Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Street Casting
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“Yawn...”
I opened my eyes amid the faint morning sunlight filtering through the curtains.
Rubbing my eyes, I shuffled into the living room and spotted a woman sitting at the dining table—not my biological mother.
“Oh, you're here?”
“Oh, hey. Morning, Sarang.”
Her hair was dyed a deep blonde, cascading down past her shoulders.
Her face was undeniably beautiful, but the scars on her cheeks and forehead gave her a fierce, intimidating look.
“How's school going?”
“Good. How about you, Yu-na Aunt?”
“Me? Same as always.”
Jeong Yu-na. That was the name of the woman sitting in front of me.
She managed the establishment where my biological mother worked.
And from what I'd heard, she oversaw several such places.
I didn't know the full details, but she was clearly someone with considerable influence.
Of course, none of it was exactly legal. She'd come home once with a bunch of thugs who looked like gangsters trailing behind her.
“Did Mom borrow money again?”
There were usually only two reasons she visited our house.
One was when Mom borrowed money from the establishment and couldn't pay it back.
Or...
“Nah, just dropping by for a visit.”
Thank goodness it was the latter.
Even if they were boss and employee, the two seemed pretty close—at least on the surface.
“Speaking of which, Sarang, you're still dressing like that, huh?”
Yu-na Aunt scanned me up and down with a sigh.
“It's comfortable.”
“Where do you even get guys' underwear from every time...”
I was wearing an oversized shirt that fell to my knees, with men's boxers underneath.
It was the same even when I put on my school uniform pants for class.
Maybe because of memories from my past life, but this felt way more comfortable all around. Men's trunks were cheaper than women's underwear too, so my biological mother didn't complain much.
“I'm gonna go wash up.”
“Sure.”
Covering a yawn with my hand, I headed to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, I made a V-sign with my fingers and flashed a smile at my lips.
'Looking pretty today too.'
If I just kept growing like this, I'd turn into quite the head-turner someday.
Assuming no weird mutations got in the way.
I roughly soaped up my body and hair before coming out, and Yu-na Aunt waved me over. Ugh, hassle.
“It's been a while since I saw you, Sarang, so here's some pocket money.”
My eyes lit up at that.
The golden bill in her hand made my lips twitch reflexively.
“Yu-na Aunt.”
What could I do? I ran over and clung to her affectionately.
Auntie hugged me and patted my back.
“I like you more than Mom.”
“Haha, Sarang. Isn't that a bit too materialistic?”
“No, really.”
It might look like I'd sold out for cash, but I meant it.
At least Yu-na Aunt looked out for me like this sometimes.
Pleased by my words, she stroked my hair. So much for fixing it up earlier.
“Still, our little Sarang's grown up so sensible.
Even with your mom like that, you're turning out bright and wonderful.”
Hmm, fair point.
She had a point there.
“I think it's because of you, Yu-na Aunt.”
Hiding my true feelings, I buttered her up.
My way of earning that golden bill.
Damn, now I sound just like my biological mom.
“Next time, Auntie'll treat you to some meat.”
“Really? I love meat.”
“Hehe, so cute.”
I noticed scars on the back of her hand as she petted me.
Scary, sure, but right now, she was the good adult slipping me pocket money.
“I'm off, Aunt!”
“Alright.”
I dashed out of the house with an energetic goodbye.
Half of it felt like fleeing.
It took about 40 minutes to walk from home to school.
Whenever I saw parents driving their kids to school along the way, envy hit hard.
“Ahh, won't some chaebol come scoop me up?”
No need to worry about the gangsters coming and going from home, and maybe a bit of warmth inside the house.
In other TS possession novels, everyone got pampered and grew up fine. Why's my fate the only rough one?
“Hey, Sarang!”
Lost in such thoughts while walking, a cheerful voice grabbed me.
I turned. A black-haired Korean girl was approaching with a friendly smile.
Uh... what was her name again?
With so many kids greeting me, I forgot names sometimes.
Best to play it off vaguely.
“Hey! Good morning.”
“Yeah, good morning. You're pretty as always, Sarang.”
“Huh? Nah. You're prettier.”
“Pfft, no way anyone'd agree.”
The nameless girl beamed at my words.
Luckily, she didn't catch on that I forgot her name.
Naturally, I linked arms with her and walked to school together.
Go to school, attend classes, eat the one joy of school—lunch—doze off a few times, and another day slips away.
This routine would repeat until compulsory education ended.
Or so I thought, while walking home arm-in-arm with my classmate.
Until a certain man called out to me.
“Excuse me, miss, any interest in showbiz?”
