As time passed, casting for 'The Temperature of a Meal' started picking up speed.
Each time an actor's name was announced, public interest climbed a little higher.
All kinds of reactions poured out on social media and the communities.
- This casting isn't that strong.
- The supporting cast are pretty famous, though?
- Which makes the leads look kind of weak.
- Is this worth watching?
The comments on news articles were overwhelmingly some version of "the leads are weak."
I swiped through my phone screen and bit my lip a little.
'Hmm... the lead actors are going to be a bit hurt by this...?'
The public evaluates casting on instinct.
That's why, for films and dramas alike, production companies often bear the cost to land a top actor for the lead.
But PD Lee Woo-seok's casting method had always been distinctive.
A style that prioritized sync with the role above name value.
His dramas always drew skeptical reactions early on, but after airing the reaction would flip completely.
Maybe this time too he was aiming for a reversal on viewers who weren't expecting anything.
I set my phone down and sank into thought for a moment.
'But... why hasn't my casting announcement gone up yet?'
Names had been released down to most of the supporting cast, and mine alone was conspicuously missing from the official announcements.
'Are they deliberately adjusting the timing?'
I considered contacting the agency just in case, but they'd already said the plan was to announce it alongside the MZ Vitamin commercial, so this was still a time to wait.
But—
'What will the public's reaction be when my name goes public?'
Without thinking, I scanned through the community comments again.
'Anticipation? Welcome? Or... will they still try to dig up the old controversy?'
My feelings mixed together strangely.
Would I be accepted as a 'new actor' now?
Or would I be called 'the actor who reappeared out of a controversy'?
Ding-dong—
A text alert came in on my phone. It was Ji-ho hyung.
- Eun-yul, the script reading is set for next Thursday.
I looked at the phone screen for a moment, then quietly let out a breath. Only then did it feel like I'd really come back.
'There's no reason to hide it anymore, and no reason to hide. It's time to show them.'
Firming up my resolve, I opened the script on the desk again with force.
The moment I opened it, a familiar sensation seeped in.
The title I'd acquired on set a few days ago, [Veteran Convenience Store Guy Cha Eun-yul].
From the moment I equipped that title, my understanding of the person called Yoo Dae-yeong had noticeably deepened.
I wasn't simply reading letters. The emotion and nuance hidden between the sentences began to show clearly.
Late at night, a convenience store. A counter worn smooth by hands, a fluorescent light blinking at a steady rhythm, even the faint streetlight beyond the window—
And in the middle of that space, a man tidying goods with an expressionless face.
Yoo Dae-yeong.
He'd been alone since childhood.
Raised in an orphanage, he had to take responsibility for his own life the moment he came of age.
A reality no one could take on for him.
A life in which being alone had become familiar.
He lived by himself in a small studio apartment, spending his days working steadily at a convenience store.
On the surface, an indifferent, cold young man.
But that offhand attitude wasn't simple laziness. It was a defense mechanism to keep distance from the world.
The world wasn't only warm.
So he didn't let his feelings show easily.
A person with suppressed emotions packed behind an expressionless face.
That was exactly who Yoo Dae-yeong was.
And then, the convenience store door opened.
Ding-dong.
A customer entering the quiet store.
I knew instinctively.
She was 'Su-hyeon.'
Someone he'd grown up with in his orphanage days.
An existence he couldn't help recognizing at a glance, no matter how much time had passed.
But even having recognized each other, he said nothing.
Neither did she.
Why?
They clearly had memories of laughing and talking together.
A small playground, an old television, a humble space where they'd remembered each other's birthdays.
Back then that was everything, and that was happiness.
But the memories of those days became an uncomfortable name after they grew up.
'From an orphanage.'
Society drew a line easily in front of that word, and for them as adults, the moment their past was found out became the moment they feared most.
So even having recognized each other, they couldn't get the words out.
The only person who remembered those days.
But at the same time, a person who carried the past they most wanted to hide.
