In mid-August, as Kim Donghu prepared to watch Ryu Jae-rin’s debut performance.
anwhile, at the Korean Arts High School, known as Daejong High, tensions ran high within the drama club, Sparking.
"Are you really going to do it like this? Do you think this is okay?"
"It’s not like I want to do this. I hate it too, but there’s no other way, so what can I do?"
"So, you’re just saying you won’t do it?"
"I’m not saying I won’t. I’m saying we should go with a different script."
At the ntion of using a different script, a desk was overturned.
As if the word was the ultimate insult, one of the seniors kicked the desk, openly displaying his anger.
"You little punk! You’re insulting outright, saying my acting’s trash?"
"No, it’s just that we’re on different levels. I’ll only act with people I want to work with."
"So, that ans I’m not good enough?"
"Yeah. Sorry, but you’re not up to my script’s standards."
"You little…!"
Crack.
The older student, taller and bigger than his peers, grabbed the younger one by the collar and lifted him. Despite dangling off the ground, face turning red from lack of air, the younger student continued.
"We agreed from the start to have two scripts, rember?"
His words only incited the senior’s anger further, and in a fit of rage, he threw the younger student to the ground.
Crash!
"Do you know who you’re ssing with? You want to pull all the funding for this? This production you’re working on—your graduation project?"
"I’m really sorry, but I can’t do it. Even if I barely have the money for tuition, rely on scholarships and part-ti work, and write scripts in a cramped room…"
One thing was certain: I have my pride in my craft, and you can’t handle my script.
This never-ending argunt, repeated so many tis, was at a standstill. But in the younger student’s eyes was a resolve to end it today.
"Hey, that’s no way to speak to a senior. Apologize."
"I’m just being honest. Besides, I was the one who got hit. Why should I apologize? There’s a reason they say the person who butts in is the worst."
Though his words showed no social grace, they were not wrong. He was, perhaps, soone who only ever spoke truths that got him punched.
Despite his lack of tact, his talent was undeniable, and so the other club mbers refrained from getting involved.
Noting the atmosphere, the younger student rose, dusted himself off, and looked around.
They were all just spoiled kids looking for an easy way out. He couldn’t hand over his masterpiece to such people.
"You guys couldn’t handle this play."
The younger student, Bong Jin-woo, held firmly to his ideals and philosophy.
"Just pick a safe script, put on a decent performance, take a modest bow, and leave quietly," he said to the senior. "In my opinion, that’s all your talent can handle."
At this, the senior grabbed Jin-woo by the collar again.
Yet Jin-woo’s expression remained unchanged.
"Hey, you little beggar, write a script, I’ll pay you."
"What’s wrong with you? I want a great role I can play well."
"A cute girl just joined; maybe I’ll do a romance with her. What do you think?"
To him, this was payback for all the years of insults.
Calling him a beggar, mocking him as an orphan, and now throwing a tantrum when he couldn’t take a jab himself?
"How narrow-minded can he be?" Jin-woo thought, a bitter smile on his face as he slightly lifted his knee.
Ordinarily, it wouldn’t reach. But thanks to the senior grabbing his collar, the move was possible.
Thud.
His knee lightly grazed the softest spot on the male anatomy. He didn’t aim to injure, just to give enough of a shock.
But that was enough.
"Ahh…!"
Any man struck in such a place would fall.
Brushing off his clothes, Jin-woo collected his script from behind the senior.
"Y-you… who… who do you plan to give that to?"
Clutching his groin, the senior desperately asked about the script’s fate. Jin-woo cocked his head.
"Who knows? Rumor has it Kim Donghu is joining next year. Maybe I’ll give it to him."
"Do you really think he’ll act in so beggar’s script?"
The reality of that insult made his grip on the script tighten.
"If my script is good, why not?"
I trust in my work. Jin-woo looked down at his script, titled:
The Story of Stars and Moon
A heart-wrenching romance about a boy and girl, born from the hands of a playwright who felt emotions only faintly.
Finally, the day of Ryu Jae-rin’s music broadcast debut arrived.
"My first ti watching a music broadcast live."
I arrived at the broadcast station with a mix of anticipation. I wanted to go to the waiting room to cheer her on, but Jae-rin wasn’t performing solo, so that was impossible.
"It’d be too overwhelming."
Besides, I needed to be careful here, with so many eyes watching.
"No need to start any rumors."
So, I had disguised myself thoroughly: mask, sunglasses, hat, coat—leaving no part of myself exposed.
Though such an obvious disguise might draw suspicion, everyone here was focused on idols. On the street, I’d stand out, but here, the fans’ attention was solely on the stage.
"Better find a spot that doesn’t stand out."
With my height, I moved to the back and checked my phone.
Are you here?
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