Top Star By Luck [EN]: Chapter 11

Episode 11

Daon Entertainment Audition Hall.

The first thought that crossed Lee Min-ki’s mind as he arrived at the stage he had dreamed of for years was this:

‘I’m here.’

I’ve finally made it to this place.

Breathing this air, standing on my own two feet in this place, in this building.

Thump, thump.

The mere fact made his heart pound as if it would burst.

In his past life, he didn’t even get a chance to audition, failing at the document screening stage.

But this time, he was determined to get in no matter what, and the thought of making this building his home dominated his mind.

‘No, I absolutely will.’

Getting too excited is never good.

Lee Min-ki made an effort to take deep breaths and calm his excited breathing.

He went to the reception desk to submit his documents, and the staff soon handed him a number tag.

“Please attach the number tag to the outside of your clothes so it’s visible. If you go over there, there’s a waiting room. Please wait there until a staff member calls you.”

“Yes.”

Lee Min-ki cherished even the small number tag like a precious gift and attached it to his chest.

17 (Group 4).

A reasonably fast number.

He repeated the number in his mind and stood quietly in the waiting line that stretched outside the audition hall.

‘First of all, Seon-ah isn’t here.’

He searched every nook and cranny, but Yoo Seon-ah was nowhere to be found.

Could it be because her audition was scheduled for the evening, after lunch?

Unfortunately, their schedules didn’t overlap.

In a way, it was bad luck for her and good luck for Lee Min-ki.

This was because the success rate of auditions was generally better in the morning, as the judges were less fatigued.

‘Good luck.’

But looking at the hallway, it was too early to relax.

‘They definitely have strong visuals.’

The appearance of each person standing in the waiting room was striking.

There were few exceptionally handsome men. However, they all comfortably exceeded the average of ordinary people.

The average was top-tier.

Even if they were ugly, they weren’t just ugly.

They were uniquely ugly faces.

Faces that would be firmly etched in your memory like a nail sticking out of a wall.

Their faces themselves were weapons; such people were everywhere.

But Lee Min-ki knew.

‘Almost all of these people will fail.’

The fact that almost everyone in this place would fail.

“Huff, ha, huff, ha.”

The short-haired woman who was calming her mind with deep breaths.

Tuk, tuk, tuk, tuk.

The man who couldn’t hide his nervousness and was shaking his long legs.

“Yay.”

The handsome man who was taking selfies with the waiting room as a backdrop.

They would not only fail the audition but also fail to show any distinction in the industry in the future.

‘Besides, they said only two people passed this audition.’

Lee Min-ki remembered the specific number and the names of the successful candidates so clearly, as if he was very disappointed.

Nearly 1,000 applicants applied, and only two were accepted.

500:1.

This was the competition rate he had to overcome from now on.

‘As expected, it’s not an easy industry.’

The competition rate is too high.

In fact, Lee Min-ki had some confidence in his skills.

Although he was unknown, he had accumulated quantitatively different inputs and outputs from aspiring actors, as he had experienced the field.

But auditions aren’t just determined by skill.

They often consider innate qualities.

He did his best.

He prepared the gangster acting that the CEO preferred, and he refined the quality to the best of his ability.

Even if he failed.

‘No. Let’s not think about that.’

It’s a meaningless assumption.

Let’s just think about getting in now.

Rather, let’s review the prepared acting in my head to increase its precision.

It was at that moment that he had that thought.

“Haaah.”

In this waiting room, only one person let out a huge yawn.

‘Who is it?’

The moment he looked at the source of the overly conspicuous voice, Lee Min-ki’s eyes widened without him realizing it.

‘Kim Ji-hwan?’

Kim Ji-hwan.

He was someone Lee Min-ki remembered clearly by name and face.

Why?

‘He’s a successful candidate.’

Kim Ji-hwan, he was one of the two people who passed this audition.

In fact, there was another reason why Lee Min-ki was surprised.

16 (Group 4).

The number engraved on Kim Ji-hwan’s chest.

Only one number difference from Lee Min-ki’s 17 (Group 4).

What did that mean?

It meant that the two were in the same group.

‘My luck is terrible.’

Lee Min-ki’s mind was momentarily filled with shock.

