Free Web NovelYoomyeong started walking without any hesitation while the other students watched, wide-eyed.
Rummaging through the worn equipment bag placed on a seat, he saw several black metal plates engraved with droplet, leaf, and window patterns.
He took out the one labeled number 43, returned to the stage, and checked the position of the number 14 lighting fixture on the light plot (a stage lighting map).
It was an ellipsoidal fixture hung on the very first line, its head angled toward the background.
He smoothly slid the gobo into the slot in the head of the fixture.
The lighting technician nodded.
“I’m Kim Sung-jin, the lighting technician. And you, student?”
“I’m Shin Yoomyeong from Gwanak University, class of ’00. We’ll be working together for a short while, so feel free to speak comfortably, brother.”
Sung-jin chuckled lightly at Yoomyeong’s easygoing greeting.
“Okay. Let’s work hard until a replacement is found.”
Behind them, the assistant director let out a sigh of relief.
Thunk—
As Sung-jin hung the fixture, Yoomyeong quickly came to his side to secure the wire to the bar.
Just as the tape he was using seemed about to run out, Yoomyeong handed him a new roll at exactly the right moment.
When a fixture didn’t turn on, Yoomyeong had already gone to fetch a replacement before being told to.
As time passed, Sung-jin grew increasingly impressed. The boy was quick-witted and sharp.
“Did you do any part-time work in electrical engineering?”
“No. I just have a bit of interest in this field.”
Yoomyeong chuckled as he brushed it off.
Having spent 15 years in a theater troupe struggling with chronic deficits, he had picked up various skills. Handling lighting fixtures was one of them.
He couldn’t compare to a professional technician, but he was capable of basic tasks such as hanging, securing, and organizing cables.
The upper stage setup was roughly finished.
“Do you know how to operate the console?”
Console – a master device that controls all lighting fixtures in the theater.
“I know how to turn it on and off.”
“Go to the control box and raise the numbers I call out.”
“Yes!”
Yoomyeong rushed to the control box at the back of the seating area.
In this space, where lighting and sound were controlled during performances, there were many devices. Finding the lighting console among them, Yoomyeong adjusted the faders (levers that control light intensity) according to the instructions coming through the walkie-talkie.
“Numbers 3, 9, and 12, full!”
He pushed the faders for 3, 9, and 12 all the way up. Only the center of the stage, which had been dark for testing, lit up dramatically.
“Turn them off, then bring them up one by one.”
As he raised them individually, Sung-jin held the light plot and carefully checked the brightness and angles.
“Set number 3 to 76, and numbers 9 and 12 to 30.”
“Set number 12 to 35.”
“Okay. Turn everything off, and this time raise numbers 27 and 28.”
The lights falling on the empty stage were fascinating.
Yellow, blue, and red lights, separate at first, merged into a single light, shaping the atmosphere of the stage.
Even when illuminating the same space, light from above made it intense, while light from behind made it feel ethereal.
When lighting the same space, adding a bit of blue made it gloomy, while adding more made it eerie.
And as expected of a technician from Hyejeondang, his skills were genuine.
“Let’s go back down and adjust the angles.”
“Yes!”
Their work continued late into the night.
Yoomyeong sat across from Sung-jin. The draft beer they drank after hours of breathing in dust at the theater tasted especially good.
“You work well. You were better than most assistant technicians.”
“I learned a lot from you. Watching a professional like you work is almost like watching art. It’s really cool.” freёwebnoѵel.com
He was sincere.
Yoomyeong had met countless resident and contract technicians while working in theater, but he had never seen anyone produce such high-quality work in such a short time like Sung-jin.
After thinking for a moment, Sung-jin spoke as if he had made up his mind.
“Do you want to work under me after you graduate?”
“...Pardon?”
Sung-jin was currently the youngest lighting technician at Hyejeondang, the best theater in Korea.
Being part of the lighting team there, with its top-tier conditions, was like reaching for a star. Openings appeared only once every few years, drawing experienced professionals and even overseas doctoral graduates.
