YDCF 09

Chapter – 09

A few days later, at actress Sung Hyesim’s home.

“Perfect. The time was short, but you already mastered it.”

“The hint you gave me last time really helped.”

“Even if you give hints, there are juniors who still don’t get it. Being able to swallow it whole is a talent too.”

I had just shown Sung Hyesim the ad-lib development assignment she gave me before.

“Saeyi, have you ever thought about joining a company?”

“A company?”

“One that brings you scripts and takes care of you.”

A company… I hadn’t officially signed anywhere yet, but my plan was to join Wave Actors, and for that I first needed to land a role.

When I hesitated, Sung Hyesim handed me a business card.

[Haedam ENT — CEO Song Wooseok]

“It’s our CEO’s card.”

She smiled and added,

“I’m not telling you to come. With your talent, companies will line up from your very first script reading to hand you their cards.”

“Then why give me this…?”

“Just saying I want to stand at the very front of that line?”

Her expression turned serious, as if choosing her words carefully.

“Mm… Saeyi, let me tell you this in advance. In this industry, you shouldn’t trust anyone.”

“Not even you, actress?”

“That’s right. Don’t accept my offers lightly either.”

To someone who hadn’t even filmed a debut work yet, she explained all the things I should be careful about—like she truly believed I’d walk a smooth, successful path.

“A company can protect you, but it can also attack you. You need to know that.”

I’d been worried she might push me to join her company right away, but instead, she even warned me not to trust Haedam ENT.

Feeling oddly reassured, I smiled. As I put the card into my wallet, I whispered,

“Still… I want to trust you.”

“Ah, seriously… that’s ridiculous.”

She looked at me like I was hopeless, then suddenly started gathering her things.

“You’ve got time today, right?”

“I cleared my schedule. But why…?”

She even picked up my bag for me and nodded toward the door—signaling we were leaving.

“I said I’d get you an audition for Your Blue Name. It’s today.”

…What?

Before I could even step back, she grabbed my hand.

And so, inside a moving car.

Without even knowing where we were headed, I kept rereading the script I’d already worn out from analyzing it over and over.

The director of KDS’s highly anticipated drama, Your Blue Name, Director Woo Byeonghwa, was anxious.

That so-called “box office cheat code,” Sung Hyesim, had made a condition for appearing. She wanted someone she recommended to be allowed to audition for the female lead role, Doyeon.

She wasn’t asking them to be cast outright—just an audition. That was easy enough to grant.

The problem was that while Sung Hyesim had been considering whether to join the project, the role of Doyeon had already been narrowed down to final candidates. The production team suggested instead that her recommendation audition for Doyeon’s student-age role.

Sung Hyesim accepted—for now. She said the age would fit better anyway, and that she’d leave the final choice to “that child.”

However… there was one problem.

“Is writer Choi here?”

“She came, but she clearly didn’t want to. She’s been burned too many times by Doyeon auditions.”

The problem was the picky writer standing right in front of them—Choi Gijeong, a star writer whose debut work had been a hit.

“If she keeps rejecting everyone, what are we supposed to do?”

“There’s no one in the current pool who feels like my Doyeon. Especially not among child actors. As for the one we’re seeing today… honestly, we should drop our expectations.”

“Why not just cast a moderately famous child actor? The role isn’t that big.”

“It’s useless if you can’t show Doyeon. The child role has to hook the audience from episode one.”

They had already auditioned so many top-tier child actors that counting them would take more than two hands.

Could the person Sung Hyesim recommended really satisfy writer Choi?

Director Woo didn’t think so. Even kids who’d been acting since kindergarten had failed—there was no way an unknown newcomer could pull it off.

What was the name of the kid auditioning today again…

Joo Saeyi. That was it.

Sorry. You must’ve had high hopes.

Today, the sight of writer Choi going through the script with a sharp expression felt especially irritating. Director Woo glanced sideways at her.

Jingle.

The small bell on the door rang softly. Sung Hyesim entered, and both the director and the writer stood up out of courtesy.

“Have you been waiting long? I was late because I had to change the kid’s clothes again.”

Sung Hyesim bowed lightly.

Changed clothes?

