I Don’t Want to Play Villains Anymore - Chapter 27

What?

“…It seems like you’re quite charming today?”

Park Hyung-seob, who has been managing Jae-wook for six years, was practically a friend to him. Yet, he had never seen Jae-wook like this before.

Charming? The Lee Jae-wook?

“Ha. Hyung, you need to watch out.”

It was the first day of rehearsals shortly after the script reading.

Even though Jae-wook had arrived at the filming location, he didn’t want to get out of the car.

‘I have to act with that genius.’

Now, he knew that the actress named Haneul wasn’t a complete monster.

The way she smiled brightly while hugging her mother was nothing short of natural talent.

But acting was a different realm.

“Haneul. It’s really different.”

Hyung-seob furrowed his eyebrows.

“Haneul?”

“Yeah. Baek Ha-neul.”

The end of his sentence trembled oddly, as if mentioning some monster on stage.

Hyung-seob chuckled.

“Do you really need to be this nervous around a child actor?”

“Hyung, it’s not like that.”

Jae-wook shook his head slowly and turned to look out the window.

Outside was the set, with several staff members bustling around.

A very small silhouette briefly passed behind the camera equipment.

A white and quiet shadow, running around.

“Adorable, isn’t it?”

“…I can admit that.”

Clearly, just looking at her appearance, she was cuter and more charming than any child actor.

If it weren’t for what happened during the script reading, Jae-wook might have found her endearing as well.

However, Jae-wook had seen it.

“Being around that kid is scary.”

“Scary?”

When Hyung-seob asked back, Jae-wook nodded.

“At first, I thought she was just a cute kid who acted well. But then…”

On the day of the script reading.

Without even rehearsal, in the waiting room.

Even though all she did was read the script, Haneul created a perfect ‘Suha’ with her gaze.

That emptiness in her eyes, which revealed nothing.

Jae-wook was stunned.

“…Honestly, she’s not just acting during the rehearsals.”

Only soft music was playing inside the car.

Hyung-seob gazed at Jae-wook’s expression before speaking.

“Then, who else would be able to act with her besides you?”

Jae-wook said nothing.

“…Aside from a few veteran actors, no one.”

“Yeah?”

“When it comes to acting… she doesn’t leave much room for discussion. She just creates her own world.”

Jae-wook slowly touched his forehead.

“But the scarier thing is, you know?”

Hyung-seob subtly nodded.

“That kid isn’t just acting. She pulls emotions straight out.”

Only then did Hyung-seob seem momentarily speechless.

Jae-wook supported his chin with his palm and continued.

“If a kid like that pours her emotions into her acting, it’ll be over from that day. I bet any agency, even S Entertainment, would fight to take her in.”

Turning his head, Jae-wook glanced at his reflection in the car window.

His charming face. His lips seemed to force a smile.

“…It’s strange. Having acted over twenty, I never thought I’d be overwhelmed by a five-year-old.”

There was a mix of defeat, respect, and a strange feeling in those words.

At that moment.

Beep.

A message arrived on Jae-wook’s phone.

[If you’ve arrived at the waiting room, please let us know. Haneul is rehearsing now.]

Jae-wook closed his eyes.

In rehearsal.

‘She must have settled in already.’

Now, there was no more time to hesitate.

As he opened the car door, a strong breeze brushed against his face.

Maybe it was the weather.

Today was exceptionally chilly.

“Hyung.”

“Soon?”

Jae-wook replied with a small smile.

“…Now, I just want to enjoy the thrill.”

If you can’t avoid it, you might as well enjoy it.

Reluctantly, Jae-wook decided to endure this challenge.

Slowly, he walked into the studio.

To the place where a girl with god-like beauty awaited, ready to act.

—

“Umm…”

I sat in a chair, shaking my legs and glancing quietly at Jae-wook.

Until the day of the first script reading, the way he looked at me was more like ‘a young fellow actor’…

But today felt different.

A little more cautious, a little more careful, a little more like he was studying me?

‘Did I overdo it last time… ?’

During the script reading, I was somewhat intentional.

I wanted to prove that ‘this role wasn’t assigned by coincidence, but rather by fate.’

The character Suha seemed ordinary on the outside, yet had to be extraordinarily perfect to the point of being unsettling.

Within that perfection, there needed to be some kind of ominous presence.

So I calculated each expression and inflection, embedding discomfort…

‘…Was that too much?’

Or was it too precise?

I rested my chin on my hand and thought.

Lee Jae-wook is handsome.

So handsome that nothing could disturb his emotions on screen.

And he acts incredibly well. There is an atmosphere of silent delivery.

Yet today, his gaze felt slightly off.

Surprise, vigilance, curiosity, and—perhaps, a touch of discomfort?

I turned my head. I attempted to avoid any semblance of confrontation.

Jae-wook’s gaze was more complicated than I had anticipated.

Not out of fear but rather a feeling of ‘trying to understand’.

That left me more charmed.

‘Ah. I like that gaze.’

This is acting.

As long as it’s acting, it has to have an impact that is visible.

The fact that he felt something towards me means I was successfully convincing him of the act of Suha.