However, Sung-jin believed that sense mattered more than experience. Knowledge could always be taught.
“If you come learn under me during your vacations and make a good impression on the seniors, you should be able to get hired without much trouble by the time you graduate. The theater scene still values connections above all.”
Of course, this misunderstanding arose because Sung-jin had taken Yoomyeong’s casual remark about having an “interest” at face value.
Yoomyeong broke into a cold sweat. If handled poorly, Sung-jin’s excessive favor could make things awkward.
He decided to address it directly.
“Brother, I’m really grateful that you think so highly of me! I know this is an opportunity others would bow for. But I have a different dream.”
“What is it?”
“A leading actor who can stand on the stage of Hyejeondang.”
Sung-jin coughed in surprise.
‘So he wants to be an actor. But what’s with the ambition of this amateur who hasn’t even debuted yet...?’
A leading actor who could stand on the stage of Hyejeondang.
That was the kind of ambition usually spoken of only after becoming a lead actor in a prestigious troupe.
Moreover, the large Sujeondang hall of Hyejeondang, with 3,500 seats, was not even something people dared to mention. It was mainly used for operas and concerts.
Yet somehow, it didn’t sound ridiculous coming from him.
Was it because his innocence was endearing, or because his gaze was serious?
“How do you know about stage lighting if you want to be an actor? Did you study it separately?”
“Yes. I believe understanding stage lighting is essential to becoming a good actor.”
“Why is that?”
“Isn’t stage lighting what encompasses all dramatic elements like acting, stage, and sound, and sets the atmosphere? Actually, I’d like to understand everything related to theater, not just lighting.”
This was something Yoomyeong had always believed.
He felt that understanding the other components of a production helped improve acting.
He couldn’t say that he had learned these things simply because he had minor roles and a lot of spare time.
‘This kid...’
Sung-jin was slightly moved.
It was rare to find actors who paid attention to the many people and systems behind the dazzling stage. It was already a relief if they simply showed appreciation.
To meet someone who understood the value of theatrical lighting—the craft he had dedicated his life to...
“Do you want to tour Hyejeondang?”
At Sung-jin’s offer, Yoomyeong cheered inwardly and nodded vigorously.
This was what he had been aiming for from the beginning.
Cheol-joo briefly called Yoomyeong aside before practice.
“Yes, senior?”
“I heard you helped out during the tour yesterday?”
His words sounded like praise, but his tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
“I helped a little because they seemed to be in trouble.”
“Yoomyeong.”
Suddenly, Cheol-joo spoke in a friendly tone.
“I know you’re talented and hardworking, and I understand you helped with good intentions this time. So many seniors, including me, have high expectations of you.”
“...”
“But in the real world, people will envy you if you stand out too much. It’s better to be slightly better than others, not overwhelmingly so. That way, you won’t make enemies and can rise smoothly.”
Was that really true?
The old Yoomyeong might have agreed.
But could a peak reached by adjusting oneself to others truly be the real peak?
If someone steadily climbed without pushing themselves and reached the top of Mount Halla, wouldn’t the one who ran, fell, and strengthened their lungs be looking down from the peak of Mount Everest?
Yoomyeong hadn’t done anything to stand out. He had simply done his best in the situation he was given.
I was miraculously given another chance. I don’t want to waste it. I will create as many opportunities as possible and push my potential beyond its limits.
However...
There was no need to convince someone who meant nothing to him.
“Yes. Thank you for the advice, senior.”
“I’m not saying you did anything wrong. I just said it because you remind me of myself.”
The words were meant as a compliment, but Yoomyeong smiled bitterly.
He was probably right to ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) be concerned.
However, people saw the world differently.
“Where did this laborer come from? Out of nowhere—”
“Should we load him onto a shrimp boat, boss?”
The underlings of President Nam in <Ambitious Dream> hounded Kim Cheolsu, who was on his knees.
