Fire and Water

I had never once felt summer as beautiful as I did then. Aside from those meaningless final five years, it was the only stretch of my life that had ever been this free of schedules.

With the entrance exams at the end of October just around the corner, Gam Ihyeon was hospitalized again. And I already knew that before the following spring even arrived, Gam Ihyeon would leave this world.

As October drew to a close, I headed to the Performing Arts High School for my practical exam. It was my first entrance exam in either life, so I was nervous. The school grounds were a sea of humanity, jammed with parents' cars dropping off their children.

Applicants and their families, and all the cars piled on top of that — walking through a school more crowded than a street market, I felt my heart swell.

...This school's actually nice?

I was strolling along, thinking there was no way they'd fail me as long as I didn't have terrible grades, when it happened.

The demon decided to talk to me again.

A chill almost ran down my spine, but the demon's pathetic scaaarred of him T_T bit snapped me right out of it.

That demon, hiding behind the shell of a system window, had been letting its own personality bleed through more and more lately.

But why, of all things, did it insist on acting cute?

Standing in the middle of the performing arts campus, I looked around at all the commotion.

The mastermind is here.

If that was true, then there had to be someone connected to Moby Dick Entertainment in this crowd...

"Hello, we're with Moby Dick Entertainment. Do you have an agency?"

I blinked and found a business card pressed into my hand, and the Moby Dick employee who had handed it over standing in front of me. Moby Dick staff were already prowling every corner of the school, scouting students.

Among them were employees, and no doubt plenty of actors who would sign with Moby Dick in the future.

Picking out the mastermind from that throng did not look easy.

There were a few familiar faces, at least. Some were actors I'd performed alongside.

Go easy around directors, writers, and actors. Don't barge in on them. I kept murmuring that to myself as I moved.

And then, before long, I found the cluster of people even the demon was afraid of.

The owner family of Moby Dick Entertainment.

Moby Dick Entertainment was the culture and media subsidiary of Segang Heavy Industries — a subsidiary that had since grown larger than the parent itself.

Acquired in the name of soft power, Moby Dick was, from the very beginning right up to the present, an agency and production company that stopped at nothing and spared no method to sign its actors.

And it looked like someone from that company's direct bloodline was taking the entrance exam here.

I'd never met anyone in the CEO's immediate family of Moby Dick, didn't even know their faces. Apparently none of them had debuted as actors. If they had, the media circus would have been catastrophic — there was no way I wouldn't have heard ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠about it.

But I did know the CEO's nephew, the youngest son of the Segang Heavy Industries ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chairman. We'd even acted together once.

That youngest son, Han Dohyun, was now a third-year at the performing arts school, out at the exam site to cheer on his juniors.

Without a doubt, the mastermind was in that family. So was Han Dohyun the kind of human who could make even a demon flinch?

Come to think of it, I did have a memory of locking that guy in a room for ten hours and forcing him through script readings while telling him he couldn't act... If Han Dohyun was the mastermind of Leader Actors' downfall, then this was a disaster I had invited upon myself.

A flicker of guilt almost surfaced — and then I crushed it immediately. Hadn't I spent twenty-three years of my own lifespan on that little demon pretending to be cute, just to earn this chance? If Han Dohyun really was the mastermind, everything got easier. In this life, all I had to do was not lock him up for ten hours.

I'd have to compliment his acting, too. Even if it'd be a lie.

But just as that thought was settling, the demon suddenly went berserk.

It's mocking me about the lifespan it's the one taking.

Well, whatever. It did hand me this opportunity, that much was true.

I ignored the demon nattering at my heels, found a chair, and sat down.

It had been a long time since my last audition. I was about to get a little nervous again, but watching the kids around me who were far more nervous than I was calmed me right down.

I was running through the script one final time when the sun swung around and started glaring into my face. I glanced about, then went and sat in front of the enormous student whose back was to that window, borrowing him as a sunshade.

Well aware that he was being used as my personal shade, the boy with the name-tag sticker reading WOO WOONGBAE glanced at me sideways. Then he spoke.

"So you would use a man as your shadow."

...What is with that speech pattern?

Wait, was he even talking to me? Or just monologuing?

"Aye, so be it. If even so humble a vessel as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my weak flesh can be of service..."

I snapped fully awake.

Something about the way he talked was off. Could it be? Was this the one? The person even the demon had been wary of?

I asked Woo Woongbae directly.

"...Have you, by any chance, made a contract with a demon?"

Woo Woongbae flinched visibly. But a moment later he nodded, as if he understood everything now.

"Ah, so that's the premise we're working with."

"...Premise?"

"I have not made such a pact myself, but if you say you have, I shall accept it as true."

With that, he offered me a handshake.

"My name is Woo Woongbae."

He stretched out the Woo Woong part as he said it.

I gave a small nod and pointed at my own name tag.

Then I went back to my script. Every time the sun shifted, I shifted with it, following Woo Woongbae's shadow around until my name was finally called and I went in.

The moment I stepped inside, I could feel it — nobody in that room had any real interest in me.

I've done enough auditions to know. It wasn't that they didn't care about me; they'd already seen my face and decided to pass me before I opened my mouth.

"I'll begin."

I did the free acting piece and the monologue, then sat for a camera test in a quiet, subdued atmosphere. Standing in front of a camera again after so long — it felt good.

I finished everything I'd prepared and was about to walk ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out when I remembered Do Jaeyeon's parting instruction — greet them before you leave — and gave a small bow.

Back outside, I found Woo Woongbae just finishing up his own practical. Apparently he was applying to the film production department.

Woo Woongbae said to me:

"So you are the one who made a pact with a demon."

