Chapter 17

Between announcing that I’d be transferring schools and hauling my things over to Jaedamjae, the first day of filming arrived before I knew it.

I’d been scrambling to get ready since the morning, and before long Aunt Jeong-hui had appeared at my side, striking up a conversation.

“Hey, where are you off to? A date?”

“What? No!”

“Then what?”

“Filming……”

“Filming?”

Come to think of it, Aunt wouldn’t know the whole story yet. Even if she knew Seong Hye-sim personally, it wasn’t as if the two of them would have sat around discussing me.

So I rattled off the whole thing, starting from how I’d been cast as a child actor. Aunt listened as attentively as if she were my manager.

“Your co-star is Do Je-hyeon? I heard his personality’s a bit much.”

“Oh, that’s true!”

“Does he throw his weight around at you too?”

“That’s… probably not?”

“Hmm.”

I started to nod, then stopped myself.

If anyone could put Do Je-hyeon in his place, it was Aunt. But I had to think of it as saving a life and let it go.

Aunt stood with her arms crossed, watching me bustle about. After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice clear and decisive, as if she’d come to some conclusion.

“I’ll drive you. Come down once you’re ready.”

“Me?”

“Who else would I be putting in my car?”

Aunt shot back curtly.

Under her unrelenting stare, I scrapped my half-formed plan to just take public transportation.

I’m grateful, of course, but…

No, wait — wasn’t someone at Aunt’s level supposed to be busy?

“You were just thinking Aunt has nothing better to do, weren’t you!”

“……Eek!”

“I have plenty to do. Plenty — so don’t you worry about that.”

Did she have mind-reading powers or something!

I shook my head frantically, but Aunt only narrowed her eyes as if she already knew everything. Only after I pressed my palms together and begged did her mood ease a little, a smile spreading at the corners of her mouth.

“If you’ve got time for this, go pack your things.”

A hand gave my back a light push, carrying an awkward sort of warmth in it.

In the car, on the way to the set.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“Please, it’s nothing.”

After thanking Aunt, I went back over the schedule for the first shoot, which I’d already memorized down to the letter.

Episode one was carried mostly by the child actors, so I’d heard the filming would be split into several sessions. Even after arriving on time for the call, I’d still have to wait an hour or two before my own scenes came up.

“Um, Aunt……”

“What, what is it.”

“Once you drop me off, you’re heading straight back, right?”

“What?”

Aunt shot back sharply, as if I’d said something utterly absurd.

But — didn’t you just say you had so much to do…

“I came to watch you act. Waiting around is nothing to me.”

I’d naturally assumed that once I got out of the car, she’d head off to work or whatever else she had on, but Aunt declared, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, that she’d be staying with me.

“Just say I’m your manager.”

“Oh, manager……”

“What. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, no. Not a problem at all……”

How many rookie actresses in the world had a manager decked out head to toe in luxury brands, trailing after them…

But Aunt already seemed thrilled at the thought of going to the set. There was no way I could talk her out of it now; it was plain any attempt would be useless.

Sigh. I let out a breath too quiet for Aunt to catch, then turned my attention back to the script.

I’d already read it and memorized it more times than I could count, but since it was my first day of filming, I wanted to put on a flawless performance. For the people who’d believed in me when I was still nobody at all.

Byeon Seo-jun, cast as Yeon Do-hun, the older brother of Yeon Do-yeon in the drama, dreaded today’s shoot.

It wasn’t because of the production staff. Writer Choi Gi-jeong wouldn’t be coming to set, and he’d landed the role on the strong recommendation of Director Woo Byeong-hwa, with whom he’d worked before — so his backing was more than solid.

On top of that, Yeon Do-hun was only a special appearance, showing up in episode one and a flashback scene. The part was short, so he’d thought the filming wouldn’t be difficult. Right up until recently, at least.

Having debuted as a second-generation idol before turning to acting, he was still lacking in what people called “seasoning.”

Byeon Seo-jun had only started acting because he was tall, well-proportioned, and had the classically handsome face of an “actor type” through and through. Even that hadn’t been his own idea — it had been his agency’s suggestion.

Since he’d started anyway, he wanted to do it properly, so he’d been taking acting lessons, but he was still more confident on stage than in front of a camera.

My acting isn’t exactly amazing, but……

Honestly, he’d figured a special appearance wouldn’t demand much in the way of acting ability, so he’d be fine. He’d believed he could coast through it.

After all, what the public expected of him wasn’t genius-level acting — it was his face.

That was how he’d felt, right up until he’d matched a script reading with the actress playing his younger sister. Joo Sae-i.

So embarrassing……

When he closed his eyes, he could still see himself in the reading room, caught up in Joo Sae-i’s performance, momentarily stumbling over his lines. Not losing his lines had been about the only thing he had going for him.

If she could put off that kind of presence just in a reading room, then on set, it would only be worse.

