INVSD 13

Chapter 13

In the end, it came down to an audition.

Whether that was fortunate or unfortunate, she wasn’t sure.

As expected, LiveOn presented the condition that they would only proceed if Jung Ga-yoon’s casting was withdrawn.

However, after watching the video Ga-yoon had sent, Writer Yang could not give up on her and chose Netplay instead, even though it meant putting up with their incompatible working style.

But another problem arose.

“I think So Yul-hee is the perfect choice.”

Netplay accepted Writer Yang Bo-hyeon’s casting decision, but Park Hae-gang, the director who would be directing Whistle, objected.

Director Park showed the script to the actress he had in mind, So Yul-hee.

So Yul-hee was an actress in her early thirties who had become successful through romantic comedies. More recently, however, she had earned recognition for her acting after taking on a charismatic detective role in a film, followed by a chilling villain role set during the Japanese occupation.

After reading the script for Whistle, So Yul-hee made it clear that she really wanted to play the villain.

With neither Park Hae-gang nor Yang Bo-hyeon willing to back down, Butterfly, the production company under Netplay, suggested holding an audition.

And so, the audition was arranged.

“Hello, Senior.”

“Oh, yeah. Hello.”

So Yul-hee, a thirteen-year veteran who was six years older than Jung Ga-yoon, still could not believe that this actress had earned Writer Yang Bo-hyeon’s approval.

Jung Ga-yoon’s image might suit Choi Mi-so, the villain of Whistle.

The character’s appearance as described in Yang Bo-hyeon’s synopsis was quite similar to hers.

But could she properly portray Choi Mi-so’s inner self?

It wasn’t that So Yul-hee looked down on Jung Ga-yoon.

She had watched The Conditions of Inheritance, as well as Jung Ga-yoon’s previous works.

“You’re a good actress.”

“Thank you for thinking so highly of me.”

“Yes. I really do think highly of you.”

So Yul-hee looked at Jung Ga-yoon from the corner of her eye while keeping the script in her hands.

A junior might have been flustered if a senior actress with a significant career advantage subtly showed hostility toward her.

But Jung Ga-yoon looked surprisingly composed.

Hmph. She can put on a brave face, but she’s probably falling apart inside.

So Yul-hee almost let the corners of her lips curl upward, but stopped herself and returned her attention to the script.

Jung Ga-yoon’s only experience playing a villain was in The Conditions of Inheritance.

A villain who merely interfered with the female lead’s love life in a romance drama wouldn’t be enough for this role.

“Yes. I really do think highly of you.”

Jung Ga-yoon could sense the sincerity behind So Yul-hee’s words.

She genuinely intended to give it everything she had and not go easy on Ga-yoon in the fight for this role.

The words had probably been chosen deliberately to put pressure on her.

Rather than being intimidated, however, Ga-yoon was excited.

She had found So Yul-hee’s recent works extremely interesting.

She had been an actress known only for cute and comedic romantic performances, but then she completely overturned expectations and impressively lived up to the public’s new expectations.

By repeatedly attempting dramatic transformations and proving that they were not flukes, she had shown that her success came from genuine ability.

If she managed to pull off Choi Mi-so in Whistle, no one would be able to deny that she was more than just a star.

She would be recognized as a true actress.

That was exactly why So Yul-hee would probably take this audition even more seriously.

The only thing Ga-yoon regretted was that, as merely another audition participant, she would not get to watch So Yul-hee perform.

“Actress So Yul-hee, it’s your turn. Please go in.”

As the higher-priority candidate, So Yul-hee entered the audition room first.

Watching her disappear through the door, Ga-yoon swallowed her disappointment.

Jung Ga-yoon loved acting.

The first time she became aware of acting as a profession was when she was in fifth grade.

She had gone on a school field trip to see a small theater performance in Daehangno.

In a dark, cramped space, a story she had known only as a fairy tale suddenly came alive.

The actors’ movements.

Their eyes.

Their breathing.

The tension.

She could never forget it.

From that moment on, the dramas her mother watched and the movies broadcast on cable channels began to look completely different to her.

After that, she went to see dramas, movies, and plays whenever she had the chance.

When she entered middle school and heard that there was a theater club, she immediately went looking for it.

Just as she had expected, acting was incredibly captivating.

It was an extraordinary craft that allowed a person to express every emotion they possessed without filtering any of it.

Being able to put a name to every emotion she carried had enriched her life.

And being able to revisit, examine, and honestly express the feelings she had been too ashamed to show her single mother—who had sacrificed so much to raise her—was almost intoxicating.

That was probably why she was so good at analyzing characters.

