Chapter 1: Opportunity
‘It seems they got a refund after all.’
Looking at the empty seats, all sorts of thoughts came to my mind. Only one ticket was sold today, but even that audience member didn’t show up.
‘I understand it in my head, but…’
In theater, actors and audience members make eye contact from just a few feet apart. Sometimes, there are even interactive plays where they converse directly.
That’s why, unlike movies and other cultural activities, theater can feel quite daunting for an audience member to attend alone.
Although it’s a familiar occurrence, there was no way to get rid of the bitter aftertaste lingering in my mouth.
If even one person had watched my last performance, it would have been a decent ending.
– Kang Wooju, today is your last day.
The face of the theater director, who informed me with an indifferent expression just before I went on stage, came to mind. He didn’t even look at me.
– Director, please look at my face at least…
– It’s exactly that face I’m sick of. Hey, you’re almost thirty. Shouldn’t you find a way to make a living, considering your future?
That word hit my chest with unusual weight.
For an actor who makes a living off their face, albeit not as much as an athlete, ‘aging’ is never a light matter.
Every year, younger, fresher juniors come up from below. If you miss the right time, you’re quickly washed up.
‘…I never even had a decent opportunity.’
In this world, it’s tough to even get on stage without proper connections or money.
For me, who only had ‘debt’ to my name, that was out of the question.
Even the academic credentials I believed I could earn through effort turned out to be a rigged game, a realization that came too late.
– Is that the guy? ‘That’ senior?
– Yeah. He got on the bad side of Professor Park Jae-jin. I heard he can’t even attend acting classes. The moment he registers, he’s set for a D grade.
– Then why bother paying expensive tuition and attending college?
– To pick up girls, what else. He’s quite handsome, so many fall for him. I heard last year even our student council president…
Their voices, purposely loud to be overheard, still rang clear in my ears, even after a long time since I took a leave of absence from school.
Despite enduring such harsh scrutiny, there was only one reason I couldn’t leave school.
“…I just want to act.”
The thought that unintentionally slipped out of my mouth echoed around the empty theater.
Startled at first, I relaxed when I reassured myself that I was alone.
– Where are you going? The show starts in 10 minutes.
– There’s no audience today.
– Only one ticket was sold.
– Of course, we have to refund it.
– Hey! What kind of nonsense is that!? If we offer discounts a walk-up discount, a few more might come. At the very least, go out in front of the ticket booth…
– Look, senior. Let’s take a break when we can, okay? Why sweat it out there when we don’t even make enough to cover labor costs? My face is already burning from the lights.
Hearing about the audience count, my juniors grumbled and then left to drink, abandoning the performance.
After all, in a situation where there is no audience, it seems there is no sense of duty to participate even in the retirement ceremony of an old senior who is firmly disliked by the the director.
‘It’s probably for the best.’
Having decided to leisurely enjoy my last performance, I began to reminisce on stage, recalling the props I had made, staying up through the nights. Faces I had forgotten surfaced like mirages.
‘So this is how it ends for me too.’
Seniors, classmates, and even juniors I did theater with since college, most of them had long left this field.
Up to now, the people who have remained here are just two kinds. One is the toxic bastards like me, and the other, the ‘stars’ monopolizing every spotlight.
‘Damn, the lights are so fucking blinding.’
The stage lights, still unfamiliar despite years together, felt unusually bright today. I reached out to them, but they were out of reach.
They felt too far, even in these last moments.
‘So it’s goodbye to you too.’
Sighing deeply, I swallowed the emotions that threatened to burst forth. Whether there was an audience or not, it doesn’t change the fact that this is my last time on stage.
I had to save and pour every last bit of my emotions into this performance on this stage.
Though no one was there to witness my fervor, at least one person in this world – ‘myself’ – couldn’t be fooled.
So, I cleared my throat again. The role I had practiced hundreds of times in secret, until the script was worn out.
‘Originally, I’m supposed to play the role of multitasking secretary Kim, but…’
With no one watching, there was no need to stick to a single role. I always wanted to play the protagonist at least once.
Thus, I now stand on stage as ‘Park Do-hyun,’ the eldest grandson of South Korea’s wealthiest family.
“Secretary Kim, what’s the schedule for this morning?”
Of course, no answer came. There’s no one here to answer my questions. That’s how it should be, naturally.
– At 2 PM, you have a meeting with the chairman.
Practicing in front of a mirror, again and again. Years of being a supporting actor, witnessing hundreds of performances.
Having done so much image training, it seemed like I could even see illusions now.
“What about the gift for the chairman?”
“Is there a problem?”
– Sorry! I couldn’t prepare the wine you mentioned before. Unexpectedly, a guest from the Middle East, not on the list, showed up…
Secretary Kim bowed deeply. Despite his exceptional demeanor, ‘Park Do-hyun’ never looked back.
He is the eldest grandson of a family that’s never relinquished the top spot in Korea since the government was established.
Though formal social classes are gone, one’s entire life still varies based on lineage. Therefore,
“You know how important this meeting is, right? I assume you’re at least astute enough to understand that.”
