Aura of a Genius Actor Chapter 44

Chapter 44 - The Presence Was Overwhelming

༺ The Presence Was Overwhelming ༻

 

  “Really… should we shoot it now?”

 

  “We should do it when we’re in the mood!” 

 

  “What about the costumes? The camera? The lighting?”

 

  “We have white practice suits in the studio. Seryeon will do the basic makeup, and I’ll shoot hand-held (a method of shooting while holding the camera with one’s hand). We just need to bring a couple of tungsten lights. The director can hold the reflector, haha.”

 

  Director Choi easily answered Seryeon’s question.

 

  At first, it seemed like nonsense… but the atmosphere gradually ripened.

 

  “Oh, it does sound fun. But will the video quality be decent?”

 

  “It won’t be brightly caught since it’s at night. And after all, it’s a dreamy scene. We can apply effects and adjust it during editing.”

 

  “Hmm… even if it’s lacking, it’s worth trying to shoot once.”

 

  Director Ki agreed as well.

 

  This time, Yoomyeong asked.

 

  “What about the location?”

 

  “There’s a spot I’ve kept in mind for a night view of cherry blossoms. It’s a location that’s only good until this year.”

 

  “Why?”

 

  “There’s redevelopment going into that neighborhood. It’s a place I’ve wanted to shoot at least once, so this worked out well.”

 

  The conversation rapidly progressed.

 

  Yoomyeong and Seryeon decided to return to the practice room to prepare costumes and makeup, while the director and cinematographer prepared to bring the sub cameras and portable lighting.

 

  Both had been drinking, so they reluctantly recruited the sleeping assistant director to drive for them.

 

  An hour later, they arrived at a neighborhood where evacuation had been completed, and not a soul was in sight.

 

  There, a giant cherry tree stood tall.

 

  It was a weeping cherry tree, with branches drooping like a birch. Each branch gracefully bore clusters of pure white blossoms, like stars falling at night. 

 

  For a moment, everyone was lost for words at its mystique.

 

  “Wow…”

 

  “How old do you think this tree is?”

 

  “It must be well over 50 years old. They used to call it ‘the General’ in this neighborhood.”

 

  “It’s so beautiful…”

 

  “Take a good look. They say it’s going to be transplanted to the private property of a chaebol family, so this view will also end this year.”

 

  After gazing dazedly at the tree for a while, they began to set up.

 

  Conveniently, it was a full moon and the moon was shining brightly in the sky. 

 

  They only needed a little additional lighting. 

 

  Hwaran and Phantom, dressed in pure white practice outfits, donned their ballet shoes and stood facing each other under the cherry tree.

 

  The ground was covered with a pink carpet of fallen petals.

 

  The director played the music.

 

  It was the music from when Giselle and Albrecht fell in love.

 

  “Don’t worry about the sound; we’ll dub (record separately and insert during editing) it later. Just naturally become Hwaran and Phantom and move. Feel free to talk, to dance… Just go with the flow.”

 

  Unlike usual, Seryeon moved first.

 

  She appeared wholly intoxicated by the glass of beer and the moonlit atmosphere.

 

  “Ahahaha—”

 

  Bursting into clear laughter, she grasped Yoomyeong’s wrist and led him. Yoomyeong, who was following, was already immersed in acting as the Phantom and had an awkward expression.

 

  “Here, it’s my favorite place. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

 

  Hwaran, fully embracing the freshness of spring, looked up at Phantom with sparkling eyes.

 

  Color slowly tinted Phantom’s irises.

 

  “Um- hmmm—”

 

  Seryeon, humming softly, began to dance to her humming.

 

  It was pure.

 

  Even though she usually emitted an air of jealousy, competitiveness, and desire as a ballerina, her passion was devoutly pure when the music started and she danced.

 

  Touched by that transparency, the Phantom, whose twisted heart was touched, gazed directly into her eyes and, with his own hands, removed his mask. 

 

  Even though he had been exposed before, this was the first time he willingly took off his mask. 

 

  ‘She will run away.’

 

  As the Phantom prepared to sneer, imagining the sight of her screaming and fleeing…

 

  She met his gaze and smiled brightly without wavering.

 

  “Would you like to dance with me?” 

 

  Those were the words Phantom had extended to Hwaran at their first meeting.

 

  The God of ballet had chosen her.

 

  To her, his grotesque face was meaningless.

 

  She, who was devoted to ballet, loved it regardless of its beauty or its ugliness.

 

  To her, the Phantom and ballet were entities of equal standing.

 

  Ah…

 

  Their hands clasped.

 

  Led by Hwaran’s hand, he stood beneath the tree and tilted his neck to look up. 

 

  Then, the wind blew.

 

  “Close-up! Close-up!”

 

  The fallen petals and those lifted from the ground swirled around Phantom’s body.

 

  It was a dreamlike scene.

 

  ‘I thought that the only beautiful thing was ballet…’

 

  The Phantom, who captured a petal in his palm, lowered his gaze to Hwaran.