Rather than being glad about a reunion after so long, in that wordless moment facing each other, strange emotions would have surfaced.
Gladness and discomfort.
Memories and wounds.
All of it overlapped and ran into silence.
They could have passed by pretending not to know each other, but in that one brief look, old memories seeped through.
And in that awkwardly passing time, the two people's relationship slowly, but unmistakably, begins to move.
A blunt part-timer.
But inside him were a buried past and quiet wounds.
Sketching this scene in my head, I slowly came to understand Yoo Dae-yeong.
'This role isn't a simple convenience store part-timer. He's... a person living with pain inside him.'
"......"
I looked at the script again.
It was different from before.
It was no longer simple writing.
Between the sentences, the emotions hidden inside the stage directions came through clearly.
'(as if indifferent), (expressionless), (flatly)'
That wasn't a lazy attitude, it was a defense meant to keep the world at a distance.
He was a person who wouldn't show emotion, who had made himself cold so his wounds wouldn't be found out.
'Yoo Dae-yeong isn't cold. He's pressing his past down inside that coldness.'
I slowly rose from my seat and went over to the mirror.
My expression in the mirror was changing bit by bit. I let the tension out of my lips and blurred the focus of my eyes. I dropped the strength from my shoulders and reduced my movements.
So that fatigue would seep naturally into even the smallest gesture.
'It's getting closer and closer to the Yoo Dae-yeong I analyzed......'
A figure who looked like he had no will left.
And yet faint emotions were hiding inside it.
Eyes wavering minutely, fingertips hesitating for a beat.
Outwardly indifferent, but with something squirming underneath.
I stared into the mirror.
And then, in that instant—
I got chills.
The person in the mirror was me, and yet didn't feel like me.
The movements were unfamiliar, but not awkward.
They were natural, like someone who had already been living this way for a long time.
The character I'd analyzed in my head and the figure before my eyes overlapped perfectly.
I looked into the mirror for a long while.
But soon an inexplicable sense of wrongness pushed in.
Even though this was a character I ought to be settling into, something was lacking.
The feeling of not being fully immersed.
'Something's missing......'
I looked around.
A tidy practice room, clean lighting, a space where actors rehearse their lines.
'This... isn't a place where Yoo Dae-yeong would be.'
It suddenly hit me that my surroundings were a space utterly removed from the role.
Immersion wasn't completed by analysis alone.
The situation the character is placed in, the emotional line, even the space.
All of it had to line up.
I quietly closed my hand into a fist.
'If my immersion is only this much even here, the script reading could be even harder.'
Anxiety came over me.
But—
"......Hoo."
'No. There's no time to despair.'
I slowly clenched my fist.
The title doesn't guarantee complete immersion.
In that case, the part that's lacking is what I have to fill in myself.
I drew a deep breath.
In my head I called up the person called Yoo Dae-yeong once more.
His habits.
His way of speaking.
His thoughts.
I called the emotion up one more time, and made it familiar to my body one more time.
'Not the title. I have to build this with my own acting.'
The title is only a starting point.
How I interpret it and how I make it my own is the real actor's share.
I straightened my posture again.
And I opened the script laid out in front of me once more.
By next week's script reading, I intended to have a 100% finished Yoo Dae-yeong.
Staring into the mirror just as I was, I started practicing again.
***
A week later, the day of the script reading.
My heart started pounding.
My chest had been thumping strangely since I set out, and when I got out of the car I felt my fingertips trembling faintly.
It really had been a long time.
I drew a deep breath.
Moving slowly, I stepped inside the building and saw a guide sign at the entrance.
' Script Reading Room.'
Even as I followed the signs, my head was a tangle.
'It's fine. You prepared enough, didn't you.'
Steadying myself, I kept walking. And at last I reached the reading room.
Inside, several actors and staff were already gathered in twos and threes, talking.
The social time meant to loosen up the mood before a script reading.
It was a familiar scene, but maybe because it had been so long, it felt strange.
