Casting Call
I pulled a hot dog out of the black plastic bag, took a huge bite, and answered casually.
“If you eat all that, you won’t have room for dinner.”
“Don’t they say girls have a separate stomach just for dessert? Since I’m a girl now, I must have one too. The mysteries of the human body are truly amazing!”
The intense mix of sugar and ketchup flooded my mouth. This is happiness.
There was only one thing I regretted.
…Ketchup just isn’t the same without Heinz.
Even my favorite ketchup brand from my previous life didn’t exist on this Earth. I had no idea what it had been renamed to. Even if I tracked it down, it would probably be years before it was imported, distributed, and cheap enough for me to buy regularly.
“Anyway, back to business… Director Lee Jung-moon’s The Garden Where Love Blooms has already started filming. There was no script reading, no time to get to know the other actors, and you’re literally being parachuted in through Director Lee. You sure you’re okay with that?”
If you dissected the sentence, it sounded like she was extremely worried about the situation. But the reason it came across more like I’m asking if you’re okay, but if you say you’re not, I’ll kill you was probably because we were twins. Her tone was starting to resemble mine more and more.
Whatever the case, Yoon Ji-ah was right. Adult actors generally didn’t like child actors. Unless they had an unusual fondness for kids, that is. Most child actors caused more NGs than the adults, broke immersion, and made the set noisy. Both the cast and crew found things more exhausting the moment a child actor showed up.
And a child actor hand-picked by Director Lee Jung-moon himself? One with the label “parachute” attached? How many people would actually welcome that? One mistake and I’d be torn apart from all sides while dragging Director Lee’s reputation down with me.
“But… Director Lee Jung-moon isn’t an idiot. He must have seen something in me to cast me, right?”
I had no idea what that something was. Maybe the flexible facial muscles I’d trained by teasing Ji-ah since we were little? Or the natural acting skills I’d honed by tormenting her while pretending I hadn’t? I couldn’t tell what had caught the director’s eye.
Surely he didn’t just cast me because I’m cute, pretty, and lovable.
That would be an absolutely hopeless situation.
I meticulously picked off every last scrap of batter stuck to the hot dog stick and chewed while lost in thought.
Director Lee Jung-moon was a legend. He’d directed Age of Passion, which boasted an average rating of 46 percent and a peak of 64.5 percent, along with countless other dramas that everyone recognized by name.
…But how does Ji-ah even know all this?
Sometimes I wondered if she was the one who’d received reincarnation perks and system assistance while I was the one bashing my head against a wall with nothing. She knew far too much for a mere human being. Back in kindergarten, I’d once bragged that I knew pi to ten decimal places. She’d immediately rattled off over a hundred digits. If I hadn’t stopped her, she probably would have gone to a thousand. Maybe even ten thousand.
But that wasn’t the point.
Anyway, it made no sense for someone like Director Lee Jung-moon to impulsively ask the writer to add a role just because a kid was cute. There had to be some unique selling point about me that even I didn’t fully understand yet. Something that would sell as an actor.
“I don’t know exactly what it is, but I sensed something similar. That’s why I recommended you to the entertainment industry.”
“Oh, so you’ve got master-level discernment too?”
“I won’t deny it.”
“…Annoying.”
I frowned and pulled a fish-shaped pastry out of the plastic bag. Red bean, not custard. The classic choice. I took a big bite starting from the head.
“But sis.”
“What?”
“Are you really confident about acting? It’ll be different from the everyday acting you do in front of us.”
Yoon Ji-ah stopped walking and stared straight at me. Her eyes behind the lens-less glasses were dead serious. Full serious mode, zero playfulness. She could be a little scary like this. What on earth had she done in her past life? No matter how many times I asked, she refused to tell me.
I stopped chewing the pastry. If I answered honestly whether I was confident… it was fifty-fifty. I’d never acted in my previous life, and it wasn’t even close to my field. Everyday social acting and realistic daily performance were things every human did, so they didn’t count.
But.
“What if I’m not confident? You’re the one who told me to become an entertainer. You’re the one who said we’d build a media empire.”
I stuffed the rest of the pastry into my mouth in one go and grinned.
“There’s only one thing I’m confident about. My shamelessness.”
That was probably why I didn’t suffer from stage fright or camera anxiety. Because I was shameless.
At my baseless confidence, Ji-ah let out a small snort of laughter.
“Yeah, shamelessness is definitely your greatest weapon.”
“Yep, and I’m not even a little thankful~”
We started walking again.
When we arrived home, an unfamiliar motorcycle was parked in front of the entrance. A delivery driver wearing a helmet was in the middle of handing Mom a thick envelope.
