
Everyone clapped and congratulated each other, but after grinding every ounce of energy I had into those few hours, I didn't even have the strength to applaud.
What I really wanted was to slump face-down onto the desk and rest, but too many eyes were watching.
And above all, that gaze from my left was still unbearably intense.
“You really are good at acting.”
The moment I reluctantly turned my head toward that piercing look, Han Seyeong spoke up.
“Thanks. You were really good too, noona.”
“Yeah?”
Han Seyeong's smile as she laughed at my words was remarkably clean.
In painting terms, it was the kind of cleanliness of a line drawn perfectly, with no sketch marks beneath it.
She turned away without a trace of lingering attachment, as if she had nothing more to say, so I quietly gathered my script as well.
Just as I moved to stand… ah. No—if I left things like this, it would keep gnawing at me, so I sat back down.
Right. Better to find out for sure than let it fester.
“Noona, can I ask you one thing?”
“Hm?”
I gave Han Seyeong—who was still wearing that perfectly composed smile—an awkward grin.
Even to me, the question was absurdly out of nowhere.
“Could you tell me what perfume you're wearing?”