Top Star by Luck

Chapter 122

Kim Tak.

When thinking of that three-syllable name, it was hard to associate it with a good image, even out of politeness.

‘Frivolous, thoughtless, unnecessarily loud. Always interfering in others’ business as if wanting attention, failing to live up to his looks.’

One might call him a typical attention-seeking character.

For someone like Lee Min Ki, who preferred a calm and composed atmosphere, it was a personality that was hard to get along with from the start.

Maybe that was why he viewed him through a tinted lens.

A very dark tinted lens.

[Hey, what's with that meal? Ah, you like cup noodles! Guess I'll have cup noodles today too.]

When he was eating cup noodles for lunch because he couldn’t afford more, Kim Tak suddenly approached and started a conversation that felt more like picking a fight.

[What was that acting earlier? What were you thinking with that? Hey, where are you going? Let’s talk it out together.]

After a stressful acting class, Kim Tak came and provoked him.

[Oh wow, you walk here every day? You must really like walking. Well, public transportation is inconvenient, isn’t it?]

Even though he himself rode taxis every day as if money magically appeared, he mocked him for walking to the academy.

It was an overall annoying experience.

Even now, just thinking about it made his head feel noisy.

But.

If there was one thing Lee Min Ki had realized since returning to life.

‘At least he wasn’t malicious.’

There wasn’t a single ounce of malice in him.

He discovered this after not avoiding him and having a proper conversation.

Kim Tak was someone who approached him with pure goodwill, though his words lacked refinement.

From a negative perspective, his personality could be seen as attention-seeking.

But if you looked at it from a slightly different angle, like turning a glass 30 degrees.

Yes.

‘He worked hard to talk to someone like me, even when I ignored him every time.’

It was a trait of being sociable.

The problem was that he didn’t gauge others' moods enough.

Now, that same Kim Tak was performing an acting scene that lingered in Lee Min Ki’s memories.

“I’m still a college student!! Don’t go!!! Who’s going to support my living expenses if you leave, Dad? There’s still loan debt left!”

It was under the concept of a brat who constantly troubled his parents.

This was what Kim Tak had prepared as a task for his acting class, categorized under [Melodramatic Acting].

It remained vividly in Lee Min Ki’s memory.

Because.

‘I can’t forget this.’

It was the first acting performance he had witnessed after returning to the past.

At the time, he had been surprised by how subpar the acting was.

Though the role was supposed to be of a rebellious child expressing sorrow, all he saw was just a rebellious child.

But now, it felt a bit different.

“Really… why are you leaving already…. You should at least say something…. I wanted to get a job quickly and buy you a car….”

There was a clear sense of sorrow.

Within Kim Tak’s raw voice, there was a trembling depth.

It was in the details.

Kim Tak had learned how to express more in his acting.

‘He’s improved a lot.’

Improvement.

That was what Kim Tak had achieved over the past two years.

While Lee Min Ki had been actively working as a professional actor, Kim Tak had been diligently practicing as an aspiring actor.

Looking back, it was true.

‘He never missed a single weekly practice.’

Even when others showed signs of wanting to skip practice due to unavoidable circumstances, Kim Tak never questioned it and practiced alone.

[Tak, your breathing is too frivolous. How about playing Go in your free time?]

Even after being relentlessly criticized by Kim Ah Sung, he didn’t question or argue.

[Aaaargh!]

He screamed in frustration but continued with the grueling training.

The result was this.

“I got a scholarship, so why are you leaving today? You should at least tell me I did well.”

Improvement.

Consistent effort eventually brought progress to Kim Tak.

There’s a saying in a certain comic.

The god of acting is a stingy miser, giving development to the point that even one’s parents won’t recognize it, only after practicing until one’s voice cracks.

Kim Tak had tirelessly gathered even the smallest bits of progress.

“It’s done.”

And he had built a mountain.

The specks had become a towering peak.

‘He’s good.’

That thought crossed his mind.

He even felt like he wanted to work on a project with Kim Tak.

It was a feeling he hadn’t been able to muster for the three participants before him.

Although, he would still prefer to keep his distance from him outside the set.

Lee Min Ki concluded his evaluation and opened his mouth.

“Well done.”

