Top Star by Luck

Chapter 63

The park installed inside the apartment complex.

A man sat on a creaky bench, frowning as he watched children playing far away.

“…What am I even thinking?”

The man’s appearance, as he mumbled to himself, looked anything but ordinary.

With eyes that seemed indifferent to the world and a sharp nose, he looked cynical to some.

His long limbs completed his silhouette in a striking way.

Even if you encountered him just once on the street, his appearance would be etched into your memory, making you turn around for a second look.

In other words, he had the look of an actor.

In fact, this man’s profession was indeed acting.

“Am I out of my mind?”

The man who had been muttering self-deprecating remarks for a while now was named Kim Ji Hwan.

He was a rising rookie actor, quickly gaining attention, and one of the two main leads in the drama Café del Dia, which started airing today.

Sitting on the bench, Kim Ji Hwan blinked as he stared blankly at the playground.

‘Out of my mind?’

The reason Kim Ji Hwan was here today.

It was to meet an actor who lived in this apartment, Lee Min Ki.

“Have you been waiting long?”

Lee Min Ki approached, asking him that question.

“Just got here.”

“I was surprised when you suddenly contacted me.”

As Kim Ji Hwan stared at him blankly, Lee Min Ki cleared his throat, then sat down next to him on the bench.

He looked at the playground, just as Kim Ji Hwan had been doing, and asked.

“This is the first time we’ve met separately like this, isn’t it? I didn’t expect you to contact me, so I was a bit surprised.”

“I just had something I wanted to ask.”

That was exactly it.

He had come here because he had something to ask.

But despite having organized his thoughts for a long time, his lips stayed glued together as if stuck with glue.

It wasn’t his usual style.

Coming to someone else’s neighborhood out of the blue to ask something—it felt embarrassing.

‘Seriously, what am I doing? What am I, some sort of master?’

Kim Ji Hwan frowned for a moment at himself.

Then, thinking it didn’t matter, he finally opened his mouth.

“You’re quite good at acting.”

“Ahem.”

At the unexpected compliment, Lee Min Ki cleared his throat in embarrassment, and Kim Ji Hwan continued, as if chasing after him.

“How do you practice acting?”

“What?”

“I’m asking how you practice. You’re good at acting. Better than me.”

“…….”

Lee Min Ki’s gaze filled with confusion.

‘Out of nowhere?’

But Kim Ji Hwan was serious.

He wanted to know how the other person managed to act so well.

No, it was obvious.

He must have accumulated a lot of input, or observed diligently on set, or studied hard, or found a great teacher.

Any answer would be fine.

Even a cliché one would do, as long as it came from the man in front of him.

Why?

Because for the past few months, he’d been breaking down and struggling every single day.

When he first saw him at the Daon audition, he couldn’t accept it.

Because it was him who had been cast.

Even when Lee Min Ki skyrocketed in popularity with *Campus Story* and Forever Green, Kim Ji Hwan was angry but didn’t think Lee Min Ki was a step ahead of him.

But after standing on the same set, he had no choice but to admit it.

Lee Min Ki was not just one step, but two steps ahead.

“I’ve thought about it every day. Objectively speaking, I’ve done everything I could.”

It hurt his pride, but if it was necessary, he was willing to lower his head and learn.

That’s why he had come here, something that wasn’t like him at all.

“What’s your secret? Why is there such a difference between you and me?”

Faced with the unexpected sincerity, Lee Min Ki responded with an awkward smile.

“…Haha, thank you for the compliment, but I’m not good enough to teach someone else. Ji Hwan, you’re just in a slightly different area from me, but you’re an excellent actor.”

“If you’re not teasing me, cut out the false modesty. I have an eye for acting.”

Kim Ji Hwan cut off Lee Min Ki’s words.

“Or is it that? You plan to keep the secret to yourself?”

Blunt.

Of course, this was what went through the mind of the person hearing those words.

‘Huh? This feels familiar?’

It was as if he had heard similar words somewhere before.

Asking if there was a secret.

Saying it wasn’t fair to keep it to oneself, and begging to be taught.

These were all very familiar phrases, and soon the culprit came to mind.

‘Ah, it’s Kim Tak.’

This is totally Kim Tak.

Just like Kim Tak, suddenly clinging on and begging for guidance.

Even though there was no secret at all, he wouldn’t believe it and would cling to you like glue, insisting on figuring it out for himself.

‘Did he just turn into Kim Tak during his day off?’

From Lee Min Ki’s perspective, it was rather fascinating.

‘But Kim Ji Hwan is already good at acting.’

He didn’t even understand why he was asking.

Wasn’t he already good at it?

No, not just good.

In his past life, Kim Ji Hwan was a star that Lee Min Ki couldn’t even dare to look up at.

Lee Min Ki was a nobody among nobodies.