“Pardon?”
“Ah, here's my card.”
A man in a neat semi-formal suit handed me his business card.
“I'm Park Sung-chul from BlueNMI Entertainment.”
“Whoa, no way.”
My arm-linked friend covered her mouth, eyes wide.
She leaned in excitedly, whispering in my ear.
“Whoa, first time seeing street casting IRL.”
She seemed more thrilled than me.
While the actual target—me—was still baffled.
“Showbiz meaning idols?”
I unlinked arms from my hyped-up friend and looked at the man.
The height difference meant I had to crane my neck quite a bit.
He glanced at the name tag on my chest and smiled warmly.
“That's the big one, yeah. In my eyes, Han Sarang, you've got the charm and potential for it.”
My friend nodded in agreement beside me.
I knew I was on the pretty side.
So I didn't bother denying it. That'd just make me seem ungracious.
“No way... BlueNMI's the one with Mimix, right?”
My friend, now pulling out her phone to search, gasped in awe.
Honestly, I wasn't sure how famous they were. I wasn't big into idols anyway.
“What do you say? If it's too much pressure, you could just try an audition, no strings attached.”
“No, I'm good.”
Was that too blunt?
The man blinked blankly for a moment.
“Not really into idols.”
“Shame. You've definitely got the appeal.”
“Aw... there are so many better than me out there.”
Everyone knew idols slaved away.
Singing till their throats gave out, practicing choreography till their feet blistered.
And even after grinding for years to debut, would success follow?
One wrong word, and the whole nation piles on the hate, straight to retirement.
A hand brush with the wrong guy? Scandals and malicious comments galore.
No matter how I looked at it, not a sane career choice. Only carefree optimists might consider it.
Better to be a broadcaster—cause a stir outright, take a 'hiatus' for months, and bounce back.
That reaffirmed my dream: broadcaster.
“Got it. Thanks for your time, Han Sarang.”
The man smiled without much lingering regret and bowed politely.
Strangely, my friend seemed more disappointed than me.
Still, thanks to this guy, my mood was great. Even an industry pro saw star potential in my face.
So it'd definitely work on TV someday.
'Not much in return, but...'
I decided to give him a nice goodbye.
Hadn't done it since elementary school—got confessions right away. This guy looked mid-to-late thirties; probably safe.
I curved my lips into a smile, teeth hidden.
Added a soft eye smile, lashes gently shading my eyes, and stepped closer.
“Still, thanks for the offer, sir. I was really happy.”
“Uh, uh... sure.”
The man stepped back.
He looked pretty flustered, for some reason.
Did he hate it?
Nah, no way.
I'm pretty.
“See ya.”
I turned, leaving the dazed man behind.
Humming along, I spotted a trash can by the road and tossed the business card.
Street casting, huh. Gives me a story to spill on TV later.
Idol groups have all sorts of positions.
Main vocal, sub-vocal. Main dancer, rapper, and so on.
Dance, song, rap—everyone fills their role based on their strengths.
But sometimes, there's that type of person.
Someone who doesn't excel at any of it but still draws all the attention.
Subpar dancing, middling vocals. Yet they inexplicably win hearts.
Just stick 'em in the back row, and boom—a fandom forms.
Good looks alone aren't enough. They need unreal beauty.
Or that innate charm that captivates crowds.
“...Damn.”
Park Sung-chul only realized his heart was racing after zoning out for a good while.
He stared at the girl's retreating figure.
This was definitely excitement.
Not romantic, of course.
At thirty-five, catching feelings for a middle schooler not even done shedding baby fat? He'd be in handcuffs pronto.
This feeling ran deeper.
Like a miner spotting a diamond vein. A desert wanderer finding an oasis.
When was the last time he'd felt this? It reminded him of first meeting Han Sea-ah.
The girl looked ready-made for stardom, pretty as could be.
Her pale pink-tinged eyes drew gazes effortlessly.
But this thrill wasn't from her looks.
'That smile.'
The one she'd flashed at the end.
It had the power to move hearts.
Talent.
Twelve years in the biz, and his experience screamed it.
Raw gem. Polish the basics in dance and song, and she'd have star quality in spades.
Convinced, Park Sung-chul bolted after her.
“Han Sarang!”
“Eek.”
The girl scowled warily.
Did I look too desperate running over?
Park Sung-chul caught his breath and flashed a calm smile.
“Ah, I wanted to talk more with you, Han Sarang. Got a minute?”
Her pale pink eyes flicked sideways.
A brief silence hung between them.
“...Sure. But follow me?”
The girl accepted his offer with a subtle smile.