I Want to Be a VTuber

Chapter 41



When Seo-yeon portrayed Hong Jeong-hee, she delivered an emotionally deep performance.

For example, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to do method acting; she just didn’t.

The information was lacking.

In the end, Seo-yeon’s typical emotional acting was on par with that of a veteran actor.

In other words, she acted based on what she had personally experienced or seen.

On the flip side, it takes time to understand emotions for situations she hasn’t experienced or for unique characters that are “not normal.”

For Seo-yeon, emotions were essentially something to learn from in her previous life.

Now that she has reincarnated, that shortcoming has vanished, but it’s still the same when it comes to feelings she hasn’t consciously experienced or felt.

In other words, the character “Hong Jeong-hee” was merely a script for Seo-yeon.

There were many aspects of her speech and behavior that didn’t make sense to her.

Thus, Seo-yeon tried to interpret and express the emotions written in the script in her own way, resulting in her version of “Hong Jeong-hee.”

“Of course, that alone can’t beat Pyo Ji-woo, who has fully grasped the character.”

The answer was right in front of her.

So, she watched Pyo Ji-woo’s actions.

The play illustrates the character’s psychology through movement.

Those intense movements helped her understand the character of Hong Jeong-hee.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

She took a breath.

Opening her previously closed eyes, she looked at the judges.

“Song Min-seo.”

Hong Jeong-hee called out to Song Min-seo.

This was a strange behavior upon a moment’s thought.

Song Min-seo had a hearing impairment, and even if she spoke, she couldn’t hear.

Yet, Hong Jeong-hee spoke to her solely with words, without incorporating sign language.

Perhaps it was a part of the play, a means to convey Hong Jeong-hee’s words to the audience.

However, other characters in different plays mixed in simple sign language when speaking with Song Min-seo.

In other words, Hong Jeong-hee’s words and actions were merely soliloquies.

It didn’t matter whether Song Min-seo heard her or not.

“You’re just a deaf girl anyway.”

This wasn’t a mocking remark.

Surprisingly, the emotion reflected in that line was inferiority complex.

Such was Hong Jeong-hee.

As Seo-yeon performed, Jo Do-yul thought, “This is different from her previous acting. Yet, it’s not entirely different.”

At first, he wondered if she was merely imitating Pyo Ji-woo.

But it felt beyond that.

It was as if she understood the character by watching Pyo Ji-woo, and her emotional lines in her performance were much deeper.

It’s likely that Jo Do-yul wasn’t the only one to feel this way.

The other judges were scribbling notes, mesmerized by Seo-yeon’s performance.

“Hmm? Think about it. Do you really think he liked you?”

Since she harbored an inferiority complex towards the hearing-impaired Song Min-seo, Hong Jeong-hee further belittled her.

She wielded violence, ensuring that she couldn’t hear her words.

“I was just going along with your vile scheme.”

There was a sense of superiority in that place.

Understanding that base mentality, Seo-yeon spat out the line.

“A wretched girl who uses her disability to take advantage of others’ kindness.”

Ultimately, Hong Jeong-hee’s lines served only to demean Song Min-seo.

And simultaneously,

“Pathetic.”

That line was also directed at herself.

Pathetic.

Hong Jeong-hee knew she was pathetic.

But it didn’t matter.

If she could exclude Song Min-seo, she might just be able to shake off Baesung-hak.

If she could claim his empty spot, it might be possible.

Concealing such sinister thoughts, she disparaged, yet Song Min-seo responded calmly to Hong Jeong-hee’s words.

Seeing that, Hong Jeong-hee’s actions grew more intense.

Her tone escalated, and she resorted to violence.

Seo-yeon performed that act while following Pyo Ji-woo’s blocking.

Imitating those movements, she corrected a few actions on the spot.

“This is Pyo Ji-woo’s. But for Hong Jeong-hee… it should be a bit different.”

Of course, this was only Seo-yeon’s interpretation.

However, unlike before, this interpretation came from understanding.

The outcome was the same, but Seo-yeon painted her colors onto Pyo Ji-woo’s.

The picture shaped by the sea’s currents.

So it could be beautifully displayed in the aquarium.

The emotions Seo-yeon newly understood.

Through those emotions, a new “Hong Jeong-hee” was performed.

Finally, it was perfectly realized.

“That’s it.”