 

  The beautiful thing was…

 

  His gaze went wide for a moment.

 

  In the eyes fixed on Hwaran, there was no longer any objectivity.

 

  * 

 

  “Wow. This is legendary. I must really be a genius.”

 

  The next day on the set.

 

  The cinematographer, who was monitoring Hwaran and Phantom’s dance scene from the previous night, was intoxicated with self-praise.

 

  Even after hastily wrapping up the shoot and having an extra drink before parting ways, the cinematographer Choi, with his face puffy and bearing the remnants of a hangover, had the corners of his mouth lifted high.

 

  “I want to see it, too.” 

 

  Director Ki leaned in to look.

 

  “Should we continue shooting while being drunk from now on, Director Ki?”

 

  “…That’s a valid argument. I will approve the expenses if you submit the receipts for the beer you consumed during shooting.”

 

  Listening to the director’s words, which were accepted with a face too serious to be joking, Seryeon snickered quietly.

 

  “So Director Ki can be fun sometimes, too.”

 

  “He must be serious.”

 

  Yoomyeong also replied this way, letting out a quiet chuckle.

 

  While they were in the midst of preparing, Moon Soojin, Seryeon’s stand-in, approached them.

 

  “Uh… isn’t this you, brother?”

 

  What Soojin was holding out was the April issue of <University Tomorrow>. On the cover, the sheepishly smiling face of Yoomyeong was prominently featured.

 

  “Ah… yes, it is me. Move it away from my sight, please. I can’t stand looking at it.” 

 

  “Wow— I thought only extraordinary people got to be cover models for <University Tomorrow>. And here you are, right in front of me.”

 

  “I’m too ordinary to be shooting something like that…”

 

  “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re amazing too, brother!”

 

  The laughter around them burst forth as they watched Soojin, whose face quickly turned red, waving her hands. The atmosphere on the set was incredibly warm and friendly, so much so that any previous reservations about participating due to a myriad of complicated circumstances seemed almost laughable.

 

  However, once they got into the shoot, the story changed.

 

  “Cut— let’s go again.”

 

  “Cut— one more time.”

 

  “Cut— ah… um…”

 

  It was already the 30th take in a single shot. 

 

  Director Ki’s meticulousness was intensifying by the day. The expectations placed on Yoomyeong were particularly excessive.

 

  Watching the accumulating takes, the assistant director was curious about what the director was trying to achieve. In his eyes, every shot was an OK cut. 

 

  “I’m sorry for not giving you precise directions. Your acting is good, but something is missing… I’m not quite sure what it is, either…”

 

  “No, it’s my fault. I’ll try harder.” 

 

  “No… Don’t work harder!”

 

  “Sorry…?”

 

  Director Ki slapped his knee as if he finally understood.

 

  “I know what it is. Your presence is too strong.”

 

  “What?”

 

  This kind of critique was a first for Yoomyeong in his entire acting career, both in the past and present. His expression wavered.

 

  “In this scene, Hwaran is doing well in Giselle Act 1 but struggling in Act 2, and Phantom is showing a sample, right?”

 

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

 

  “What Phantom is teaching is not so much about movements or beauty, but… about bleakness.”

 

  Giselle Act 2.

 

  It was the part where Giselle goes mad and dies upon discovering Albrecht’s betrayal.

 

  She becomes a ‘Wili’, the ghost of a virgin who died without realizing love.

 

  The reason why <Giselle> is considered a benchmark to gauge the depth of a ballerina also lies here. While Giselle in Act 1 is a ‘lively’ village maiden character, she becomes a ‘lifeless’ ghost in Act 2.

 

  The artistry of a ballerina, who manages to express both of these dramatically different character traits, is a viewing point.

 

  “I agree with that. I tried to express a sort of desolation in my own way, but is it insufficient?”

 

  “It’s impeccable for a human. But because you’re Phantom…” 

 

  Ah.

 

  “We’ll adjust it in editing, but I want to see a Phantom who dances beautifully, almost to the point where one might wonder, ‘Is this a real ghost?’—blurry but stunningly beautiful, something no human can match.” 

 

  Yoomyeong forgot to reply.

 

  In this life… he never thought that it would be necessary to reduce his presence in order to act.

 

  “Please… give me some time.”

 

  “It might be my greed. In fact, if another actor had achieved this much, I would have been satisfied…” 

 

  “…No. Please give me about two weeks.” 

 

  “Alright. Don’t push yourself too hard.” 

 

  The filming of that scene was postponed.

 

  A significant homework assignment had fallen into Yoomyeong’s lap. It was truly ironic.

 

  * 

 

  Haaa…

 

  Yoomyeong clutched his head.

 

  ‘This is difficult.’

 

  First of all, what Yoomyeong was trying to embody was his self from his previous life.

 

  A person who was so severely lacking in presence that he was almost like a spirit.

