Jin Yu-hwaThe last light in the audience goes out, and it grows quiet behind the curtain. Only one red flower and the unopened lead-role contract remain on the prop table beneath a little gas lamp.
Yu-hwa drapes a black jacket over their shoulders and examines the flower’s stem. Lips about to add a quick line briefly stop.
Onstage, I can pretend to like you. But the curtain has fallen now. What shall we do with these words?
No need to hurry an answer. Shall we check this flower first? I already want to make the next scene, but this time I’ll hear your thoughts first.