The commercial building had peeling cement and dust piled everywhere. If the windows hadn't been open, anyone would've assumed the place had gone out of business.
Mu-yeong climbed the stairs with a tense expression.
"Im Junho."
"Yeah?"
"Why are you following me?"
Unlike cautious Mu-yeong, Junho was all smiles. When Mu-yeong blocked the stairs with his foot and asked, his friend immediately switched to a solemn, overly serious look.
"You know there are lots of scammers in this field. And the building's already a red flag. I was worried clueless Ha Mu-yeong might suddenly stamp a contract. So just say thank you and let me lead the way. Ahem."
"Keep talking. You think I wouldn't know?"
"Heh. Heheheh."
They were at the age where girls were always on their minds. Since it was an acting academy, Junho was already imagining how pretty the students would be, grinning lewdly.
"Honestly, I've got a celebrity face too."
"Sure. Life's all about confidence."
"Oh? You don't agree?"
Creak—
Ignoring him, Mu-yeong pushed open the door to the academy. Like the outside, the interior was shabby. A man sprawled across a worn leather sofa jolted upright in surprise.
"Uwah!"
He'd clearly been napping.
"Ah, welcome."
The man was broad-shouldered and burly enough to look like an athlete.
But his shoulder-length hair and neatly tied little beard hinted at the soul of an eccentric artist.
"What can I do for you?"
"Uh, I wanted some counseling…"
"Counseling! For acting?"
"Isn't this an acting academy?"
"Right, right. Come sit."
He cleared snacks off the table and gestured them over. It didn't look professional at all. Mu-yeong and Junho exchanged glances.
If things go south, we bolt.
Agreed.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Director Jung Oh-seok. Heh."
He placed cocoa in front of them and sat opposite, scanning the two boys.
"So who's here for counseling…"
Seven years running this academy had taught Oh-seok one thing:
Yes, acting was about steady growth, but most kids who came to acting academies didn't want that.
"Ha Mu-yeong."
"Ah, it's you then!"
Oh-seok pitied those kids.
And, if he was being honest, looked down on them too. Like stubborn moths flying straight into the sun.
He'd driven away the ones more interested in fame than craft, and the result was this dingy little building he now rented.
"Well, you're very handsome. You're from Sejin High? What grade?"
The tall, striking student instantly drew the eye. Junho was good-looking too, but the aura was different. And usually, it was kids like this who came inflated with delusions.
If that was the case, he'd politely send him away.
…Even if it meant eating instant noodles for the third day in a row.
"Senior year."
"Still senior?"
"No, I'm graduating."
"I see…"
The timing was odd.
Acting majors usually started preparing from their first year of high school. Now was the season when results were coming out. Stroking his chin, Oh-seok speculated.
Is he repeating? What's the case here?
Flunked the entrance exam, now trying to escape into acting on looks alone?
That was the worst-case scenario. Oh-seok masked his thoughts with a smile.
"Preparing for a theater and film department? Honestly, repeating students have an easier time in modeling or other fields than acting."
"No. I'm not interested in that. I want to learn acting regardless of college admissions."
Oh. Unexpectedly firm answer.
That made him hopeful. Choosing acting at such a critical time meant he was serious about it.
"Ever acted before?"
"Not once."
"Then I'd have to recommend the adult class."
Oh-seok slid over a curriculum booklet.
"Is there a difference in price between classes?"
"Think of it as a difference in level. Beginner, intermediate, advanced. Beginner's the most expensive—since there's more to teach. Ah, and I personally teach all classes."
Beginner: ₩500,000 per month. Intermediate: ₩400,000. Advanced: ₩300,000. Mu-yeong quietly reeled.
Why's it so expensive?
Far beyond his means. He had no idea why the flower dust had led him here—there was no way he could afford it.
"Advanced class means you're audition-ready. We film every session and give feedback through monitors. Groups are small, never more than five. My résumé's all listed there too."
Which schools, which theater companies, multiple drama appearances, etc.
Of course, the "small group" thing was more out of necessity than prestige, but advertising worked that way.
"And the most important—audition pass rate! Eighty-five percent of BV Academy students—"
"How long does it usually take to reach advanced level?"
Mu-yeong wasn't interested in flashy pamphlets. What mattered was: how much time—meaning, how much money—would it cost to learn properly?
"Depends on the individual. If you've got talent, six months to a year. Most kids start from first year, so by graduation the results are clear."
Objectively, not that long. It only seemed late because the industry scouted such ridiculously young kids.
"Hm."
Mu-yeong leaned on his chin in thought.
Even on paper, it was way beyond what he could pay. Some things were simply impossible.
Creak.
"We're here!"
"Teacher! You won't believe what Yuchan did today—"
The door burst open and half a dozen students filed in, wearing all sorts of uniforms, even from far-off schools. Oh-seok checked his watch.
"Already?"
Though he'd relocated, they still came from afar to learn under him.
Mu-yeong realized from their uniforms that this must be the case.
"Go in and warm up first."
"Yes! Ugh, I'm frozen stiff."
"Today's video session, so set things up."
"Hurry in, teacher."
The atmosphere was casual, friendly. Oh-seok turned back to Mu-yeong with a sly suggestion.
"You know, acting's really all about practice. How about sitting in for a trial class?"
That was the instinct of a veteran—or maybe the desperation of someone scraping by. He could sense Mu-yeong wavering.
He needed enrollments if he wanted to eat more than ramen this month.
"Is that okay?"