He was a strange one, no doubt — but even the demon clicked its tongue at him, and he didn't look like the kind of trash that deserved it. I asked.

"You pass?"

"I shall pass."

Woo Woongbae didn't ask whether I'd passed. He just looked me up and down once and nodded. He clearly had a good eye — the fundamentals of a filmmaker were already there.

Then neither of us said anything for a while.

Is this... maybe what being friends is like?

The expression on Woo Woongbae's face said he was having the exact same thought.

For someone who had never had anything resembling a friend in either lifetime, I had no idea whether this was really the beginning of one of those dramas' storied friendships.

And even if we did become friends — what was I supposed to do after that? What came next? I sat there with my mouth shut, and eventually Woo Woongbae broke the silence.

"Do you like films?"

"Yeah."

"Then let us go see one."

His speech pattern was a bit odd, but nobody turns down an invitation to the movies. So I followed Woo Woongbae, and we went to see one.

The performing arts school's acting department class of '26 would admit a total of seventy-eight students across two classes — and nearly seven hundred applicants came flooding in.

Weeding out the top-tier students wasn't difficult. The problem was the one nobody had predicted.

"God, please let them both come to our school. Both of them."

Talented as they were, they were still middle schoolers.

Few acting teachers expected blazing performances at an entrance exam. Of course, the occasional student did turn up with acting ability that defied their age — but those cases were rare, and ones whose looks measured up to their skill rarer still. And at that age, there was no guaranteeing how they'd develop once they became adults.

Except this year.

Two incoming students had arrived who were overwhelming in both acting and appearance.

Choosing between them looked close to impossible.

Applicant No. 119 — Han Jeonghyun

Applicant No. 298 — Lee Heeyoon

If seven hundred students were raw ore, then these two were already gemstones finished by the hand of the finest master craftsman. Raw ore might become anything — but these two had already been proven, and were taking the first step of great actors.

As seen through a camera lens, the two faces were nothing alike.

No. 119 carried a sharp, dangerous edge; No. 298 had a beautiful, unblemished boyishness.

You'd think comparison would require some similarity — but from acting style to overall aura, they differed in every respect. Comparison itself was simply impossible.

No. 119 performed as though he had summoned the very person out of the script and into the room — fierce and overwhelming. No. 298 performed as though he himself had dissolved into that play's world — smooth as flowing water.

Perfect opposites, no need to say it twice. Fire and water. Light and darkness.

"Combined, acting and looks — aren't these the highest scores in the school's history?"

"And of course the two highest scorers had to land in the same year..."

"Run it as many times as you like, it's a tie."

"Well, if we absolutely must pick one... the one from the harder circumstances, then."

It was the only answer possible.

Compared to Han Jeonghyun — the son of Moby Dick's CEO, born with a diamond spoon in his mouth by industry standards, whose most "unfortunate" trait was having a driver ferry him around in place of busy parents — placing the unattached, nothing-to-his-name Lee Heeyoon at the top of the class was better in every way.

In the days right after the exam, I watched movie after movie with Woo Woongbae.

We never talked; we only watched. So I learned absolutely nothing about him — except that his family was fairly well-off, and that he had the entire third floor of his family's three-story building to himself.

We sat there, or sprawled there, watching films, until partway through one Woo Woongbae spoke up.

"I have a proposal concerning our friendship."

"Which is?"

"I have no curiosity about you whatsoever. But my mother and father appear to be curious."

"I'm an orphan."

"Mm. I suspected as much."

"Why?"

"..."

Woo Woongbae, who until now had seemed to have an answer for every question, went silent. His eyes flicked to his phone for the briefest instant, and I understood why.

The three people at Leader Actors asked constantly, almost obsessively, where I was and how I was doing. Even Park Seonyoung, who practically lived at the hospital with Gam Ihyeon, checked in on me without fail.

But apart from them, not a single person contacted me. And that included my own family.

That a sixteen-year-old could go without hearing from his family no matter how late the night ran — that, apparently, had been the clue for Woo Woongbae.

If he knew I was an orphan, what would the parents of this other almost-friend even want to know about me?

"No drinking, no smoking yet."

"That is good news."

"I live at actor Gam Ihyeon's house. Freeloading, basically. Used to live at my uncle's place, but he beat me too much, so I left."

"Though we have but just met, would it be permitted for me to call your uncle a garbage son of a bitch?"

"Call him whatever you want."

As I answered and reached to restart the movie, Woo Woongbae gave my back a light tap.

Since becoming an adult I'd gotten over it, but back then I was razor-wired about anyone touching me. Terrified things would turn violent in an instant, I flinched hard.

So I knocked his arm away immediately — overreacting, even by my own assessment.

"What the hell, you bastard."

The curse slipped out before I could stop it.

Woo Woongbae shoved me back, lightly. I shoved back too... but raw strength simply didn't register against that giant, so I gave up on the spot. Then, still bristling, I snapped at him.

"Don't touch me."

After that, the air went dead. I had no idea how I was supposed to behave when something like this happened. This was always the sequence: panic first, then bare my teeth, then this.

This was how my relationships usually ended. Thinking about it now, some of that loneliness probably had its roots in the aftermath of domestic violence too.

Right. What friends did I even have, anyway? I should just head back to Wooheonjeong — that was exactly what I was thinking when the phone rang.

For Woo Woongbae.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Yes, thank you."

Woo Woongbae said his piece and hung up. And almost immediately after, the same number rang — for me.

It was the performing arts school.

Somehow, my answers had come in the exact same order as Woo Woongbae's. Probably because the content had been identical, too.