Chapter 19 : I’m a Living Actor (19)

‘I thought it was obvious that Yoo Chaemin can’t act.’

That was the common perception of the actress Yoo Chaemin, and even now that I had possessed her body, my acting hadn’t noticeably improved.

So, it was simply a fact.

I knew that myself, and having fully accepted it, I didn’t think any special consideration was necessary.

‘Is he getting close just to care about me?’

It might be less about the fact that I couldn’t act and more about worrying over Yoo Chaemin having to stay in that state.

He never said it outright, but I already knew that Seo Sangwoo was surprised by how earnest and hardworking I was about acting.

And that was something I exploited to craft Yoo Chaemin’s image.

A character who was sincere about acting to some degree, with a decent eye for it, but just wasn’t as good at acting as people thought.

“If you’re worried about me, that’s okay. I need to be able to look at myself objectively for my acting to improve.”

Still, I thought it wouldn’t be good to let him keep worrying, so I said it firmly.

But Seo Sangwoo’s face remained troubled.

It wasn’t pity but genuine distress — a look that felt raw and sincere enough to make me slightly uncomfortable.

‘Why does he care that much?’

It was true that we had grown closer in a short time, but calling us close was an exaggeration.

Most of our meetings had centered around acting, so we actually knew less about each other’s personal sides.

More like colleagues than friends.

We might keep in touch after the project ended, but wouldn’t necessarily meet up on our own.

‘…I shouldn’t overthink this.’

Anyway, the discomfort I felt came from unfamiliarity.

I hadn’t often experienced someone being genuinely upset about something concerning me.

So I just needed to accept it as it was without digging deeper.

Seo Sangwoo was just that kind of person. Different from me.

Seo Sangwoo seemed like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Instead of rushing him or cutting him off, I played the video again.

On the screen, it was Yoo Chaemin, not Myung Seungho, awkwardly repeating her expressions.

‘At least it’s a relief that with Seo Sangwoo around, there’s no perception distortion.’

Watching the clumsy acting, that thought suddenly came to me.

After accepting Seo Sangwoo’s apology and getting serious about discussing acting, I had gained something important.

I finally knew how others perceived my acting — the thing I needed most.

Others saw me as I saw myself.

And on top of that, Seo Sangwoo actively gave me feedback.

How great was that?

So until this project wrapped, I needed to maintain a good relationship with Seo Sangwoo.

,No stirring up trouble; let some things slide appropriately.

“I’m just…”

At that moment, Seo Sangwoo’s voice came.

“I guess I’m just a little confused and maybe worried too. When I apologized for what I did back then…”

He hesitated but continued.

“If it were me, honestly, I think I’d have been a bit angry. Even if I didn’t say it out loud, I would’ve shown some displeasure. But you… I mean, Chaemin, didn’t show any sign of that at all.”

For a moment, I felt a pang inside.

“It’s just like that. Actually, that’s why I keep worrying, I think.”

‘That’s because…’

My gaze stayed fixed on the phone screen.

The video ended on Yoo Chaemin — not Myung Seungho.

‘Because I’m not really Yoo Chaemin.’

That thought popped up from time to time.

If she were the real Yoo Chaemin, how would she feel in this situation?

I could easily imagine it.

No matter how kind or gentle she was, she would feel humiliated.

If she didn’t even feel that, it would mean there was something seriously wrong with her personality.

But that was only a thought, not an emotion that resonated with me.

Because I wasn’t the real Yoo Chaemin.

Yoo Chaemin was originally a bad actress, so bad that even I thought her acting was miserable.

So being exposed to biased views was inevitable.

My acting now was the same.

There was a clear reason why I had to be hurt and offended — it was just the company’s messed-up manipulation.

‘Damn company’s scheme.’

So what could I do? I had to accept it and think about what comes next.

Wasting emotion was poison.

“……”

Usually, the thought would have ended there, but a new tail formed.

‘If it were Myung Seungho’s face, would I have stayed this calm?’

As soon as the sentence popped into my mind, my stomach tightened.

My organs twisted, and a cold sweat broke out.

No need to look far.

If, for some reason, my acting skill had dropped to this level, and this clumsy acting done as Yoo Chaemin was done as Myung Seungho, as myself?

‘…I’d just have to die.’

If I were going to act like that, I’d have to die.

There was no need to stay alive.

Yeah.

I had to admit it.

The only reason I could be this calm was that Yoo Chaemin’s life wasn’t really mine.

Seeing Yoo Chaemin’s life from Myung Seungho’s perspective — it had its reasons and was somewhat bearable.

I barely stopped myself from bursting out a bitter laugh.

Even so, what good would it do?

There was no way to explain all this to Seo Sangwoo or expect him to understand.

In the end, I just had to dodge the topic and move on.

“Oh… so that’s how it is.”

“……”

“I guess I’ve gotten used to holding things in.”

