Top Star by Luck

Chapter 16

“Hehe.”

Lee Min Ki, who had been fully immersed in practice, let out a small laugh.

It wasn’t because something tickled him.

It was the kind of refreshing laugh that naturally came out when he was in an exceptionally good mood.

Hearing this, Yoo Seon Ah asked, as if it was a laugh worthy of a soda commercial.

“Min Ki, did something good happen?”

“Ah, yes. That’s right. Something did happen.”

“Was it about that modeling job?”

“Hehe, yes.”

Lee Min Ki chuckled again.

But it wasn’t just because of the modeling job.

There was something even better.

‘Who would have thought he’d pay for an entire month at once?’

It was his modeling salary.

Yoo Gyu Eon, the CEO, had decided it would be better to give him a lump sum rather than smaller, divided payments.

From now on, he would receive four weeks’ worth of pay on a designated day each month.

Of course, this was just a precaution in case Lee Min Ki ever thought of running away.

After all, it would be harder to quit after receiving a large sum of money at once.

But because of that, Lee Min Ki’s perception of CEO Yoo Gyu Eon had evolved far beyond that of a simple employer.

‘He’s an angel. The CEO is an angel.’

Because of this, Lee Min Ki had ordered all the things he had wanted to buy online.

Instead of bundled beef ramen, he got jjamppong ramen.

Instead of discounted rice nearing its expiration date, he bought fresh, clean Yugu rice, grown in the Yugu region.

Instead of his faded, worn-out T-shirts, he purchased crisp new shirts.

How could he not feel great?

‘To think that just spending one day a week on outside work could improve my life so much. It’s unbelievable.’

He was even humming a tune when Kim Tak, with a curious voice, asked him.

“Did you buy something nice?”

“I bought a few things here and there.”

“A car? A watch? Or maybe a house?”

“Hehe, you’re going overboard.”

“Hm? I wasn’t joking.”

Kim Tak tilted his head, looking genuinely confused.

“There are a lot of good deals on the market these days.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Any further discussion would just be overkill.

That face he usually found so detestable.

But today, even that shameless expression didn’t seem so unbearable.

‘His image is hard to erase.’

Recently, Lee Min Ki had realized that Kim Tak wasn’t such a bad person after all.

At the very least, he didn’t seem to have any ill intent toward him.

Still, it’s not like years of bad feelings would just disappear overnight.

Well, it didn’t matter.

Today was a good day.

‘Why not? When I get home after class today, instead of chicken breast, I’ll treat myself to some pork shoulder.’

It was the moment he decided to indulge a little for the day.

Creak.

The door to the practice room opened, and a familiar man walked in.

“I’m here.”

It was Trainer Kim Ah Sung.

He let out a yawn, looking as if everything in the world was a bother, and said,

“Am I late?”

“Yes, you are.”

“I had a meeting that went late last night, so I overslept. But there’s something I need to tell you today.”

It seemed like something was going on.

Sensing the serious tone, all three of them perked up their ears.

“It’s not a big deal, just something special.”

Trainer Kim Ah Sung scratched his neck as he spoke.

“The JC audition schedule is out.”

* * *

‘Finally!’

Lee Min Ki cheered inwardly.

The JC audition.

Ever since Trainer Kim Ah Sung had first mentioned it, he had been anxiously waiting for the moment it would be confirmed.

He had worried every day that the audition might just vanish into thin air.

But now, it was finally confirmed.

“There aren’t any major changes from what I mentioned before.”

Trainer Kim Ah Sung continued in his usual nonchalant tone.

“It’ll be conducted privately, with a small number of participants, by invitation only. As I mentioned, two others besides me will attend, and Min Ki and Seon Ah, you two will participate.”

That’s right.

He wasn’t the only one participating in this audition. Yoo Seon Ah was also recommended.

‘Well, considering her skills, she deserves it.’

Yoo Seon Ah wasn’t regarded as one of the academy’s rising stars for nothing.

From what he had observed up close, her growth rate was remarkable—so much so that calling it extraordinary wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

Although she was still inexperienced and a bit clumsy, she would soon spread her wings.