He was happy to have passed the document screening and gotten an audition opportunity, but he ended up in the same group as the successful candidate.

Kim Ji-hwan, who broke through 500:1 to get in.

He remembers it well.

He was an actor who made a nonchalant expression his trademark, and although his acting skills didn’t particularly stand out in the professional scene, he was a rookie who didn’t get criticized.

But he was lucky with his projects, only taking on hit works.

Thanks to that, he was a figure who comfortably ranked among the top ten rookies in their 20s.

He might seem easygoing at first glance, but he was a figure who was far beyond Lee Min-ki’s reach in his past life.

‘Is this even possible?’

To be in the same group as him.

There’s no rule that says they can’t pick two people from one group. But if a talented person is in the same group, they’re bound to be compared.

The hope he had seen disappeared in an instant.

[Hahaha! Adios!]

But it wasn’t just a day or two that his mentality was weak.

Lee Min-ki quickly shook his head and regained his composure.

‘The competition rate isn’t important. Let’s remember what the teacher said.’

Kim Ah-seong had repeatedly emphasized to him.

[Usually, clueless aspirants always have a persecution complex, right? That they failed because the competition rate was high.]

[Isn’t that true?]

[No, it’s not. They just failed because they weren’t good enough. The judges don’t set a certain number of TOs (Table of Organization, meaning fixed slots) and pick people, but they try to pick as many good people as possible, but that’s all there are. I’ve been a judge a lot, so trust me.]

No matter what others do, you’ll be picked if you’re good.

As Kim Ah-seong’s indifferent face came to mind, the tension soon disappeared.

‘Okay, I didn’t come here to break through a 500:1 competition rate, but to be picked 1:1.’

Whether Kim Ji-hwan is there or not, I am me.

It was at that moment that he regained his composure.

“Group 4, come in.”

The staff shouted loudly.

Soon after, five people, including Lee Min-ki and Kim Ji-hwan, moved to the audition hall.

With trembling hearts.

* * *

What should I say about the audition hall that Lee Min-ki arrived at?

It was a more business-like space than he thought.

‘It’s just like a TOEIC [Test of English for International Communication] academy classroom.’

It was so ordinary that the ordinariness felt uncomfortable.

He would have felt more comfortable if there were lights pouring down like a concert hall.

Inside the audition hall, there was one staff member holding a camera.

And another staff member he didn’t know.

There were two judges.

Perhaps because their eyes were unusual, the other participants assigned to the same Group 4 looked very nervous.

Except for one person.

‘This person is still calm.’

Kim Ji-hwan.

He had a consistently nonchalant face.

So nonchalant that he looked sleepy.

Perhaps he was barely holding back a yawn because the judges were in front of him.

“We will now begin the audition.”

One of the judges, a man with a meticulous impression, adjusted his glasses and said.

“From number 16 to number 20, please come out one by one and perform. As notified in advance, the event is a 1 minute 30 second free performance, and after you are finished, please leave through the door you came in through.”

It starts from number 16.

In other words, Kim Ji-hwan was the first.

Next was Lee Min-ki.

‘Unfortunately, it’s right after him.’

It would be easy to be compared.

Before Lee Min-ki had time to shake off the burden, Kim Ji-hwan strode forward.

Lee Min-ki thought as he stood alone in front of the judges, still not feeling any nervousness.

‘What kind of acting will he show?’

That’s Kim Ji-hwan.

One of only two successful candidates in this audition.

Will he overwhelm the judges with rough but immersive acting, or will he show flawless and stable acting?

For a moment, anticipation raised its head before tension.

‘……Huh?’

Lee Min-ki had to doubt his eyes.

“I don’t know. Do whatever you want. I don’t know what the old guys think of me, but to be honest, I don’t care. I have my own way of working.”

The lines come out comfortably. There is still no sign of nervousness.

It’s not particularly bad either.

It was just that.

‘It’s too ordinary?’

Kim Ji-hwan’s acting was ordinary.

He had a feeling that he was attracting attention thanks to his innate visuals, but he didn’t get the feeling that he was very special.

He even gave off a nuance that he was doing it half-heartedly.

‘At this rate, Tak would be better.’

It’s a little better than Kim Tak.

He’s not bad, but he’s not noticeably good either.

