Chapter 877: You’ve waited a long time, haven’t you? (6)

“Bwahahahaha!”

The Seon Myeongju show our youngest just pulled off was a massive hit.

Director Kim Bora wiped tears from her eyes as she laughed, and the casting director was practically rolling over with laughter.

Only I remained sitting there with a dry, unimpressed expression.

“...Seriously.”

The youngest, who had been pretending to leave with one hand on the doorknob, grinned.

That confident look was annoyingly smug.

“Wooju hyung is pretending not to laugh, but I saw the corners of your mouth twitching.”

“A laugh of disbelief is still a laugh.”

“Come on. I know that’s not it.”

Jiho said with absolute certainty.

“You thought I was cute just now, didn’t you?”

Not even once.

Jiho launched into narration like an excited parrot.

“On the brink of a new and unfamiliar film project, a tense Seon Wooju is granted a miracle-like moment of rest—Wang Jiho! As he watches his youngest brother, who prepared a charming performance just for him, his eyes gradually soften...”

I let out a laugh in disbelief.

Still... it wasn’t entirely wrong.

The tension that had been tightening both me and the production team had eased a little.

I smiled and asked,

“So you came just to make us laugh? Even dressed like that?”

“No.”

Jiho replied boldly.

“I came to audition. For real.”

“You do know the role’s already been decided, right?”

“Yes.”

Jiho pointed toward the door.

“I met senior Lee Gyeonwoo earlier. He was high-fiving his manager.”

“Then why come anyway?”

“I wanted to show you. My acting.”

His expression said it was the most natural thing in the world.

It was filled with pure challenge.

“There’s a huge difference between trying and failing, and not trying at all. Even if someone’s already been cast, it doesn’t matter. I just want to show my acting to the judges at least once.”

“Oh....”

“Of course, compared to senior Lee Gyeonwoo, it’s like throwing an egg at a rock. But....”

The youngest clenched his fist.

“But I’m a strong egg!”

“....”

“Honestly, I’m more like an ostrich egg, don’t you think?”

The room burst into laughter again.

Even the casting director joined in once the explanation landed.

Because of that bold declaration, the way the production team looked at Jiho changed.

Director Kim Bora smiled.

“I really like actors who are this confident. So, Jiho—you want to show us your acting?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Let’s see it.”

At first, he hadn’t even been a consideration.

Now, their eyes held curiosity.

Let’s see what he can do.

As I watched the youngest create his own opportunity, I couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Alright.”

Director Kim Bora opened the script.

“Do you have something prepared?”

“Yes. There’s a scene I’d like to show.”

Jiho said,

“A scene from when Seon Myeongju studied abroad in the U.S. as a child. When he first came to New York to learn jazz. Page 37, bottom.”

“Page 37...”

Pages rustled.

“I’ll read Winston Ross’s lines. You do Seon Myeongju.”

“Yes.”

“You have one minute. Prepare.”

Jiho closed his eyes.

I looked down at the script.

It was from when my father was young, studying in America.

A lonely time.

A genius without passion.

A boy who questioned the meaning of music.

And the moment that changed him.

“Hmm...”

Director Kim Bora began.

“What trouble have you caused today, you brat?”

“....”

“Fine. I’ve done enough. Do whatever you want. Whether you go back to Korea or not, it’s none of my business anymore.”

Despite the mismatched voice, Jiho was already immersed.

“....”

A pause.

His acting was different from Lee Gyeonwoo’s.

Unstable.

Like something not yet formed.

Rebellion. Anxiety. Confidence.

All in one gaze.

“May I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Can music change a person’s heart?”

“....”

“With nothing but a combination of notes... can it really change someone?”

His younger self—indifferent to music.

Searching for meaning.

“If I became a politician or a businessman, I could change the world. I could help orphans live better lives.”

“So?”

“Can music do that too?”

The room grew still.

“Hard to answer.”

“Is that so?”

“If you’re that curious... why not test it yourself?”

“....”

Something shifted.