“Min Ki, let’s do our best.”

She extended her hand to Min Ki, suggesting a handshake between fellow audition participants.

Just as Lee Min Ki instinctively reached out to shake her hand—

“What about me?”

Kim Tak raised his hand and asked Trainer Kim Ah Sung.

“Can’t I participate in that audition? From what I’ve heard, it sounds pretty good.”

“Hm, do you want to participate too?”

“Yes.”

“That’s something I’ll have to check. It’s not something I can decide on my own right away.”

“Aw.”

Kim Tak let out a disappointed sigh and stepped back.

As he watched this scene, Lee Min Ki thought,

‘Normally, they wouldn’t even tell someone about an audition unless they were a participant.’

It seemed that after spending the past month in the same class together, Trainer Kim Ah Sung had taken a liking to Kim Tak.

Or maybe he didn’t see him as someone who would cause unnecessary trouble.

In any case, things were becoming clearer.

Trainer Kim Ah Sung glanced at the three of them, deep in thought, without saying anything.

Since he remained silent, the three of them also stayed quiet.

For a moment, they just stared blankly at one another without any words to say.

“It won’t be easy.”

Trainer Kim Ah Sung tilted his head as he spoke.

“I don’t think it’ll go well like this.”

“What do you mean?”

Yoo Seon Ah asked, looking puzzled, and Trainer Kim Ah Sung nodded his head as he explained.

“Have I not mentioned it before? The reason I come to this academy.”

“You said it was for special lessons.”

“That’s right. But the people receiving those special lessons are the ones participating in this audition.”

“…Are they that skilled?”

In response to her slightly anxious question, Trainer Kim Ah Sung chuckled and said,

“Well, that goes without saying.”

“…”

“Unfortunately, that’s just how this academy is structured. The students in the higher classes are, of course, better.”

The structure of Jam Acting School was broadly divided into two categories.

The hobby class and the debut preparation class.

The three people here now could all be considered part of the debut preparation class.

In a sense, they were customers who paid the academy to receive instruction. However, occasionally, special lectures were held under the director’s orders.

“Those over there are all attending on full scholarships.”

This was the scholarship system.

There were even students whom the academy itself financially supported to the point of putting money directly into their pockets.

Scholars.

As Lee Min Ki’s eyes widened at the mention of these students, Trainer Kim Ah Sung, maintaining his indifferent attitude, continued speaking.

“They’re all elites from theater and film programs, and some even have acting experience. Debuting is a given for them—what’s more important is where and when they’ll debut. Based on their skills alone, they’re already professionals.”

For the regular students, it was enough just to get placed in an agency, no matter where it was.

But the scholars aimed one level higher.

“They’re placed in agencies that anyone would recognize just by hearing the name.”

They didn’t even consider most agencies.

They only looked at agencies that could guarantee success.

This was directly tied to the academy’s reputation.

That’s why they went so far as to support these students financially.

‘That’s probably the reason they brought me here, too.’

JC wasn’t the absolute best, but it was close.

The director’s strategy was likely to use him as a stepping stone to place other students into the agency.

‘If things had gone differently, Min Ki could have had a chance at the scholarship system as well.’

It was disappointing that he hadn’t made it.

Trainer Kim Ah Sung let out a barely audible sigh, and at that moment, Lee Min Ki raised his hand and asked.

“Am I much worse than them?”

“Well…”

Trainer Kim Ah Sung blinked a few times before replying.

“Not necessarily.”

“Excuse me?”

“In fact, in some areas, you’re even better.”

But hadn’t he just said the scholars were skilled?

Now he was saying Min Ki was better.

Confused by the sudden change in tone, Min Ki pondered the statement, while Trainer Kim Ah Sung elaborated.

“For Min Ki, it’s not a matter of whether you’re good or bad. It’s more about… hmm, how should I put this? Yes, it’s about how much more you can shine.”

Shine?

Rather than clarifying things, this answer only left Min Ki more perplexed.

Trainer Kim Ah Sung snapped his fingers and explained.