“Is this the Yoon Seo-ah residence?”
“Yes? Yes, it is. She’s my daughter.”
“It’s supposed to be signed for by the recipient.”
“She’s still a minor, so I’m her guardian… Oh, there she is now.”
“In cases like this, a parent’s signature is fine.”
The professional delivery driver spotted me holding a sausage, had me sign the terminal, and vanished like the wind.
“What is it?”
Ji-ah, Mom, and I stood in the entryway and peered at the envelope. It was from KBC’s drama department, and my name was written on the recipient line. When we opened it, inside was the script for Director Lee Jung-moon’s drama The Garden Where Love Blooms.
“Wow… he really is something else.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. We hadn’t even negotiated the appearance fee yet. My parents hadn’t given their consent, and I hadn’t even officially said yes. Yet he’d sent the script by express delivery. The sheer audacity almost made me weak in the knees. It felt like a performance meant to show just how badly he needed me and how urgent it was.
Maybe that level of drive was what made someone a legend. His propulsion was practically jet-engine level.
“S-Seo-ah? What is all this? Director Lee Jung-moon?”
I pulled the director’s business card from my pocket and handed it to Mom.
“He’s the PD who directed Age of Passion. He came to school for filming and ended up casting me.”
“Age of Passion?!”
It went without saying that it was Mom and Dad’s absolute favorite drama. Mom’s hand trembled slightly as she took the card. The one who calmed her down right before she could freak out was Ji-ah.
“Mom, let’s go inside and talk first.”
“Huh? Oh, right, right. Let’s go in.”
Once inside, we placed the script on the dining table and sat around it in a circle. Mom stroked the script like it was some sacred object while Ji-ah spoke.
“This isn’t confirmed yet. We haven’t signed a contract and we don’t know the conditions.”
“That’s true… but the fact that the director sent the script himself must mean he definitely wants her, right?”
“It does, but we still need to review the contract terms carefully and consider everything. We don’t even have an agency.”
I pulled out a prepackaged chicken skewer, chewed on it, and skimmed the script. The Garden Where Love Blooms. Yeah, the title was pretty lame.
“We should show Dad when he gets home. Call Grandma and Grandpa, ask Uncle too…”
It sounded a bit too country-bumpkin, but considering his previous work was Age of Passion, it was actually an improvement…
“Our Seo-ah is going to be an actress! A celebrity! A real celebrity!”
Mom, who I’d expected to be the most opposed to me becoming an entertainer, was still stroking the script and practically chugging imaginary kimchi soup.
“Mom, calm down. It’s not confirmed yet. They’re inserting me into a drama that already has its entire filming schedule set. If the conditions don’t match, I won’t do it.”
“B-but it’s Director Lee Jung-moon… It’s Age of Passion…”
“Come on, it’s not like the director is going to feed us.”
Actually, he had fed me quite a few snacks. Anyway.
While we waited for Dad, I decided to read the script. The moment I flipped to the first page, a sticky note was attached to it.
Please contact the number below after receiving the script.
— AD Kim Min-jae
“We’ll call after talking with Dad. For now, let’s read the script!”
I peeled the sticky note off and was about to start reading when—
“…Let’s wait until Dad gets home and read it together.”
Even though I’d clearly seen her eyes glued to the script just moments ago. Our husband-obsessed mother apparently thought it would be too cruel to read it without him first. I coolly closed the script and grabbed a comic book instead. Ji-ah brought out a notebook and started writing something. Only Mom kept fidgeting restlessly, constantly glancing at the clock.
I told you we should’ve just read it.
At seven in the evening, the electronic lock beeped and Dad came home from work.
“Honey, I’m home. Kids, Dad’s back!”
Normally we would’ve run out to greet him, but today the atmosphere was completely different. The script sat solemnly in the living room, surrounded by all of us. Mom’s eyes looked like they were about to burst with blood vessels.
“…W-what’s going on? Why are you all like this?”
Mom immediately launched into a rapid-fire explanation. The filming at school, Director Lee Jung-moon, the casting offer, the express delivery. Dad, who hadn’t even changed out of his work clothes, stared at me blankly.
“The… the director who made Age of Passion wants our Seo-ah?”
“Yeah. He basically begged me to act. Said I was a genius. Said there was no one else but me.”
I answered shamelessly. That was pretty much the vibe he’d given off.
…Wasn’t it?
If not, I could always say I must have misunderstood later. That was the special privilege of babies and the right of children. And I was a very clever, smart elementary schooler who knew exactly how to use the opportunities and rights given to me.