Crunch.

The script in Kim Dong-hoo's hands crumpled.

His grip tightened, expressing the contempt within. Kim Dong-hoo—no, Lee Jae—slowly scanned his surroundings.

There were countless competition certificates hung up like trophies of Eunha Arts High School’s pride. All of them were earned through sheer talent. There was no place for the filth that had crawled up from the bottom.

"If you leave it to me, I’ll personally make sure High Dream ends."

At his resolute statement, the principal looked at Lee Jae with an intrigued expression.

"And how do you plan to do that?" "If we step on them half-heartedly, they’ll just crawl back. We need to make them realize the reality at the Mirinae Competition."

Mirinae.

It was the centerpiece of High Dream's plot, the end-of-year evaluation stage at Eunha Arts High School.

It was a space where talents were tested and a stepping stone for future stars.

Not just an internal event—external industry professionals would come to evaluate the students' abilities.

High Dream aimed to win there.

The maggots crawling up from the bottom—.

Lee Jae, filled with disgust, continued speaking.

"Put High Dream first on the list, and place me last."

No matter how well someone performs, the first act is often forgotten. The final performance, on the other hand, lingers in the memory. Normally, the order was decided by a draw, but that didn’t matter now.

"I’ll leave it to you."

The principal was cunning.

He knew why Lee Jae had no other choice but to act this way, and Principal Wang Ho intended to use that to his advantage.

"I will make sure to repay your trust."

The last line of Scene 55.

The director, unconsciously, yelled:

"CUT!!!"

+++++

"…"

After the unexpected cut, PD Kim Young-mo suggested a 30-minute break to relax.

But no one left their seats. They were too busy processing the shock of what they had just witnessed.

‘Wow...’

In particular, Lee Min-ha, the scriptwriter, was experiencing a dopamine overload that was making her head throb.

She had just witnessed her character come to life, moving and breathing before her eyes. Her imagined scene had been fully realized right in front of her—how could she not feel thrilled? She was on the verge of fainting from the excessive happiness.

‘Dong-hoo has grown into something truly unbelievable.’

Even Kim Yu-ryeon, who hadn’t seen Kim Dong-hoo in a while, was giving him a standing ovation in her mind.

At only fourteen years old, in his first drama, at his first-ever script reading, he had seized the moment and taken control.

The shock she had felt when she saw him in Doctor Kyaaruk! was coming back in full force. PD Kim Young-mo was feeling the same.

‘Kim Dong-hoo, Kim Dong-hoo, Kim Dong-hoo!’

He was tempted to leap out of his chair and hug him on the spot. Normally, the first script reading had a relaxed atmosphere.

Usually, it was more about figuring out the flow than the acting. But the ripple effect of Kim Dong-hoo’s performance had made the entire script reading heavier.

None of the actors, especially the newcomers with no prior experience, wanted to be overshadowed by a total rookie, a kid with no agency, debut, or previous work.

Glances.

Where had this kid come from? Everyone was speechless, clutching their scripts, when—

"Kim Dong-hoo... was it?"

Unable to hold back, the principal—no, actor Jang Geon-ho—spoke up.

"Yes, sir. My name is Kim Dong-hoo." "I see. I look forward to working with you. It seems we’ll be working together a lot."

Quick.

Kim Dong-hoo quickly stood and bowed. He had already bowed to everyone before the reading began, but there was no harm in bowing again.

"Yes! I’ll learn a lot from you." "Haha, we’ll help each other. By the way, have you ever taken acting lessons?"

Jang Geon-ho cut straight to the point.

At the same time, he already knew the answer.

‘He hasn’t.’

This wasn’t something you could learn. This was the realm of extraordinary talent.

The nest of monsters born to dominate the camera, a place everyone yearned for but very few could reach. From what Jang Geon-ho saw, Kim Dong-hoo lived there.

"I haven’t taken formal lessons, so I have a lot to improve on. I’ll work harder from now on." "Haha, harder than this?"

Jang Geon-ho chuckled, clearly amused by how earnest the boy’s response was.

"Can I speak frankly with you?" "Yes, sir. That’s fine." "I heard you don’t have an agency?" "That’s correct."

Slide.

A business card was placed on the table in front of Kim Dong-hoo.

"!"

He had barely said that he didn’t have an agency, and already a business card had been handed to him. The meaning was clear.

"Geon-ho, that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?"

Kim Yu-ryeon smiled softly as she saw the exchange.

"I had my eyes on him for quite some time."

Slide.

She placed her own card on top of Jang Geon-ho’s.

The atmosphere was playful, but their eyes were deadly serious.

"It’s not fair to try to snatch him away like that, you know?" "Haha, what do you mean? It’s just a business card. We’ll be working closely on the show, after all." "Oh, is that so? My mistake, then."

As graceful as ever, Kim Yu-ryon’s reply made Jang Geon-ho gulp. He had known they were close, but he didn’t realize she had her sights set on him. Although, in hindsight, it made perfect sense.

