Chapter 9
I had never found summer so beautiful before.
In my entire life, aside from the meaningless last five years, this was the only time I had ever lived without a schedule.
As the end of October—the college entrance season—drew near, Gam Ihyeon was hospitalized once again.
And I knew that before spring even arrived next year, Gam Ihyeon would be gone from this world.
Toward the end of October, I headed to the Performing Arts High School for the practical entrance exam.
It was my first entrance exam since I was born, so I was nervous.
The school was overflowing with cars belonging to parents dropping off their children.
Applicants, their families, and their vehicles packed the campus until it felt more like a crowded marketplace than a school.
Yet as I walked through it, my heart swelled.
…This school is nice.
Since they didn’t consider academic grades, I was certain they wouldn’t reject me.
Just as I was thinking that, the demon spoke again.
[Tracking “The Fall of Leader Actors.”]
[“The Fall of Leader Actors”—the mastermind is in the same location.]
[Warning.]
[Warning.]
[Even demons find that kind of human scary… T_T]
It almost sent a chill down my spine.
But then it ended with “Even demons find that kind of human scary… T_T,” so I couldn’t take it seriously.
The demon hiding behind the system window had been letting its real personality slip out more and more lately.
But why was it trying so hard to act cute?
Standing in the middle of the school courtyard, I looked around at the bustling crowd.
The mastermind was here.
Which meant someone connected to Mobydick Entertainment had to be—
“Hello. We’re from Mobydick Entertainment. Are you signed with an agency?”
I looked at the business card that had somehow ended up in my hand and then at the employee who had given it to me.
Staff members from Mobydick Entertainment were already wandering around the school, scouting students.
Among them would be employees and countless future actors who would eventually sign with Mobydick Entertainment.
Finding the mastermind among them didn’t seem easy.
Still, there were a few familiar faces.
Some were actors I’d worked with before.
Try not to pick fights with directors, writers, or actors.
Repeating that to myself, I continued walking.
Soon enough, I found the people even the demon feared.
The owner family of Mobydick Entertainment.
Mobydick Entertainment was the media and cultural subsidiary of Segang Heavy Industries.
Now, however, that subsidiary had grown even larger than the parent company itself.
Originally acquired as a means of strengthening soft power, Mobydick Entertainment had always been—and still was—an agency and production company willing to use any means necessary.
Apparently, one of the direct descendants of the Mobydick Entertainment family was taking the entrance exam here today.
I’d never met the president’s immediate family, nor did I know what they looked like.
Apparently, they hadn’t debuted as actors.
If they had, there was no way I wouldn’t have heard about it.
I did know the president’s nephew, though.
The youngest son of Segang Heavy Industries’ chairman.
I’d acted with him before.
That youngest son, Han Dohyeon, was currently a third-year student at the Performing Arts High School and had come to cheer on the applicants.
The mastermind had to belong to that family.
Which meant…
Was Han Dohyeon the person even the demon feared?
Come to think of it, I once locked that guy in a room for ten hours and forced him through script readings because he couldn’t act…
If Han Dohyeon really was the mastermind behind Leader Actors’ downfall, then I’d brought disaster upon myself.
For a brief moment, guilt threatened to surface.
Then I got over it immediately.
I’d traded twenty-three years of my lifespan to that fake-cute demon for another chance.
If Han Dohyeon was the mastermind, then everything became easy.
This time, I just wouldn’t lock him up for ten hours.
Maybe I’d even compliment his acting.
It’d be a lie, but still.
Just as I thought that, the demon suddenly went berserk.
[Hah. Fake-cute?]
[You’ve got terrible taste.]
[I’m only not cute because you’re reading text.]
[For the record, people tell me I’m adorable all the time.]
[You’ll see soon enough.]
[Besides, your lifespan isn’t that long anymore, is it?]
Says the one who stole my lifespan.
Well, it had given me another chance too.