She loved researching characters in every possible way, never resting for even a minute or a second until she understood them completely.

“Ms. Jung Ga-yoon.”

A member of the audition staff called her name, sounding almost apologetic.

So Yul-hee came out smiling, apparently satisfied with her audition.

Both the staff and So Yul-hee already seemed to view Jung Ga-yoon as the loser.

The result hadn’t even been decided yet.

How disappointing.

At that moment, Jung Ga-yoon deliberately loosened her posture and began whistling.

Wheee—whistle! Whee—whistle!

Starting her performance before even entering the audition room could probably be passed off as the boldness of an unknown actress.

She intended to pour everything she had into this audition.

Even if failing meant taking one step closer to death, she would have no regrets.

Uncrossing her legs, Jung Ga-yoon stood up, casually clasped her hands behind her back, and entered the audition room.

So Yul-hee’s expression hardened.

As Jung Ga-yoon passed by, So Yul-hee turned around and watched her walk away.

“……”

“Wow.”

The explosive energy Jung Ga-yoon released made the staff of Whistle and So Yul-hee’s manager gasp involuntarily.

They rubbed their arms unconsciously as goosebumps rose across their skin.

Whee—whistle! Whee—whistle!

Seong Jin-woong, the protagonist of Whistle, felt a chill creep up the back of his neck when he heard the whistling coming from outside the door.

Jung Ga-yoon entered with her hands behind her back.

Her eyes were completely expressionless.

She looked around.

Then, at some point, her eyes quietly lit up as though she had spotted her prey.

Whistle!

It was obvious that she was putting emotion into even something as simple as a whistle.

It sounded almost like she was calling someone.

Or perhaps like an excited cry after discovering something interesting.

But the important thing was this:

With just that one whistle, every judge who had been satisfied with So Yul-hee’s audition immediately shifted their attention to Jung Ga-yoon.

The audition script was short.

A conversation with Detective Ha Ji-hyeok, the protagonist.

Jung Ga-yoon approached with light, quiet steps as though she had spotted someone she knew.

Then she stopped.

Suddenly, she leaned her face toward the camera.

“Did you find it?”

Everyone watching the monitor flinched as though they themselves had been asked the question.

There was no staff member in the room to act opposite her.

That had been Yang Bo-hyeon’s idea.

He wanted to see how deeply each actress had analyzed and immersed herself in the character.

Seong Jin-woong was watching the monitor.

Jung Ga-yoon was looking at him.

Their eyes met.

She’s incredibly focused.

Her expression was blank, and she did not blink even once.

He instinctively drew back.

Even through the screen and from a considerable distance, he could feel the pressure of her presence.

To an audience that knew nothing, it would look as though she were simply treating the camera as her scene partner.

But to anyone who already knew she was the culprit, the insane curiosity hidden in her eyes felt painfully real, as if she were asking the question directly to them through the screen.

“I found it. A clue.”

Her dry, pink lips curved smoothly upward.

The culprit’s arrogance—If you can’t find it, I’ll just drop a clue for you—had been transformed into the smile of someone who had discovered an important clue to her sister’s death.

A shiver ran through them.

Beside him, Seong Jin-woong could hear Yang Bo-hyeon scribbling furiously, as though the performance had suddenly given him an idea.

He could not recover from the shock.

Jung Ga-yoon continued.

“I heard you’re famous for solving even cold cases.”

To someone watching Whistle for the first time, the gleam in her eyes would look like anger toward the culprit.

To someone who knew Choi Mi-so’s true identity, it would look like she was enjoying the thrill.

It was the kind of performance that would feel completely different to a first-time viewer and someone watching the drama again.

“I’ll tell you who killed my sister.”

She looked almost unable to contain her curiosity and excitement over when Ha Ji-hyeok would finally realize who she really was.

“Please find them.”

She delivered the nearly deceptive line with heartbreaking sincerity.

The timing of her breathing was incredible.

Her ability to manipulate the audience’s emotions through the camera was astonishing.

How could she create such a contradictory feeling?

Seong Jin-woong could only stare, his mouth slightly open.

“Shall we vote?”

There were five judges.

Writer Yang Bo-hyeon, Director Park Hae-gang, and Seong Jin-woong, the lead actor.

One representative from Butterfly, the production company, and one representative from the OTT platform Netplay.

Yang Bo-hyeon and Seong Jin-woong chose Jung Ga-yoon based purely on her acting.

The representatives from Butterfly and Netplay, however, thought for a long time before raising their hands for So Yul-hee.

“Director Park, you didn’t raise your hand.”

The Butterfly employee raised an eyebrow toward Director Park as if sending him a silent signal.