Therefore, this is a battle.

Pretending to be close, pretending to be cute, pretending to be young holds no value.

I quietly placed both hands on my knees.

Today, there is a script. Today, Suha is within me.

The camera hasn’t rolled yet, but we are already in performance.

And Jae-wook will likely thrive on any competitive edge he feels about me.

I took a small breath.

‘Let’s do well today too, Baek Ha-neul.’

Though I didn’t say it out loud, I clearly repeated it in my head.

I was already on stage.

The lights weren’t on yet, but emotions were already set.

‘As it’s my first appearance, I must show all the contents I have.’

I placed the script on my lap and carefully ran my fingertips over the paper.

Scene number 3. Beginning part.

In this scene, Suha’s first appearance to the viewers will be determined.

“We’re ready for rehearsal!”

At the sound of the director’s announcement, my heart raced in sync.

Gong Mu-heon, the director in front of the monitor, said nothing.

But his gaze spoke.

‘Show me what you’ve prepared.’

Yes. Of course, that should be expected.

I quietly stood up.

Inside the classroom set, there were little desks and chairs, colored paper and crayons, and toys.

A typical classroom scene.

However, my way of walking wasn’t typical.

Not too raised on my toes and not too carefully placed on the ground.

The natural stride of a five-year-old. Yet, there was a sense of charm beneath.

‘Regardless of past lives, I still feel nervous.’

This time, I’m playing a villain.

Not 100% but aiming for 101%.

“Camera, take!”

“Action, take!”

“Scene 3-2, take 1. Action!”

Alright.

This sound.

“Haah…”

My heart raced.

—

I looked at the eraser on the desk.

From Suha’s perspective.

The other kids were chatting, laughing, cutting paper and gluing, carelessly smearing crayons on their clothes.

Amidst that energetic atmosphere, Suha was quietly alone.

She seemed like a ‘decorative item momentarily forgotten’ among those kids.

Not moving yet undeniably present.

Following the serene rhythm of that child, I slowly raised my eyes to look at the friend sitting across from me.

A small child smiling brightly, extending their tiny hand towards me.

Trivial yet devastating.

“Suha! Can you pass me the eraser?”

In an instant, the air freezes.

It’s neither because of the camera nor the timing of the dialogue.

‘Suha’ reacts about 0.7 seconds later than usual after being asked a question.

Such a slight delay that could merit a comment of ‘how natural’.

Just like a child taking time to understand words and emotions.

Then, she smiles faintly.

“Okay.”

A short dialogue. But for me, it felt weighty, as if it filled a whole page.

When Suha says ‘Okay’, the tone should be kind.

Yet at the same time, it must not be overly affectionate.

It should be endlessly close to kindness, yet never quite meet it.

Because Suha is a being that converges with emotions.

So I merely lift the corners of my mouth.

My eyes gaze straight ahead, emotionless.

With a hint of the willingness to ‘give’, yet maintaining a blurred emotional distance of ‘not yet’.

I slowly extend my hand, lifting the white hand grasping the eraser on the desk.

Suha pulls out scissors from her bag.

There are cute cartoon stickers on the scissors.

Yes. Cartoons. Very cute imagery.

Yet in Suha’s hands, that cartoon is no longer a harmless toy but a precise instrument.

Having already sharpened them on the bricks near the church several times.

I said nothing, quietly placing the scissors atop the eraser.

Squeak—

The meticulously sharpened edge cuts through the eraser silently.

But the rhythm from my hand and the sound of the scissors, as well as the glimmer in my eyes upon cutting the eraser, holds that sound within.

Snap—

Once.

Rustle—

Twice.

While my body looks at the eraser, my attention is directed towards my friend.

As if saying, ‘It must be cut for it to be yours’.

I picked up one half of the cut eraser and handed it to my friend.

“Here.”

The tone was small and tidy. No guilt, intention, or doubt.

Just like an ordinary exchange.

“We can both use this now, right?”

That line wasn’t in the script.

But it serves as a clear sentence to enhance Suha’s ‘character’.

The reason I inserted this line was simple.

This child shows no reaction to the act of ‘cutting’.

Sharing, cutting, or tearing apart—she accepts it as simply part of life.

At that moment, I smiled softly.

Brightly, naturally. Like a truly kind child.

But at the same time, within my gaze, I slowly started to extract emotions.

That is quite a fearsome process for an actor.

Taking ‘life’ out of living eyes.

It’s just about having eyes there.

Not heading towards something stereotypical but ‘pure’ to act out.

The camera didn’t miss that.

The camera closing in on my face.

My lips are smiling, yet my eyes say nothing.

No matter what angle the camera captures, it’ll look strangely abnormal.

As if portraying something that isn’t there.

“Cut!”

The silence shattered.

No one could easily breathe again.

Gong Mu-heon, who had been watching the monitor, quietly folded his arms and said.

“…What an incredible first appearance.”

That remark was neither praise nor admiration.

Just a tone of disbelief.

I quietly returned to my seat.

Several staff members shook their heads while exchanging glances. One dropped a pen and scrambled to pick it up.

Someone murmured softly.

“That…”