Seoyeon was taken aback when Jiyeon asked her for help with the audition. It wasn't because she had forgotten about Jiyeon’s audition due to managing her own image or being slightly annoyed at Jiyeon for hanging out with Jo Seohui recently.
No, Seoyeon had been keeping track of Jiyeon’s audition date daily.
…Though it did bother her a little that Jiyeon had only asked Jo Seohui for help.
That feeling stemmed from the fact that Jiyeon had been Seoyeon’s closest friend since childhood.
‘I get why she asked Jo Seohui, though.’
In her past life, Jo Seohui hadn’t appeared in Gyeongseong Lady. After receiving harsh criticism for her performance in The Moon Hiding the Sun, she wasn’t very active in the industry and wasn’t considered a top actress.
‘She might not have been cast in the first place.’
But the Jo Seohui of today was different. Seoyeon, despite her efforts, had only just caught up with her in terms of recognition, and no one could easily say who was more successful.
Seoyeon didn’t really care about ranking herself above or below anyone.
‘Anyway.’
While feeling a bit sad that Jiyeon had asked Jo Seohui for help, Seoyeon was relieved for one reason: Gyeongseong Lady had a much larger focus on romance than even Dream Future, which had been awkward for her.
“Did Jo Seohui tell you what your role might be?” Seoyeon asked.
“Yeah.”
Seoyeon and Jo Seohui had already been pre-cast in the upcoming Baek Min director’s movie. They had received the script and discussed it beforehand.
After some contemplation, Seoyeon accepted the role. Jo Seohui, upon Seoyeon’s acceptance, had excitedly said:
“Right? I knew you’d do it. Sure, there are a few intense scenes, but I’m confident the movie’s quality will make up for it!”
Jo Seohui had even turned down Mine to focus on filming Gyeongseong Lady. After reaching the top in Hyper Action Star, she was one of the few actors—alongside Han Soyu and Min Doha—who had displayed solid performances.
It seemed the GH Group had offered casting proposals to all three of them. Seoyeon didn’t know what the others had decided.
The only person she knew about for sure was Jo Seohui.
When she had asked Jo Seohui about it, she had replied:
“I can’t handle multiple projects at once, unlike you.”
Jo Seohui had squinted and added:
“If anything, it’s more normal for an actor who focuses on emotional performances, like you, to struggle with multiple projects at once. You’re the strange one.”
That might be true. Some actors struggled to separate themselves from their roles once they became too absorbed. Seoyeon’s ability to separate roles and control her emotions likely stemmed from her past life, giving her a significant advantage.
‘Jo Seohui does have a good eye for scripts.’
It wasn’t for nothing that she had yet to fail in choosing her roles. Jo Seohui had a remarkable instinct for selecting successful projects.
When talking about Gyeongseong Lady, she had said:
“There are certain elements that might make it a bit weaker in the Korean market, but I’m sure it’ll do well overseas, and critics will love it.”
Later, when Gyeongseong Lady received rave reviews, Seohui’s prediction turned out to be spot on.
‘Though, it’s not like it underperformed in Korea.’
The film had drawn 4 million viewers. Even though Seoyeon had recently been in a film that reached 10 million, Gyeongseong Lady’s 4 million was a phenomenal achievement, especially for a film with LGBT themes.
Of course, “The King's Love”, a movie about homosexuals, has already passed 10 million, but the lesbian theme in “Lady Kyungsoon”was still somewhat unexplored.
‘It could’ve done even better.’
The story, direction, and screenplay were all excellent. The only issue was…
‘The cast.’
The film’s casting had two major problems. If those were addressed, Gyeongseong Lady’s domestic performance would undoubtedly improve.
“Thanks for helping me out. The audition script has… some connections to Jo Seohui.”
Seoyeon’s thoughts were interrupted by Jiyeon’s voice. They were currently in Nova Entertainment’s practice room together.
“With Jo Seohui?”
“There are three scenes in the audition, and all of them involve Jo Seohui. She’s both the judge and my acting partner.”
So, Jo Seohui would be there, too.
“She’s definitely not going to go easy on me.”
Of course. While Jo Seohui might be intimidated by Jiyeon in personal interactions, she was different when it came to acting.
When it came to performing, Jo Seohui was relentless. She’d likely approach this audition with the intent of completely outshining her opponent.
“If that’s the case, why not ask Jo Seohui for help?”
“Ju Seoyeon, I told you. She’s a judge.”
In other words, Jiyeon considered it unfair to seek help from a judge before an audition.
“I want the competition to be fair.”
While she had received some help from Jo Seohui before, she refused to accept any assistance directly related to the audition. This showed just how seriously Jiyeon was taking this role.
‘She didn’t show this much seriousness during her LaMiel stream.’
