Chapter 142
TL: KSD
It wasn’t the first time I’d experienced everyone in the world acting like they wanted to devour me.
EP 9 – Sound
The pandemic that swept across the globe killed a lot of people, killed free trade, killed tolerance, and killed the film industry too.
The film industry is sustained by the cycle of Director & Writer – Production & Distribution – Theaters. If even one of the three collapses, it’s fatal. The theaters collapsed.
People stopped going to theaters out of fear of the plague. To survive, theaters raised ticket prices. As a result audiences only chose “safe bets” when picking movies.
Result: Everything withered except for mediocre films.
To put it more bluntly, it was totally fucked.
Even if you worked hard to make a film, people wouldn’t watch it. Since there was no profit, distribution companies shelved films, waiting for the day a hero would ride in on a white horse to save them.
As a result, the overall quality of works declined, and even if a high-quality piece emerged, it would get buried. Actors, afraid that any project they chose would become a historic commercial failure, shivered in fear.– Staff… assemble!
Then came So Tae-woong, who was, without exaggeration, the walking messiah of the film industry.
To industry insiders, the title ‘Last Survivor’, who managed to shoot a film and succeed during these times, was far more relatable than the grand title of ‘Winner of the Berlin Golden Bear Award’.
Did he film ‘Red Hunter’ before or after the pandemic?
In these times, making a successful film was as hard as plucking stars from the sky, but this monster of a director had done it.
There was a reason why investors, without even looking at a synopsis, would open their wallets as if hypnotized the moment they saw So Tae-woong’s wrinkled jacket.
And when it came to understanding the state of the industry, actors were no less sharp than the investors.
– I’ll do it!
– Please, pick me!
– I’ll spare no effort, even if it means working like a dog or a horse for this great cause.
Even though the notice called for <teenage roles>, people in their twenties and thirties flooded in. After all, they all belonged to the same generation grouped under the label MZ Generation.
They swarmed as if they’d discovered an oasis in the desert. This wasn’t just a simple metaphor. Humans die if they can’t drink water. Actors die if they can’t take on projects. This was a matter of livelihood.
In that context, it could be seen as a subtle rejection that So Tae-woong’s third self-proclaimed right-hand man (since everyone insisted they were the right-hand, there was no left-hand) chose the method of an ‘audition’. The message was clear: the big names who felt awkward standing in line with kids should know their place and go back.
Of course, no one did go back, and Kim Byul burned with hatred towards the older actresses, while Moon In suddenly found himself in the position of judging veteran actors who were the cream of the crop.
It was almost like torture.
* * *
“Yes. That’ll be all. Thank you.”
“Alright. Goodbye, Director-nim. Even if not today, I’ll see you next time for sure!”
Unlike rookie actors, veteran actors could infer their rejection just from the tone of voice, yet they didn’t lose their composure and still left polite greetings for Director So Tae-woong.
I knew her name and face.
But she showed a performance from a realm I didn’t understand, and I could only say I didn’t know. So as soon as she left, I asked So Tae-woong again.
“…Am I really supposed to be sitting here?”
It was my sixth time asking, so the kind answer from Director So Tae-woong had long turned into a curt, indifferent reply.
“Yes.”
“I see…”
Actually, no.
This doesn’t feel right.
I’m someone far removed from visual media like movies or dramas. I’ve only walked the singular path of novels. Yet this was already the sixth actor whose face and name I recognized.
In South Korea, it was practically a scientific fact that to be considered a truly national actor, I had to know both the name and face. Hence, my burden was growing steadily heavier.
The veteran actors who saw the kid sitting in the judges’ seats mostly reacted in a similar way. First, they flinched in surprise, then tried to act like nothing was wrong, awkwardly smiling.
However, the managers, whose acting skills were inferior to their clients, couldn’t hide their expressions. Even as they quietly observed from the corner of the audition room, their looks screamed, ‘Who the hell is that kid?’
This particular actor, however, was a bit unusual.
She openly stared at me with an expression that clearly said, “Who the hell is that sitting there?”
It was Kim Byul.
I briefly avoided her intense gaze.
I lowered my head at a 45-degree angle, dodging her stare, but kept rolling my eyes to check her reaction.