It was such a predictable route that Director Woo let out a small chuckle. Plenty of actors had already come dressed in school uniforms, since Doyeon was a student.

Then, another person walked in behind Sung Hyesim.

At the same time, both Director Woo’s and writer Choi’s gazes snapped toward her.

That’s the girl. Her face is decent.

Fair, delicate skin. Clear eyes. Makeup so light it looked barefaced. Overall, a pure and neat atmosphere.

She had a face that suited Doyeon perfectly. For the first time, Director Woo’s heart started to race with the thought that maybe—just maybe—this one would be different.

Standing in front of the director and writer, Saeyi took off her outerwear. Director Woo assumed she’d be wearing a school uniform underneath, like everyone else.

“Uh?”

But she wasn’t.

She was wearing a grimy printed short-sleeve T-shirt. The neckline was slightly stretched and loose, and her gym shorts were folded up twice.

While Saeyi introduced herself and greeted them, Director Woo stole a glance at writer Choi. She was staring at Saeyi without moving an inch.

“This is a student role. Why didn’t you come in a school uniform?”

“School uniforms only appear briefly at the beginning. After she moves to the countryside, the school allows casual clothes the whole time.”

Even under writer Choi’s questioning, Saeyi didn’t shrink back and continued,

“Rather than just wearing a uniform because she’s a student, I wanted to come dressed in something that fits the script!”

“You know that if you can’t show it through acting, none of that matters, right?”

Watching Saeyi remain unfazed by the aggressive tone, Director Woo rubbed his chin.

“No need for free acting. Did you memorize the script? I’m going to assign a scene.”

“Yes! You can throw it at me right away!”

Her voice was strong. Even her tightly clenched fists were full of determination.

“The scene with the mother is too obvious. Let’s see scene 35—Yeon Doyeon’s first meeting with Yoo Hajin.”

The school-age years of Your Blue Name’s female lead Doyeon and male lead Hajin.

After her older brother’s death, Doyeon moves to her rural grandmother’s house with her mother, who has lost her sanity. There, she meets the country boy, Hajin.

If there’s ever a case of “a dragon rising from a stream,” it’s Hajin—a genius born in the countryside.

Seeing the rural adults place their expectations on Hajin, Doyeon is reminded of her mother, who drove her brother to his death. Instinctively, she avoids Hajin.

But Hajin is deeply interested in Doyeon—enough that he secretly blushes once they become neighbors and classmates.

Their first meeting happens in front of Doyeon’s house, on a day when rain pours down relentlessly.

At that moment, Saeyi’s expression and posture changed.

As if reacting to raindrops falling into her eyes, her eyelids trembled intermittently even as she delivered her lines.

“Hey. You… why do you keep hanging around?”

Her shoulders sagged from long-held exhaustion. Her pale face stood out sharply against the fresh green countryside.

“What, did you come to see for yourself because of the rumor that my mom’s gone crazy?”

The girl in front of them was no longer the passionate Joo Saeyi from moments ago.

“Ah, I’m sick of looking at you, so just go away! Why won’t you leave us alone? Why…! What are we, monkeys in a zoo? Because there was a death, because she lost her mind, because the mother who killed her son brought bad luck—people keep coming and whispering, over and over…!”

Her voice shook endlessly. Like washing away stains in the pouring rain, the girl poured out all the resentment piled up inside her toward Hajin.

Ironically, that resentment-filled 모습 would become Hajin’s intense first love.

“You think I came to this crappy town because I wanted to?!”

A child who had been forced to leave everything behind.

“I hate it here too… It’s not just you who hates us.”

Her fragile lips trembled, then closed. Saeyi finished her performance.

Watching it all, Director Woo was certain. There was no way a more perfect Yeon Doyeon existed in this world.

“That’s all.”

Writer Choi closed the script. It meant she had made her decision.

“I’ve decided. Joo Saeyi, this might catch you off guard, but…”

“…Please, go ahead.”

“If it’s not you as Doyeon’s younger self, I’d rather scrap the entire project.”

Fortunately, Director Woo wasn’t the only one who recognized Joo Saeyi’s Doyeon.

“Will you join us?”

Writer Choi held out her hand to Saeyi.

It was the moment she landed her very first role.