The thought that if he went easy on his lines the way he’d originally planned, he’d get swallowed up all over again like last time, kept his stomach in knots. It was pathetic, he thought, to be this worked up over a mere newcomer.

Ever since that first time he’d been overwhelmed, he’d kept reading over the script.

But the more he read it, the harder it got. Yeon Do-hun wasn’t the light, shallow role he’d assumed.

Part of him wanted to drop the casting now while he still could, but another part wanted to face her head-on, and he couldn’t bring himself to withdraw so easily. It also wouldn’t have been fair to Director Woo Byeong-hwa, who’d pushed hard for him despite Writer Choi Gi-jeong’s objections.

In the end, he arrived on set without having made any progress at all. Weighed down by the pressure, the wait for his turn felt like an eternity.

Meanwhile, Joo Sae-i, who’d arrived on set for her very first filming ever in her life, looked remarkably at ease. Whether it was simply that she had the skill for it and so felt no nerves, she went through hair and makeup with a composed, unruffled air.

Byeon Seo-jun deliberately looked away. Seeing Joo Sae-i already transformed into Yeon Do-yeon only made him feel pathetic by comparison.

But time passed, and at last the moment came to film the scene between Yeon Do-yeon and Yeon Do-hun.

The first scene the two of them would shoot was one where the warm, caring older brother Yeon Do-hun comforts Yeon Do-yeon after she’s hurt by their mother’s indifference. It was a scene meant to be inserted later, when Do-yeon, after her brother’s death, recalls him and feels the emptiness he left behind.

“Seo-jun, relax! Your expression right now is way too scary! You’re not a scary big brother!”

“Ah, yes!”

“Hm, Sae-i takes to the camera well. She’s basically Do-yeon already!”

Even the staff checking back and forth on his and Joo Sae-i’s condition grated on his nerves.

Fighting to settle his absurdly restless heart, Byeon Seo-jun stole a glance at Joo Sae-i, now that her hair and makeup were finished.

Unlike himself, eyes darting around with nowhere to land, Joo Sae-i’s face didn’t so much as flicker.

She probably doesn’t even care that I’m here. Figures. I’m beneath her notice either way.

Byeon Seo-jun chose the easiest path to calm his nerves.

This feels awful……

That path was to turn the girl standing right there into an enemy, if only to protect what was left of his pride.

The instant his dark, deep-brown eyes flared with that resolve, the crack of the slate struck everyone’s ears at once.

“……Hoo.”

Joo Sae-i let out a long breath. Byeon Seo-jun lifted his gaze, looked again at Joo Sae-i now settled into position as the script called for, and knew at once that his choice had been wrong.

“Ugh, get out of my room!”

In an instant, Joo Sae-i had become Yeon Do-yeon, shouting in a sharp, resounding voice. Perched on the edge of the bed, Yeon Do-yeon hugged her bag to her chest and stamped her feet.

“I told you I didn’t even want to look at your face, didn’t I, oppa……!”

A little sister who flings harsh words at her brother, yet still can’t bring herself to actually shove him out of her room.

A girl in the thick of adolescence, grateful for her brother’s attention even as she resents him for it, because she’s never once gotten that same attention from their mother, and so she can only pout and sulk.

“……Still, you have to eat. That’s how you grow.”

“I don’t care! Mom doesn’t even bother, so why does oppa have to?”

“Do-yeon, that’s……”

It’s because oppa worries about you. That was the line that was supposed to follow, according to the script.

But once again, Byeon Seo-jun only hesitated, his lips parting and closing without a sound. Just as it had happened during the script reading, when Joo Sae-i had overwhelmed him.

Only this time, it wasn’t simply because he’d been overpowered. It was just that——

I’m so humiliated.

Yeon Do-hun was supposed to cherish and love Yeon Do-yeon, and the shame of failing to do that, even in character, caught in his throat.

He knew exactly what kind of character Yeon Do-hun was, and yet he’d nearly let jealousy toward a gifted newcomer turn her into an enemy — and that made him feel small and unworthy.

For Seo-jun, who wanted to act well but hadn’t yet found the way to improve, Joo Sae-i was a minefield.

Watching her act was enough to make him realize all over again, as powerfully as the moment he’d first understood it, that Yeon Do-hun saw his little sister as the child closest to his heart — because Joo Sae-i was putting the whole of herself into being Yeon Do-yeon, body and soul.

The gap between them suddenly felt so real that Seo-jun simply couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth.

“Cut, cut!”

When Byeon Seo-jun failed to pick up his line and only stared blankly at Joo Sae-i, the director, unable to watch any longer, shook his head and called a stop to filming.

“Seo-jun, you seem really off today. Let’s just take it easy and go again in three minutes.”

“……I’m sorry.”

Telling himself this couldn’t go on, Byeon Seo-jun slapped his own cheeks lightly. If he didn’t want to be devoured by the tiger standing right in front of him — Joo Sae-i — he needed to pull himself together, and fast.