Chapter 10: The Audition
Morning.
Jiang Zaixun was shaving in the bathroom when he heard the sound of the front door lock turning.
“Click—”
He peeked out.
Lee Seong-gyeong stood at the entrance, carrying a rolling suitcase, her baseball cap pulled down low enough to hide her eyes.
“Didn’t you say you’d be back tomorrow?”
“The flight was moved up.”
She kicked off her high heels, nearly tripping on his scattered shoes.
Jiang Zaixun reached out to steady her, but she sidestepped.
He awkwardly withdrew his hand and casually asked, “How did the magazine shoot go?”
“Fine.”
As Lee Seong-gyeong passed by him, Jiang Zaixun caught the cool scent clinging to her hair along with a familiar lavender fragrance.
“Last week’s play premiere…”
“Full house?”
“There were two empty seats in the family section.”
She paused opening the fridge; the light inside cast a bluish tint in her pupils.
“So?”
“So… there’s an extra show next Saturday. Want to come—”
“No time.”
“The week after…”
“I have a shoot for the June issue.”
“Oh…”
The microwave beeped. Jiang Zaixun pulled out a steaming seaweed rice roll and headed toward the entrance.
Suddenly, Lee Seong-gyeong kicked aside a suitcase blocking her way.
“Where are you going?”
“To an audition in Apgujeong.”
“Dubbing?”
“The Korean version of Despicable Me 2.”
“Wait.”
She opened her suitcase, retrieving a deep blue velvet box from an inner compartment and tossed it to him.
Jiang Zaixun caught it clumsily, the sharp corners digging into his palm.
He opened the lid to find a bottle of Dior men’s cologne inside.
“A promotional gift.”
She turned toward the bedroom. “It’s taking up space.”
“Oh.”
The door was halfway closed when it suddenly popped open again.
Jiang Zaixun peered through the crack. “Really just a gift?”
“Get lost.”
“...”
Meanwhile, Kim Daewon stubbed out a cigarette in the gap of the Kia’s sunroof and looked up to see Jiang Zaixun jogging over, clutching his backpack strap and holding something in his hand.
“Taking your sweetheart’s leave so slow?”
“Bro, your car window’s frosted over.”
Jiang Zaixun slid into the backseat, slamming the door; the cheap leather seat emitted a loud squeak.
“Nonsense! It’s already May… Ah, Dior Sauvage?”
Kim Daewon glanced at the elegant box in his hand. “She gave you that?”
“A promotional item.”
“Who gives men’s cologne as a promo? And Dior, no less?”
“She said so.”
Kim Daewon rolled his eyes and turned the key to start the engine.
The car rumbled to life.
Jiang Zaixun fiddled with the perfume box and suddenly asked, “Bro, what do you think it means when a woman gives a man cologne?”
“Literally—she thinks you stink.”
“...”
By the time Jiang Zaixun arrived at the recording studio in Apgujeong, it was already nine in the morning.
Seven actors were ahead of him waiting to audition.
“Damn, even cursing has to come with a sob?”
The glass door creaked open, and the previous auditionee stomped out grumbling.
“Next.”
“...”
Kim Daewon leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“That guy just went in is from KBS voice acting team.”
Jiang Zaixun stared intently at the script’s lines for “Gru.”
“I’ll just stick to what I practiced yesterday.”
Time ticked by slowly.
After the previous actor left, the glass door clicked open again, and assistant director Lee poked his head in.
“Mr. Elegant, you’re up.”
Kim Daewon slapped him on the back.
“I checked—this producer once saved a project by hiring a rookie voice actor. So don’t worry too much.”
“Got it.”
Jiang Zaixun stood and swallowed his third throat lozenge, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tapping repeatedly—a warm-up trick taught by Hwang Jung-min.
The studio’s soundproofing was thick and muffling, like a burial shroud.
The moment Jiang Zaixun put on the headphones, the sound of his own swallow sent a tingling sensation through his eardrums.
Behind the glass in the monitoring room, three figures were faintly visible—the director in a baseball cap twirling a pen, the sound engineer with dreadlocks chewing gum and blowing bubbles, and the foreign producer playing Plants vs. Zombies on an iPad.
“Let’s start with a casual conversation.”
The director’s voice floated calmly through the headset. “Scene seven: Gru calls to order a pizza.”
Jiang Zaixun glanced at the script, cleared his throat, and squeezed out a lazy nasal tone.
“Extra-large Hawaiian pizza, no pineapple—yeah, I hate all yellow things.”
“Stop. Too soft. Again.”
Jiang Zaixun pressed his lips tightly, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, trying to recall the explosive roar of Hwang Jung-min when angry.
Moments later, gritting his molars, he shouted irritably:
“Hawaiian pizza is for cowards! Double the jalapeños—no, triple!”
His adam’s apple bobbed fiercely, veins climbing from his collarbone to his jaw.
“Pass.”
The director jabbed his pen at the next line:
“Crying scene: daughter broke the rocket model.”
Jiang Zaixun pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, choking back tears; images of Hwang Jaewoo sniffling, saying “Mom, wake up,” flashed in his mind.
“That was… three months’ worth of parts…”
His throat caught on the last word, which came out muffled behind clenched teeth before he squeezed out a trembling breath:
“Dad can fix it… if not, I’ll steal a bigger one!”
“Pass. Last test.”
The director pulled up the mixing equipment.
“Gru and the Minions arguing. Sync dubbing.”
Suddenly, Gru’s original English angry roar flooded Jiang Zaixun’s left ear, while Minions’ chirping filled his right.
The two sounds collided and overwhelmed him, making his temples throb.
“Banana! Ba-na-na!”
Jiang Zaixun pinched his nose and shrieked in a childlike voice like a Minion, his left foot tapping instinctively to the sound effects’ rhythm.
“Shut up!”
He quickly stepped left, instantly switching back to a deep, hoarse, smoky voice, tapping the script with knuckles as if knocking on a Minion’s head.
“Keep chirping and I’ll freeze you into a popsicle!”
“Holy shit!”
As Jiang Zaixun’s final note spun in the air, a loud crash echoed from the monitoring room.
The foreign producer’s iPad toppled over a coffee cup, spilling it, cursing as the in-game zombies devoured the last pea shooter.
The director dropped his pen in shock.
“Damn! You’re crazy about that game?”
“Him! Gru! Korean version!”
Assistant director Lee hurriedly wiped coffee stains off the producer and translated:
“He says he wants Mr. Elegant to voice Gru!”
The director tugged off his baseball cap, scratching his balding head.
“You sure? There’re still three professional voice actors waiting…”
“No! He perfect!”
The producer gestured wildly.
“Voice like… like whiskey with gunpowder!”
Assistant director Lee quickly translated:
“He says Mr. Elegant’s voice combines richness and impact, bringing strong imagery and character portrayal.”
The director furrowed his brows deeply.
“But he hasn’t even had formal voice training!”
The producer slapped his chest.
“If it catches fire! I’ll pay!”
Seeing this, the director shrugged.
“Fine, if it messes up, let Universal clean up the mess themselves. Umm… no need to translate that last part.”