* * *
“What are you looking at?”
Out of nowhere, a drink piled high with whipped cream was shoved in front of my face. I took a sip of the fall seasonal banana caral cream frappuccino Joo Junseo had handed and let out a small sigh.
“〈Roo and Juliet〉? What’s this.”
“Our finals play....”
“Then you’re Juliet? Who’s Roo.”
“Roo’s obviously Myeong Jeha, and Juliet hasn’t been decided yet.”
A freshman finals play is closer to recreating a single scene than putting on a full play. Purely basic acting. With no proper stage devices to speak of, it’s a sowhat clumsy presentation by freshn.
“If you’re not Juliet, then who is?”
“We have to choose fairly. Among ourselves.”
Still, there wasn’t a single person who wanted to give up the lead spot on stage.
‘And this ti, Do Gyeoul is here, of all people....’
People from the industry would definitely co just to see Do Gyeoul’s stage. It was practically a debut opportunity.
“So what’s the problem that your face looks like that.”
Was it that chronic, disease-like trauma of mine? Or was it because the play the—sothing I’d repeated like a habit every ti I felt the bitterness of being an unknown—had changed?
The truth was, I didn’t know anything for sure right now.
‘Including why I’m acting like this.’
No matter what, it feels like I’ve fallen into a swamp. And the most important thing is this.
“I don’t know my Juliet....”
I’d morized the script a long ti ago. The ending pages were practically frayed.
But I couldn’t feel it.
How was I supposed to beco Juliet? I couldn’t even grab onto a hint, let alone a clue.
“...”
Just monts ago, I’d been acting calmly with Pi Chaewon’s face on, so why was Juliet the one I couldn’t grasp at all?
I had no choice but to admit the reason I’d been trying to pretend I didn’t know.
‘It’s probably because the character I have to interpret is now a character who has to beat Do Gyeoul....’
It felt like I’d gone back to before regression. Han Yeoreum, a naless unknown actor stuck in tiny, insignificant bit parts.
And the opponent—Do Gyeoul—whose life itself was a trophy. From the Baekryong Film Awards to countless prestigious film festivals, to sweeping all three major acting awards. A person whose na alone told you her profession.
Why is your na Roo?
As I stared at the script, I felt an illusion, as if the na Do Gyeoul were shimring over Roo’s na.
Why is your na Do Gyeoul?
Just as I was thinking I could never overco the wall called Do Gyeoul, Joo Junseo casually tossed out a line.
“Can’t you just say one line on stage?”
“...Say what?”
“Just say ‘Ah,’ and then that one line. If people hear your voice, you can just... just take the Juliet spot.”
It wasn’t particularly helpful advice, but it was comforting.
One thing that’s different from before regression: now, at least, I know I’m not alone.
“Please get ready—!”
A staff mber shouted from far away. It was ti to return to Pi Chaewon again.
And so, without finding my Juliet, the audition date drew closer.
* * *
Myeong Jeha pressed the familiar door lock to Dok Gomin’s studio. Just as expected, in the chilly space with no heating on, Han Yeoreum was there.
Next to Yeoreum lay a phone that looked like its battery had completely died.
“So that’s why you weren’t answering.”
Yeoreum didn’t respond. Instead, she stared without blinking at the projector screen.
The movie playing was, of course, 〈Roo and Juliet〉. Jeha sat down beside her on the sofa.
“You know it gets decided tomorrow, right.”
“...Yeah. I know....”
Tomorrow was finally the audition day for Team B’s 〈Roo and Juliet〉. Not a single team mber had said they didn’t want to be Juliet.
Which ant she had to compete with everyone.
Jeha, who had naturally taken the Roo role just by existing, poked Yeoreum’s cheek.
“Alright, elder, you can go now....”
Yeoreum clutched the script with both hands and stared at the screen with hollow eyes. Right then, one of the most famous scenes in 〈Roo and Juliet〉—the love confession—appeared.
—Wherefore art thou Roo?
Yeoreum desperately burned the scene into her eyes. She still seed unable to find her bearings.
Jeha withdrew the hand that had been poking her cheek and took the script Yeoreum was holding.
“Is it that you haven’t morized all the lines yet, or is there another reason?”
“I’ve morized all the lines. I never forgot them to begin with. I’ve never once let go of acting.”
“Then why are you like this here.”
“...I don’t know.”
Jeha answered simply to Yeoreum, who spoke hesitantly.
“Then find it.”
An irritated voice snapped back.
“Do you think that’s easy? I’m anxious because I don’t know if I can even be Juliet. Unlike you and Do Gyeoul, I didn’t have a role decided from the start.”
She was a ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) strange one. Usually overflowing with confidence to the point of self-love, yet when it really mattered, she shrank like this. It was probably because of the ti she’d spent as an unknown.
‘There’s no one in Team B who could beat Han Yeoreum and beco Juliet anyway.’
Jeha ca to a cold conclusion. There was no way Han Yeoreum wasn’t the lead.
No—she absolutely had to be the lead.
Yeoreum sighed again and turned her eyes back to the movie.
‘Her ntal state’s a ss.’
Right now, Han Yeoreum looked like she was having a hard ti keeping her composure. And naturally, Myeong Jeha knew exactly how to manage a shaken mind efficiently.
“Do you know why 〈Roo and Juliet〉 is famous?”
“Because it’s tragic.”
“Then why do you think it’s tragic?”
Of course, if no answer ever ca, her ntal state might shatter into dust—but unlike Jeha’s, Yeoreum’s problem was the kind that had an answer. So it was easy.
“Because their families are enemies. The Capulets and the Montagues. They fall in love even though it’s obvious their families, parents, and relatives will all oppose it. That’s the tragedy.”
“Maybe. But that’s not all. Think a little more. Why did the families fall out in the first place? Political reasons? A fight over honor? Ideological conflict due to politics? Religious strife?”
Jeha could feel focus gradually returning to Yeoreum’s previously vacant eyes. He stared at her intently.
‘As long as I push her toward the essence.’
Han Yeoreum had acted for a very long ti—steadily, persistently, diligently.
It was easy to guess. You could tell just from the way she spoke a single line. So there was no way she’d neglected script analysis either.
The mouth that had been powerless all this ti finally opened.
“...Wouldn’t it be interesting if the families fell apart because they supported different people for the throne? The Montagues, who backed the real king, keep their noble status, while the Capulets, who backed the fallen crown prince, decline. A wealthy Roo and a poor Juliet—the difference in status would be visible just from their clothes. It gives a clear point of contrast compared to other Juliets....”
Her voice gradually gained strength. Yeoreum swallowed once.
“What do you think?”
“About what.”
“...You’re Roo. That Juliet I just described... what do you think? Is it okay?”
Unlike the eyes filled with determination, the end of her voice trembled. Jeha answered shortly.
“Anything.”
It was a reply packed with aning. And it seed to be enough—Yeoreum smiled.
“Do you know a place where I can rent a hanbok? I an, a really good one. The kind anyone would recognize.”
Jeha was about to answer with a habitual “Maybe,” but changed his mind and nodded instead. A smile spread across Yeoreum’s face.
“That’s it. I think I can do it. Juliet.”
A posture full of conviction. The face Jeha had been hoping to see.
There were thirty days left until the finals play.
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