Kim Ji Hwan, on the other hand, had been an up-and-coming actor, growing into a mid-tier star.

They were in different leagues.

Even though Lee Min Ki had gained some success in this new life, that didn’t mean Kim Ji Hwan had lost his edge.

He was still an exceptional rookie.

‘He improved so quickly.’

Kim Ji Hwan had an overwhelming ability to learn.

Once he received feedback, by the next shoot, he would correct it so well that no one could pick at him anymore.

Sure, he must have practiced hard, but he clearly had talent as well.

‘And his pride is quite high too.’

Having spent the last few months together on set, Lee Min Ki knew.

Kim Ji Hwan was the type to bang his head against the wall rather than ask others for help.

Yet here he was, reaching out.

And to him, the last person he would want to lower his head to.

Why was he doing this?

Why was he willing to endure this humiliation?

One thought crossed Lee Min Ki’s mind.

‘A desire to improve, perhaps.’

Maybe Kim Ji Hwan was the kind of person who, despite his pride, felt a stronger thirst for growth.

After all, it wasn’t strange considering how quickly he had improved.

Still, to be honest, Lee Min Ki felt a bit hesitant about giving advice on acting.

‘If I were as good at teaching people as Ah Sung, maybe it’d be different.’

Both he and Kim Ji Hwan were at similar levels, so any advice might not even make much difference.

In fact, it might backfire if he came across as arrogant.

But the look in Kim Ji Hwan’s eyes made it seem like he would perform a single-leg takedown if he didn’t say something.

‘If we fought, I’d lose, right?’

There was a definite height difference between them.

And he probably went to the gym too.

“Do you not want to teach me?”

As Lee Min Ki remained silent, Kim Ji Hwan pressed him again.

“As a fellow actor, I’m humbling myself to ask, but you still won’t share even that much with me?”

Hey, man, that’s not the tone you use when you’re asking someone a question.

But knowing Kim Ji Hwan’s personality, Lee Min Ki understood that even this was his desperate way of speaking.

Moreover.

He started to get a certain feeling.

‘If this is fate too?’

Since being reborn, he’d been feeling like his connections with people were particularly strong.

From his academy peers to his colleagues on set, it was the same.

And if Kim Ji Hwan could be another one of those valuable connections?

‘If, by chance, helping him now benefits me in the long run?’

The industry is small.

Even if Kim Ji Hwan felt overshadowed by him, he was still undoubtedly star material.

They’d definitely run into each other a few more times in the future, so it wouldn’t hurt to improve their relationship now.

There was no reason to be on bad terms, after all.

And besides.

The “luck” Lee Min Ki had experienced in this life wasn’t always like winning a lottery ticket at a convenience store.

It often came in a different form.

It was like accumulating deposits in a housing subscription account, slowly snowballing over time.

‘What if this moment is one of those times?’

A seed.

Having organized his thoughts, Lee Min Ki opened his mouth.

“It’s nothing special, but I’ll ask you one question.”

Seeing Lee Min Ki start to speak, Kim Ji Hwan’s gaze sharpened.

Almost as if he suspected he was about to pick a fight.

Lee Min Ki, trying to diffuse the tension, looked at the children playing in the distance as he continued.

“What ratio of input to output do you maintain?”

“Input to output?”

“In other words, how much time do you spend watching content versus how much time do you spend practicing acting or working on set?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“I’m asking because it’s necessary.”

At Lee Min Ki’s words, Kim Ji Hwan frowned, seemingly confused, but then slowly extended his fingers one by one as he answered.

“I watch at least one movie a day. Any extra time, I use for practice.”

One movie a day.

Roughly two hours—an average amount of time for an actor.

No, considering that he maintained this consistently, it was actually quite good.

‘Surprisingly, there are a lot of actors who don’t watch movies during their active periods.’

Once they start acting, even watching something becomes labor instead of relaxation.

However.

Lee Min Ki thought a little differently here.

“For me, it’s 8 parts input and 2 parts output.”

“8 parts input?”

When Kim Ji Hwan asked, sounding surprised, Lee Min Ki nodded and continued.

“I spend all day watching things, and I actually spend less time acting.”

Overwhelming input compared to others.

This was what Lee Min Ki considered his strength.

Why was he able to do that?

Why had it become a habit?

Because he had spent so much time wanting to act but unable to.

“I spent every day watching movies, dramas, and anime in my room.”

And then, after living like that, he eventually fell down the stairs, cracked the back of his head, and died.

Anyway, for Lee Min Ki, input had become a way of life.

As a result, watching and watching again had turned into a habit that stuck to him without him even realizing it.

“So, isn’t that just goofing off?”

When Kim Ji Hwan responded with suspicion in his voice, Lee Min Ki, as if he had anticipated this, said.

“Here’s the thing. Even on set, I constantly think about how the other actors are performing.”

It was observation.

