By Zephyria “May I ask for a free improvisation? Whatever the actor… wishes for is fine.”
He wished they had just told him what to do specifically.
“What are you hesitating for? Just do anything.”
CEO Myeong, who offered no help, merely hushed his voice and barked.
Choi Hong-seo received Director Kang’s permission and brought a chair from the table behind. He placed it opposite the man in the honored seat, then took off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. He loosened his bow tie and laid it on top, then unbuttoned his shirt a couple of times. Ahem, he cleared his throat and folded his right hand’s fingers one by one. One, two, three, four… five.
“How could this happen! Falling asleep in the dressing room, you wretched fool!”
The old man’s self-deprecating voice burst from Choi Hong-seo’s lips. It wasn’t an exaggerated voice trying too hard to imitate an old man, but a performance that naturally captured the character’s traits through his tone and actions.
“The performance ended long ago, and everyone has left the theater… and you’re sleeping soundly, snoring away? You old geezer! You useless old dog!”
It was the opening scene of Anton Chekhov’s
“Yegorka, damn you! Petrushka! You devils, you’re all asleep. A hundred devils and one witch are breathing down your throats, Yegorka!”
Choi Hong-seo’s steps as he walked towards the chair where his jacket and bow tie were draped were subtly limping. Like an old man whose body was heavy as lead, whose thighs and knees wouldn’t obey, he creaked and slumped onto the chair.
With his eyes narrowed as if searching for something in a fog, and his chin jutting forward, Choi Hong-seo muttered with lament.
“I can’t hear anything… only echoes… I can’t see anything…”
With his eyes half-open, gazing into the distant void, Choi Hong-seo continued his lines.
“Oh, but I can see the prompter’s box a little… Yes, this is the special box indicated by letters, and, well, this is the music score… I can’t see anything else! It’s as dark as a tomb where death itself is hidden, a bottomless pit! Oh, I’ll freeze to death!”
After delivering Svyetlovidov’s monologue, which filled the entire first act of
“Yegorka! Petrushka! Where are you, you devils! Oh, God! Filthy words and drunken faces, such ridiculous clown costumes! I can’t stand the sight of it! I must go and change. I feel so sordid!”
Choi Hong-seo, who had been acting without any regard for the others in the drawing room, suddenly looked at each of them slowly, one by one. It was an impromptu judgment rather than intentional.
After surveying CEO Myeong, Director Kang, Chairman Jo, some chairman… and finally the man in the honored seat, Choi Hong-seo shook his head and muttered.
“If I spend the night here like this… I might die…”
Then, limping as he had when he sat down, he turned away from them and walked off.
After taking a few steps, Choi Hong-seo quickly returned to his original spot with normal speed and bowed his head. No applause or praise erupted.
But within Choi Hong-seo, emotions surged.
Because this was not… a ‘trick’ or a ‘product introduction.’
It was an audition, a small performance to prove his talent in front of these people. Even if this was also a self-proof to be chosen, this was undeniably an interview or an audition. It was different from ‘the choice.’
In front of these wealthy and powerful VIPs, instead of being arbitrarily toyed with and ignored, he had proven the talent he had honed. That fact made Choi Hong-seo feel a sudden warmth.
The man in the honored seat, facing Choi Hong-seo directly, did not react quickly. Yet, he didn’t seem indifferent. He kept eye contact with Choi Hong-seo.
“Do you often read Chekhov?”
That was the man’s first question.
“To be honest, no… It’s embarrassing, but I don’t read many books. The scene just now was one I practiced with my acting teacher.”
“I see… Then, is there a particular reason you chose that scene?”
“I learned on set that diligence is as important a value as acting ability. I may lack outstanding acting skills, but I am confident in my diligence. Especially for the role of Hwang Ji-woo, I know there are many long, academic lines and difficult scenes. So… I wanted to show that I am prepared to diligently commit to being able to smoothly handle even such a long monologue.”
“Diligence…”
The man repeated and mulled over Choi Hong-seo’s words, as if surprised that he was emphasizing diligence over acting ability.
“You don’t need to answer in such a stiff tone. I watched it well. You worked hard.”
Whether it was his imagination or not, the man’s demeanor and expression seemed to have softened. He hadn’t been sharp towards Choi Hong-seo from the start, though.
“I think this is enough. Does anyone else have any more questions?”
The man said, looking around. However, Chairman Jo and the woman next to him merely emptied their glasses with disinterested expressions. They seemed displeased with the man who had disrupted the party’s mood, but the man seemed unconcerned.
“It would be awkward to discuss investment matters in front of the actor, so let’s let him go first.”
“You want to let him go first?”
Chairman Jo, who had been drinking listlessly, jumped at the man’s words.
The man slowly turned towards Chairman Jo with a look of “What’s the problem?”
“You said you had no more questions.”
“No, that’s…”
“If you have any questions, please state them.”
“……”
Shouldn’t we pour him drinks, or try to appease him? People like that should be licking our toes if they want our investment.
Chairman Jo couldn’t bring himself to say that, and instead glared at CEO Myeong and Choi Hong-seo. He seemed to lack the courage to glare at the man in the honored seat.
Hmm… The man let out a sigh as if he had made up his mind, and looked at Choi Hong-seo once more.
“I enjoyed your performance. You may leave now.”
“Ah, yes…”
“I hope this deal goes through and we can meet again, Choi Hong-seo.”
“Yes, thank you.”
As he left the drawing room with CEO Myeong, who was bowing so low his forehead almost touched the floor and fawning, Choi Hong-seo thought, At least he called my name correctly at the end.
Looking back before the door closed, the man sat like a painting in a frame, watching them.
■
After leaving the drawing room, CEO Myeong and Choi Hong-seo descended the stairs in silence.
CEO Myeong’s back, as he led the way, looked very displeased.
“Fuck… I wanted to have a drink, but what’s that guy doing hanging around there?”
CEO Myeong, who had been heading straight for the garden bar, stopped, muttered a curse, and changed direction.
He saw Jeong Ji-in sitting on a high stool in front of the bar. Where had the senior actor who had taken Jeong Ji-in out of the drawing room gone, and who was he talking to, this handsome man?
Following CEO Myeong’s change of direction, Choi Hong-seo walked towards the bar set up in the living room. CEO Myeong asked for a shot of hard liquor and moved to a less crowded spot. Choi Hong-seo grabbed a bottle of water.
In a corner of the living room, CEO Myeong slumped onto a small sofa set for two.
“Haa… Lee Hae-sung, that son of a bitch.”
CEO Myeong, having emptied more than half the glass of liquor in one gulp, started spewing curses. He fumbled at his chest for his cigarette case and continued to curse someone even with the filter in his mouth.
“It was a chance to win over Chairman Jo, but because of that dog. Ah, fuck, is he going to fund it all himself?”
He seemed quite heated, as he fumbled several times without properly lighting his cigarette.
Regardless of CEO Myeong’s mood, Choi Hong-seo felt like he could breathe again after leaving that place and getting some fresh air.
“So, today… there’s no entertainment?”
“That’s what I’m saying. What’s going on?”
Taking another deep drag of his cigarette, CEO Myeong ran his hand through his neatly styled hair, messing it up.
“Who was that person earlier?”
“Who? The guy who ruined today’s business?”