 

  However, that person always floundered to radiate a presence; he had never made an effort to contain it.

 

  ‘If emission is possible, then contraction should be possible, too.’

 

  Miho had said that.

 

  Even though it was the same presence, one’s own presence was said to be a dynamically smoldering one.

 

  Thinking about those words in reverse meant that contracting his presence was not impossible…

 

  Yoomyeong gazed at himself in the mirror.

 

  ‘It seems to be working a bit… but not as much as I thought…’

 

  The end of the two weeks was fast approaching. 

 

  Throughout that period, Yoomyeong had dedicated all his time to this particular issue except for filming and the bare minimum of sleep. However, he still hadn’t produced satisfactory results.

 

  The more he mulled over Director Ki’s words, the truer they seemed.

 

  That part should overwhelmingly showcase the difference between a human ballerina and the Phantom.

 

  ‘With the help of editing…’

 

  However, he wanted to enact it through acting as much as possible.

 

  This part vividly revealed the characteristics of the role of the ‘Phantom.’

 

  Swoosh— 

 

  Miho was curled up on the bed, licking its fur.

 

  Yoomyeong shot a glance in that direction.

 

  If it was a matter of presence and vitality, a definite pro was right there. Although he tried to somehow figure it out on his own, he was now out of time.

 

  Even if it meant making a deal…

 

  Just as he thought that far, Miho abruptly lifted its head.

 

  Yoomyeong was slightly startled.

 

  {It’s not going well, kyung?}

 

  “Huh? Uh… Yeah.”

 

  {It won’t be possible, kyung.}

 

  “What?”

 

  {The minimum presence or vitality essential for maintaining life can’t be controlled. That’s about 20 per person.}

 

  “Re…ally?”

 

  {And you also can’t control the presence I gave you. In other words, from your original presence of 29 and excluding the presence needed to sustain life, there are only 9. That’s all the presence you can control.}

 

  “Huh? But didn’t you say that my presence is dynamically smoldering? Wasn’t I controlling that too?”

 

  Yoomyeong didn’t understand and asked back. 

 

  Then, Miho pondered briefly and recited a spell.

 

  {Miniature (a technique for creating a special model similar to the real thing).}

 

  A small, silver sphere separated from Miho’s body, floated up lightly and turned into the form of a small human. 

 

  Yoomyeong admired Miho’s amazing abilities as always and kept an eye on the figure.

 

  {This is you. Your presence of 29 is enveloping you.}

 

  A thin, red membrane appeared around the silver human.

 

  {Then, add to it the 27 presence I gave you.}

 

  A blue membrane was layered on and they mixed, gently undulating together.

 

  {When you act from here…}

 

  Among the swaying energies, a part of the red presence began to dance. It surged and swayed like a wave, and occasionally burst with a pop.

 

  {It makes your presence seem much larger, see?}

 

  Yoomyeong numbly nodded his head at the dynamic spectacle.

 

  {Now, let’s try killing off that presence.}

 

  A part of the red presence coiled its tail and penetrated into the silver figure.

 

  However, the majority of the red and overlaid blue presence remained unaffected, swirling around the figure. 

 

  The overall size of the presence had slightly decreased, but it was not a significant change.

 

  {This is the current state. As I said, you can’t control the presence I gave you and the presence needed to sustain life. The method of gathering the rest of the presence… it seems you’ve already mastered it.}

 

  “So… no matter how much I practice, there’s no way to suppress my presence more than this?”

 

  {That’s right.}

 

  “Isn’t there… some way?”

 

  Yoomyeong bit his lip.

 

  What Miho just said meant that even if he practiced, he couldn’t reduce his presence below the 46 left after limiting his presence to 9. 

 

  It also meant that, at least in this kind of acting, he would be inferior to a typical actor.

 

  Apart from the Phantom, would there be no other roles that required this kind of acting in the future? 

 

  This… was problematic.

 

  {The method is… difficult.}

 

  “Difficult means… there is a way, right?”

 

  {If I transfer my control of the presence I gave you, you can manage it. However, that would be too great a loss for me.}

 

  “Please explain in detail.”

 

  {Although I shared my presence with you, I did not transfer the control. For example, if you were to suddenly die, the presence I gave you would return and belong to me. However… if I transfer the control entirely, the presence completely becomes yours, and there would be no way for me to retrieve it in case of an emergency.} 

 

  Considering what he heard, it was indeed something Miho would be reluctant to do.

 

  But Yoomyeong was also desperate.

 

  “So, if I do something for you… can you transfer the control? ‘Difficult’ means that there are possible trading conditions…”

 

  At that, Miho’s eyes sparkled brightly.

 

  “Get an additional 3 presence from me.”

 

  “3 presence?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Aura of a Genius Actor

Aura of a Genius Actor

Score 9.99
Status: Completed Native Language: Korean
[Winner of the 5th Korea Web Novel Contest] He cast his very being into a life of acting, only to go unrecognized.   But now, his life begins anew

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