“Auditions aren’t about beating your competitors; it’s about catching the judges’ eyes. So, while being better than the others is important, what you really need is presence. A presence so strong that you alone shine brighter than everyone else.”

“Ah.”

“That’s what Min Ki needs right now: an aura.”

This was what Trainer Kim Ah Sung had often sensed while watching Min Ki’s performances.

He was definitely good.

But his acting had a subtle nuance, as if he was instinctively trying to dim his own light.

‘This is usually something you see in actors who frequently play supporting roles or extras.’

Most rookies are the opposite.

They try so hard to outshine everyone else that they end up ruining the overall scene.

But Min Ki had the exact opposite problem.

It was as if he was habitually holding back.

As a trainer, this was a difficult phenomenon to understand.

‘Why? For someone with this level of skill, you’d expect some arrogance. Why does he keep diminishing himself?’

It was a mystery.

As things stood, Min Ki would already be great in a supporting role.

But an audition wasn’t about aiming for a supporting role; it was about aspiring to the lead.

Even if someone ultimately ended up in a supporting role, in the audition, they should aim to stand out as a lead.

A monitor that knows how to shine brightly can freely adjust its brightness, but a monitor with inherently low brightness will always seem dull when it really matters.

At the Daon Entertainment audition, they had leveraged this small brightness as an advantage.

But they couldn’t keep relying on that forever.

That’s why Min Ki needed to develop a presence strong enough to outshine the competition.

‘In a group of mediocre people, it wouldn’t matter as much. But to stand out among those who think they’re the best, you need to have a different flavor.’

Trainer Kim Ah Sung knew how Min Ki could quickly achieve that.

“Anyway, that’s that.”

He shrugged and added,

“Honestly, I don’t think you’re lacking much now, but you can’t make it as an actor if you’re content with just being ‘good enough,’ right?”

He poured out these words all at once.

“Exactly.”

Lee Min Ki responded with a calm expression, as if agreeing with what Kim Tak had been saying for a while.

“We have to get even better.”

The need to improve.

It was like saying he’d push the scholars down and make them supporting roles.

He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Trainer Kim Ah Sung chuckled at his bold attitude, which seemed both reckless and oddly fitting.

‘It’s not something people usually say easily, even if I brought it up first.’

Indeed, his mindset was solid.

Min Ki’s mentality was fundamentally different from that of other aspiring actors.

In this industry, it was common to encounter people who didn’t have the mindset of a professional.

They blamed their failures on bad luck, a lack of connections, being out of sync with the times, or investors exploiting them.

There were countless excuses.

You couldn’t entirely deny these reasons.

After all, there’s a saying: “Luck is seven parts, skill is three parts.”

But in the long run—whether it be after a few years or ten years—the ones who remain standing are always those who steadily improved their skills.

“There’s an old saying from Buddha.”

Trainer Kim Ah Sung, feeling a slight sense of pride, continued,

“From now on, I’ll give you teachings, so take notes. Use 12-point font, Batang style.”

Right.

Buddha never said anything like that.

Lee Min Ki chuckled brightly and nodded.

* * *

In the end, Trainer Kim Ah Sung didn’t give any underhanded advice.

He didn’t reveal the contents of the audition.

Nor did he suggest bribing or pulling strings behind the scenes.

Even the judges for the audition weren’t finalized until a few days before, so there was no point in trying to prepare for their preferences ahead of time.

However,

He did offer something worth calling guidance.

What was it, exactly?

‘…I’m not sure if this counts as training.’

Standing in the middle of a baseball stadium, Lee Min Ki chuckled to himself.

‘He said real experience beats practice.’

The best way to gain presence was to immerse yourself among people who were desperate to show off theirs.

He could understand that, at least in theory.

‘But I didn’t expect it to be like this.’

Lee Min Ki let out a hollow laugh, dazed, as the person next to him crushed a beer can in one hand and shouted,

“Disband if you’re going to play like that!”

Echoing his call, someone from behind shouted,

“Disband!”

“Disband!”

This was the home of Korean sports hooligans.

A baseball stadium.

That’s where Lee Min Ki had ended up.