༺ Requesting Cloud Support from a Shooting Star – 10 ༻
“So people shoot videos in places like this these days.”
Hee-wook, who had entered the four-person study room reserved by Eun-sung, plopped down his bag. It was his first visit to the place.
Leaving Hee-wook who was looking around with curiosity, Eun-sung was adjusting the height of the phone holder with a serious expression. He sat on the chair to check how his face appeared, and then repeated the process of adjusting the height.
Hee-wook tried to help, but Eun-sung waved him off saying he was done. Eventually, Hee-wook retreated awkwardly and took his seat.
“Do I just sit here and do it?”
“Yes, you’ll be talking while sitting, as per the scenario in the script.”
Upon hearing Eun-sung’s words, Hee-wook checked the script once again. The given situation was a conversation among idol group members in a conference room. The scene was about a member, who disagreed with the protagonist, confronting him and eventually storming out in anger.
“Even though they divide the audition into three rounds… To judge everything by a single video. I’m used to going in person from the start.”
As he gently touched his eyebrow bone, Hee-wook let out a faint sigh.
“Is it an advantage or a disadvantage?”
“It’s an advantage if you act well.”
Eun-sung, who took his hands off the phone holder, sat back in the chair.
“It’s a disadvantage for those who, despite lacking acting skills, were able to secure a spot by their quick wit on the scene.”
“Which side are we on?”
“Well…”
Eun-sung adjusted his mask that had slipped down below his nose. Hee-wook stared intently at Eun-sung who had covered half of his face.
“Seems like we’re neither.”
Eun-sung muttered darkly. Agreeing with him, Hee-wook also quietly nodded. Silence blanketed the study room. After a moment of staring straight ahead in silence, Eun-sung jabbed Hee-wook with his elbow.
“Shall we try recording?”
“Me first?”
“We’re going to shoot multiple times until we’re satisfied anyway. You go first, hyung.”
The chair had wheels, so when Eun-sung pushed the floor with his foot, it easily moved to the side. Hee-wook watched Eun-sung who was smoothly distancing himself, then shifted his gaze to the phone camera in front of him.
“Huuh.”
Even though he had stood in front of much larger and numerous cameras, his fingers were tingling with nervousness.
***
Ten days had passed since they submitted the video recorded in the study room to the audition side.
Hee-wook got on the subway with his hat pulled down tightly and his mask raised up to his nose. The afternoon subway was quiet. He immediately sat in an empty seat, checked the time on his phone, and casually lifted his eyes.
On the opposite side, children who seemed not yet to have entered elementary school were sitting side by side. It was both impressive and pitiful to see them quietly wearing their tiny masks. Hee-wook fiddled with the strap of the mask hanging on his ear.
How long would they have to wear masks? Until the end of this year? Next year? Or forever?
“Sigh…”
A sense of gloom about the future welled up. Certainly, as Eun-sung said, in the face of an ongoing situation without any promise of change, they couldn’t do nothing. Time would pass, they would grow older, and people would quickly turn their eyes to new diversions.
With a troubled mind, he clenched and unclenched his fist. The feeling of nothing in his hand was suddenly unpleasant. It was at that very moment when Hee-wook pulled out his phone from his pocket again.
A text message had arrived.
[(Web Sent) Waffle Original Drama Series 1st Audition – Rejection Notification. Thank you for your application.]
He read the short content twice with his eyes. Quietly, he lowered his phone. The back of his hand thumped against his knee.
‘It was impossible, anyway.’
He didn’t expect to pass, but his heart still sank. Hee-wook, who had been blankly staring at the subway floor, hurriedly got up at the announcement of a familiar station name.
‘I didn’t prepare properly, it’s natural that I didn’t succeed.’
He muttered to himself continuously to escape from the disappointment.
Today was the day he was supposed to meet Eun-sung and Jae Gyu, members of Two Planet. Hee-wook headed to a dakgalbi restaurant located close to the station exit. The members had already arrived and secured a corner seat. As Hee-wook entered, the members waved their hands in welcome.
“Cheers!”
Each held up a soju glass and clinked them above the sizzling dakgalbi. The clear sound rang out. Hee-wook took a sip of the alcohol and put down his glass. He caught sight of Eun-sung pouring the soju into his mouth.
Eun-sung put down his empty glass on the table.
“Me.”
At Eun-sung’s words, everyone focused their gaze on him. He nodded his head with a solemn expression.
“I made it.”
Hee-wook flinched. Jae Gyu responded immediately.
“Huh? The drama audition?”
“Yeah, just before coming here, I received a text saying I passed the first round. The second round will be a video meeting.”
Eun-sung, who spoke quickly in a somewhat rigid tone, glanced at Hee-wook. Faced with a gaze mixed with anxiety and curiosity, Hee-wook lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Congratulations. I didn’t make it. I guess acting is definitely not my calling.”
“Ah, is that so. Your talent is singing! You’re our main vocal.”
Jae Gyu, with his good-natured laugh, patted Hee-wook on the back. Eun-sung, who had inwardly thought they would both pass the first round, widened his eyes in surprise.
Hee-wook had thought the same. He had hoped to easily pass the first audition. No matter if he had served in the military, he had once been a group leader who was active. He was an idol. He had thought he would make it through the first round.
“But don’t give up completely, try again next time.”
Eun-sung spoke quietly. Hee-wook nodded his head.
“I will.”
He knew Eun-sung was right. In his current situation, he had to try something, even if it wasn’t acting. He had to do something.
Jae Gyu, who was munching on the cooked dakgalbi, gestured towards Eun-sung.
