이 포스팅은 쿠팡 파트너스 활동의 일환으로, 이에 따른 일정액의 수수료를 제공받습니다.
Chapter 119: Faces on the Script
The script reading began at 10:00 AM sharp. As PD Park Mi-ra entered the room, the sounds around the table ceased. The rustling of papers, the low murmurs, and the scraping of chairs all stopped. It was as if someone had grasped the volume knob and slowly turned it down, diminishing the sounds in the studio. The clicking of Park Mi-ra’s heels on the floor was the only sound that remained, a sharp and warning-like noise. Min-joon only noticed Park Mi-ra’s short stature, probably around 160 centimeters, when he heard the sound of her heels. However, her small frame seemed to command the entire studio, as if she was pulling all the air towards her.
She took her seat at the head of the table, and the assistant director followed, opening his laptop. Two more people entered, one who appeared to be a writer and another with a Netflix badge on his chest. Min-joon glanced at the badge and quickly looked away, the cool glow of the logo captivating his attention for a moment. As he did, the words on the script pages seemed to sharpen, like an image appearing on a screen.
“Hello,” Park Mi-ra said, her voice low and dry, devoid of any warmth. It didn’t sound like a greeting, but rather a confirmation of their presence. Min-joon felt a sense of tension in her voice, and his fingertips grew cold. He couldn’t recall when his hands had become so chilly.
The script reading began with episode one, and as Park Mi-ra read the opening lines, the actors started to immerse themselves in their characters. Min-joon finally understood who Lee Ji-ho was – the friend of the main character, Han Jeong-hyeon. Or, more precisely, the person who seemed to be his friend. As the story progressed, it became unclear whether Lee Ji-ho was a real person or just a figment of Han Jeong-hyeon’s imagination. At some point in the story, it was revealed that Lee Ji-ho was dead, yet he continued to appear. Min-joon thought about this as he turned the pages, the sound of the paper rustling. His fingertips felt cold, and he couldn’t remember when they had become so chilly.
As the reading began, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Park Mi-ra started to read, and the actors found their voices. Kim Jae-won read Han Jeong-hyeon’s lines in a deep, unstable tone, as if he might forget who he was at any moment. Choi Yu-na, playing the role of Han Jeong-hyeon’s wife, had a voice that was a mix of endurance and despair. As she read her lines, her voice dropped, like she was sinking.
“Jeong-hyeon, you’re doing it again. Telling the same story,” Choi Yu-na read, her words carrying the weight of years of suffering. Min-joon felt like she was actually sinking, her voice conveying the desperation.
Min-joon’s first line appeared in episode three. He looked at the marked page, and Lee Ji-ho was trying to comfort Han Jeong-hyeon. No, that wasn’t it – Lee Ji-ho was trying to confirm Han Jeong-hyeon’s existence. “Jeong-hyeon, do you really know I’m here?” Min-joon read, and for a moment, Park Mi-ra’s voice stopped. The assistant director scribbled something on his laptop. Min-joon couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad sign, but at least he existed, able to make a sound at the table.
The reading took three hours, with two breaks in between. During the first break, Min-joon went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His face was reflected back, with eyes that looked like they belonged to someone who had stayed up all night. But around his mouth, there was something different – tension, or perhaps focus. It made him look different, like he was questioning whether this was the real him or the him he was acting out.
The second break brought Kim Jae-won over to Min-joon. “Is this your first time?” he asked. Min-joon replied that it was his first time working on a drama of this scale. Kim Jae-won nodded, his face still bearing the unstable expression of Han Jeong-hyeon, as if it were his true face. “The role of Lee Ji-ho is a good one. On the surface, he seems like a friend, but in reality, he’s the voice inside the main character’s head. Not many actors can pull off that kind of role.” Min-joon felt like Kim Jae-won’s words were directed at him, like he understood something about Min-joon’s own existence.
The reading ended at 5:00 PM. Min-joon stepped out of the studio, feeling the chill of the evening air. He looked at his phone and saw three messages – two from Jun-ho and one from Uri. “How was the reading?” Jun-ho asked. Min-joon felt a sense of uncertainty, unsure of how to respond. He looked up at the sky, which was slowly darkening, like a perfect gray. That color, Min-joon thought, was Lee Ji-ho’s color – the color of something that existed between presence and absence.
Min-joon called Jun-ho, who answered after three rings. “The reading went well,” Min-joon said, though he wasn’t sure what that meant. Jun-ho asked if PD Park Mi-ra had said anything, and Min-joon replied that she hadn’t. The line was silent for a moment, and Min-joon sensed a mix of emotions from Jun-ho – disappointment, concern, or perhaps something else.
Min-joon met Uri at a cafe, where she told him that Lee Su-jin, the CEO of The Star Entertainment, was involved in the production of the drama. Min-joon’s body stiffened at the mention of her name. Why was she involved in this project? Uri warned Min-joon to stay away from Lee Su-jin and to be cautious of any offers she might make. Min-joon felt a sense of fear, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was – fear of failure, or fear of success.
As they parted ways, Min-joon stood on the street, feeling the chill of the evening air. He thought about the script, about Lee Ji-ho, and about the role he was supposed to play. He realized that he was going to be a mirror, reflecting Han Jeong-hyeon’s psychological state. Min-joon felt a sense of confusion, unsure of what he was supposed to do or how he was supposed to feel. But as he stood there, he knew that he was not alone. He had friends who cared about him, and that thought gave him the strength to move forward.
Min-joon took a deep breath and began to walk, his feet carrying him through the quiet streets. He thought about the script, about the characters, and about the story. He thought about Lee Su-jin and the warning Uri had given him. As he walked, the darkness of the night seemed to press in around him, but he felt a sense of determination growing within him. He was ready to face whatever lay ahead, to play the role of Lee Ji-ho, and to uncover the truth about the drama and the people involved.