While watching the kids play in the distant playground, Lee Min Ki continued.

“I think to myself, ‘If I were standing in that scene, how would I act? What is that actor thinking while performing that character? Why doesn’t the director point out that obvious mistake?’… I keep thinking and thinking.”

At those words, Kim Ji Hwan, as if he couldn’t understand, asked again.

“Isn’t that something all actors do?”

“That’s right. Everyone does it.”

Lee Min Ki didn’t deny it.

In fact, he agreed.

“But the important thing is the amount and accuracy of those thoughts. After all, without opening up someone’s head, there’s a limit to how clearly we can understand their actions, right?”

“Do you ever struggle with it?”

“Of course. I’m not a genius.”

“…You’re not?”

“No.”

Lee Min Ki repeated, as if putting an exclamation mark on his words.

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

He wasn’t a genius.

Definitely not.

The one person who knew better than anyone else that he wasn’t a genius was himself.

Looking at Kim Ji Hwan’s expression, it was clear he was finding it hard to accept Lee Min Ki’s words, but was willing to let it slide since Lee Min Ki insisted.

‘I never thought I’d be worrying about stuff like this.’

It felt like just yesterday that he was treated like dead weight at the academy, yet so much had changed.

He used to think the person in front of him was the genius, but now it seemed like Kim Ji Hwan was the one treating him as some kind of genius.

Smiling bitterly at the irony of the situation, Lee Min Ki said.

“Still, I keep thinking. While eating, while walking, while exercising. I keep thinking and thinking, in my head, about other people’s actions.”

“…Are you saying that alone can improve your skills? Just by thinking?”

It was a voice filled with disbelief.

In response, Lee Min Ki chuckled softly and replied.

“There’s a saying from an actor I like.”

“What is it?”

Curiosity filled Kim Ji Hwan’s question, and Lee Min Ki, extending his fingers, said.

“If you think about any action three times, there’s nothing in the world you won’t understand.”

“……!”

Kim Ji Hwan’s pupils visibly shook.

His shoulders also shrank slightly.

His breathing became noticeably quieter.

It meant he was focusing all his senses on Lee Min Ki’s words.

Riding on the momentum, Lee Min Ki pushed further, as if determined to see this through.

“If you keep doing that, at some point, you’ll start to feel it. The other person’s thoughts. And from that moment on, you’ll be able to observe the whole set from different angles.”

Observation.

That was what Lee Min Ki prided himself on in acting.

Using his observations to perform in a way that aligned with the camera and the scene in his head.

“First, understand why this scene is set up this way. Then fit in your best performance like a one-line block in Tetris.”

He wasn’t sure if the metaphor would resonate.

After talking at length, Lee Min Ki seemed to feel embarrassed about boasting and cleared his throat before saying.

“That’s all there is to it. Not much, right?”

As he said, it wasn’t much.

It was something any actor could put into practice.

Yet it was also something most didn’t do.

Especially main actors, who were more accustomed to others adjusting to their needs.

Perhaps the long years of playing minor roles had forced Lee Min Ki to pick up these tricks out of necessity.

That’s why.

To Kim Ji Hwan, it felt a bit different.

“Understanding the scene, you say?”

Indeed, a different feeling.

“That’s all?”

He was simply asking out of curiosity, but Lee Min Ki flinched and took a step back, saying defensively.

“Why, why, what, why? If you don’t want to believe it, then don’t. I told you because I thought it might help.”

“…….”

Kim Ji Hwan raised an eyebrow at Lee Min Ki’s overly sensitive reaction.

He wasn’t trying to argue, but perhaps it came off that way.

Either way, Lee Min Ki’s words gave him something to think about.

‘If I had to analyze my own acting, I could certainly do that.’

But if he had to ask whether he fully understood the performances of other actors on set…

“…….”

He wasn’t so sure.

That was the kind of actor Kim Ji Hwan had been.

His ego was so strong that he barely thought of others as anything more than competitors, let alone as people to understand.

Even those around him had treated him that way from a young age.

Born into a family that ran a pharmaceutical company, blessed with good looks and personality, he had always grown up at the center of attention.

So he had never really been conscious of others.

He had always been in a position where it wasn’t necessary.

Having lived a life too accustomed to such relationships, Lee Min Ki’s seemingly obvious words had a slightly different impact on him.

‘Was this the secret to his acting?’

Whenever people thought of the name Lee Min Ki, one image came to mind.

“Wow, really?”

“Haha, Min Ki, you’re always so curious.”

“Oh, did I overstep?”

“No, it’s just fascinating. You have such strong curiosity.”

“I was really surprised by your performance earlier. When I watched your acting, I couldn’t help but get immersed.”

Even when it wasn’t his turn to act, Lee Min Ki was known for obsessively observing the performances of other actors.

During breaks on set, rather than reviewing his own acting, he would often exchange opinions with others.