‘A star like that, without an agency? Of course no one would just sit by.’

To anyone watching, Kim Dong-hoo was a gold nugget floating down a river.

The presence of such a valuable figure had thrown the positions of the newcomers from ST Entertainment and Fullady into disarray. Most of them, aged sixteen and up, had faded into the background.

Originally, they expected the senior actors to guide them slowly, but the appearance of this metaphorical catfish had crushed that expectation.

There was nothing they could do but hope the moment would pass quickly.

‘I need to prepare more.’ ‘Is he really going to eat us alive?’ ‘Where did a kid like that come from?’

Amid feelings of awe, envy, and admiration—

"Good work, everyone!"

The short but intense script reading came to an end.

+++++

The morning after the script reading.

As I was getting ready for school, my phone rang.

"Hello." -"Hey, Kim Dong-hoo! Did you really pass?!"

A voice, excited and straight to the point. It was Kim Soo-jin.

"Yeah, I did. I was hoping to see you there since I heard you got an offer, but things didn’t work out." -"Are you serious? So you’re really becoming an actor now? For real?" "Yeah, I guess so." -"Then you have to do a romance drama with me someday." "What?"

What was she talking about all of a sudden?

I laughed at Soo-jin’s boldness. That was way too out of the blue.

As I was about to respond, she continued talking rapidly.

-"Well, we’re only fourteen, so we can’t do any actual romance scenes in High Dream anyway. So, I’m saying when we get older, if you get cast in a romance drama, you have to do it with me!" "I mean, that’s not something we can just decide—" -"No, promise me!"

Click.

She hung up after that.

She must have been really embarrassed. I couldn’t help but find her adorable.

‘Anyway, I guess I’ll have to officially ask for permission soon.’

If I was going to start acting, it would inevitably conflict with my schoolwork. I could deal with exams, but the worst-case scenario was that I wouldn’t be able to meet the attendance requirements. I’d have to discuss this with my teachers.

In the worst-case scenario...

‘It might be hard to get approval for extracurricular activities like acting in 2010.’

If my teachers weren’t on board, things might get tense. Not to mention, this was still a time when schools enforced strict hair regulations, so there were a lot of potential clashes.

But then—

"Oh? Really? Well, of course, you should do that, Dong-hoo. Don’t worry about a thing, just do what you want."

Contrary to my concerns, my homeroom teacher was fully supportive.

"But Dong-hoo, even if you’re busy, it would be great if you could still get involved in school life. Maybe, I don’t know... run for student council president?"

She even wanted to help me boost my school credentials. I looked at her in confusion, and she explained the situation.

"Ever since the police investigated, our school’s been recognized as a model school. So, the principal is really fond of you."

Ah, the romantic era of 2010.

Shinbit Middle School had made it into the papers for being a model school, simply because it had no delinquents.

Of course, it was just two lines buried in the very last page, but the school was thrilled nonetheless.

"Ah, I’m just grateful they think of me so kindly." "As expected of our Dong-hoo! Haha! Always so straightforward."

My homeroom teacher clapped me on the back, reassuring me that there was nothing to worry about.

"Just let me know by text when you can’t make it to class." "And, um, I might need to dye my hair for a role—" "Didn’t I say everything’s fine, Dong-hoo? Just trust Teacher Jang Bo-seok! But no complaints if we hang a banner at school after your drama airs, okay?"

Wait, what?

What did she mean by that?

+++++

Time flew by.

Summer vacation passed, and it was already September.

The first day of shooting for High Dream.

The staff were casually chatting as they enjoyed the relatively cool weather.

"But no matter how well he acts, won’t his physique be a bit of an issue?"

Their conversation revolved around Kim Dong-hoo.

At fourteen years old, he was playing a high school student. His mature aura might be enough, but there was another problem.

"Yeah, he’s only about 170 cm, right? That’s pretty short compared to the other actors."

Height.

With most of the other actors being around the mid-to-high 170s, Kim Dong-hoo was on the smaller side.

On top of that, he was playing the villain opposing High Dream. A smaller build could ruin the impact of his role.

"This is worrying."

Most of the staff hadn’t been present for the script reading, so their concerns were understandable.

And then—

"Hello, I’m Kim Dong-hoo, playing Lee Jae."

The very person they had been talking about appeared.

"Wow..."

He was every bit as handsome as the rumors suggested. But something was off.

He was supposed to be smaller, wasn’t he?

A thought clicked in the staff’s minds.

Fourteen.

That’s the age when boys shoot up like weeds.

‘No way…’

Sure enough, Kim Dong-hoo had shot up over the summer.

At fourteen, he was now 173 cm.

As if proving that genetics are on his side, Kim Dong-hoo’s presence grew even larger.

‘Wait a minute…’

The staff suddenly realized.

‘Isn’t this kid going to overshadow the main character?’

They worried that if things went too far, the villain’s popularity might eclipse the lead.