Star Actor Han Joo-hyuk
Han Joo-hyuk, star actor. He might be a stretch to call a representative of Korea, but he'd make the top three actors in his age group without question.
A stand-in lead for a hastily scheduled filler drama? It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it's more than he deserves. Compared to Han Joo-hyuk, who'd pulled decent ratings in his last project, the main writer Kwak In-ho and main PD Ji Cheol-geun had both been on a friendly downward slide together, hadn't they?
"Good script and we're golden?" Bullshit. In a drama production environment where costs easily top tens of billions, investors' risk isn't something you can measure with abstract data alone. Ji Cheol-geun PD had begged a CP at the bureau chief level, someone he was tight with, just to snag Han Joo-hyuk.
Actors who step in as relief pitchers like this usually set the tone for the entire production before filming even starts. Which means...
Those bizarre rumors swirling around him or his bad habits were fixed variables, like natural disasters. You had to prepare countermeasures and handle everything else accordingly.
So, casting an actor who could "handle" Han Joo-hyuk—someone who always dropped ad-libs in intense scenes, throwing his co-stars off-balance—was an absolute must for Monster City.
Ad-libs. The ability to respond to improv was pretty crucial for this role... but
"Hmmm."
...not enough to base casting decisions on like this, the audition judges thought.
Ad-lib battle?
This isn't some theater troupe's end-of-month eval.
It's a bit much, yeah.
But they didn't voice their complaints outright—not just because they feared Ji PD's bloodshot glare after that bet with Kwak Writer in front of everyone.
They wanted to see it again.
...Curious.
Eleven applicants had already come and gone. But not one had nailed the [Odaebak] role.
Lee Tae-gyu. Ever since that unknown nobody's performance, their standards had skyrocketed.
Eye candy day.
An ad-lib showdown let you gauge an actor's situational awareness, quick thinking, and depth of skill. It was even used in theater training and evals. Big troupes often had two actors playing the same role clash freely on stage—it wasn't rare.
"Doing this in a commercial drama audition?"
"Scared?"
"Pfft. Hahaha."
Kwak Writer chuckled, fixing Ji PD with a loaded look.
"You think Kim Hwan beats Lee Tae-gyu in ad-libs? For real?"
Kwak recalled Tae-gyu, who'd even done hagak alba at weddings to hone his improv in real life.
"Do whatever. He's downstairs sipping coffee anyway."
"..."
Ji PD gritted his teeth, turned away, then nodded. The audition room door opened, and in walked Kim Hwan.
Kim Hwan. The last applicant for [Odaebak], and a DK Entertainment actor who'd lobbied Ji PD.
"Hello! Applicant 32, Kim Hwan. Please take care of me!"
"Haha, nice to meet you."
His looks screamed idol-turned-actor: clean-cut. His self-intro and quick pitch were spot-on too. Overall, nothing lacking—clean as could be.
"Hi—"
The assigned script read was the same. Clean delivery, clean interpretation, clean acting.
"Action!"
Compared to the others who'd just left, he was main-role ready without issue. But
"Thank you, good take."
Just that. Ji Cheol-geun PD sighed inwardly.
No dice. If he'd been competitive enough, he'd shove him in anyway. But the gap was too obvious, even to him.
Tap, tap, tap.
Ji drummed his pen on the table, eyeing Kim Hwan's beaming smile.
Script read? Tae-gyu wins hands down.
As expected.
"Kim Hwan-ssi."
"Yes, PD-nim!"
"By any chance..."
To beat that monster, only the ad-lib face-off left.
The monster was sipping a drink in the first-floor cafeteria.
On the table: two empty glasses he'd demolished, one half-full.
Some frappe loaded with stuff. Kwak Writer had handed him a card, told him to order whatever and wait an hour.
He'd picked the most stimulating, taste-bomb option.
"Sweet and nice..."
Cool sweetness spread. A faint smile ghosted Tae-gyu's lips as he savored it.
He had high hopes.
Reactions were solid.
Kwak had hinted at a positive outcome today. Only an idiot wouldn't grasp what it meant for a lead drama writer to treat a first-time applicant like this.
