Chapter 20: “Debut Film Release”:
The moment, my body shivered.
“Whoa!”
“Why? What is it? Another ghost?”
Gamdong looked at me with a worried expression.
“Not a ghost.”
“Then?”
“It just feels like someone’s watching me with ugly intentions. Like someone’s targeting me.”
I scanned my surroundings as I spoke. It was just a gut feeling. That sticky, tense feeling I used to get when someone was eyeing my bread or emergency stash while I was homeless—it was the same now.
“Targeting, huh? Uh… maybe O Joo-hwan?”
Gamdong asked cautiously, probably recalling the trouble with Joo-hwan, but I shook my head firmly.
“No. That hierarchy’s already settled.”
“Hi-hierarchy settled?”
“Yeah, we have that kind of thing.”
Yep, completely settled. Probably quiet for a while. Judging by how he looked beaten down just from a little glare, he seemed tame.
But… what’s with those distrustful eyes?
“Everything’s fine, but let’s not cause trouble. The time for just laughing it off is over.”
“Ehhey! Who do you take me for!”
“And tomorrow is the day the debut film comes out.”
I tilted my head at that.
“Huh? Debut film?”
“You know, the set where we first met.”
“That bastard is in it? Ugh. If I’d known the CCTV was fake back then, I’d have messed him up.”
Rage surged through me. Thinking about not even getting compensation after being beaten back then still blinds my anger.
“Who smeared your pill with spit?”
“He started the fight first!”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
“Wait… I wasn’t fired?”
“That scene is actually important.”
“Important? To a nobody like me?”
“Well, the director’s a bit… peculiar.”
If the premiere was tomorrow… then the word “premiere” suddenly came to mind.
“So there was a premiere? But why wasn’t I invited!”
“Would there be? Why would they invite you when I’m there too? Besides, they only invite the lead and supporting roles. Nobody invites bit-part actors…”
“Hmph. It’s doomed.”
Gamdong flinched.
“…You saw the premiere, huh?”
“Well, of course I did.”
“Not good?”
“Hmm… I guess people might have mixed feelings.”
Somehow, I felt good. That bratty lead seemed doomed.
“They filmed a homeless person on the street, so of course it’s going to fail.”
“That homeless person is you!”
“I already got paid. Anyway, since there’s no guarantee for box office success, who cares?”
Gamdong shouted in frustration.
“Are you even an actor? Of course it’s good if the film does well! And… if it does well, there’s a bonus!”
“Me?”
“No, me.”
“Ah…”
I stopped talking. Gamdong’s eyes looked sad when mentioning a bonus. There was something in his gaze, like staring at a mirage. Not ideal. I knew better than to push it—if I wanted to avoid scolding at home.
“Anyway, is this really a debut-level film? We have to do well here. I’ll work hard.”
“Yes.”
Yeah, Gamdong… let’s forget about it.
Though it was a movie we had agreed to bury in our memories, I cautiously headed to the theater.
Why?
Curiosity. Honestly, I said otherwise, but this was my first acting role. If I weren’t curious, that’d be strange.
Even a brief walking scene would have drawn me in, but this time my scene had actual dialogue. And I even spoke lines well enough that it carried over into drama. Besides, it wasn’t a film about a life of homelessness I had lived with Gamdong?
“Whoa…”
I appeared on screen.
My breath stopped.
You know how actors sometimes get nervous watching their own performance? Now I understood that. Even a bit-part actor feels this tension.
“Whoa…”
Someone let out an exclamation. That was my scene.
“Really looks like a homeless person.”
“…”
That counts as a compliment, right? The formerly pitiful homeless me had transformed.
“Huh? That’s the same person? Geez, did they film this sloppily?”
“Well, maybe they used a different actor for dramatic effect.”
A couple in the front row whispered.
“Hmm, no…”
…Didn’t they hear me? I wanted to correct them but got no reaction. I turned my attention back to the screen. My appearance was projected: no longer homeless, actually decent-looking. Even I found it unfamiliar. Fascinating.
“Geez, what is this.”
My heart felt oddly tight. The emotions I hadn’t expected while filming then now rushed in. The reflection on screen was undeniably me, yet unfamiliar. And yet, my heart raced. A transformation bestowed upon a life that had only survived, now visible and tangible.
And that feeling was completed when the movie ended.
“It’s there.”
My name appeared in the ending credits.
Homeless 1, Shin – Woo Su-han
It was clear. I glanced around. Some people came with others—partners, friends, even family.
“Ah… what a pity.”