‘If that was the secret behind this actor’s success…’

If his level of understanding had directly translated into his skill?

If that hypothesis were true, then that might be exactly what Kim Ji Hwan had been lacking.

In that case.

If that really was it.

“……!”

The fog clouding his mind cleared up a little.

Meanwhile, Lee Min Ki, watching him fall into deep thought in silence, had this thought.

‘Is he sulking?’

Was he upset?

‘Is it because I pushed back on that one thing earlier?’

No.

Even I think I said something a bit abstract, so surely he didn’t take it the wrong way?

What if he thought I was just spewing nonsense because I had nothing better to say?

But this really is all I have.

‘Ah, now that I think about it, this is kind of embarrassing.’

He had gotten carried away and said too much.

And yet, here Kim Ji Hwan was, not even saying anything after asking for advice—just sitting there.

‘He’s probably doubting me.’

He’s not a kid.

Both of them, lost in their thoughts due to a lack of communication.

“That’s true.”

Kim Ji Hwan finally stood up from the bench, brushing off his pants, and spoke hesitantly with a frown.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry?”

What does “thanks” even mean?

Not “thank you,” but just “thanks”?

Because of Kim Ji Hwan’s characteristically stiff way of speaking, the sentiment didn’t quite register.

Lee Min Ki decided to ask again.

“What did you just say?”

“I said thanks.”

“Huh? What did you say again?”

As Lee Min Ki pretended not to hear and kept pressing him, Kim Ji Hwan bit his lip.

“…I’m saying your words helped me.”

“Oh?”

“Just take it that way. Next time I’ll buy you something. Let’s talk again then.”

After saying that, Kim Ji Hwan turned away, frowning, as if something was still bothering him.

Like a child grimacing while being forced to swallow bitter medicine.

Looking at him, Lee Min Ki couldn’t help but think.

‘Wow, is he seriously saying thanks?’

Was that really Kim Ji Hwan, thanking him?

The same Kim Ji Hwan who always stuck to his own path, no matter what anyone said?

The Kim Ji Hwan who even had a sharp attitude toward the director on set?

Of course, it was possible.

Like the odds of pulling three 5-star characters in a mobile game’s first tutorial gacha.

In other words, it was an extremely rare situation.

‘But whatever.’

Lee Min Ki laughed it off cheerfully.

There was no need to dwell on whether or not someone thanked him.

After all, even with the same input, the output is always different.

As Lee Min Ki chuckled, preparing to get up and leave, Kim Ji Hwan spoke unexpectedly.

“Daon must have been blind.”

“Sorry?”

“They dropped you. The CEO must have been blind.”

This was a bit funny.

The person who beat him out was saying this, so it really was amusing.

‘Who knew Kim Ji Hwan could make jokes?’

His expression was dead serious, though.

Lee Min Ki, finding the gap funny, chuckled softly and said.

“Everyone makes a wrong choice at least once in their life.”

“…….”

“They say that failing to recognize talent is a disaster. The CEO of Daon didn’t recognize me as a talent….”

At that moment.

Kim Ji Hwan gave him a puzzled look, and Lee Min Ki realized his mistake.

‘Ah, that joke failed.’

Look at his expression.

He definitely didn’t get it.

He looked like someone who should have lots of friends, but his actions screamed “scholar.”

Maybe the earlier comment wasn’t a joke after all.

‘Oh well.’

Failure.

Tasting the bitterness of failure, Lee Min Ki said.

“Well, it was just bad luck for both sides.”

“Luck?”

“They say relationships between people are all about luck, right? Daon just didn’t have enough luck. Or maybe me leaving and joining JC was my luck.”

In fact, this statement carried the nuance of “It takes luck to work with me!”

Lee Min Ki hoped Kim Ji Hwan would pick up on that part, but…

“Luck, huh. I guess that makes sense.”

This earnest guy didn’t seem to catch the hint at all.

Nope.

He doesn’t get jokes.

Lee Min Ki sighed inwardly and laughed.

“Since you came all the way here, let’s grab a quick meal. There are a lot of good places around here.”

Koreans run on rice.

Thinking that, Lee Min Ki was about to lead Kim Ji Hwan to a nearby donburi restaurant when—

“Hmm?”

He saw someone trudging toward them from afar.

Carrying a massively stuffed shopping bag in one hand, like he’d been out shopping.

The silhouette looked familiar.

A strikingly handsome face with long, lean limbs.

A guy who looked just as much like an actor as Kim Ji Hwan.

“…….”

“…….”

It was Kim Tae Yang.

The one who lived in the same house as Lee Min Ki, who had now walked up close to the two of them, asking with sharp eyes.

“Actor Kim Ji Hwan? Are you two close?”

Instinctively, Lee Min Ki almost shook his head side to side but instead, out of some sense of courtesy, shook it up and down.