For the first time—

A serious gaze toward music.

“...There’s something I’d like to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Please teach me... how to change someone’s heart with music.”

Silence.

Then—

The faintest suggestion of a smile.

The scene ended.

Jiho opened his eyes.

Applause broke out.

“Wow...”

For a moment, it really felt like we had seen a young Seon Myeongju.

Even Director Jo looked surprised.

“...Wow.”

Jiho asked brightly,

“What did you think?”

Director Kim Bora hesitated.

“I actually prepared something to say... [N O V E L I G H T] to soften the rejection.”

Jiho grinned.

“And now?”

“If not for practical constraints, I would’ve cast you immediately. That’s how good it was.”

Jiho nodded, smiling.

The casting director sighed.

“If only your physique matched... we’d cast you as the teenage role right away.”

Too tall.

Too built.

Too mature.

A shame.

“Wooju, what did you think?”

“...Honestly? It was good. If you weren’t my brother, it would’ve been even more immersive.”

“I did well, right?”

“...You did.”

Jiho beamed like an overexcited flamingo.

I leaned toward Director Jo.

“He prepared smartly.”

“He’s experienced in acting, you know. But even I was surprised by his strategy.”

Lower expectations first.

Then deliver impact.

A perfect audition strategy.

“...He’s really clever.”

“He’s just like you.”

“Me?”

“Once you want something, you make sure you get it. And you plan for it.”

“...The first part, sure. The second—I just realized.”

“He probably learned it from watching you.”

I smiled faintly.

Meanwhile, the staff still looked reluctant.

“Jiho’s performance shook me,” said Director Kim Bora. “But realistically... we can’t cast him.”

“Yes, I understand!”

The biggest issue wasn’t just age or physique.

It was the love story.

With NewBlack Jiho in that role...

Not possible.

“Still,” she said warmly, “today I discovered a truly great actor.”

“Thank you!”

Jiho bowed politely and left, waving at me.

The moment he stepped out—

“Another amazing actor.”

“That immersion was insane.”

“Is Korea always like this with actors?”

I asked,

“What did you think, Director?”

“I was genuinely shaken.”

They all laughed.

“He broke through the ‘NewBlack’ penalty with pure acting.”

“Exactly.”

“He’s only twenty-one, right?”

“Yes.”

“Incredible focus. Incredible energy.”

“And he adjusts to his scene partner.”

That was rare.

Very rare.

After the praise settled—

“Jiho.”

“...?”

They looked confused as I spoke toward the door.

“If you’re done listening, you can go now.”

“He already left—”

The door creaked open.

Laughter erupted.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping! I forgot my cap!”

He grabbed it, dusted it off, then smiled at me.

“Alright, Dad’s leaving now. Bye, son~”

“Hey!”

“Mwah~”

I closed my eyes.

The room exploded with laughter.

After the laughter died down, we resumed casting discussions.

Most scenes would be filmed in the U.S., so Korean roles were limited.

We reviewed profiles and schedules.

“With Lee Gyeonwoo confirmed, applications will increase,” said Director Jo.

Everyone nodded.

Then I spoke up.

“There’s one important role I want to discuss.”

“Go ahead.”

“Can I personally reach out to a few actors?”

“Of course.”

“Here’s my first choice... then backup options.”

I showed them photos.

For some reason—

They were trying not to laugh.

Actresses once considered the most beautiful of the 80s and 90s.

Now respected veterans.

Among them—

Oh Hyunsook received a script.

“A cameo offer?”

“Yes. For the Seon Myeongju film starring Lee Gyeonwoo.”

“And?”

“Wooju personally requested you.”

“Oh?”

She looked intrigued.

“Which role?”

She read it.

[Special Appearance: Kim Deoksun]

“...Oh?”

She stroked her chin.

Somewhere deep inside—

A strange sense of unease crept in.

“Why do I feel like something ominous is coming...”

“Big ominous?”

“No... small... but unsettling...”

An inexplicable chill.

Kim Deoksun had no idea what was coming.