Chapter : 33
Professor So Ji-young from the Korea National University of Arts, who was also one of the judges, was the first to pick up the microphone. Her sparkling eyes showed that she was feeling the same emotions as Cha Mi-sook.
“Number 27, Actor Yoon Hae-in, right? Didn’t you take a five-year break? Have you been practicing acting alone all this time?”
Hearing So Ji-young’s excited voice made Hae-in finally feel like she’d returned to reality.
I finally took a step forward.
A thrill rose from her toes and swept through her entire body.
Seeing the faint smile on Hyuk’s lips, sitting at the judges’ table, made her feel like she’d finally shaken off a bit of the pressure that had weighed on her for the past five years.
“Haha, you flatter me.”
“What’s going on here? Are we just tired from all the judging, and that’s why your acting feels so good to us?”
They must have been really satisfied—Cha Mi-sook even dropped the “Number 27” and called her “Hae-in.” At that, Hae-in gave a bashful smile.
The microphone was then passed to Lee Byung-in, the notoriously strict judge. There was a new glimmer in his sharp eyes.
“I’ll say something too. Yoon Hae-in, your acting was excellent. What surprised me most was that you didn’t seem to struggle at all portraying such a complex character like Hong Seol. I mean that. Before you came up here, I watched the video from before—and this Hong Seol is completely different.
Honestly, since this scene was a free monologue, I expected it to be somewhat different—but this was beyond my expectations.
I criticized the previous actors about their breathing technique, remember?”
Lee Byung-in’s gaze swept from Actor #1 to Actor #26. The actors lowered their heads in embarrassment.
“That breathing technique—learn it from Yoon Hae-in. That should do the trick.”
“Excuse me, Judge. I’d like to raise an objection to that.”
“What?”
The sudden voice from the actors’ seats made Lee Byung-in visibly startled. Interrupting a judge mid-comment was already unusual—but raising an objection right afterward?
Even Hae-in turned around in surprise. The actor with the tag “#30” was smiling innocently, as if she truly had something to say.
#30… that’s Do Do-kyung.
Do-kyung—someone who hadn’t exactly gotten along with her since their university days at Kyungseong Arts University.
First Han So-yi, and now Do Do-kyung… Maybe this audition’s going to be rougher than I thought.
Hae-in glanced briefly at Do-kyung before turning her gaze back toward the judges. Lee Byung-in, clearly displeased, looked at Do-kyung.
“Interrupting like this isn’t ideal… but go ahead. Let’s hear it.”
A staff member quickly handed Do-kyung a microphone. She bowed politely first—after all, as a veteran in the entertainment industry, she knew better than to get on a judge’s bad side.
Her unexpected behavior prompted Producer Kang to signal the camera operator. Soon, not only the main camera but the sub-camera was also filming her.
Confirming the cameras were on her, Do-kyung began speaking, her face full of confidence. She was sure she could squeeze in one more bit of screen time.
“Yoon Hae-in—”
She stopped mid-sentence, realizing that everyone here was being addressed by number.
“Go ahead and speak comfortably,”
said Lee Byung-in, now composed again, folding his arms as he looked at her.
His expression said, If you’ve got something so important to say that you had to cut in, I’ll listen.
But even under that look, Do-kyung didn’t flinch. Calmly, she continued.
“Yes, my apologies. I momentarily forgot the number. Actor #27 has already performed the play ‘Allure’ (현혹) before. Naturally, that would put her at an advantage compared to the others who went before her.”
“Oh, for crying out loud… She couldn’t stop going after Hae-in even back in school, and now she’s doing it again,”
grumbled Ga-young, clearly annoyed.
“You two went to the same university?”
asked Do-jun, raising an eyebrow. He hadn’t realized that Do Do-kyung was also a Kyungseong Arts graduate.
Ga-young nodded, looking irritated.
“Yeah. The four of us—me, Hyuk, Hae-in, and Do-kyung—we’re all alumni. I transferred majors halfway, though.”
“So Do-kyung and Hae-in didn’t get along?”
Do-jun usually didn’t care about other people’s business, but when it came to Yoon Hae-in, he couldn’t hide his curiosity. Ga-young gave him a complicated look.
“It’s weird. Do-kyung hated Hae-in, but at the same time… she was obsessed with her, in a way.”
A memory from when she was twenty-one resurfaced in Ga-young’s mind.
It was during their sophomore year at the prestigious Kyungseong Arts University. The school had announced an open contest to pick the face of their next campus model. Naturally, every good-looking student from the Department of Theater and Film had jumped at the chance.
“Hey, Han Ga-young. Are you Yoon Hae-in’s lackey or what?”
“Why are you picking a fight again?”
“I heard you recommended Yoon Hae-in for the university ad model spot.”
“It was open to anyone. I just thought her look matched the school’s image the best. What’s the problem?”
“I can’t tell if you’re humble, untalented, or just smart enough to latch onto someone better.”
Looking back now, it was obvious—Do-kyung had always been jealous of Hae-in. Yet even ten years later, there were still parts of her that Ga-young couldn’t understand.
“Do-kyung envied everything about Hae-in. Her little brother, Hae-jin—he passed away, you know? He had a disability. And it was Do-kyung who spread that rumor around campus first.”
Now, it might not seem like much. Having a disabled family member wasn’t something to be ashamed of. But back then, at twenty years old, it was different. Just being different could make people treat you differently.
“You said she was obsessed—what do you mean?”
“Oh, right. Once, one of our male classmates got drunk and tried to force a kiss on Hae-in… and Do-kyung slapped him. Hard. Tell me that’s not strange.”
Do-jun couldn’t take his eyes off Hae-in, who was sitting there, unable to look up at the judges.
It was the kind of messy dynamic that often existed between young women—jealousy mixed with admiration. But what had the twenty-year-old Yoon Hae-in been like?
Was she just as beautiful as she was now, or did she still have that burning passion for her dreams?
A faint smile softened Do-jun’s eyes as he looked at her.
“So, Actor #30—what exactly are you objecting to? Which part, specifically?”
It was Lee Hyuk who cut in this time, glaring at Do-kyung, clearly annoyed.
There he goes again—snapping the moment someone mentions Yoon Hae-in.
Do-kyung smirked faintly and met his gaze.
“I’m sure you know this too, Actor Lee. Out of the seventy contestants here, the only one who’s performed this role before is Actor #27. In an audition where everyone’s putting their all on the line, isn’t that kind of advantage basically a special favor?”
A favor, huh?
Hae-in gave a wry smile. Trust Do-kyung to twist things that way. It had been over ten years since university—long enough to call it an old relationship. And yet, she still couldn’t figure her out.
“That crazy girl…! Does she have any idea how much Hae-in suffered because of Allure?”
Ga-young’s face looked ready to charge up to the stage, but Ji-ah quickly grabbed her arm to stop her.
This time, it was Cha Mi-sook who responded to Do-kyung’s words. She seemed to find the comment ridiculous, a small smile curling her lips—not one of amusement, but of mockery.