Ignoring the chattering demon that followed me around, I sat down.
It had been a long time since my last audition.
I almost got nervous.
Then I saw children even more nervous than I was, and I relaxed.
I went over my script one last time.
The sunlight pouring through the windows was blinding.
Looking around, I noticed an enormous student sitting with his back to the sunlight.
I sat in front of him, using him as shade.
He glanced at me after realizing I was literally using him to block the sun.
The name tag on his chest read:
Woo Woongbae.
Then he spoke.
“So you’re using a person as shade.”
…What was with that way of talking?
Wait.
Was he even talking to me?
It sounded more like he was narrating his own thoughts.
“Very well. If this insignificant body of mine can be of some use…”
I immediately became alert.
The way he talked was strange.
Could this be him?
The guy even the demon was wary of?
I asked him,
“…Did you make a contract with a demon too?”
Woo Woongbae flinched.
Then he nodded as if he’d suddenly understood.
“Oh. That’s your character setting.”
“Character setting?”
“I didn’t. But if that’s your setting, I’ll acknowledge it.”
Then he held out his hand.
“My name is Woo Woongbae.”
He really emphasized the “Woo.”
I simply tilted my head toward my own name tag.
Then I went back to reviewing my script.
Whenever the sunlight shifted, I adjusted my position to stay inside Woo Woongbae’s shadow.
Eventually my number was called.
The moment I walked inside, I could tell no one was paying much attention to my acting.
I’d been to enough auditions to know.
It wasn’t that they weren’t interested in me.
They’d already decided to pass me the moment they saw my face.
“I’ll begin.”
After performing my prepared monologue and free acting, I quietly went through the camera test.
Standing in front of a camera again after so long felt wonderful.
Once I finished everything, I was about to leave.
Then I remembered what Do Jaeyeon had told me.
“Bow before you leave.”
So I gave a respectful bow.
When I stepped outside, Woo Woongbae was also finishing his practical exam.
Apparently he had applied for the Film Production Department.
Woo Woongbae spoke.
“So, you’re the one who made a contract with a demon.”
He was strange.
But he didn’t seem like the kind of trash person that would make even the demon click its tongue.
I asked,
“Did you pass?”
“I probably did.”
He didn’t bother asking if I’d passed.
Instead, he looked me up and down before nodding.
At least he had a good eye.
A basic qualification for someone studying filmmaking.
Then silence settled between us.
…Is this… maybe what having a friend is like?
Woo Woongbae wore the exact same expression.
Having never had anything even remotely resembling a friend in my life, I had no idea whether this was the beginning of the kind of friendship I’d only ever seen in dramas.
More importantly…
Even if we became friends…
What were you supposed to do after that?
As we both stood there in silence, Woo Woongbae finally asked,
“Do you like movies?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go watch one.”
His way of speaking was strange.
But there was no reason to refuse someone asking me to watch a movie.
So I followed Woo Woongbae to the theater.
For the Class of 2026, the Performing Arts High School’s Acting Department planned to admit seventy-eight students across two classes.
Nearly seven hundred applicants had shown up.
Selecting the top students wasn’t difficult.
The unexpected problem came afterward.
“Seriously… Please come to our school. Both of them.”
They were only middle school students.
Acting teachers rarely expected truly exceptional performances during entrance exams.
Of course, there were occasionally children whose acting far surpassed their age.
But they were extremely rare.
Finding someone with both outstanding acting and exceptional looks was even rarer.
At that age, no one could guarantee how they’d change after becoming adults.
Yet this year…
There were two applicants who completely dominated both categories.
Choosing between them seemed almost impossible.
No. 119 — Han Jeonghyeon
No. 298 — Lee Huiyun
If the other seven hundred applicants were rough gemstones…
These two were jewels already polished by the greatest craftsmen.
The others still held unknown potential.
These two had already taken their first steps toward becoming great actors.
Through the camera lens, their appearances couldn’t have been more different.
