In a small theater located in the countryside.
The employee who had just been answering the phone muttered curses, his expression troubled.
The employee was hesitant to open the waiting room door. There, Joo Mansik was seated, reviewing the script for today's play.
Joo Mansik's calm expression turned into anger within a split second, even before the employee could finish speaking.
"Did he run away again?"
"I'm really in a bind. How many times has this happened now... What should we do?"
"What can we do? These ungrateful leeches... I know they come from far away. I've doubled their appearance fees, and they still do this."
"...Maybe we should consider changing the venue. It seems like the location itself is causing problems."
"Come on. What does the location have to do with it? You know it, too. It started off great. There were no problems."
It wasn't a false statement. Despite being in the countryside, Joo Mansik's theater gained attention soon after its opening. His strategy of working with unknown actors, unlike other theaters' busy casting named actors, worked well.
In the theater world, attracting the audience's attention primarily relied on the name associated with the actors. Once a particular actor was involved, people would book tickets and watch, regardless of the content – a fact Joo Mansik was well aware of.
However, his perspective was a bit different. He believed that elevating the quality of the play depended not on the actors' fame but on how well they embodied their roles and touched the audience's hearts.
He consistently focused on aspiring actors who, despite their talent, remained unnoticed due to the overshadowing presence of named actors in lead roles.
These newcomers poured their passion for the profession into their performances and emotions.
Thanks to Joo Mansik, hidden talents in the industry gradually began to shine.
His theater gained recognition as a venue for discovering hidden gems.
It was a successful start.
However, that didn't last long. Unlike Joo Mansik, who cherished and raised the talents he discovered, the newly acclaimed rookies were more focused on quickly securing a position in a renowned theater in Seoul than taking responsibility for the rural theater that had pushed them forward.
Their dreams ultimately lay in Seoul. The lead actors who gained some attention at Joo Mansik's theater quickly moved to prestigious theaters in Seoul as soon as they felt they had received enough recognition.
Today, the rookie actor with the lead role fled without a second thought when offered an audition by a well-known theater in Seoul.
This was already the third time.
"Ah, damn it, these youngsters are all the same, running off without any gratitude."
Mansik continued swearing, and the apologetic employee sniffed at his nose.
"This time, file for damages. The problem is that the kids are causing issues, but why is it always you, the representative, handling the aftermath?"
"Enough. What money do I have for those who have just stepped into this field? Getting more involved with them will only end up with me being ousted."
A momentary bitterness crossed Mansik's face as he spoke. It was subtle enough that the employee couldn't see it.
With the right mindset, he could quickly quell the controversy stirred up by a few reporters about the sudden popularity. Still, he couldn't just stab them in the back for leaving once they gained some recognition. Mansik was well aware that, like himself, they started their careers hoping for success rather than expecting to become someone's target.
"How much time is left until the performance?"
Mansik, his head wrapped up, asked with suppressed anger.
"There's about five hours left now. But what about the audience? There might be many who are already coming from afar. We should at least go on without the lead actor..."
"Ridiculous. A stage that falls short is absolutely unacceptable. I'd rather send them back."
"What? With this many audience members? This isn't the first time something like this has happened, and the complaints are no joke. I spent the whole day answering calls. I almost died."
The employee, who already knew Mansik's personality through numerous experiences, knew that once he said something like that, there was no changing his mind. In his opinion, it would be easier to proceed with the performance first and then explain and apologize for the absent lead actor later.
Due to the same issue last time, Mansik had to field dozens of angry calls from audience members who had reserved trains and accommodations from afar to watch the play.
In all the time I've known Mansik, he's been someone who takes the theater stage seriously. He believed that putting on an imperfect stage was a lack of courtesy to those who traveled from afar with high expectations.
In return, he took on a corresponding sense of responsibility.
"There's no other choice. Refund the tickets, check the transportation costs and accommodation fees, and send the whole thing to me."
"Is it really necessary to go that far? The losses could be quite substantial..."
"Why are you worrying about that? I'll handle it."
"...Then I'll promptly write an apology on the website."
"With this situation, who will go in there and read that? Check the customer information and send individual messages today. Don't give lengthy explanations about the actor's circumstances; keep it concise. Still, show as much sincerity as possible. Do you understand what I mean?"