In fact, Jiyeon had collaborated with a magician on that stream, much to Seoyeon’s dismay. It had happened while Seoyeon was filming Golden Ducklings, and she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the spectacle.
‘Hopefully, they’ll edit it out.’
Along with the antics her father had pulled. But… this was a variety show, and Seoyeon had a sinking feeling that the editors might leave everything in.
She wasn’t sure how the footage from Golden Ducklings had been edited yet, as it hadn’t aired.
“You seem pretty calm about all this. I thought you’d be more anxious.”
Jiyeon was surprised by how easily Seoyeon agreed to help. She assumed Seoyeon, who would soon be filming again, would be more nervous about practicing for such a sensitive scene.
Gyeongseong Lady wasn’t a film with overtly explicit scenes, but it did require the actors to delicately convey emotional intimacy, making it a challenge to portray.
‘Isn’t it strange to practice something like this with a friend?’
Jiyeon glanced at Seoyeon, who stood there with a calm expression, unreadable as ever. She had expected at least a little awkwardness from her, but Seoyeon seemed utterly unbothered.
‘Middle school Seoyeon was more fun.’
Back then, Seoyeon had been a wild child, unable to control her emotions, and Jiyeon sometimes missed that chaotic side of her. In a way, it was fortunate Seoyeon hadn’t pursued acting earlier. Jiyeon had briefly experienced a time when she was ahead of Seoyeon.
‘If I don’t succeed this time…’
Jiyeon felt a sudden, vague anxiety. If she didn’t pass this audition, she might never have the chance to stand on equal footing with Seoyeon again.
If Seoyeon hadn’t been around, Jiyeon would have likely quit acting long ago. Seoyeon had always been a guiding star for her, like the North Star lighting up the night sky, showing her the way.
Jiyeon wanted to reach that North Star, and to do that, she needed to succeed in the Gyeongseong Lady audition.
If she failed…
‘No.’
Shaking off her doubts, Jiyeon refocused on the task at hand. All she could do now was think about passing.
With that determination, she gripped her script tightly.
The Gyeongseong Lady audition involved acting out a scene with Jo Seohui. Specifically, it required actors to portray a subtle, emotional tension with the character of “the Lady.”
Because this was a theme less familiar to domestic audiences, the judges were eager to see how well the actors could handle it.
And Seoyeon had the same concerns.
‘Honestly, it’s hard for me too.’
Love scenes were always difficult. While she had managed to fake her way through Dream Future, she wasn’t sure she could pull it off again this time.
Whether it was a male or female counterpart, Seoyeon still felt an inherent discomfort.
It was due to her past life, as well as her current life. As long as her past self lingered, there was an emotional barrier she couldn’t overcome.
Perhaps acting with a woman would be slightly easier for her, but either way, she couldn’t escape the psychological challenges.
‘…Love.’
It was burdensome. But at the same time, it was an emotion Seoyeon longed to experience for herself.
One day.
Perhaps, when she finally graduated from her past self, things would change. That vague hope lingered.
Though it still felt like it would be a long time before she reached that point. She needed to become a truly great actor first.
“I’ll be a different ‘Lady’ than Jo Seohui.”
Seoyeon had already memorized all of Jiyeon’s lines for the “Lady” character. It had taken her less than ten minutes to go through the script, analyze the emotional arc, and look back at Jiyeon.
“But don’t go easy on me. Pretend this is a real audition.”
Seoyeon understood what Jiyeon was thinking. She had no intention of letting Jiyeon fail.
Love scenes were hard for her. Emotional acting was her weak point. But she had to push those doubts aside for now.
They stood across from each other.
Taking a deep breath, Seoyeon’s eyes slowly turned red.
"Seonye, bring me my shawl. There’s an auction today."
Her eyes softened, and her crimson lips curled into a seductive smile.
“Well, I must look my most beautiful, don’t you think?”
With a delicate hand cupping her chin, Seoyeon tilted her head slightly. Her movements were graceful, captivating.
Jiyeon was momentarily frozen. The Seoyeon who had been talking to her moments ago was gone.
She had only seen Seoyeon perform a few times in practice, but never like this.
Most of the time, Seoyeon’s acting had been just a casual practice.
And Jiyeon had only really seen Seoyeon perform through a screen.
‘This is why.’
Jiyeon suddenly understood why other actors felt overshadowed whenever Seoyeon acted.
The aura she exuded as an actor was different.
It was easy to forget that Seoyeon was a professional actress because of her usual persona, but the truth was undeniable. She was on a completely different level than most of their peers, aside from maybe Jo Seohui and Park Jung-woo.
The atmosphere felt stifling, and Jiyeon was momentarily lost, unsure of how to respond emotionally.
"First, you should put on your makeup, ma’am. The shawl can wait."
