Free Web NovelAssigned acting.
Two scenes from the script had been assigned in advance.
Ahem— ahem—
Off to the side, Kwon Sunghan cleared his throat.
Since it was a competition, it had been decided that both performances would take place in front of everyone so the results could be fully understood and accepted.
Meanwhile, someone who appeared to be an employee of the film company entered and adjusted the seating arrangement.
The performer stood in the center of the room, while the actors watching sat in the back. Chairs for the directors were placed to the side, and an employee sat next to Seryeon and ‘Uncle.’
The attendee didn’t seem to hold any influence over the outcome of the competition; he looked more like someone present to facilitate the proceedings.
“Scene 8, the encounter between Yoon Hwaran and Phantom, and Scene 75, where Phantom harshly scolds Hwaran. We’ll go through both scenes consecutively. I’ll read Hwaran’s lines.”
A female staff member with tightly tied-back hair proceeded efficiently.
Yoomyeong had spent most of his preparation time working on these two scenes with Director Ki.
These scenes showcased Phantom’s two sides — the pure and gentle side that led Yoon Hwaran to mistake him for an angel of ballet, and the wild temperament that surfaced whenever she seemed to drift away from ballet. It also echoed the duality of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that had fascinated Director Ki.
“I’ll go first!”
Kwon Sunghan volunteered immediately, as though trying to earn points, and Seryeon nodded indifferently.
He stepped into the center, cracked his neck, and prepared himself. Scene 8 proceeded as follows:
[In a dark practice room, Hwaran, who had stayed late practicing and fallen asleep, wakes up and rushes outside into the darkness. The exit is locked, and in her disoriented state, she searches for another way out but loses her way. Before long, she finds herself in the ballet theater connected to the practice building.
The tutus and stage props are eerily illuminated in the darkness, and she panics, letting out a scream. At that moment, a beam of moonlight falls through the ceiling window, and a masked man appears.]
“Child, are you lost?”
“Who... are you?”
“Ah, you’re one of the children performing the Swan Dance. What was your name again?”
“...It’s Yoon Hwaran.”
“Well, since fate has brought us together like this, I’ll tell you something.”
“Yes?”
“After Swan Lake, the next performance will be Giselle.”
“...What?! How do you know that?”
“Haha... I have my ways.”
[Yoon Hwaran first assumed he must be someone important within the theater company. Wearing a mask was certainly unusual, but how else would he know that the next performance was ‘Giselle’ unless he was connected to the company?
Knowing in advance, she felt she ought to start practicing for ‘Giselle.’ Maybe she might even be considered for a role. Thinking that, she clasped her hands tightly together.]
[However, precisely at midnight, white moonlight poured down from the ceiling like a spotlight, forming a brightly lit stage. As though the air itself were playing music, a soft melody began to fill the space. And then the man began to dance. Watching him dance, Yoon Hwaran became convinced that he was an angel of ballet. His ballet was so beautiful it seemed impossible for a human being to achieve. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
As the brief solo dance comes to an end, she asks as though entranced.]
“Are you... the angel of ballet?”
“Hmm...? If that’s what you believe, then perhaps. Would you like to dance with me?”
It was an unusual setup.
The script described the female protagonist’s emotions in a way that almost resembled stage direction. Since the writer overseeing the revisions already knew Yoon Seryeon would be acting the role herself, that aspect had been left untouched. As a result, the screenplay deeply immersed the reader in the female protagonist’s perspective.
But the Phantom...
From the Phantom’s point of view, how did she appear?
Yoomyeong lost himself in that thought. The performance Kwon Sunghan was currently giving no longer mattered to him. What mattered now was the performance he himself needed to deliver.
Kwon Sunghan finished both Scene 8 and Scene 75.
Clap clap clap—
As polite applause followed, Seryeon lazily scribbled on the evaluation sheet.
‘I didn’t expect the Phantom I imagined to appear exactly as I pictured him, but...’
It felt crude.
At the beginning of the script, Phantom’s tone carried the air of a superior looking down on a child.
Her concern that it might come across as overly sentimental had proven true. Seryeon suddenly lost much of her enthusiasm. Although she had written the script passionately, she had never intended to produce it.
The only reason it was being produced at all... was because her father had strongly pressured her to do something, anything, after seeing her show no passion for anything over the past two years.
“Ugh... This is annoying.”
Then the actor who had frowned at her earlier stepped forward.
The staff member once again read the opening of the script.
“At that moment, a beam of moonlight falls through the ceiling window, and a masked man appears.”
And then,
“Child, are you lost?”
An angel appeared.
If he could reproduce the angelic Jekyll he had shown during the Saturday afternoon performance, Director Ki believed they had a strong chance of success.
But Yoomyeong had said,
“Director, in my opinion... the Phantom in Scene 8 should be pure, but with occasional traces of malice.”
“That would be great if it works, but is it possible? If it isn’t subtle enough, he might just come across as a villain. In this scene, the Phantom has to convincingly appear good to both the female lead and the audience. Otherwise the later twist won’t work...”
“That’s why I’m thinking of slipping it in very subtly, only on certain words. Like this...”
Yoomyeong extended his hand downward, mimicking the motion of helping up a fallen Hwaran, and delivered the line.
“Ah, you’re one of the children performing the Swan Dance. What was your name again?”
Do-han felt a chill crawl up his spine.
It was incredibly subtle. The tone itself was undeniably warm and gentle.
But what was that faint undertone hidden beneath it?
“Is it in the ‘What was your’?”
“Yes, you caught it immediately.”
“Hmm... The overall tone of the sentence is bright, so it doesn’t immediately raise suspicion, but slipping something unsettling into just one word makes it feel subtly disturbing. It’s a unique approach. I didn’t know you could express it that way...”
A particular atmosphere had been created through a single word alone.