At that moment, Kim Byul’s mind, which had briefly wandered off to Andromeda, returned to reality.
“Ah, hello! I’m actress Kim Byul!”
“Haha, Kim Byul, it’s been a while. Nice to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you too, Director-nim!”
“Yes, yes. Let’s see… You’re in your first year of high school now, right?”
Director So Tae-woong, who had become acquainted with Kim Byul through the film ‘Red Hunter’, naturally continued the conversation, but it seemed like the strange exchange of glances between us hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.
“Come to think of it, Kim Byul, you’re also familiar with Author Moon In, right?”
Without even a second’s hesitation, Kim Byul answered firmly.
“No, not at all.”
Professional actor Kim Byul, for the sake of the audition, threw our friendship aside like an old shoe. It seems you need to be this level of ruthless to survive in the cold, harsh entertainment industry.
Now, I finally understood how she felt back when she called me on a variety show to ask if we were friends, only to hear me respond with, “Me?”
My fingers trembled slightly, and I held them with my other hand as I coldly added.
“We’re not friends. I have no connection with Senior Kim.”
“Huh? Yeah, that’s right. I’m not friends with someone who didn’t even bother to tell me they’d be sitting as a judge at the audition when I said I will be auditioning.”
“I mean, Senior Kim and I just happened to attend the same school. I wouldn’t really say we’re friends…”
I wasn’t sure which part was supposed to be funny, but Director So Tae-woong and the staff in the audition room all had smiles tugging at their lips.
One of the staff, who had introduced himself as So Tae-woong’s third right-hand man (and had me wondering if So Tae-woong had as many hands as a thousand-armed Avalokitesvara), had completely collapsed onto the desk, laughing uncontrollably.
With a smile that never left his face, Director So Tae-woong gently admonished us, alternating his gaze between Kim Byul and me.
“You don’t need to worry too much. Author Moon isn’t an official judge. I just called him here for some advice. It’s the same for everyone else, actually. I’m the only judge for this audition, so don’t be too bothered about having a friend sitting in the judges’ seats. Just perform like you normally would.”
“Yes! I understand!”
The audition began.
Following the assistant director’s cue, Kim Byul started to act.
The prop she had prepared was a cane.
It was a cane for the blind.
* * *
There’s a technique called echo-location.
It’s a method of identifying objects through sound, by discerning the echo that bounces back when something strikes an object. It’s mainly used by bats, dolphins, and blind humans.
It sounds like something straight out of a comic or movie, but surprisingly, it’s effective. After training at the hospital for about two years, my quality of life felt like it had drastically improved. A bit of an exaggeration, but it’s more useful than a cane.
However, this technique has one drawback: you have to regularly tap your tongue against the roof of your mouth to make a “click” sound.
Sound is not a one-way form of communication. It’s two-way.
When you make a sound, you get detected by them.
-Grrr… Grrrr…
Damn it. That thing must be right in front of me.
I heard the footsteps of it approaching me, so I began to move backward, retracing my steps down the apartment hallway.
Even if it meant taking a slightly longer route, I planned to go home using a different elevator.
But perhaps this one was more persistent.
The sound of footsteps chasing me from behind didn’t stop.
-Grrr… Grrrr…
I quickened my pace to avoid being caught.
If I got caught by them, I could end up in a terrible situation.
Yes, just like this.
“Ah…!”
I flinched as I felt someone grab my shoulder from behind.
Before the unpleasant sensation could fade, it spoke to me.
“Excuse me, do you need some help?”
Of all people, it had to be a man.
Gripping my trembling shoulder tightly, I answered in the softest, kindest, and most unassuming voice I could muster.
“No, I’m fine.”
I prayed that there wouldn’t be a “but” following that, but, as always, the cold and indifferent world did not grant my wish.
“But still, I’ll walk you home. We’re neighbors, after all!”
If I rejected the predator’s kindness any further, it might cause offense. And a visually impaired person cannot stand against a sighted one. I knew that all too well.
So, I yielded.
“Thank you. You’re very kind.”
“Oh, don’t mention it. Which unit are you in?”
“1205.”