I steadied my breath for a moment and slowly took in my surroundings.
On each table sat a name card with the role and the actor's name written on it.
And at the head of the table were the name cards for PD Lee Woo-seok and writer Yoo Ye-jin.
I found the name card with my name on it at one side of the table.
'Cha Eun-yul - as Yoo Dae-yeong.'
The moment I looked at the name card with my name written on it so clearly, a strange emotion welled up from somewhere deep inside.
Excitement, tension, and a little fear.
I slowly stepped up to the chair.
The name card and script laid out in front of me. When my fingertips brushed it lightly, the paper rustled.
Even that trivial sound seemed to come through loud.
'So it's... really starting now.'
I stood quietly in front of my seat. My heart was still beating fast.
'It's fine. I'm ready.'
Slowly taking the chair, I swept my fingertips down the script.
And I looked at the name card once more.
'At last, I'm back as an actor.'
Just then—
"Ah, hello, Cha Eun-yul-ssi."
I turned my head at the familiar voice.
In front of me stood a man whose height made an impression.
The actor Kwon Jeong-ryul.
He'd drawn major attention in his previous work, a historical drama, and in this one he was playing a secondary lead.
He came toward me with a bright expression.
Then he held out a hand lightly and gave a wide smile.
"We finally meet! They really wouldn't tell us who was playing Yoo Dae-yeong."
He said it playfully.
I blanked for a second, then soon smiled lightly and took the handshake.
"Ah, yes. Good to meet you."
I smiled calmly and put out my hand.
I knew better than anyone how important a first impression is.
Kwon Jeong-ryul took the seat beside me and continued, still bright.
"Honestly, I was really curious. PD Lee Woo-seok said he was keeping this casting completely under wraps, so even among us actors we were speculating like crazy, 'Who on earth is Yoo Dae-yeong?'"
I shrugged slightly and laughed.
"It was only confirmed for me recently too. I had no idea it was being kept that hidden."
He nodded, turned a page of the script, then looked up.
"The Yoo Dae-yeong character is pretty intense, isn't he? Doesn't look easy to act."
I thought for a moment, then said calmly,
"You're right. It isn't easy, but he's an appealing character for exactly that reason. I've prepared enough, so I hope I can learn even more on set."
Kwon Jeong-ryul laughed pleasantly and nodded.
"Same here, I look forward to working with you. Let's make something great together."
"Yes, likewise."
It was a short exchange, but there was no awkwardness. If anything, it felt like I was blending in naturally.
The script reading hadn't started yet, but I was already prepared to be in this seat.
Before long the reading room had filled with people.
Not just actors. Countless staff started moving busily, and the place grew crowded.
Some of the waiting actors talked among themselves, and others read their scripts quietly, focused.
Just then, a staff member who looked fairly senior picked up a microphone and spoke.
"All right, everyone please take your seats. We'll begin the reading shortly."
The murmuring noise died down at once. The actors sat one by one, and the staff finished preparations at their own positions.
And at one side of the reading room, several staff were adjusting cameras.
A camera check.
I looked that way without thinking, and felt my heart twitch strangely.
'Ah... I'm still a little uneasy after all......'
Only a few months ago, standing in front of a camera at all had frightened me.
But could I say that trauma had completely disappeared?
I tightened my grip on the script. In practical terms I hadn't actually shot anything yet, or seen a finished result.
I'd done the commercial shoot, but that had happened in an instant.
Having a camera follow me on a real set, and that result being released to the public, I hadn't experienced yet.
And right now—
Just watching a camera being adjusted right in front of my eyes made my heart pound and my fingertips go slightly cold.
'From the looks of this, my trauma hasn't completely disappeared.'
I had no thought of running now.
Even admitting the unease was still there was a step further than the me of the past.
'It's fine. I can overcome this.'
I tightened my grip on the script once more.
I quietly drew a breath and steadied myself again. Just then, a quiet voice came from the seat beside me.