"Of course. Every academy offers sample classes. Come on, stand up. I'll show you the facilities. We've got everything you'll need."
With a genial smile, he guided them. Junho leaned in to whisper to Mu-yeong:
"Did you see that girl just now?"
"From Jinhwa Girls'?"
"She was pretty."
"Shut up. Please."
Whisper, whisper—Mu-yeong ground his teeth and pinched Junho's side.
The inside was wider than expected. Director Oh-seok hadn't been exaggerating when he said the place had everything.
"There are two practice rooms. One for classes, one for self-practice. There's also a locker room and showers. You can even cook simple meals here—though if you do, you've gotta share with me. Hahaha."
Because this building was also his home! He'd poured his entire deposit into running the academy.
"The class you'll be sitting in is the intermediate group. They're all theater and film hopefuls. Some have already gotten results, others are still waiting."
The facilities were definitely old, but decently maintained. Oh-seok opened the practice room door.
Click—
"Ahhh—ahhhh—ahhh—"
"Ae-e-i-o-u—Ae-e!"
Students were warming up their bodies and voices in their own ways. Oh-seok pulled out two chairs in the corner for them.
"Just watch comfortably."
"Thank you."
"Alright! Everyone finished warming up?"
"Teacher, it's freezing! Turn the heater on!"
"Brat, you're cold because you didn't warm up properly."
Mu-yeong and Junho clutched their bags and sat in the back. The class began with simple stretching.
"No matter the role, you'll be using your muscles. Get in the habit of stretching—it's essential."
Click.
While they finished, Oh-seok hooked his laptop to the TV. A few clicks later, a famous romance movie scene appeared on the screen.
Two pairs of feet intertwined, toes playfully wriggling against each other.
"Close-ups of body parts for emotional expression are used all the time. Usually it's the eyes—since they're the foundation of expression and the most intuitive. Of course, an extreme close-up of just the pupils changes things. Anyway!"
Mu-yeong and Junho watched with fascination. How often did anyone get to sit in on an acting class? It was like discovering a new world.
"Next."
Oh-seok showed more examples of close-ups and how they conveyed emotion.
"Today, we'll practice with hands. Express either love or anger—your choice. No time limit. Props allowed. Dialogue allowed, but only as a tool to support the emotion. The camera will only capture your hands. What does that mean?"
"That the emotion has to come across even without sound."
"Bingo. Since you spoke, Yuchan, you go first."
The boy's name was Ki Yuchan, with bright, open eyes and a refreshing smile.
"Which will you do?"
He stepped before the old camera. Every session was filmed, and feedback given the same day. Mu-yeong studied him on the monitor.
He looks good on screen.
"Anger."
Naturally—it was the easier one, being more explosive.
The director pressed record.
"Action!"
Yuchan clasped his hands. Though the camera only showed his hands, anger slowly built on his face as well.
Crack—
The sound of joints popping. He set his hands on the desk, the trembling fingers radiating uncontrollable rage.
Bang!
Then he slammed them down hard.
"Okay, cut."
Not bad, not great. The best part was that he'd managed it without dialogue.
"Next, Kang Bora."
The girl from Jinhwa Girls' High. Long straight hair, chic features, elegance radiating like a rich family's daughter. Junho was about to gush, but Mu-yeong pinched his thigh to shut him up.
Snap.
Bora placed her hand at her waist, gripping her collar. While Yuchan had gone for explosive fury, Bora conveyed sharp, irritable anger instead.
"Okay, cut. Next."
Most students chose anger, and most acted in similar ways—breaking, hitting, shaking.
Watching the monitor, Oh-seok suddenly turned. Mu-yeong's eyes were sparkling, practically glowing with focus.
"Your name was Ha Mu-yeong, right?"
"Yes?"
"Want to try a camera test?"
The courage to step up in front of strangers—that alone was already part of the test.
He didn't expect much, since the boy had said he'd never acted before.
"The beginner class meets tomorrow, actually."
The beginner level usually only covered voice projection and simple lines. Mu-yeong hesitated, then walked to the camera.
"Hello. Please excuse me."
"Wow, he's handsome!"
"So tall!"
The students cheered. They'd all been in his shoes once. Oh-seok folded his arms and watched the monitor.
Doesn't look as good on camera.
He was much better in person. Clearly he didn't yet know how to stand before a lens.
"So, what'll you do?"
Anger, of course, Oh-seok thought.
But the reply surprised him.
"I'll do love."
"Ooooh—"
The kids reacted enthusiastically, being the same age.
"Props are fine too, right?"
"Whatever's comfortable."
It was only a test, after all.
Mu-yeong beckoned to Junho.
"Come here."
"Me? No way."
"Come on, hurry."
"What the—no! I said no."
Just having all eyes on him was too embarrassing. Junho refused with a red face. Then Bora confidently stood.
"If you need a partner, I'll do it."
They needed to move quickly for feedback, after all. Mu-yeong shot Junho a glare, then bowed slightly to her.
"Thank you."
"Alright then—action!"
Oh-seok's eyes widened as he watched the monitor. Mu-yeong's presence had completely changed.
What the…?
Mu-yeong faced Bora.
For several seconds, silently.
Then he smiled faintly and lifted his thumb to her lips—touching them with utmost care, as if they were the most precious thing in the world.
Well, well. Look at that.
What is this kid?
Without a single line.
His hand gently brushed along her lower lip.
In the quiet that followed, the only thing anyone could feel was the desperate tenderness of love.