Transmigrated into the Extra Chapter as an Extra

Chapter 10 : Curtain Call of Awkwardness

Arzen woke up tangled in his sheets, blinking at the ceiling, his mind still foggy. His eyes squinted, staring hard at the cracks as if expecting them to spell out some miracle answer to his mess.

He shot up suddenly, every humiliating detail of yesterday hitting him like a punch to the gut.

He'd cried. Like a kid. In front of Hanjun.

He collapsed back onto his bed, pulling the covers over his head. If there were a hole to crawl into, he'd dive in headfirst. Maybe he could shoot himself into space, find a quiet planet, and live out the rest of his life as a hermit. Anything to escape the embarrassment pressing down on him like a heavy blanket.

Arzen sat up abruptly and pounded his fist against his forehead in frustration, each hit harder than the last, like he could somehow knock the memories out of his mind. The harder he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.

With every hit, the scenes replayed in his mind: the script rejection, the sting of his scraped palm, the pathetic retreat back to his dorm, and that embarrassing meltdown. It was the kind of meltdown a kid might have after losing a schoolyard race—dramatic, over the top, and utterly pointless.

What the hell was he thinking? Acting like that over some stupid school play? He was just some nobody, and yet there he was, making it seem like his entire existence hinged on that one damn script. If he'd just stopped for a second and thought it through, he would've realized that having it performed at a regular club event wasn't that bad. But no, yesterday's Arzen had to go all out, letting his emotions run wild instead of using his brain.

Why did he fall apart so easily, over something that didn't even matter in the grand scheme of things?

His thoughts still replayed every embarrassing second of the day before, every misstep, every stupid reaction. And then, Raizel. Somehow, Arzen had managed to get involved with the main character himself. Just his luck.

Arzen knew he had overreacted, acting on impulse rather than his usual cool-headedness. But it was one of those days where those dark clouds just rolled in, no matter how much he tried to push them away.

It was one of those days where every little thing felt like it was teetering on the edge of disaster, where every thought spiraled into the worst-case scenario with no way out. The kind of day where no matter how hard Arzen tried, it seemed like nothing he did would make a difference, like he was just spinning his wheels in the mud, stuck in the same miserable place.

One of those days where Arzen couldn't shake the feeling that the world would be exactly the same, maybe even better off, without him. That no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough. And that thought, that aching certainty that he was stuck in an endless cycle of trying and failing, made it hard to see any point in moving forward.

There was a hopelessness that came with it, a belief that the future held nothing but more of the same—more setbacks, more disappointments, more evidence that he wasn't cut out for any of this. It was like staring down a long, dark tunnel with no light at the end, just an unending stretch of the same struggles he'd faced over and over again.

Back in his world, those days hit him hard. Alone in his tiny dorm room, he'd just curl up in bed and sleep the hours away, letting the weight of those thoughts pass until he could breathe again.

Now, here he was, in a world that wasn't even his, dealing with the same old feelings but with the added bonus of having people around to witness his breakdowns.

Yes. Yesterday was just one of those days when it all piled up and spilled over, and he had no way to stop it.

The irony wasn't lost on him as he pulled the covers back over his head, hoping to shut out the memory of yesterday and everything that came with it. But the memory clung stubbornly, refusing to fade. Arzen could practically feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck, his fingers curling into the sheets as if to anchor himself.