Before establishing the theater, Joo Mansik was a respected member of the National Assembly at the age of 45.
Having already achieved a prominent position in politics, Joo Mansik found himself in a state of frustration with the events unfolding in that realm. One by one, those he had trusted had betrayed him, and he was momentarily swept up in the power struggles and manipulations that unfolded daily. Despite his ascent to this position with a sense of integrity, Joo Mansik was ultimately left with a sense of isolation after being implicated in manipulated scandals, and everyone turned their backs on him. Exhausted, he saw his remaining duty as disentangling himself from this dirty political landscape.
Having stepped out of the political arena, Joo Mansik boldly took his first step into establishing a business.
Mansik, who had chosen to forget the past and cleared his mind, believed politics was never a good fit for him, given his inherent nature. Establishing a business seemed like a fresh start for him.
However, even that didn't last long.
Unlike the blatant backstabbing in the political arena, this business world was filled with people who deceived and tricked with smiling faces.
Upon coming to his senses, he realized he was facing the same situation again.
Talented individuals, to whom he had given trust and opportunities, betrayed him overnight. Companies he considered as peers seemed to have eagerly waited for the opportune moment, pushing for more favorable contract terms just before finalizing agreements. The instances of such deceitful actions kept increasing.
They say trust is crucial in business, but what a load of nonsense.
Is the problem with me, or is it with the world?
It was a mess everywhere.
Now, I've grown weary of humanity.
The ambitious venture that Mansik bravely embarked on came to an end in less than a year.
"It's tiresome."
A sense of desolation overwhelmed him. He had nothing left.
No more enthusiasm remained within him. For Mansik, who had to simply endure each day, even staying home aimlessly felt like a disgrace.
Broken and in disarray, he wandered, and his daily routine consisted of sitting alone in places like theaters or cinemas, clearing his mind.
Initially, it was just a way to pass the day as quickly as possible—a somewhat personal method he found to cope. Immersed in a world detached from reality, he could escape from the things that tormented him.
Then, one day, as he sat idly watching a movie as usual, tears unexpectedly welled up in his eyes.
He was taken aback.
Throughout his time among those filthy and vile individuals, he had never once revealed such a broken side of himself. As he wiped away tears, cursing and wondering if anyone would witness this pathetic sight, something new had already taken root in his heart.
How long had it been?
It was the moment when his emotions that had been empty started to stir again.
Only now did Joo Mansik believe he had found what he truly needed to do.
Having scraped together his remaining assets, he was able to establish a theater in the countryside.
It was his last chance.
Perhaps the strategy of starting with inexperienced individuals was never meant to last.
The theater that everyone had abandoned.
Faced with the awkward situation of the employees today, Joo Mansik sent them away first and remained alone.
Sitting in the middle of the empty audience seats, he pondered deeply. As always, he reached up and touched the beam projector hanging from the ceiling.
A recording of a previous play began to play on the screen that, filled the background of the stage.
The lights dimmed, and the curtain that enveloped the stage slowly rose. In front of the breathless audience, the actors' performances continued. As the emotions intensified, the voices of the actors echoed through the theater via the speakers. It wasn't an issue of perception. The audience, captivated by the passionate acting of the rookie actors completely immersed in the stage, remained still, not even a twitch.
"The quality is certainly not bad..."
Was it really an issue with the venue, as the employee suggested? It was a venture begun with confidence, and in the initial months, the efforts seemed to bear fruit.
Yet, once again, it turned out that people were the problem. He hadn't anticipated that the lack of enthusiasm would have such an impact. He thought that simply setting up the theater would solve everything... Believing that if he started with a good heart, good people would naturally come along, he experienced this disappointment several times. What he couldn't give up on were, perhaps, just illusions of his own misguided beliefs.
Mansik was systematically reviewing the issues at hand.
Crunch.
Mansik's eyes, fixed on the screen, turned sideways. Following the sound of the door, there came the sound of footsteps entering. Although it was clearly the presence of a stranger, there was a reason why he intentionally didn't turn his head.
He's here again.
For the past few weeks, there had been a guy loitering around this place at this time.