That alone is great among aspiring actors, but it was too ambiguous to be a successful candidate who broke through 500:1.

“Yes, well done.”

“Thank you.”

Kim Ji-hwan finished his short performance, gave a brief greeting, and returned to his seat.

As if he had done everything he needed to do and had no regrets.

‘Something’s fishy.’

At this point, he was just confused in reverse.

Are they not looking at acting skills but something else?

The seeds of doubt sprouted, but there was no time to worry for long.

“Number 17, come out.”

It was his turn next.

‘Hoo.’

As soon as he heard the judge’s voice, Lee Min-ki quickly shook off his 잡념 [japnyum – idle thoughts] and stood in front.

There’s no point in thinking about anything else beyond this.

Kim Ah-seong’s trainer is right.

Lee Min-ki is Lee Min-ki, and other people are other people.

“You can start right away.”

“Yes.”

Shortly after.

Lee Min-ki carefully came forward, took a breath, and began acting.

“Do I look like a pushover to you?”

And.

Two of the judges in the audition hall and three of the participants had the same thought.

‘He’s so good?’

The atmosphere of the space changed in an instant.

* * *

One of the Daon Entertainment judges.

Director Kim Jong-hyeok let out a small cheer as soon as Lee Min-ki started acting.

‘He’s good.’

That was the first thought that came to mind when he saw Lee Min-ki’s acting.

‘This is enough.’

There was nothing to criticize about his acting skills.

He had already seen the acting of 200 people until the day before, but Lee Min-ki’s skills were by far the most outstanding among them.

“Even if you’re trash, there are things you shouldn’t touch. Money and women. But you touched both. You son of a bitch, do I look like your lackey now? You shouldn’t do that.”

The lines are strong.

But the strong lines ironically looked like 허세 [heose – bluff/false bravado].

It’s not because he’s weak. He elaborately refined everything from subtle intonation to gestures to create 허세.

‘Wow, if he knew this and did it, he’s really amazing.’

His arms and legs tremble slightly even as he speaks.

Even though he spits out plausible 허세 with his mouth, his body is honest.

He was scared.

The character Lee Min-ki was playing was a gangster who was scared and didn’t know what to do.

“Hit, hit me! See who really loses. Huh?!”

Who is he talking to?

Director Kim Jong-hyeok could instinctively tell.

‘There’s a muscular man standing in front of him.’

It was as if he could see the person he was acting with in front of Lee Min-ki.

‘A stoic personality with a rock-like appearance. A character that overwhelms people.’

It was a phenomenon that often appeared when watching the acting demonstrations of talented actors.

It felt like there was a person in the empty space in front of the actor.

It was also a quality that was particularly preferred these days, when green screen acting was becoming more important.

“I’ll let you off this time. Huh! There’s no soup next time. You 짜식아 [jjashik-ah – a rude term for ‘guy’ or ‘punk’]! I’ll 확 [hwak – suddenly/forcefully]! scoop out your eyes with a spoon. Huh?!”

찌질함 [jjijeolham – patheticness/shabbiness] flows out in droves.

Every gesture is annoying. It’s annoying but somehow friendly.

A human群像 [gunzo – a group portrait] that makes you stressed when they’re next to you and makes you wonder what they’re doing when they’re not next to you was overlaid on Lee Min-ki’s body.

It’s not just the personality.

It was as if he could even see the symbol of a 양아치 [yangachi – a low-level thug], 쫄쫄이츄리닝 [jjoljjolyi churing – tight-fitting tracksuit], over his clothes.

‘Amazing.’

Director Kim Jong-hyeok repeatedly admired.

On the other hand, he was disappointed.

‘If only the CEO was okay with it, I’d want to take him right away.’

There was a fundamental problem with this audition.

No matter how good the acting is, no matter how outstanding the talent is, it has to pass the CEO’s approval.

How many people have fallen into the hands of the CEO at the end so far?

These two are called judges, but even they can only give advice, and they are not the final decision-makers.

“I’m going to 확 [hwak – suddenly/forcefully]! bury you in this industry.”

By the time Lee Min-ki’s acting reached the end of 1 minute and 30 seconds.

Director Kim Jong-hyeok’s thought was this.

‘I want to see more.’