“Hey, hey. If the first is a video submission and the second is a video call… What about the final? Is it face-to-face then?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Ha, it’s as hard as catching a star in the sky to even see the audition judges.”
Jae Gyu drained his alcohol. He let out a deep sigh and then picked up his chopsticks, tapping the rim of his own glass. The eyes of both Eun-sung and Hee-wook turned to Jae Gyu.
“No, I mean, listening to friends, these days fan meetings are all done by video call. At first, I wondered if that would work, if people would spend money on that. But it sells surprisingly well.”
“That’s probably because that’s the only thing fans can see.”
Eun-sung, who was folding his arms, responded and then quickly added.
“It must be convenient. More so than offline fan meetings.”
“They do it casually in places like cafes or practice rooms, right? No performances. A one or two-minute call per fan and it’s over.”
Whenever Two Planet held a fan signing event, they always performed a title track or a song from their album at the end. Listening to Jae Gyu’s chatter about the seemingly unbeneficial recent trend, Hee-wook narrowed his eyebrows.
“Since it’s a video call, fans can’t even resist moving on to the next member. When the time comes, the staff would just cut it off.”
“Idols these days are reaping benefits in many ways. It would have been nice if we had tried that before disbanding.”
“Exactly. They even hold concerts online. The cost-effectiveness is a jackpot.”
Jae Gyu and Eun-sung spoke lightly. Hee-wook tilted his glass to his lips. A culture of idols who communicate solely through mobile phones or computer screens, with completely empty audiences. He took a sip of his drink and set down the glass.
“But it would be better to see them in person.”
Jae Gyu quickly turned to Hee-wook, who spoke softly.
“From the fans’ perspective?”
“From the idols’ perspective too.”
Hee-wook had continuously stood on stage in his dreams. A packed audience, cheer sticks waving in unison, passionate cheers, fans’ eyes that seemed to contain starlight.
“It hits you in your skin. People who like me actually exist in reality…”
Especially when a fan who came to the fan meeting confessed that they liked him the most, it filled him with a feeling different from the performances. He was happy to realize that he was a person who could be loved and was being loved.
While he would certainly feel the support and sincerity through video calls, he thought it would be even better when he faced the fans in person. While he was honestly pouring out his heart with his eyes cast down, his younger brothers were quiet. When he raised his head, he met eyes with Jae Gyu. Jae Gyu awkwardly smiled and picked up a bottle of soju.
“Despite being chic, Hee-wook hyung is surprisingly sentimental.”
“What’s new. Try being warm to others as well as your fans. Hee-wook hyung is not shy only around his fans.”
Eun-sung also added a comment. Hee-wook awkwardly raised his empty glass.
“What did I do.”
Soju refilled his glass. The alcohol was going down faster than usual.
＊＊＊
“Ah, I’m going to die.”
He thought he was not drunk, but suddenly the alcohol hit him in the subway, and his head started spinning. He didn’t know how he had made it home. His arms and legs seemed to ache.
‘You didn’t crawl here on your own, did you?’
Hee-wook painfully took off his shoes and went inside. The house was empty. His family had mentioned they would be spending the night at their grandparents’ place. Hee-wook hadn’t gone with them due to prior commitments.
He took off his mask first and then headed straight to the bathroom. He didn’t have the energy to shower, so he just washed his hands and face, then stumbled into his room and collapsed onto the bed.
“I should shower…”
He didn’t even have the energy to turn on the lights. Hee-wook fumbled for the light switch on the wall in the dark room. But then his fingers caught something soft. Wondering what it was, he cautiously opened his eyes.
It was a ribbon. Colorful ribbons that he had neatly arranged on the wall shelf. Despite the darkness, he recognized the familiar shapes in his field of vision. Hee-wook looked at the ribbons, their colors dulled in the darkness, then got up to turn on the lights.
During his promotional activities for music broadcasts, fans often sent him lunchboxes as support. He also kept the letters and notes he received separately, but he also couldn’t bear to throw away the ribbons that packaged the lunchboxes, so he started collecting them one by one.
When the promotional period ended, he brought the ribbons he had collected home and tied them like this. He didn’t have the skills to make them as pretty as they were at first, but it still looked decent when he tied several together.
He carefully reached out to touch the ribbons. He wondered how the people who used to send him these lunchboxes were doing, and whether they still had interest in him.
He didn’t know about the former, but the latter never led to a positive imagination. He felt nauseous. It didn’t seem to be because of the alcohol.
Feeling a tightness in his throat, he headed straight to the kitchen to drink some cold water. As he turned around with a glass of water, something left alone on the dining table caught his eye. It was a magazine his younger brother subscribed to.
On the cover was a handsome man in a white shirt and jeans, staring straight ahead. Recognizing the familiar face, Hee-wook picked up the magazine.
“Cheon Kyung Seo…”
‘Finally an adult! The most anticipated person of the year that everyone has been waiting for, always keeps in his heart, the mind that doesn’t give up!’ This phrase was written alongside the three letters of the name ‘Cheon Kyung Seo’. Hee-wook stared at Kyung Seo’s face and let out a hollow laugh.
“Is he really twenty? If Eun-sung passes… He would look younger.”
His face was too decadent for someone who was a minor just last year. He thought about the famous beauties in the entertainment industry. Usually, the ones with striking features looked mature when they were young and youthful as they aged. He figured Cheon Kyung Seo would be the same.
Twenty years old. Superstar Cheon Kyung Seo who was just now turning twenty.
“So bright.”
He was jealous. Annoyed, he tossed the magazine aside. Hee-wook put the cup down in the sink and went to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror looked particularly haggard that day.
In stark contrast to the glowing twenty-year-old actor.
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