Seo-yeon replied calmly.

She brushed back her disheveled hair.

When she looked straight ahead, adjusting her wrinkled collar from the intense movements, the judges were all lost in thought, mouths agape.

“Ugh.”

What a dilemma.

Such auditions happen sometimes.

Where they hesitate over whom to choose.

“Both fit the role of Hong Jeong-hee.”

“Appearance-wise, it’s actually Pyo Ji-woo, right?”

“Joo Seo-yeon’s looks are a bit too flashy. But that can be covered by makeup.”

Each performance had its unique features.

Choosing anyone for the role of Hong Jeong-hee wouldn’t be a wrong choice.

“Monsters.”

Jo Do-yul clicked his tongue inwardly.

Clearly, Seo-yeon’s immersion in the role of “Hong Jeong-hee” was lower than Pyo Ji-woo in the first performance.

It was an excellent performance, and she had a captivating presence, but the essence of “Hong Jeong-hee” seemed to be more aligned with Pyo Ji-woo.

“The blocking was nearly identical. The movements were similar at first too.”

Did she memorize Pyo Ji-woo’s movements right away?

The real deal came afterward.

It was the ‘Hong Jeong-hee’ that appeared with Seo-yeon’s color added.

“The fact that she said she would act later…”

The judges recalled what Seo-yeon had said initially.

“Since I acted first, I’d like to save this next performance for later.”

They thought she merely made that statement out of pressure, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Will anyone want to act after this?”

Min Se-ho, one of the judges participating, chuckled lightly.

As an actor, he felt that more acutely.

Seo-yeon had just seen Pyo Ji-woo’s performance and quickly interpreted and acted out the character.

A child-actor genius.

That was the nickname given to Joo Seo-yeon ten years ago.

Min Se-ho could now vividly understand why that nickname was given.

“Oh, it’s time. We’ll notify you of the results later via text or email.”

Jo Do-yul said after checking the time.

He had wasted too much time, even with other actors remaining.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

With those words, Seo-yeon’s first audition since her comeback came to an end.

*

“Hah.”

As soon as Seo-yeon stepped outside the building, she exhaled.

Cold sweat was forming on her forehead.

“I can’t get too immersed in Hong Jeong-hee’s emotions.”

She still felt a tingling sensation in her chest.

Inferiority complex.

That vile, insidious feeling lingered in her heart.

The acting she understood, practiced, and expressed was overly stimulating for Seo-yeon.

“You! You!!”

At that moment, Pyo Ji-woo followed her outside, shouting with a trembling voice.

“How could you! How could you do that!”

Pyo Ji-woo felt wronged.

This was the role she had been practicing for a whole year, waiting eagerly for.

But, but!

“I lost.”

She felt it.

Pyo Ji-woo bit her lower lip, wiping away the tears that flowed from her eyes.

Their performances were certainly similar.

No, in some aspects, Pyo Ji-woo was still superior.

Hong Jeong-hee suited Pyo Ji-woo’s acting best.

She was confident enough to say that.

However.

“Vocalization.”

And the proficiency and growth in acting.

The impact that the name “Joo Seo-yeon” carried.

Conversely, the only advantage Pyo Ji-woo could boast was that she was a bit more “fitting.”

In all other aspects, Seo-yeon excelled.

That was only natural.

For Pyo Ji-woo, ten years may seem long, but for Seo-yeon, it was significantly longer spent honing her craft.

It was only natural for the technical differences to show.

She must have overwhelmed in character interpretation.

Yet it was caught up to in an instant.

“Ugh, ughh!!”

Seeing Pyo Ji-woo storming toward her, unable to contain her rage, Seo-yeon narrowed her eyes.

She scanned Pyo Ji-woo from head to toe.

“…She doesn’t have any weapons, right?”

Especially not a knife.

Seo-yeon glanced at the slender legs of Pyo Ji-woo.

What would happen if she were to give a swift low kick?

“You.”

As those ominous thoughts brewed, Pyo Ji-woo approached and reached out a hand toward Seo-yeon.

Seo-yeon easily grabbed it.

“Who?”

It wasn’t like she intended to attack.

She merely wanted to hold onto Pyo Ji-woo, who seemed to be gradually slipping away.

“What the? Why is your grip so strong?”

Pyo Ji-woo was surprised and tried to pull her arm away, but felt fear at the immovable grip.