Number 119 possessed a sharp, dangerously captivating aura.
Number 298 radiated beautiful, pure youthful charm.
It would’ve been easier if they were similar.
Instead, everything about them was completely different.
Their acting styles.
Their atmosphere.
Everything.
Number 119 acted as though he had dragged the character into reality.
Number 298 melted naturally into the world of the script, flowing as effortlessly as water.
Complete opposites.
Fire and water.
Light and darkness.
“Wouldn’t these be the highest combined scores in school history, considering both acting and looks?”
“And the two highest scores happened to come in the same year…”
“No matter how many times we evaluate them, it’s a tie.”
“If we absolutely had to choose one as valedictorian…”
“…Then it’d have to be the less fortunate one.”
There was no helping it.
Compared to Han Jeonghyeon, the son of Mobydick Entertainment’s president—a diamond-spoon heir whose biggest hardship was being dropped off by a chauffeur instead of his busy parents—
Lee Huiyun, who had neither parents nor anyone to rely on, was the more appropriate choice for first place in every respect.
For days after the entrance exam, Woo Woongbae and I kept going to the movies.
We hardly spoke.
We simply watched film after film.
As a result, I barely learned anything about him.
Woo Woongbae came from a fairly well-off family.
His family owned a three-story building, and he occupied the entire third floor by himself.
We would lie around or sit there watching movies.
Then, in the middle of one, Woo Woongbae suddenly spoke.
“I have a proposal regarding our friendship.”
“What is it?”
“I have no curiosity about you.”
“But my mother and father are curious.”
“I’m an orphan.”
“I suspected as much.”
“Why?”
“…”
For the first time, Woo Woongbae—the person who always seemed to have an answer—fell silent.
His eyes briefly drifted toward his phone.
Then I understood.
The three people from Leader Actors constantly asked where I was.
Park Seonyeong, who practically lived at the hospital with Gam Ihyeon, also checked in on me from time to time.
But aside from them…
No one ever contacted me.
Not even my family.
To Woo Woongbae, the fact that a sixteen-year-old boy never received calls from his family, no matter how late it got, had been all the proof he needed.
If his parents wanted to know about me because I was their son’s first real friend…
Then I supposed I should answer.
“I don’t drink or smoke.”
“That is good news.”
“I’m staying at actor Gam Ihyeon’s house.”
“I’m living there.”
“I used to live with my uncle, but he beat me too much, so I left.”
“Although I’ve only just met him, may I call your uncle a piece of trash?”
“Call him whatever you want.”
After saying that, I reached to start the movie again.
Woo Woongbae lightly patted my back.
By the time I became an adult, I’d mostly recovered.
But at sixteen…
I couldn’t stand being touched.
I was always afraid it would turn into violence.
So I instinctively slapped his hand away.
Even I thought I overreacted.
“What the hell, bastard?”
The curse slipped out before I realized it.
Woo Woongbae gave me a light shove.
I shoved him back.
But he was far too huge for it to matter.
So I stopped.
Still tense, I snapped,
“Don’t touch me.”
The atmosphere immediately became awkward.
I had no idea what people were supposed to do after something like this.
First I’d panic.
Then I’d become hostile.
And after that…
Every relationship I’d ever had simply ended.
Looking back now…
Maybe the lingering effects of childhood abuse had something to do with why I was always alone.
Yeah.
Who was I kidding?
Friends?
I should just go back to being Woo Heonjeong.
That was exactly what I was thinking when Woo Woongbae’s phone rang.
“Yes.”
“Oh… yes.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He ended the call.
Almost immediately afterward, my own phone rang from the exact same number.
It was the Performing Arts High School.
“Hello, is this Lee Huiyun?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been selected as the valedictorian of the Acting Department.”
“Oh… okay.”
Funny.
The order of our responses had been exactly the same.
Well…
It was probably because we’d both just received the same kind of news.
