Chapter 13 : Moon Rabbit (3)

A tense atmosphere permeated the drama club. It was a well-known fact that people who were usually cheerful were even more terrifying when they got angry.

Ten minutes had passed since Hansongi started doing push-ups. Her arms trembled with fatigue. Kang Haerin, who had been calming herself down with her hand over her eyes, finally told Hansongi to stand up and approached her.

“Hansongi, do you feel wronged?”
“N… No.”
“You should. I suddenly blew up and made you do push-ups.”

Hansongi looked miserable, clearly clueless about why she was being punished.

“But there’s a reason I’m doing this, don’t you think?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Still playing dumb. Think carefully about why I might be doing this.”
“Is it… about the casting…?”

Kang Haerin nodded impassively.
Correct.
The instructor sent Hansongi back to her place and began a lecture.

“I heard about an unpleasant incident today. Apparently, a certain second-year, blinded by ambition, went around asking first-years to give up their roles.”

Murmurs rippled through the drama club.
Although she didn’t name names, it was clear she was talking about Hansongi.

“Hey, Club President, come here.”
“Yes.”
“Kang Joohyuk, what did I say about the casting?”
“That roles would be decided based on merit, regardless of grade level.”
“So, why are some people having trouble understanding that?”
“I apologize. I’ll make sure everyone understands.”
“Alright, you’re dismissed.”

Joohyuk bowed his head and returned to his place.
Haerin took a sip of water and continued,

“I’m sure some of you are wondering why we’re not doing things the old way, assigning roles by grade level. If you have any complaints, come talk to *me* directly. Don’t scheme behind my back.”

She glanced at Hansongi.

“This year, we’re aiming for the National Youth Theater Festival. We’re nowhere near ready, of course. So, this competition should fuel your motivation.”

***

The instructor said she would work with the first-year students separately, so we gathered in a corner of the auditorium.

Min Chaerin and two other students approached me. A quiet girl with glasses and a well-built boy who looked athletic. I couldn’t remember their names, even though we were in the same club.

“Sorry, what were your names again?”

Thankfully, the girl with glasses introduced herself.

“I’m Na Yeseul, and this musclehead next to me is Kim Jongseok. You’re Lee Haram, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ll try to remember this time.”
“I’m still trying to remember everyone too. Twelve people is a lot.”

Yeseul had a calming voice.
Min Chaerin sat next to me.

“Haram, that senior came to you guys too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I heard things got… interesting.”
“Han Dojun, that crazy bastard, put her in her place.”

I glanced at Dojun. He was yawning and smacking his lips, looking completely unconcerned.
Yeseul rested her chin on her hand.

“The instructor is ruthless, isn’t she? She didn’t name names, but everyone knows who she was talking about.”
“Making an example, I guess. It’s easier to get the message across if you make a public example of someone.”
“I suppose so.”

Yeseul nodded in agreement. Just then, the instructor walked over, carrying something.

“My little chicks, all gathered together?”

She set up a tripod and placed her smartphone on it.

“Did you learn anything from watching the others perform the other day?”
“Um… that they were awesome?”

The instructor lightly smacked Junseok on the back of his head.

“Let’s focus on the rest. What did you think?”
“Honestly, I couldn’t hear most of them, so I don’t know.”
“Exactly. You couldn’t hear them. Why do you think that is?”
“Because they were far away? Or maybe they weren’t projecting their voices enough.”

Haerin nodded, satisfied.

“The answer is both. Now, I want each of you to come up and deliver this line.”

She handed us a piece of paper with a short line written on it. Easy enough to memorize at a glance.
[Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who in this land is fairest of all? Snow White? Think again.]

Once again, Yang Jaehoon from the Culinary Department went first. He seemed to have become the default starting line.

He stepped onto the stage and began his performance. Despite his enthusiasm, only a few words – “mirror,” “princess” – were audible.

As soon as he returned, the instructor showed him the recording on her phone. Jaehoon’s ears turned red, embarrassed by his awkward performance. Kang Haerin smiled, patted his head, and said,

“The most common mistake beginners make is not considering the distance to the audience. You need to exaggerate your movements and project your voice more than you think. Want to see a good example? Han Dojun, you’re up.”
“Yes.”