“Whew.”

“It’s an interesting performance. This was from an old piece, [Rebellious Son Goes to College], right? A really old work.”

“Wow, you know it! I watched it so much because it was so fun. It’s really a good one.”

Kim Tak responded in a pleased tone, sounding carefree as ever.

Lee Min Ki shifted his gaze to the side.

“I’d like to hear your thoughts, Director Seo.”

“Hmm.”

Director Seo Jung Woo scratched his chin as if in thought.

In truth, he was someone who had never really had a proper conversation with Kim Tak.

Even with Lee Min Ki, their interactions were primarily work-related, with little to no personal encounters.

Such a person now spoke.

“I can’t say there are no shortcomings. There’s a lot of unnecessary embellishment.”

“……”

Was this a negative opinion?

For a moment, Lee Min Ki thought it was a shame.

“But there’s also a distinct sense of individuality. He seems like someone who would be interesting to watch on screen.”

“……!”

It was a positive opinion.

Despite the heavy atmosphere, Kim Tak couldn’t hide his delight and smiled brightly.

“I’ve honed my craft for the judges!”

“……!”

Hearing this, Lee Min Ki’s eyes widened.

‘Kim Tak used a four-character idiom?’

It felt intellectual.

From someone who lived life in the rawest, most animalistic way, Kim Tak’s words carried an air of sophistication for once.

Had he developed not only in acting but also mentally?

Just as Lee Min Ki thought this.

“No, wait… ‘absolute focus…’? ‘Absolute diligence…’? ‘Righteous effort…’? Was that right?”

It wasn’t.

Like a spring breeze passing by, the momentary air of intellect vanished as quickly as it came.

“Hehe.”

Even one of the judges, who had been quietly scribbling on paper, chuckled softly.

Now I roughly understand everyone’s opinions.

Lee Min Ki pretended to jot something down in his notebook and then spoke.

“I just have one more question. With skills like yours, I think you could have applied to other places. Have you considered that?”

He was genuinely curious.

‘It didn’t seem like he auditioned much in the past two years.’

Even though he was curious, he had held back.

Although they were once peers, as a now-successful actor, discussing auditions with Kim Tak, who remained an aspirant, might have felt stressful for the latter.

Additionally, Lee Min Ki didn’t want to mix personal matters with Kim Tak too much, so he hesitated.

Still, the moment felt like a good opportunity, so he asked.

Kim Tak stood still for a moment, then broke into a broad smile, thumping his chest as he said.

“Hyung… The actor went to JC, so I have to go to JC too!”

Ah, so that’s why.

What if he doesn’t make it?

Who knows what he’s thinking, but somehow, that kind of personality isn’t entirely unpleasant.

Lee Min Ki smiled and said.

“Alright, we’ve seen enough. Please exit through the door on the right.”

The private auditions continued from then on.

About ten candidates were selected by JC Entertainment’s team.

And the three people Lee Min Ki specifically requested: Kim Tak, Yoo Seon Ah, and Kim Ji Hwan.

Among the remaining two.

“I’ve thought about it every day. What should true journalism do? How should it view the world?”

Yoo Seon Ah, unsurprisingly, did well.

“I’m no longer proud of being a journalist.”

She had always been skilled.

But she had been unluckily assigned to poor auditions in the past.

There seemed to be a reason for that.

‘Seon Ah was really good, but her style lacked intensity.’

Among active actors, it was rare to find someone with her level of technical mastery.

But still.

Why had Yoo Seon Ah fallen into the category of a long-time aspirant?

If anyone understood the detailed reasons, it was Lee Min Ki.

‘She was overly immersed in “good” acting.’

“Good” acting.

In other words, she had become too fixated on flaw-free performances.

For any aspiring actor, this was one of the most typical traps to fall into.

‘Having no flaws can also mean lacking individuality. To put it bluntly, her acting was bland and flavorless.’

This wouldn’t matter for minor roles.

In such cases, being versatile and easy to utilize in various scenarios was an asset.

But talent agencies were looking for something else entirely.

They preferred someone with a distinct character, even if they had some flaws.

[Hmm, how should I describe Seon Ah’s acting?]

Even Kim Ah Sung, the trainer, had pointed this out.