Even with all his experience across numerous productions, it was a concept Do-han had never encountered before. Fascinated, he continued asking questions.
“Why specifically place it in ‘What was?’”
“Because the Phantom already knew Hwaran’s name.”
“...?!”
“In the story, the encounter is portrayed as a chance meeting with no further explanation, but I don’t think it actually was. He’s someone who hides within the ballet company and obsessively watches everything related [N O V E L I G H T] to ballet. It wouldn’t be strange if he had memorized the names of all the dancers. Maybe this meeting wasn’t accidental at all.”
“...That’s very possible. Hmm...”
Ki Do-han seemed struck by sudden inspiration and hurriedly wrote a note in the script.
“But how do you express that hint of malice through just one word? It sounds incredibly difficult.”
“Oh, I adapted the technique of internal dialogue.”
“Internal dialogue?”
Internal dialogue.
It was usually used during reaction scenes, where actors internally recited thoughts even when they had no spoken lines. It helped make reactions feel more alive.
For example, if an unpleasant person kept bragging endlessly, silently thinking, ‘Here they go bragging again. Don’t they ever get tired?’ could naturally produce a bored expression.
But how was it being used here...?
“Yes. I maintained the angelic tone, but during the line ‘What was your name again—’ I internally repeated the line ‘Hello, Yoon Hwaran.’”
Do-han’s jaw dropped open. It was a method he had never heard of before.
He had assumed Yoomyeong was an intuitive prodigy because of how short his acting career was, but this explanation was built on such a deep theoretical foundation.
Suddenly, he felt afraid that he might have discovered an extraordinary monster.
“Um... Shall we hear the other lines?”
“Child, are you lost?”
“Ah, you’re one of the children performing the Swan Dance. What was your name again?”
“Well, since fate has brought us together like this, I’ll tell you something.”
“After Swan Lake, the next performance will be Giselle.”
In every sentence, only a single word carried that subtle undertone.
He could recognize it because he was an expert, but ordinary viewers would only realize it later and think, ‘Ah... so that was a hint.’
Watching the performance, Ki Do-han realized how fortunate he had been with this casting choice.
And now,
Listening to the voice and watching the acting, Yoon Seryeon felt dizzy.
It truly felt as though an angel had descended from heaven.
An angel who seemed strong, warm, and benevolent — exactly the kind of angel Hwaran would have wished to be chosen by in ballet.
It was also the god of ballet that Yoon Seryeon herself had imagined.
But soon afterward, the tone shifted completely.
In Scene 75.
“Yes, with Soobin, who plays Albrecht.”
“What kind of timing is this...?!”
“Why? Giselle loves Albrecht, doesn’t she? It’ll help with the emotional lines.”
“How foolish...!”
The Phantom paced restlessly back and forth.
He grabbed Hwaran by the shoulders and shook her.
“Hwaran, I can’t even remember since when... but for as long as I can remember, I’ve lived in this ballet theater. I’ve seen countless ballerinas, and while most only danced corps de ballet and disappeared, a few possessed truly brilliant talent. What prevented most of them from making the leap as artists was love, relationships, and marriage.”
His words carried both criticism and desperate pleading.
“Your Giselle is entering its final stage now. Loving Albrecht? Fine. Isn’t unrequited love the very essence of Giselle? Stop there. Don’t disappoint me.”
Seryeon abruptly straightened in her chair.
Yes, this was him.
That desperate obsession with ballet. The image of a mentor and absolute authority persuading Hwaran.
This was the Phantom Seryeon had envisioned.
Her pen frantically scratched across the evaluation sheet.
Several circles were drawn around the name Shin Yoomyeong.
Meanwhile, Kwon Sunghan, watching from the side, was stunned.
“I’ll do the free acting portion now.”
When it was Sunghan’s turn for the free performance, he changed outfits.
Into a ballerino’s practice uniform.
“I’ll perform Albrecht from Giselle.”
After seeing Yoomyeong’s acting, Sunghan realized it would be impossible to compete through acting ability alone.
But perhaps a free performance might still give him a chance. He had earned a supporting role in his previous film because of his dancing, so maybe it could work again.
“Begin.”
Although Seryeon’s attention had already shifted strongly toward Yoomyeong, hearing that Sunghan had prepared Albrecht still sparked a bit of interest.
The central ballet motif of this script was ‘Giselle,’ and the fact that Phantom could encompass ballet performance was undeniably a strength.
Resting her chin against one hand, she focused intently on his ballet.
La~ La-la~
The music began to flow.
It was Albrecht filled with regret from Act 2.
To ordinary viewers — and even to Yoomyeong and the directors — the movements may have looked convincing. However...
‘What a mess. Starting from the en dehors, everything had collapsed.’
To Seryeon, it was far below standard.
Watching a ballet major dance without proper practice was unpleasant to someone from the same field.
Of course, merely understanding the positions would still help when compositing with a double. But...
‘That actor’s out.’
Neither the acting nor the ballet skills, which looked neglected for years, appealed to her at all.
‘What about this actor...?’
She suddenly became very curious about the free acting performance of the actor who had earlier delivered such an astonishing Phantom.
When his turn came, he chose an unexpected scene from the script.
“I’ll perform Scene 34.”
Scene 34.
Phantom teaching Hwaran, who was struggling with her interpretation of Giselle.
Most actors preferred using a stunt double for this scene because it required genuine ballet knowledge and technique, especially since Phantom personally demonstrated how the role should be performed.
Even the stunt doubles doubted how convincingly a male dancer could portray ‘Giselle.’
“Yoon Hwaran. Giselle in Acts 1 and 2 must feel completely different. Watch this.”
He slowly raised one arm.
‘Ah, the right arm to third position...’
The upper-body movement expressed through Port de Bras...
It was Giselle.