That was the best excuse I could come up with.

When I glanced at Seo Sangwoo’s face, his expression twisted painfully, as if he finally understood.

Not just because of the ‘bad actress’ label, but because he had seen how my manager treated me on set, this was the kind of reaction that could come out.

“…Well, you’ve been in the entertainment industry a long time. You must’ve been through a lot. Really, a lot…”

I was thankful he understood without me saying anything, but I wondered if it was just my imagination or if he kept calling me “hyung” (older brother).

“But still… I hope it doesn’t happen again. I’m not one to say this, but you’re truly a great person and a good actor. I’m embarrassed every time I think about how I judged you without knowing anything.”

I had no idea what gave him the confidence to be this honest. But…

“You keep slipping in ‘hyung’, huh?”

“Hmm? You can talk comfortably, you know?”

Seo Sangwoo wasn’t embarrassed; instead, he pushed the chance.

“Really?”

His expression instantly fell.

He looked like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Yeah… Anyway, that’s what I think.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

The conversation came to a temporary close.

After ordering fresh drinks, Seo Sangwoo and I focused on script study.

We had taken seats near the wall with my back turned, so thankfully no one recognized Yoo Chaemin.

Only after finishing our fourth round of drinks did the long script study finally end.

“Ugh, you really worked hard.”

“You did too, Sangwoo.”

Seo Sangwoo chuckled, rubbing his own belly for no reason.

“Ha, I’m hungry… If I suggest we eat before parting, you’ll say no, right?”

“You know me too well.”

“I thought so.”

Seo Sangwoo smiled brightly without a hint of offense.

We gathered our things and left the café. The sky was darkening, but the muggy heat lingered.

We decided to walk together to the main road to catch a taxi.

Like a dog out for a stroll, Seo Sangwoo glanced around and made small talk.

Then, suddenly, he said this.

“Ah, today was really fun.”

“……”

“It’s always fun, but today was especially so. It’s my first day off, and it wasn’t a waste at all. I’m dying to get back to filming soon.”

His honest words, filled with genuine feeling, stuck in my mind.

‘Was it fun?’

I wasn’t sure.

But it didn’t seem bad.

‘…It’s been a while. I haven’t had such a candid conversation about acting with a colleague in a long time.’

At least that much was clear.

I wasn’t tortured by my imperfect, inadequate acting to the point of death.

I didn’t need to put up walls or guard myself so the other’s words wouldn’t hit me wrong.

At least when talking about acting, I hid nothing and dressed nothing up.

Thinking this brought a strange sense of liberation.

It felt like my body was slightly floating and my fingertips tingled… A strange, unfamiliar feeling.

“Yeah, it really was fun.”

So I gladly replied like that.

I could feel Seo Sangwoo’s excitement even without looking.

“It’d be great if Choi could join us too.”

“……”

“I even tried contacting her yesterday, but she turned me down again. She must be really busy.”

“……”

“If the three of us got together, it’d be even more fun.”

His voice was full of regret.

‘Lee Choi…’

Her image from the set lingered painfully in my mind.

Unfortunately, nothing had improved.

Lee Choi’s acting was slowly, very slowly, getting worse.

I wasn’t sure, but I had some idea of her condition.

A slump.

For some unknown reason, Lee Choi seemed to be stuck in a slump.

‘I have a bad feeling that she might break down one day…’

I hurriedly pushed the ominous premonition out of my head.

…

“Choi, Lee Choi?”

Lee Choi woke up to the touch shaking her body.

As consciousness rose from beneath the surface of sleep, the familiar headache came crashing down.

Her already awful mood sank even lower, and her brows knitted tightly.

“Ah! Why! Why do you keep waking me up!”

Annoyance boiled over, and the words spilled out unfiltered.

Her shrill voice nearly tore through the eardrums.

It was her own voice, but it sounded strange and chilling, like someone else’s.

‘This is really the worst.’

She hated her voice, her face—nothing about herself pleased her.

No wonder her acting was so poor.

Why am I like this? Ah, I don’t know. I just want to sleep…

The intense urge to escape brought sleep crashing back.

Just as her eyes fluttered closed, someone grabbed her shoulder firmly.

“Choi! What’s wrong with you!”

A voice full of concern.

It was her mother.

‘Mom?’

Lee Choi snapped awake.

Her blurred vision cleared, and things she hadn’t been able to see properly came into focus.

‘…Ah.’

Inside the van. The stylist who had worked with her for a long time looked at Lee Choi with an unfamiliar expression.

The van, which had been moving, was now parked.

Her mother, who should’ve been in the driver’s seat, was beside her.

The moment she met her mother’s gaze, filled with worry and love, a sharp guilt stabbed at Lee Choi’s heart.

‘What have I done now?’

“I-I’m sorry.”

The polite speech came out automatically, something she rarely used.