Actor, huh. Never crossed his mind before, but starring on real TV didn't sound half bad.
Money aside from the immersion. No more gositel life and odd jobs to scrape by.
If I blow up, I'll eat this stuff all the time, right?
Looking down, Tae-gyu saw the glass nearly empty.
Truth was, despite his sense of taste, he rarely indulged in good food.
One gourmet memory: ...LA ribs to my heart's content.
Recent bad vibes aside, LA ribs were still king of tasty for him.
Because he'd lived without.
When he had cash and time, he'd chased intense 'experiences' for raw emotions—no room for small joys like this.
Slurp.
But now? Different. He'd found a way to raw emotion, sustainable as a lifestyle.
Acting for a living? Could build a 'normal' daily routine like everyone else. Hope flickered.
Ditch the gositel, grab tasty eats sometimes, save spare cash, and if luck struck, a real home with a little potted plant...
As his greed stirred—
~♬~♪~♬
Phone rang. Kwak In-ho.
"Yes, Writer-nim."
He nodded, stood.
"Yes, heading up now."
Kwak had called his audition acting impressive. Basically passed, but they had one last test—the ad-lib. Could he wait? Polite request.
The hour wait wasn't just for three frappes or Kwak's determined face.
He wanted to recheck that physical change from the audition.
One flame waiting in his solar plexus.
Fwoosh! Clearly shifted. From dead center to noticeably left.
Tae-gyu tilted his head.
No way.
Standing, he pulled his goofy face. Various dokkaebi flames floated over the cafe patrons' faces.
Some tempting to copy, but
Nah, last test first.
He shook his head, refocused on necessities. Checked Kwak's message again.
Final hurdle to acting debut. He stepped toward it.
Kim Hwan was on the verge of exploding.
He didn't need to go 100% sincere in auditions like this.
But.
...Again?
That bastard Jang Team Leader. How the hell did he do his job?
Couldn't show it here, though. Making team cameras rolling, PD and writer across the table.
"Sorry, Kim Hwan-ssi. Mind waiting a bit?"
"Sure."
"We'd pick right away if we could, but it's so close..."
"Haha, no worries! I love this stuff!"
Love my ass.
"Ad-lib showdown! First time trying with another actor!"
Beaming, but he wanted to bash those judges' heads.
Ad-lib bullshit.
...Fucking annoying.
Forced smile hid seething curses. Everything pissed him off.
One: the hassle. Two: their reaction to his acting. Three: waiting for another 'applicant.'
Already pissed from yesterday's nagging.
Agency head office yesterday. Stylist whose name he forgot and older road manager swapped—probably why.
Their freakout over his prank was hilarious.
Jealous? Become a celeb then.
Kim Hwan believed the world was leads who shone and supports who propped them. Talent was innate.
Those extras should be honored he knew their names—
Click.
Audition door opened. Judges stood.
...!
The guy from the waiting room. Judges' faces lit with obvious delight.
"Wait long?"
"Ah."
"Tae-gyu-ssi."
Kim ground his teeth unwittingly. Rage flared.
Why's this extra blocking the lead? Stealing attention for nothing?
"Kim Hwan-ssi and Lee Tae-gyu-ssi. Honestly, can't split hairs between your acts. So, as we mentioned, ad-lib improv facing each other."
Ji PD's words made Kim boil.
Can't decide? Dare you?
He smirked incredulously at Tae-gyu's impassive gaze.
"Keep the Odaebak role. Imagine a duffel bag of cash center stage. Same situation as the script—fight naturally for it over three minutes."
Perfect.
Kim was the type who naturally used people as emotional dumpsters.
With no full manager or stylist, this Lee Tae-gyu punk would tank his gambling addict rage-bomb.
Obvious method actor. Looked soaked in it—probably hit real casinos.
But.
You think gambling's unique to you?
True talent wasn't about raw experience, Kim knew. Especially ad-libs—needed that sparkling something he had, or you'd flail.
I'll shred you proper.
Deep breath, locked in. Start at 100%, smash with flawless addict no extra could match. Show the talent wall.
"Alright then."
Ji PD signaled to ready Kim.
"...Action!"
In short.
Kim Hwan's heart snapped.