“Joo Seon-Ho. You need to deliver your lines more viciously!”
“All beginners are like that, Hansang. Make sure you train Seon-Ho properly.”
“Yes, senior!”
Park Hansang, who played Underling 1, was the leader of this group. He moved to the next classroom with Underlings 2 and 3.
“Seon-Ho, hey. Act like a man! Can’t you show some spirit, like ‘I’m going to beat that guy up’?”
“I’m sorry...”
“I know you’re trying, but your acting needs to feel more... naturally immersed, you know? Watch me and take notes.”
“...Yes, I’ll try harder.”
Joo Seon-Ho, an economics major from the class of ’02.
With a romantic vision of a university drama club, he had joined Changcheon as soon as he entered university.
In his sophomore year, he made his first attempt at acting. When he managed to secure a role in the highly competitive casting, he was overjoyed.
But now, no matter how much he thought about it, it felt like he had been miscast.
He was 165 cm tall, with a slim build and soft facial features.
Yet the role he had received was Underling 2 of President Nam—a small- to mid-sized entertainment agency boss, essentially a bully.
No matter how much he tried to sound threatening with his thin voice, it only came across as comical.
He tried lowering his voice or making it hoarse, but all he got in response was, “Did you catch a cold, Seon-Ho?”
“Seon-Ho, come see me.”
Another senior called him over.
“Do you know how many people wanted your role? If you don’t do well, you’re letting down the people who were rejected because of you.”
“...Yes, I’ll do my best.”
The senior left with a displeased expression, clicking his tongue. Seon-Ho’s eyes welled up with tears.
‘Hah, should I just give up the role...?’
That day’s practice ended on a gloomy note.
Seon-Ho, the youngest among the cast, cleaned the practice room until the very end and found a script lying on the floor.
‘Oh, this is senior Yoomyeong’s script...’
Shin Yoomyeong.
A senior who, unlike himself, was showing incredible acting in his very first performance. With a cool presence and overwhelming skill, Yoomyeong was someone Seon-Ho admired deeply—someone far beyond his reach.
It was hard to believe that this person had once been considered ordinary in his first year.
‘Should I... take a quick look?’
He couldn’t forget the constantly shifting expressions on that senior’s face when performing <Joy>. He couldn’t forget the stunned looks on the seniors’ faces, especially the assistant director’s.
He had secretly dreamed of receiving such admiration.
But in reality, he was always the youngest, always being scolded.
What would the script of such an actor look like...?
‘It’s messy.’
It was a heavily worn script.
As he carefully examined the tiny notes filling the margins and even the back of the pages—
Creak—
The door opened.
Seon-Ho froze as he looked up.
“...”
An indifferent gaze looked down at him.
Yoomyeong’s expression clearly said, ‘I know what you did.’
“I-I-I’m sorry! I was just curious, so I read a little...”
“Oh? That happens. Why are you so flustered?”
Yoomyeong spoke as if it didn’t matter.
He always gave off an intimidating aura, but his tone was unexpectedly gentle.
Encouraged, Seon-Ho squeezed his eyes shut and blurted out,
“Senior! Could you help me?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t think this role suits me at all. I’m even thinking of quitting...”
Yoomyeong looked at him. It was the junior who had been criticized every day lately.
Yoomyeong had been paying quite a bit of attention to him. Actually, not just to him—
But to his role.
‘I owe that role.’
The role of Underling 2 was one Yoomyeong himself had played in his previous life.
At the time, he had been a complete beginner. Though he tried hard, he hadn’t been able to perform it properly.
Yoomyeong thought it would be satisfying if this guy could at least do the role justice.
He checked the time.
“Where do you live?”
“What? Ah, I’m staying at a boarding house.”
“You can come home a bit late, right? Want to go watch a movie with me?”
“Pardon?”
Shortly after, the two arrived at a movie theater near campus.
The ticket Yoomyeong bought was for <Memories of Murder>, released in April 2003—a film that left a huge mark on Korean cinema.
