Anyway—I should call it spirit.
The team leader stared at Mooyoung, momentarily at a loss for words.He had seen countless web drama auditions before, but never an answer like this.
"...That's quite the resolve."
And those sincere eyes—Even though he was an actor, there wasn't a trace of pretense. Just pure honesty.
The other contestants sitting beside him sneered inwardly.
'Why's he acting like that?''Unbelievable. If he does that up front, what does that make the rest of us?'
Honestly, quite a few people were there with a lighthearted attitude—Some just for the experience, others because it sounded fun.
It was natural; web dramas were often treated more lightly than TV dramas.
'If the CEO saw this, he'd flip.'
But right now, everyone in the company was staking everything on this project.This wasn't the time to play around—they needed people willing to go all in.
"Well, then. Let's see what you've got. Here."
He could already imagine his boss freaking out about someone with this kind of attitude.
"Please act out the script I'm handing you now. After that, do a free performance.Keep it under three minutes total."
The team leader signaled to an assistant. The A4 paper had a short script written on it.
Mooyoung immediately recognized it as a scene from the upcoming production.
"Starting with number 76."
[Alley / N][A student enters, lifting the tent flap of a street stall.][Student: (with a face exhausted by fatigue) Hello. Are you open?][Owner: Have a seat. What can I get you?][Student: (handing over a 5,000 won bill) Just give me the most popular thing for this much. But no tteokbokki or sundae. Something adults eat.][Owner: (puzzled) What do adults eat?][Student: (with a slightly irritable tone) Shouldn't you be the one who knows that, boss?]
Since the whole performance had to fit into three minutes, it was certainly short.Mooyoung quickly scanned the lines and grasped the key points.
First thing—"N."That meant "Night." Day scenes were marked with D (Day).
Night. Street stall. Student. Perfect.
He immersed himself in an instant and began, voice faint and weak, as if forcing out each syllable.
"...Hello. Are you open?"
"...!"
Just a moment ago, his voice had been light and pleasant—but now it sounded torn and coarse, like sand scraping together.
'What was that just now?''How did his voice change like that?''Th-that startled me.'
Before the staff could murmur, Mooyoung continued seamlessly.
"Just give me the most popular thing for this much. But no tteokbokki or sundae. Something adults eat."
He slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again.A small motion—but it conveyed everything.
A weary high schooler's night. If he's asking if they're open, it must be really late.Or maybe it's his first time at a street stall. Why did he come here?What kind of life did this kid live…?
It was as if a universe burst open in Mooyoung's mind.He could see the life of this character from every angle—and feel it as if it were his own.
Everything happened instinctively, unconsciously.
"...Shouldn't you be the one who knows that, boss?"
The line slipped out with a surge of rebellious emotion.Mooyoung bowed his head slightly.
The gentle boyish look was gone—only a student worn out by life remained.
"Uh, now please do your free—"
"Sorry."
The staff member holding the stopwatch tried to speak,but Mooyoung flowed naturally into the next line.
"I—I was just tired, that's all."
He wiped his eyes with his palm, muttering softly.Everyone could only stare blankly, jaws hanging open.
'Wait… he's continuing the script?'
A complete possession.He had fully melted into the character.
Mooyoung wiped away a tear and gazed ahead blankly.He could almost feel the warmth of the street stall.The steam, the boiling broth, the orange glow of the lights—
"I was curious, you know? Why people drink out here instead of in proper bars.What's so special about this place... But now that I'm here, I get it.It's warm."
A faint smile touched his lips.
He seemed to listen to someone invisible, responding hoarsely:
"—Sure. Then I'll have that. Make it really spicy. Yeah.It's just been one of those days. Too much stress—it finally burst."
Mooyoung muttered calmly, then pressed his lips shut and looked at the team leader.
One second. Two. Three...
Time ticked on, but the room stayed utterly silent.
"Hasn't the time ended?"
"Ah—oh! I-I'm sorry!"
The assistant flinched, startled by Mooyoung's words.Had he actually kept track of the time himself?
The stopwatch read over three minutes and twenty-five seconds.The assistant glanced nervously at the team leader.
"That's all," Mooyoung said.
"W-wait. Hold on."
When contestant #77 started to rise, the team leader motioned for him to sit again.Mooyoung's cheeks were slightly flushed from the emotional heat.
"Your free acting—was that a continuation of the script?"