Jiyeon lowered her head, speaking calmly. Her experience in cable dramas helped her deliver her lines smoothly.
In this scene, the “Lady” was teasing her maid, Seonye, though she already harbored some feelings for her. Meanwhile, Seonye was purposefully avoiding her.
The next line would reveal more of the Lady’s true feelings.
Just as Jiyeon was about to delve deeper into the character’s emotions, Seoyeon suddenly said:
“Stop.”
Her tone was blunt. Jiyeon blinked in surprise, unsure of what she meant, while Seoyeon tapped her chin thoughtfully.
‘This sounds a lot like something I was told as a kid.’
Unconsciously, Seoyeon had imitated the haughty tone of her mentor, actress Jung Eun-sun. Realizing that, she found it slightly amusing but also off-putting.
But her previous words had been sincere.
‘The acting feels too flat.’
Had Jo Seohui not pointed that out? No, she must have. Otherwise, Jiyeon wouldn’t be nodding along as if she already expected this feedback.
“You’re not showing enough emotion?”
“It’s different. You’re showing too much, and it’s too predictable.”
Seoyeon explained:
“Acting should make the audience feel anticipation. If everything you’re going to do is obvious, it gets boring.”
Anticipation.
There were many ways to build that tension—by creating complexity in your emotions or acting contrary to what the lines suggested.
“I think Jo Seohui said something similar.”
Jiyeon admitted she was having trouble grasping it fully. Seoyeon nodded.
“I’ll teach you.”
“Huh?”
“So just focus on me.”
Seoyeon’s smile curled into something mischievous, similar to the “Lady” from the script.
“I’m confident I can show you how now.”
Teaching wasn’t Seoyeon’s strong suit. Her default mindset was always, Why can’t they just do it?
But as she gained more control over her emotions and acting, she had also learned how to analyze and explain it better. Combining that with the “emotional mimicry” she had learned in her past life, Seoyeon had started to see acting in a more technical light.
So now, she intended to guide Jiyeon to deliver a performance that would shock everyone at the audition.
The Gyeongseong Lady audition was being held in a building in Gangnam. It was bustling with activity, even early in the morning.
Several actors had arrived early, but it didn’t feel particularly crowded.
More actors would trickle in, but it wouldn’t be an overwhelming number.
“There don’t seem to be too many applicants.”
Director Baek Min laughed as he glanced at the audition room, seemingly pleased despite the low turnout.
“There may be fewer of them, but the quality is good. They’re all actors I’m familiar with.”
These kinds of auditions often attracted a large number of rookie actors. However, this time, for some reason, the number of rookies seemed noticeably lower.
“There were more applicants, weren’t there?”
Baek Min mused as he chuckled.
“Yes, but many have dropped out.”
Despite the smaller number, he wore a satisfied smile.
“Seohui, what do you think?”
He asked playfully, turning to Jo Seohui. She, having been absorbed in reading the script, narrowed her eyes as if to say, Stop with the jokes.
“The competition will be fierce.”
Even with fewer participants, it was the quality of the actors that mattered. It wasn’t about how many different performances you saw; the goal was to find the one actor who stood out above the rest.
If the talent was strong, then the competition would be intense.
‘That’s always the case with Baek Min’s auditions.’
Some actors underestimated these auditions because of the smaller pool of candidates. However, actors often developed a preference for certain directors, and Baek Min was one of those directors with a dedicated following.
His films had such a unique style that many actors gravitated toward them.
So, it wasn’t surprising that the audition room was filled with familiar faces—actors who had auditioned for or worked with Baek Min before, including seasoned veterans.
‘This won’t be easy for Jiyeon.’
Jo Seohui thought to herself. She had watched Jiyeon’s practice sessions, but her performance had still felt somewhat lackluster.
Although Jiyeon wasn’t nervous, her acting didn’t quite pop. It wasn’t bad, but it lacked that extra spark.
‘She doesn’t seem nervous.’
Jo Seohui glanced at Jiyeon, who was sitting calmly, waiting for her turn. Her expression was composed.
It was Jo Seohui who felt more anxious.
But at the same time, as she looked at Jiyeon again…
‘…Something seems different?’
She had heard that Jiyeon had been practicing with Seoyeon. Was that why?
Practicing with Seoyeon, huh.
“Heh.”
“Seohui, why are you laughing?”
“Huh? Oh, did I laugh?”
“Yes.”
Hearing Baek Min’s question, Jo Seohui awkwardly covered her mouth with her hand. She needed to compose herself.
Still, I’m looking forward to it.
After the brief glimpse of Seoyeon’s acting during Hyper Action Star, Jo Seohui was eager to see what it would be like working with her on the same film.
And then…
“Alright, let’s begin the audition. Contestants 1 through 5, please come in!”
The Gyeongseong Lady audition had officially begun.
Nice