What kind of girl has this much strength?

It was frustrating.

Not only was she on the verge of losing her role, but now she was facing these troubles.

She just wanted to have a little, very little, conversation.

Just a bit, perhaps to intimidate her slightly.

Having a tiny thought about some mischief?

Hmm, what if she issued a gentle threat?

Just a slight thought!

But!

She was a minor and still just a kid.

It was only a little bit!

Just a little bit…

Tears welled up in Pyo Ji-woo’s eyes.

“Uhhhhh!!”

“Eek.”

Of course, seeing her tears, Seo-yeon was horrified.

In many ways.

“Sniff.”

After a brief moment passed,

“…If you do anything suspicious, I will report you.”

With those words from Seo-yeon, Pyo Ji-woo felt even sadder.

She hadn’t done anything yet, yet Seo-yeon treated her like a criminal.

This wasn’t Seo-yeon’s intention.

The memories of her past life were too intense.

“I’m someone who once caused a death…”

As mentioned, Seo-yeon had first encountered this play “With Closed Eyes” through the news.

About a violent incident.

In that news, the perpetrator was none other than Pyo Ji-woo standing before her.

The victim was Min Se-ho.

In some ways, it might have been a consequence incurred by Min Se-ho.

But Pyo Ji-woo had barged into a club with a knife.

Then she stabbed Min Se-ho, who was with friends.

That incident had been the talk of online communities for a while.

“Surviving from that situation, Min Se-ho must be remarkable.”

Anyway, Pyo Ji-woo broke through the club guards and committed that act, earning her a reputation online as “Swordmaster Pyo.”

If she had brought a knife today… Seo-yeon couldn’t have guaranteed her victory.

“But…”

Looking at Pyo Ji-woo, sobbing,

At least for now, she’s not the Pyo Ji-woo from the news.

Moreover, having seen her performance, Seo-yeon didn’t want to see such a destructive future come to pass.

“Pyo Ji-woo… sis.”

“Uh?”

The word “sis” felt slightly odd still.

While thinking about that, Seo-yeon continued.

“If you’re okay, would you like to go somewhere with me in three days?”

At least knowing this now, such a situation like in the past wouldn’t occur.

If Pyo Ji-woo was still not in a relationship with Min Se-ho, it might be different now.

*

“Seo-hee, isn’t it time for you to do a drama or something?”

Inside a large van, manager Shin Yoo-kyung grumbled while watching Jo Seo-hee casually playing with her phone. They had known each other for over ten years, so she felt comfortable saying such things.

Shin Yoo-kyung had many complaints about Jo Seo-hee’s recent behavior.

Thus, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m just not motivated these days.”

“Hmm, you’ve been working too hard.”

At seventeen, Jo Seo-hee barely attended school, dedicating herself to work, making her one of the best among her peers.

The only competition was Park Jung-woo, three years older.

Just one person.

“No, it’s not just those around her age. How many of today’s actresses are doing better than Jo Seo-hee?”

A guarantee box office hit.

That’s what they called her since a year ago, when Jo Seo-hee had just been in ninth grade.

Two films and four dramas.

All of them achieved extraordinary results, hitting big.

Only one was a lead role, but who cares?

Ultimately, her name recognition had skyrocketed.

If she went to school, students would flock to her, desperate to talk to her.

She had gained that level of popularity and recognition.

But Jo Seo-hee’s expression remained very bored.

“I don’t really feel like acting.”

“You’re in burnout mode. Maybe you should take a few months off?”

Downtime.

It had been a term not applied to Jo Seo-hee for about a decade.

When did she begin working so hard?

She recalled the person who had been the catalyst for it.

“Has she really retired?”

Joo Seo-yeon.

She muttered the name several times.

Even though they had only exchanged a few words, could anyone else have influenced her this intensely?

“Take some time off and see some plays or musicals. Enjoy cultural activities. Who knows? You might get motivated again.”

Musicals, films.

Shin Yoo-kyung’s intentions were somewhat clear.

But Jo Seo-hee, being an actress by nature, figured seeing such things might rejuvenate her spirit.

“Yoo-kyung is right; maybe I should take a break.”

A play.

That was slightly unfamiliar for Jo Seo-hee, who had been mainly active in dramas and films.

Thus, she felt a bit of interest in it.

Yes, just a little.



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