Chapter 8: Will 1 million won be enough?

The Day of the Second Audition: “This is How I Became an Actress”

“Here, how about this role for her?”

At Choi Hee-won PD’s suggestion, writer Lee Geum-sook shook her head.

“I’ve told you several times, it doesn’t suit her.”

“Writer Lee, please hear the reasoning behind my judgment.”

“I can already guess without hearing it. You’re saying the role fits Sua because of her age and gender, aren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“No way. That role has to go to someone who looks more pitiful.”

Their opinions clashed without narrowing. Choi Hee-won crossed his arms.

“Weren’t you planning to include Sua in your next project? The rest of the roles are all male.”

“I can rewrite the script if I need to. If we hastily assign her just any role, it’ll ruin everything. You know that, don’t you?”

In the end, Choi Hee-won nodded in agreement.

“Hmm, you’re not wrong. Let’s watch Sua’s performance at today’s second audition and decide afterward.”

Finally, writer Lee Geum-sook smiled faintly.

“To be honest, I feel like skipping the audition and offering her a drama role right away, but I’m too curious to see what she’ll bring to the second round. I can’t bring myself to say anything yet. I feel bad for Sua, though.”

“Agreed. Still, this might not be a bad thing. We haven’t settled on what role to propose for her yet. Watching her a bit longer might give us some ideas.”

“Exactly!”

Although they weren’t particularly close, the two of them forgot that fact entirely, engrossed in their lively chatter. The reason was obvious—Lee Sua. The monstrous contestant who appeared like a comet.

While the two talked without pause…

“Wow, you actually came along?”

Seo Yeon-ju spoke to Kim Sun-il.

“I don’t lie.”

“So, what do you think after seeing the contestants? I don’t see anyone standing out. Maybe it’s because of Lee Sua. Ever since her performance, everything else seems average.”

“Seo Yeon-ju.”

Kim Sun-il called her name coldly.

“For an actor, being good at acting is the bare minimum.”

“That comment just now implies that you at least admit Sua was good at acting, doesn’t it? Idiot.”

Ignoring Seo Yeon-ju, who clicked her tongue in annoyance, Kim Sun-il quietly revisited the scene he’d watched on TV the day before.

The vividness. The raw desperation. The seasoned execution.

“Yeah, she was good. Really good at acting.”

Kim Sun-il was quick to acknowledge what deserved acknowledgment.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Being good at acting. It’s not enough.”

It was just that his standards were higher and stricter.

Had Kim Sun-il been a judge on *This is How I Became an Actress*, he would have applauded without hesitation. Lee Sua was clearly a standout among the contestants.

But.

This wasn’t about judging a competition. This was about choosing someone to work with on a drama. Of course, his standards were going to be stringent.

Seo Yeon-ju furrowed her brows.

“Then what else do you think she needs?”

“The ability to read scripts. The attitude toward handling them.”

Kim Sun-il fiddled with the script for the second audition.

“For starters, this second audition script? It’s garbage.”

“It can’t be helped, can it? PD Son Ji-woong is a variety show PD. The script is bound to be provocative since it’s for a mission.”

“You know it well. That’s why I call it garbage.”

The second audition script: a torture scene.

In Kim Sun-il’s mind, several video clips seemed to play out already.

(5 million views!) Torture reaction of Contestant XXX!
Always spine-chilling: XXX’s torture acting!

A mission script, designed for creating sensational YouTube clips. It was merely provocative with no room for true differentiation.

Disgusting. Revolting.

His perfectionism didn’t stop at hygiene. If anything, it was even more extreme when it came to acting.

Acting for the sake of crafting a drama masterpiece and acting provocatively like a sideshow to chase views—these two were fundamentally different. And he hated it.

Seo Yeon-ju shook her head, clearly fed up.

“Ugh, so annoying. Then what attitude do you expect them to have?”

“At the very least, they shouldn’t act thoughtlessly and just put in effort blindly.”

Kim Sun-il didn’t want *just any actor doing their best in a mediocre way* to take part in Lee Geum-sook’s next project—the very project that had made him cheer so fervently.

Did the actor have a clear understanding of the role they were aiming for?

Did they grasp the key points of the script?

Did they have a solid understanding of their relationships with other characters?

Of course, acting skills were a given, but he wanted only top-tier actors capable of recognizing the true value of the script to participate. Only under such conditions could a masterpiece be born.

And so, today, Kim Sun-il was determined to dig deep.

How would Lee Sua react to the second script?

Would she have the courage to call out a lousy script for what it was? Did she have conviction in her own acting?

Could she recognize the brilliance in this writer’s script?

But just then, the unexpected happened.

“A…! I’m so sorry…!”

The door slammed open, and PD Son Ji-woong burst into the judges’ waiting room, looking as though he might cry at any moment.

“Contestant Lee Sua… she’s not coming! No matter how much I call her, she won’t come!”

“…!”

It didn’t take long for the other judges to react, leaping to their feet one by one.