[She’s definitely good. Really good. The best, honestly. Among all the aspirants I know, her acting skills are top-notch. But… hmm… when I think back after watching her performance, nothing really sticks in my mind.]

That was it.

Yoo Seon Ah was someone who didn’t leave a lasting impression on judges.

Perhaps her high standards matched her skills.

But now.

“Journalists must be righteous. Journalists must be honest. Journalists must be objective. Journalists must be bold.”

Finally, she had found her color.

‘She’s become courageous.’

When did that change happen?

She had shed her “good” acting.

Now, even if she risked being criticized, she could deliver performances that demanded attention.

Suddenly, Lee Min Ki saw a glimpse of Kim Tak in her acting.

‘Ah, I see it now.’

Why hadn’t he realized it before?

Kim Tak had excessive individuality but lacked acting skill.

Meanwhile, Yoo Seon Ah had excellent acting skills but a faint sense of individuality.

The two of them.

In a way, they were like two halves of a whole, complementing each other’s flaws.

‘What’s going on?’

As Lee Min Ki was puzzling over this, Director Seo Jung Woo interjected.

“It’s been rare to find a skilled actress recently, but it seems we’ve discovered one.”

There was no need to see more.

That statement alone said it all.

The moment those words left his mouth, Yoo Seon Ah’s legs seemed to tremble slightly.

Even Lee Min Ki, who had been carefully watching the mood to avoid showing favoritism, smiled softly and said.

“I’d like to act alongside her someday.”

“Thank you!”

Unable to hide her joy, Yoo Seon Ah looked at him as he quietly asked her.

“I’ve been meaning to ask—what kind of thoughts have guided your practice?”

“Hmm.”

At that, Yoo Seon Ah hesitated briefly before answering.

“I’ve been thinking about becoming the best rookie actor, just like you, Actor Lee Min Ki.”

Pfft.

This time, Director Seo Jung Woo couldn’t hold back his laughter.

Her words, while sounding like flattery, were objectively far from it.

“There seem to be a lot of applicants today who admire Actor Lee Min Ki. Don’t you think so?”

“No comment.”

With that light joke, Yoo Seon Ah’s turn came to an end.

Next up was Kim Ji Hwan.

This time, even Lee Min Ki couldn’t help but feel tense.

‘…It’s been a long time.’

Since the Daon scandal, Kim Ji Hwan had practically gone into hiding, even skipping practice.

Honestly, Lee Min Ki thought he’d decline the audition invitation.

Kim Ji Hwan came from a wealthy family, with no shortage of money.

There was no real need for him to endure public criticism and dishonor to cling to acting.

In fact, he wasn’t even desperate for audition opportunities.

In terms of skill, he was more than qualified.

If it weren’t for the Daon incident, talent agencies would have been scrambling to recruit him.

In some ways, even calling him in for an audition could be seen as an insult.

‘The atmosphere feels intense. Will he perform to his potential?’

This doubt briefly crossed Lee Min Ki’s mind.

Then came Kim Ji Hwan’s performance.

“Even if I go far, it’ll only be to Seomyeon.”

From the first line, Lee Min Ki felt a chill of apprehension.

Goosebumps.

Kim Ji Hwan’s performance was on a different level than the other participants.

It wasn’t just about character or technique—it was beyond analysis.

‘He was already good, but now he’s leveled up even more.’

Kim Ji Hwan.

During his time in hiding, he hadn’t let himself stagnate.

He had sharpened himself with a determination to wash away his disgrace.

‘If I let my guard down, he might surpass me.’

Perhaps the fall of Daon had been a catalyst for Kim Ji Hwan’s growth.

His solid backing was gone.

The world no longer looked favorably upon him.

His once-proud career had turned into a badge of shame.

All of this became the fuel for Kim Ji Hwan’s growth as an actor.

“People like us have to live like wild animals. Like beasts. With the mindset that failure in the hunt means death.”

At some point, the room shifted from evaluation to pure admiration.

Two minutes passed in silence as everyone held their breath.

“Well done.”

A third judge, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke.

“I’d like to have a word with you after this.”

To dismiss him as an actor tainted by the Daon scandal would be an understatement—his talent was overwhelming.