"Yes, that's right."
"You imagined that yourself?"
The team leader twirled his pen as he asked.
It wasn't that the script was by some top-tier writer or anything—no need to worry about leaks. He was just curious.
'It was pretty similar, right?''Yeah. Even if the lines were different, the tone and development matched.'
No one could explain how he had managed to grasp the unwritten parts so perfectly.
As the staff whispered among themselves, Mooyoung rolled his eyes slightly.
"...Is there a problem?"
"No, no! Please, go ahead."
At the team leader's wave, he spoke carefully.
"Well, for starters, it's not common for a student to visit a street stall at night. That alone tells us this kid had a really tough day."
Slowly, the life of the character began to flow from Mooyoung's lips.
"When he greets the owner and asks if they're open, I felt he was a rather mature kid. He's exhausted and slips into irritation for a moment, but it's clear he'd immediately feel sorry about it."
That made sense—most students wouldn't start by asking, 'Are you open?' when entering a stall.
"When he says to give him only 5,000 won's worth instead of saying 'I'll have a bit of everything,' it showed he wasn't well off. But in a way, that hardship probably made him grow up faster too."
In that brief time, Mooyoung had completely dissected the character based only on the short script.
The team leader leaned forward, fully absorbed.
"And then?"
"...When he says he wants something 'adults eat.' It reminded me of when I was around that age."
The time just before becoming an adult.
He'd been so tired of everything that he just wanted to escape—to become an adult as fast as possible.
And so, his attention naturally turned to things he considered belonging to adults.
"—So I imagined a day when this character didn't want to go home. He impulsively walks into a street stall—something that feels both unfamiliar and like an adult's world."
"The spicy food? He asked for it extra spicy."
"Because nothing beats that for stress."
Back then, Mooyoung had lived on spicy food every day, overwhelmed by exam stress.
"I especially liked fire chicken ramen," he added lightly, as if it were nothing.
He described his character analysis so casually that the staff next to the team leader let out a laugh of admiration.
"You shouldn't be acting, you should be writing. Or maybe doing film critique."
"I'm not talented in those areas. But thank you."
"It's like you're possessed. How do you come up with this stuff so naturally?"
The staff muttered, clicking his tongue. His analysis and pacing were flawless.
And the fact that he happened to mention fire chicken ramen—which was one of their product placements—was uncanny.
When coincidences pile up, people call it fate.
The team leader felt something almost like divine revelation.
"You've got great instincts. Sharp observation and imagination. How long have you been acting? Would this be your first official role if you're cast?"
He had his entire body turned toward Mooyoung now, speaking with genuine interest.
"Yes, that's right."
"Most of the filming happens at night. That okay?"
"Ahem."
The staff coughed awkwardly at the team leader's directness—there were still applicants #77 to #80 waiting.
The team leader quickly added, smoothing things over:
"It's a question for everyone. No issues, right?"
"Ah, y-yes."
"No problem."
They answered, though their expressions were stiff.Who wouldn't feel bitter after that performance?
'Ugh. Seriously. Annoying.''Why'd he have to go first?''It's over for the rest of us.'
There was no chance left. The atmosphere had already tilted beyond recovery.
Mooyoung thought for a moment about his schedule, then nodded.
"I'm fine with night shoots."
Since his dorm closed at 11 p.m. and reopened at 6 a.m.,he figured he could just stay out all night if needed.
For someone counting on a stroke of pollen-like luck, such things weren't an issue.
"Good."
The team leader's lips curved upward, clearly pleased.
He began marking Mooyoung's application with big stars—scribble, scribble.
So that's what the CEO meant.
Jo Miyoung had said, with absolute confidence, that a gem of a kid would show up.
And now, here he was—talent, looks, and instinct all in one.
"Alright then, number 77, your turn."
The team leader gestured to move things along—they'd already spent too long on Mooyoung.
The auditions resumed, but… the result was obvious.
Anyway—
The contestants, still haunted by Mooyoung's performance, muttered inwardly:
Anyway—
The staff already looked like they'd made up their minds—the first episode's supporting role was practically decided.
What followed was a perfunctory blur of acting and routine questions.
'That was fun. I think I did pretty well, right? Hehe.'
Only Mooyoung, blissfully unaware of the undercurrent, smiled brightly—wondering what kind of good fortune this "pollen luck" would bring next.