With hair falling in messy curls, a baby face, and a tall stature. At best, the guy looked like a high school student, but his age didn't match his appearance. He was dressed in dirty construction site work clothes, looking far from his age.
At first, he thought he had mistakenly entered a different building.
However, the next day, and the day after that, every time he found himself alone reviewing the recorded footage, that guy kept hanging around the theater.
Considering his age, he should have been in school, but seeing him loitering around like this every time made it clear he wasn't attending any school. There were no schools around this neighborhood.
Given that it's a rural area, there are usually only construction workers and elderly people around, so unless families come down during holidays, it's rare to see kids in the vicinity. Moreover, seeing a kid covered in dirt like that is even rarer.
Since he wasn't familiar with and wasn't doing anything illegal, there wasn't any need to strike up a conversation or drive him away.
I pretended not to notice a few times. What's amusing is that he didn't even acknowledge my presence. Come to think of it, he wasn't secretly watching from the beginning. The guy confidently occupied a back seat, enjoying the play. Once, our eyes met briefly when he turned around, and his expression seemed to say, "What's your problem?" He quickly refocused on the screen, leaving me puzzled.
Comparing his own constant concern for the boy to the lad's apparent lack of interest in anything other than the play, left him feeling somewhat unjust.
If there was one issue, it was the traces the boy left behind on the theater floor every time he departed. Before leaving for the day, Joo Mansik found himself sweeping away the dust that had settled on the theater floor.
Just before leaving, Joo Mansik locked the door, glanced at a particular spot, and let out a bitter laugh.
"Look at this guy."
A few crumpled bills, dirtied with mud, were wedged in the door crack as if he had enjoyed the play.
"This is quite troublesome..."
Wondering if it was okay to accept this dirty money, Mansik scratched his head. It was an amount that didn't even cover half the ticket price, but since he had received it, Mansik was now unsure of what to do with the boy.
He thought there must be some reasonable story behind it. Perhaps just a runaway teenager who ended up in construction work and dropped some money.
However, Mansik couldn't resist his curiosity today.
In the days of putting up countless plays, there had never been a guest who periodically visited his theater like that. Moreover, showing interest in recorded footage where the proper stage and the actors' faces were not clearly visible—what could be the reason for that?
He was curious. What was that kid, who was somewhat ambiguous as a guest, seeking by repeatedly coming to his theater? Perhaps, overwhelmed by the endless pondering about today's events, the thoughts that refused to unravel, he wanted to divert his attention elsewhere.
Having concluded his thoughts, Joo Mansik raised his arm towards the projector.
Click.
The screen that had been filling the stage disappeared.
The boy in the back, engrossed in the play, unconsciously furrowed his brow. It was just reaching the climax, and what was this... In an attempt to find the source of the issue, the boy finally tore his eyes away from the screen after an hour and looked around the audience.
Huh. Where did he go?
The man who had been sitting in the middle of the audience from the beginning was now nowhere to be seen.
With a puzzled expression, the boy craned his neck for a moment, and then he heard a noise from the back.
"What are you doing, constantly poking around in my theater?"
The boy turned his head.
"..."
The boy weakly pointed outside the theater.
"I'm just passing by."
Even though it was apparent he wasn't asking about that, the boy intentionally responded with an innocent face.
"How old are you that you're always hanging around here instead of being in school?"
"Seventeen. But I don't go to school."
I guess that's how it is. It seemed like I asked something unnecessary.
Mansik let out a cough.
"Ahem. What's your name?"
Mansik asked. It was a moment when the boy, who had been answering readily so far, tightly closed his mouth.
Author's Note90Please respect copyright.PENANAPNWWBgUZIG
90Please respect copyright.PENANAXVgb9G4IZi
Tired of boring inboxes? Spice things up with our bookish newsletter! We'll deliver juicy chapter teasers, behind-the-scenes publishing whispers, and irresistible recommendations straight to your doorstep (well, inbox). Imagine: exclusive early peeks at sizzling new reads, insights from the publishing gurus, and a community of fellow bookworms to fangirl with. Sound tempting? Get your fix now.
90Please respect copyright.PENANAelr8PzEpHe