“She forfeited on her own?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well…!”

PD Son Ji-woong, on the verge of tears, stammered, “She said she didn’t like the second script…! She said no…!”

Amidst the judges’ collective shock, Kim Sun-il’s eyes widened, his focus sharpening at last.

—

Meanwhile, in Sua’s tiny apartment.

*[Let’s Live Diligently!]*

Sua had taped a large printed sign to her wall. With the special perks unlocked, the second chapter of her life had officially begun.

“I’m going to live diligently. Diligently!”

Resolute, Sua sat in front of her computer.

Suddenly, her phone call with PD Son Ji-woong crossed her mind.

—”What? No, you’re joking, right?”

─”Sua, it wouldn’t be hard for someone of your skill, would it?”

—”That’s not the issue.”

─”Sua, please, just reconsider.”

—”This is such a great opportunity for you too, Sua.”

─”Sua…!”

—”I’m sorry.”

Although Sua’s final call with PD Son Ji-woong ended rather coldly, she didn’t feel a shred of regret.

“Wow, I really dodged a bullet…”

No, in fact, she felt relieved and even happy. Experience that ridiculous torture scene? Why on earth would she?

Of course, Son Ji-woong had a point.

—”This is such a great opportunity for you too, Sua.”

That much was true. Gaining recognition through the audition would undoubtedly be good. But if someone asked whether that was her only option, the answer would be no.

“Hehe, I’ve got my third perk.”

Yes, the unique power the world had granted only to her. With this, she could gradually build her filmography, step by step.

As a result, the current Sua was…

“This one’s out… that one’s out too… Oh? Is this one worth it?”

She was browsing through actor recruitment notices on the internet, sorting through them as casually as someone filling their cart at a supermarket.

[Seeking actors for Hyunyoung University project film]
[Casting actors for the short film “Salt”]
[Looking for actors for a hospital web drama]
[Recruiting for “Crosswalk” (working title)!]

Of course, not everything caught her eye. She filtered through the listings, focusing only on those with attached scripts. Missing the chance to evaluate the potential success in advance wasn’t an option, after all.

“Oh, and always review the script with my own eyes before any auditions.”

Sua emphasized this to herself like a mantra.

The thought of walking in blind and ending up in another torture scene was horrifying. She meticulously reviewed every script she downloaded.

After some time, Sua managed to apply to just two opportunities.

(Application) [Casting actors for energy drink commercial]

First, this one. Even though it was a beverage ad, it included a script. Upon completing her experience, she confirmed its rating: a solid 2 stars.

(Application)  [Short historical film “Sword”]

This one also earned a 2-star rating. She applied immediately.

“Phew…”

Though she felt a bit nervous, as though this marked the true beginning of her journey, Sua decided to trust in her perks and herself. After all, if she couldn’t trust herself, she couldn’t do anything.

In truth, she had gained a fair amount of confidence compared to before.

“Should I call it ‘experience proficiency’? It feels like I’ve improved a bit.”

The aftereffects—headaches, trembling, uncontrollable emotions—that used to follow her experiences seemed to be diminishing. For Sua, this was a very welcome development.

Moreover…

She recalled a random line from one of the scripts she had recently experienced.

“Your sword feels heavy. It’s not as though anyone else is holding it.”

After speaking, she nodded in agreement, accompanied by a brief exclamation of admiration.

“Oh.”

She had the entire line memorized. Once again, Sua realized just how special her unique perk truly was.

“Hehe.”

Sua began browsing through the casting notices again.

This was turning out to be more fun and exciting than she had imagined.

Experiencing scripts.

And submitting applications while imagining her future.

For the first time, Sua’s barren life had found motivation, and she allowed herself a tiny glimmer of hope.

Not long after, her phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number.

“…Ugh, an unknown number.”

Sua frowned instinctively.

Having dabbled in everything from soccer to basketball to Pilates in an effort to find her calling, Sua had become wary of unknown numbers.

Sometimes it was a call from a job she had already quit, or from a sports club she had left long ago. Whatever the case, she hated it. Now that she had even withdrawn from the audition, she figured there was no need to answer every call.

She ignored the first call without a second thought.

However.

When the calls kept coming, she had no choice but to answer. Typically, spam calls or phishing schemes didn’t persist this much.

“Hello. This is Kim Seon-il.”

The first words were spoken in a low voice.

After a moment of silence, Sua hung up.

No matter how she thought about it, she didn’t know anyone by that name.

But the phone rang again.

“Hello? Isn’t this Lee Sua’s number?”

“Who is this?”

Someone who knew her?

Who could it be? She tilted her head in confusion.

“It’s me, actor Kim Seon-il.”

The voice was laced with irritation, and Sua felt her own irritation rising in response.

“I don’t know who you are.”

“What…?”

Thinking it was a malicious prank call, she was about to hang up again when—

“Make some time for me. How about 1 million won for your travel expenses?”

“No, thank you?”

What kind of weird phishing scam was this?