– Yes, of course! I couldn’t get the 1945 Romanee-Conti you mentioned, but there’s a 1947 Château that’s just as good…
Secretary Kim swallowed nervously at being called again, but Park Do-hyun, still not looking at him, spoke indifferently.
“So, it’s a ‘second-best’ wine, a last resort purchased because you were pushed around by some oil tycoons. Is that what you’re saying?”
– Well, if you only consider the price…
“Is there a more reliable indicator than price?”
Finally, Park Do-hyun turned around. Meeting his gaze, Secretary Kim flinched and shivered.
In contrast, Park Do-hyun’s speech, gestures, and even his gaze exuded unwavering pride.
His manner might seem arrogant, but the dignity emanating from him made him stand out more.
‘No, this isn’t arrogance.’
It’s overwhelming confidence.
From the moment he was granted the surname Park, the immense rights that came with it made all this possible.
‘This role really doesn’t suit the real me.’
Buying luxury items worth millions of won without a second thought, savoring food more expensive than my monthly salary, all these actions were utterly alien to my true self. However,
Park Do-hyun picked out one of the displayed watches and put it on his wrist. A fake so sophisticated that even an expert might be fooled.
“I am Park Do-hyun.” Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novelꜰire.net
At least in this moment, while I wear the mask of Park Do-hyun on stage,
I am neither an unknown actor hopping between single-room rentals, nor an old senior actor filling the stage alone.
“Second best is meaningless to me.”
Park Do-hyun placed the wine bottle he had prepared on the table, shattering it. The shards, glinting brilliantly under the lights, seemed to embed themselves in my retina, refusing to disappear.
“…When will this be cleaned up?”
After all performances ended.
I sighed deeply, emerging from my immersion. The reality I faced after discarding the mask of Park Do-hyun felt particularly cold.
Already, pieces of sugar stuck firmly to the floor made me sigh involuntarily.
I wanted to throw everything away, but couldn’t bear to do so, feeling pity for the old, ailing stage that had been my companion.
“Let’s clean it. Clean.”
I forced the words out, trying to comfort myself as I prepared to clean up the my last stage as an actor. Just then,
Sharp applause echoed from somewhere. Startled, I quickly turned my head towards the source of the sound in the audience seats.
Center of the front row in the audience seats.
A woman sat there, as if it were the most natural thing, a spot most people would feel uncomfortable even sitting in.
Her presence was so overwhelming that it seemed to fill the empty auditorium.
‘…Would it feel if Park Do-hyun were a woman?’
It was as if she embodied the character of Park Do-hyun, whom I had just portrayed – someone unfamiliar with failure and frustration, wrapped in narcissism and self-esteem.
Having done numerous part-time jobs and encountered various types of people, I was confident in my ability to read people.
‘She exudes elegance from every pore.’
Just by her looks, she seemed about my age, but we were well past the era where age directly correlated with rank.
Regardless of gender, nationality, or race. In an era where anyone could seize opportunities with the right skills and luck.
Especially with her beauty, there must be men willing to bend over backwards for her.
‘Could she be a casting manager!?’
The atmosphere felt strangely familiar. In that moment, I wondered if she might be a professional in this industry.
Reaching that thought, I recalled the rumors of a legendary casting manager who secretly scouted talent around college campuses.
No matter how many times I think about it, it’s the same.
Even if fellow actors and the director had shown up to support, it wouldn’t have been enough, and I ended up with a ‘no-show’. There’s nothing I could say even if I had a hundred mouths.
‘Well, it’s no longer my concern.’
My acting career ended with this stage anyway.
Having dreamed of being an actor all my life, it’s daunting to think about what to do next. But at the moment, even such worries were a luxury.
Immediate concerns like rent, food, phone bills, electricity, and water – even picking out only the essentials made me doubt if I could live normally.
Regardless of my situation or who the other person was, I had to maintain at least the minimum courtesy towards an audience member who made the effort to come to our performance.
“Thank you for coming all this way, I’m sorry you had to see such a disgrace. I will refund your ticket in full.”
“If you’re going to refund, shouldn’t you include the effort and time I spent coming here in the calculation?”
That thought was fleeting.
Suddenly, she stood up and walked towards me. The sound of her high heels, as assertive as her confidence, pierced my ears like arrows.
“Well, if we consider everything, it’s still my loss. But if you send me ten million won right now, I’ll let it go.”
“Are you joking with me…”
“I don’t do such things. It’s a waste of time.”
Confused by the whole situation, I was lost in thought for a moment wondering what the hell was going on. She approached me, lifting the corners of her mouth playfully and said,
“You don’t have the money to refund, do you?”
“How about the opposite, then?”
“I’ll transfer ten million won to your account right now. In exchange, you provide me with the corresponding time and labor. Simple, right?”
Unlike her words that ended with a question mark, her smile was full of certainty, as if the possibility of me refusing didn’t even exist.
Note: Hi, I’m a new translator picking up this series. I will translate around 10-15 chapters and then decide, based on the feedback and popularity, whether I will continue translating it or drop it. Also, if anyone has any other series that they think are better than this and worth picking, please mention them in the comments with their Korean names. Thanks and enjoy!