Now, the family I recalled was more of a memory than reality—sad eyes watching from a rolling car rather than a warm time together. But at this moment, I felt a strange longing to have shared it with that family. Would I have been happy?
“Heh heh heh.”
I just laughed. I knew it was an unattainable hope. Rising from the almost empty theater, I murmured:
“Damn. The movie’s trash.”
Gamdong’s “mixed feelings” remark was a kind way of putting it. The movie wasn’t fun. I checked online for a day or two after returning home and realized viewers’ reactions matched my own. My first work flopped, and I became a meme.
“Hmm?”
Park Min-gu watched a movie with his girlfriend after a long time.
The film had a ridiculous title: “Forced Dramatic Transformation Romance!” Apparently, it was based on a web novel. Early on, it showed homeless people. Normally, “homeless” isn’t commonly said these days, but the man in this scene really looked like one.
“Really looks like a homeless person.”
His girlfriend muttered as if mesmerized.
“Right?”
She was right. He looked like a real homeless person—not just the makeup, but his every motion. Probably because actual beggars are rarely seen these days.
Then, a man appeared clean and neat. The previous homeless image and the new one alternated onscreen. Min-gu chuckled incredulously. His girlfriend, thinking the same, whispered her thoughts aloud.
“Huh? That’s the same person? Geez, the filming was sloppy, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe they used a different actor for dramatic effect.”
Min-gu responded nonchalantly.
“See? That homeless guy is him. He looks better than the lead.”
“Well, maybe a little better…”
He did look decent. Not idol-level, but good-looking enough to catch a male’s eye. Then a voice muttered lowly from behind.
“Hmm, no…”
Min-gu ignored it and stayed focused, though that focus broke in thirty minutes. The lead displayed Messi-level acting. If acting were a football award, the lead Kwon Soo-hyun would have won the Ballon d’Or. In drama, his acting was tolerable; here, it was painful.
They gave up judgment, continued watching, and goofed off together. After the movie ended, Min-gu suddenly grabbed his girlfriend with a thought.
“Is the actor who played the homeless guy and Shin the same person?”
“A bet? I’m different!”
“Hey!”
His girlfriend struck first. Min-gu decided to pick the opposite choice. The credits started rolling.
“Huh?”
“Whoa! Really?”
Homeless 1, Shin – Woo Su-han
The character name listed both roles as one actor. They stood up in surprise. From behind, someone muttered again.
“Damn. The movie’s trash.”
Min-gu and his girlfriend nodded in unison. As they slowly walked down the aisle, they noticed the man who had muttered from behind passing by them.
“Huh?”
“Wait? Honey! Is that…?”
“The homeless role?”
They watched the actor pass by with wide eyes.
“Clearly learned something. Handsome!”
“Yeah…”
Min-gu returned home from a doomed movie date, opened his blog, and wrote:
“Hmm…”
Then he critiqued sharply. The subtitle: “There’s a Messi-level actor in Korea.” As he finished, he remembered the actor who passed by.
“Okay!”
He finished the post with a grin.
The only thing memorable from the movie was the actor playing both the homeless and Shin roles. The scene-stealer of the film.
P.S. – He looks even better in person.
Responses started coming. Comments ranged from “I haven’t seen it” to “Thanks for the heads-up.” But a debate began:
Homeless and Shin aren’t the same person. Right?
Not sure, but why cast someone else for the roles?
True.
Can we say it’s the same person? Doesn’t seem like silicone was used.
Min-gu smiled and replied:
┖Yes, Woo Su-han is the actor for both roles. I even saw the ending credits for a bet with my girlfriend.
“Is this actor Woo?”
“Oh! Lead actor!”
“Stop that… looks like you’re bowing.”
“Ah!”
“People might call you bossy lead if they see this.”
“Ugh! I won’t! Just don’t kick me out!”
“Hahaha!”
Ah, I must break the habit of bowing to important people. Lacking social skills shows here. Then I saw a clip of lead Kim Dae-sung.
“Huh?”
My acting had become a meme.
“Right?”
“Yes!”
“If I hadn’t seen the homeless makeup here, I wouldn’t have believed it either.”
“Ah, hahaha!”
I laughed at my transformation.
“Amazing. The movie seems doomed though.”
“Movie failed, meme survived. Congrats. Your clip circulates more than the lead’s scenes.”
“Hehe.”
Serves them right. Kwon Soo-hyun, who didn’t pay me back, failed. I succeeded. Justice!
“So this was your debut?”
“Yes!”
“I see.”
Wait… that gaze, as if coveting me…