Dojun replied indifferently and went up to the stage.
His performance was on a completely different level. His lines were clear and powerful, his movements precise and expressive.

“Now that you’ve seen the recordings, you can clearly see the difference, right?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
“Start practicing diaphragmatic breathing for vocal projection. Fill your belly with air, then slowly release it with a ‘sss’ sound. For your movements, keep recording yourselves and reviewing the footage. You’ll eventually get a feel for how much you need to exaggerate.”

Just then, Kim Junseok called me out.

“Aren’t you going to use Lee Haram as an example? She’s good at acting too.”
“Hey, quiet down, Mr. Hamlet.”

The instructor frowned.

“Don’t try to imitate her.”

***

Drama club ended, and I was walking home, completely exhausted. I had reached a state of transcendental sleepiness, where I was sleeping and being awake at the same time.

As I stumbled along, someone grabbed me.
I turned my head to see Dojun looking at me with a mixture of pity and exasperation. One of his hands was gripping the back of my neck, preventing me from face-planting onto the pavement.

“Are you drunk? You can barely walk straight.”
“Yeah, drunk on sleep. This is nice, actually. Can you just carry me home like this?”
“Stop talking nonsense and wake up.”
“Hee… If I could, I would.”

I leaned on him as we walked. I took a deep breath of the cool air, trying to clear my head.

“So, why did you fight with Senior Songi earlier?”
“Songi…? Oh, the crybaby?”
“She’s still your senior. Show some respect.”
“You’re nitpicking.”
“So, why did you fight with her? You usually just ignore people you don’t like.”

The Han Dojun I knew usually dealt with people he disliked with cold indifference. His argument with Hansongi was unusually emotional for him.

“I just… didn’t like what she was saying. It annoyed me, so I said what I thought. It wasn’t wrong, though, was it?”
“Ugh, you’re such an idiot.”
“Aren’t you going to thank me for helping you out?”
“…Fine. Thank you.”
“Huh?”

Dojun looked genuinely surprised when I thanked him with a wry smile.

See? I can express gratitude too.
He had underestimated me.

Standing up for someone, especially against a senior, wasn’t easy.
At least, not for jaded adults like me.

***

I arrived home. The spicy aroma of kimchi stew greeted me before I even opened the door.

“You’re home, sweetie? Dinner’s ready.”
I followed my mother to the kitchen, where a feast awaited me.

Bubbling kimchi stew, fluffy white rice, and perfectly cooked sunny-side-up eggs. I noticed an empty place setting.

“Where’s Dad?”
“He has a company dinner tonight. He’ll be late.”
“Ugh, I told him not to drink too much. He’s probably going to come home after downing several bottles of soju.” (TL Note: Soju is a Korean alcoholic beverage.)

I immediately sent him a chastising text. He didn’t even read it, probably already in the midst of his drinking spree.

“I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with your cooking tonight, Mom. I’m too tired to wait for Dad.”
“Alright, eat up and go to bed. My older daughter is out with her friends, and my younger daughter is busy with her drama club, so I guess I’ll have to make some friends of my own.”
“Should I quit the drama club?”
“Don’t be silly. Do whatever you want.”

My mother dismissed my words as a joke and handed me a glass of water.
I had been half-serious.
I breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Minseok bought two cans of beer from a convenience store run by an older friend and headed to the playground. Hansongi was sitting on a swing, a sullen expression on her face.

“How did you even get your hands on beer?”
“There are ways. Look, aren’t I cool?”
“Whatever. Let’s drink.”

Minseok sat next to her and casually asked,

“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Someone must have ratted me out. The instructor reamed me out.”
“Maybe one of the juniors snitched? This school’s going crazy.”
“Definitely. Joohyuk or you wouldn’t have said anything.”
“Now that you mention it… Never mind.”

Minseok trailed off deliberately.
Intrigued, Hansongi pressed him,

“What is it? Tell me.”
“I just remembered something. I saw Lee Haram having a private meeting with the instructor during lunch break.”
“…Really?”

Fury flickered in Hansongi’s eyes.
Minseok smirked inwardly.

This foolish girl was directing her anger at the wrong person.
*He* was the one who had told the instructor everything.

The beer tasted especially refreshing, laced with the sweetness of deception.