Chapter : 27
“Dokyung, you don’t need to worry too much about this audition. Honestly, this audition is already drawing so much attention that even placing in the top ranks will make a good impression here and there. That’s why you entered it, you know. You’re on a different level.”
At her manager’s words, Dokyung smiled faintly.
That was exactly the mindset she had going into this audition. She had already landed a leading role in a weekend drama and now was stepping into a good opportunity to secure a position in a mini-series.
A rising star. Though not quite ready to be called a lead, she was too talented to be confined to supporting roles.
“Unnie, I’ve changed my mind. I heard Director Lee Byungin might take charge of the overall direction of I Became a Gisaeng from the Crown Princess. If that’s true—”
It was one of the rumors circulating in the industry. The reason he, usually indifferent to anything outside the set, was participating as a judge in this audition was to personally choose the actor who would work with him.
Being involved in Director Lee Byungin’s project would be a tremendous boost to her filmography—something she didn’t even need to calculate to know.
“But still, Dokyung, you promised you wouldn’t be greedy. Even without this, scripts keep coming in for you. There are plenty of projects you want and will do.”
“Normally, the company would tell me to go for it, right? Isn’t it weird that you’re acting differently, unnie?”
“Last time you tried to snag a role—uh, never mind.”
The manager’s words were clear, but Dokyung kept her faint smile. She knew her manager meant that she should stop at nothing to win a role.
“Unnie, remember? Thanks to me, you got the team leader position. But more importantly… between Yoon Haein and me, who’s prettier?”
“Comparing you to Yoon Haein? She already retired from the industry. She only caused trouble before.”
Dokyung looked at her manager with the innocent, radiant smile of a young girl, full of anticipation.
When she entered Kyungsung Arts University, Yoon Haein, her batchmate, had already been fairly famous for her looks. Dokyung was irritated at how all the male classmates fawned over the seemingly ordinary Haein.
She was proud that Lee Hyuk, their classmate, hadn’t even acknowledged her back then.
The memory of Yoon Haein, which she had forgotten in focusing on the past, resurfaced.
That smile that made everyone’s heart flutter, the way she received endless encouragement from professors… no one disliked her. Except for Dokyung herself.
“Ugh, just thinking about it annoys me. I thought everything had collapsed, but here she is, clawing her way back up to stand on the same stage.”
Fiddling with her phone, Dokyung tossed it onto the sofa in frustration.
If this was Yoon Haein’s new debut stage, she’d make sure to step on it.
“Unnie! This is going to be really fun. I’m excited! I’m going to cancel all other schedules and focus on auditions for a while.”
“Uh, okay… do as you wish.”
Hearing the answer she wanted, Dokyung began humming with delight. Her manager flinched at the sound of her genuine happiness.
The waiting room was a bit messy. Scripts were scattered everywhere, costumes were unorganized, and above all, Haein wore a worried expression. Dojun frowned slightly without realizing it.
He approached Haein, leaving Gayoung, who seemed happy to see him, behind.
“I watched the filming.”
“When did you come? Why… why are you here?”
Haein’s tone was sharp. She didn’t want to show him her current state. Biting her small lips, her anxiety was evident.
Her foolish self, waking up drunk on Dojun’s bed in Paris, flashed before her eyes. Dojun’s gaze, silently watching her, made her uneasy.
She tried to hide it, but her discomfort was obvious. The person she least wanted to see at that moment appeared right in front of her.
“I just arrived. Also, through Gayoung, I heard there were some issues with the filming.”
“….”
The comment was directed at her, so Haein stayed silent.
“Haein, shall we try the line ‘My family is dead’ now?”
“….”
Haein hesitated. She had to show Seodojun that she couldn’t even utter the word ‘dead.’
Lee Hyuk, understanding the situation, stepped back slightly.
There wasn’t much time. Though he had asked the filming team to buy them some time, they needed to pinpoint the problem immediately.
Nodding slightly toward Haein, Lee Hyuk prompted her to rise slowly. Placing her hand on her pounding chest, Haein gathered her emotions.
As if to help her follow the emotional line, Lee Hyuk, acting as Officer Baek, stood in front of her.
Taking a brief breath, Haein began her performance. Dojun watched with his arms crossed.
“…My family is dead. That little flame in front of my eyes… extinguished…! Nobody! Nobody cared about that death!”
“Stop. That’s enough.”
Ah, that was the problem.
Haein wasn’t portraying Hongseol. Since it was a monologue, that didn’t matter. She just needed to appear as Hongseol.
But her performance lacked even a trace of herself. She was giving a dead performance, empty of anyone or anything.
When she said “my family is dead,” there was no sadness, sincerity, or regret in Haein’s eyes.
“Yoon Haein.”
“Yes.”
“You still haven’t accepted Haejin’s death, have you?”
“…!”
Hearing her younger sister’s name, Haein’s eyes trembled slightly. Dojun ignored it and continued speaking.
If things continued like this, recommending Haein for the audition would have been useless—he would have pushed her into false hope.
He didn’t want his promise to help her take a step forward to vanish into thin air. More accurately, he didn’t want to watch her collapse like this.
“Here. This is a photo of the script that was beside Haejin’s body at the time of her death.”
Haein instinctively turned her head upon hearing about death. The waiting room immediately went cold.
Gayoung, worried, grabbed Haein’s arm. Lee Hyuk seemed ready to block any other harsh words from Dojun.
“Ha… stop… can’t we stop?”
“Stop? Then people will say, ‘Ah, Yoon Haein has a painful past, so let’s understand this much! Yes, she did well enough.’ Do you think that’s enough?”
Dojun’s unusually sharp words pierced Haein’s chest like a knife.
“Haejin is dead. You must have seen her body yourself. But there’s something even the reporters didn’t know.”
Half-closing her eyes, Haein listened, facing a reality too hard to accept soberly.
“Do you remember this script?”
Seeing the script in the site photo, Haein’s eyes trembled.
“…!”
It was small but recognizable. That script was…!
“This script was created as an event when Temptation exceeded expectations. The cover is made of sheepskin and contains the lead actors’ autographs. Only 100 copies were printed and distributed at the Temptation Night event.”
“….”
“…Actually, it was 130 copies. Some additional 30 were made for industry people who wanted them as souvenirs.”
The on-site photo she had seen at the police station had been a tiny image tucked among hundreds of pages of investigation records.
Other than knowing the script was there, there was no way to discern what it truly was.