In exchange for providing him with a sense of moral superiority, I arrived at my home, which I could have reached perfectly fine on my own.
“Here we are. You’re home.”
“Ah, thank you. Goodbye.”
“Haha, no problem. Have a good day.”
It left.
It, the one that could bite and devour me at any moment, left.
I listened closely to its footsteps, and only when I was sure it had completely gone did I proceed with my next action.
I headed not to unit 1205, but to the door of unit 1204.
Since someone might watch me input the door lock code, I quickly pulled out my key card from my wallet.
Even in this moment, the tension didn’t dissipate.
That corner of the hallway!
From the corner, where I thought it had disappeared, it was peeking out, watching me.
-Grrr… Grrrr…
Were the fading footsteps just a trick to deceive me?
Was it planning to rush in and tear apart my insides the moment I opened the door?
I didn’t know.
I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t tell where it was, whether it was staring at me, or whether it was all real or just my imagination.
But darkness.
Darkness triggers fear in humans.
Shivering in that darkness, I opened the door and entered the house.
I still couldn’t let my guard down.
While I was at school, they could have snuck into my home.
Clutching a safety alarm in one hand, I searched every corner of the house with my cane and echolocation.
Only after confirming that it wasn’t in my home did I collapse onto my bed.
“Haah…”
Surviving was this difficult.
* * *
In reality, Kim Byul has poor eyesight.
It’s not so bad that she absolutely has to wear glasses, but her vision isn’t good enough that she can go without them either.
The reason the people around her don’t know about her poor eyesight is simple: she’s meticulously hidden it.
Her vision is bad enough that she can’t read a script with her bare eyes, but she wears corrective contact lenses when out in public.
It wasn’t because of some celebrity mindset that she always had to show her most beautiful self to those who could cast her… rather, it was the complete opposite.
She was embarrassed to wear glasses!
There wasn’t any profound reason behind it. It just was. The part of Kim Byul that wasn’t made up of the 90% that was a celebrity, but the 10% that was a girl, was asserting itself for once.
If we were to forcibly find a cold and rational reason, we could say it’s because of her mom.
Kim Byul’s mother often (actually, quite frequently) acted as if she were not a mother but a senior actress. Once, a long time ago, she looked at Kim Byul wearing glasses and said, “Glasses don’t suit your face, so try not to wear them unless you have to.”
Even a hedgehog finds its own baby cute, but her mother was worse than a hedgehog!
“Sigh…”
Whether that memory still lingered deeply or whether Kim Byul herself felt the same way when she looked in the mirror, in any case, Kim Byul never wore glasses in front of others.
She only wore glasses after taking out her lenses when she studied scripts alone in her room, and today was one of those days. The feel of the glasses, which she hadn’t worn in a while, felt awkward.
After adjusting her glasses unnecessarily, Kim Byul continued to dive into the script.
The protagonist of the film ‘Sound’ is blind.
A person who lost their sight later in life.
She is highly cautious, polite, and superficial, and she goes to high school.
She has a quirk of treating other people like zombies.
All in all, a complex character.
Just from these keywords, Kim Byul could tell that this character was someone haunted by past wounds and trauma.
If she were just a viewer, she might have thought, “Ah, I see,” and moved on. But Kim Byul was an actor, not someone who passively received information but someone who had to convey it.
Thus, she had to go one step further and concretize this character. That required deep contemplation.
To portray this character more vividly on the silver screen…
But she couldn’t focus well.
Because in this character, she caught a glimpse of something all too familiar.
Deficiency, trauma, obsession with survival…
“Isn’t this the kind of thing he likes too much…?”
Of course, it was Moon In.
Kim Byul giggled mischievously.
Somehow, as the script began to feel more familiar, the saying “speak of the tiger, and it appears” came true. A call came from the tiger himself.
“Hey-you, non-friend.”
-Senior Kim, can we meet for a bit?
“What’s the matter?”
-You passed.
With a slightly bittersweet smile, Kim Byul took off her glasses.
It wasn’t just a sweet victory.
*****
If you enjoy this novel, please review and rate it at Novelupdates. Thanks!
Join our Discord to receive latest chapter announcements or to report mistakes: .gg/GGKyZWDuZM