Chapter 15
Da-eun’s bright face twisted with pain.
“Why is it always someone else first? Does independence feed us? Your daughter’s hungry! Isn’t surviving more important?”
She yearned for her parents’ affection, yet was furious at her own childishness.
Her emotions — sorrow, helplessness, and shame — all tangled together until they ached.
Young Lee Seon’s voice was tender and beautiful, but the sorrowful expression and glistening tears filling her eyes struck deep.
“……”
Reporter Joo Han-seop clenched his eyes to hold back tears. Around him, quiet sobs were heard.
Time passed on the screen.
The day the rice cake shop was torn apart by Japanese officers after someone’s betrayal.
“You must never, ever get caught.”
Knowing both her father and mother would die, the young Seon’s face was filled with grim determination as she fled.
She ran and ran.
The camera chased through the forest with the wind, relentless.
Soon, the screen showed her arriving at the address her mother had given her — her face now calm and focused — safely delivering the letter and the funds.
A man sitting at an old wooden table checked the letter and the independence funds and asked,
“Are you Lee Seon?”
When the young girl nodded, actor Kwon Min-gu, playing independence activist Choi Jung-ho, organized the documents and asked again,
“Will you follow in your parents’ footsteps?”
Bathed in sunlight, young Seon’s face filled the screen.
Her eyes, once lost in despair, now sharpened with purpose as she faced forward.
“…Yes.”
For a moment, Reporter Joo felt as though her eyes met his beyond the camera — that brief flicker of resolve in the face of death struck him so powerfully he forgot to breathe.
Light and shadow danced over Seon’s face as time seemed to pass, the room brightening and darkening.
Then, with the caption “10 years later,” the young Seon had grown into a woman.
Without any awkwardness, Kang Da-eun’s face seamlessly transitioned into Lee Ju-ran’s.
“Whoa…!”
Gasps of admiration erupted through the theater — the transition made it feel like the two actresses were truly one and the same.
The real story had begun.
⁂
“This’ll hit ten million easily.”
Even from the opening scene, the immersion was overwhelming.
Even after the credits rolled, the first ten minutes still lingered in everyone’s minds.
Secret Letter maintained an impressive level of completion until the very end, but the emotional pull of the opening owed much to Kang Da-eun’s performance.
It could rightfully be called the discovery of a new star: Kang Da-eun.
Reporter Joo, sitting outside the theater with his laptop open, began writing his article with fiery enthusiasm.
He even wanted to pay to watch it again after its official release — not for Lee Ju-ran this time, but for Da-eun’s acting.
A few days later, the poster shoot for We Must was underway.
Da-eun was on break after finishing her individual shots.
“Here, drink this.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Da-eun accepted the water bottle offered by her co-star, Soo-hyuk.
After nearly two weeks of late-night filming, the cast and crew had grown fairly close.
Over there, she could see Hye-young talking with the male lead, Jung Si-won.
Though they worked face-to-face on camera, Da-eun and Hye-young avoided each other during breaks.
Da-eun had tried to be polite for the sake of the set — exchanging greetings, small talk — but Hye-young would just smile sweetly and ignore her.
That was fine. As long as the drama turned out well, Da-eun didn’t care to pretend to be close.
She took another sip of water, thinking about the next scene.
The staff preparing for the group poster shoot looked far too busy for a break; Da-eun felt a pang of guilt.
Manager Moon had sent snacks for everyone, but honestly, finishing quickly with a clean, high-quality shoot was the best treat.
“It’s our first free morning tomorrow. I’m going out to meet some friends tonight — wanna come?”
Soo-hyuk was a ten-year veteran actor with an impressive filmography and plenty of celebrity friends.
He had a good public image too.
Though only a supporting actor here, he’d appeared in several successful projects and was rising fast.
But—
“I appreciate it, but I think I’ll rest. This pace is new for me, and I’m exhausted.”
Da-eun declined with a polite smile. Soo-hyuk looked disappointed but tried to persuade her.
“It’s good to build connections. Next time, okay?”
He seemed like a kind senior looking out for her, but Da-eun knew the truth.
Three years later, he would be sued for fraud.
He had borrowed a total of 1.5 billion won from his acquaintances for failed business ventures.
He never repaid it, and once people began exposing him, his crimes came to light.
He’d used all sorts of excuses — his parents’ surgery bills, a “can’t-fail” stock tip, early investment opportunities.
Several celebrities had fallen for his lies.
Da-eun remembered it all — it had happened just before her regression.
The scandal had set the internet and social media ablaze.
People could change circumstances, but not character.
And information like this? Invaluable.
“Let’s start shooting!”
The shout echoed across the set. Da-eun stood, gripping her water bottle.
Next to her, Soo-hyuk groaned as he stretched lazily to his feet.
“Oh, and Hye-young’s coming tonight too. If you change your mind, just say so, okay?”
He winked and jogged off to join Jung Si-won and No Hye-young, throwing his arms around their shoulders.
Da-eun simply watched them and turned her focus to the upcoming shoot.
Meanwhile, Hye-young glanced at her — lips twisting slightly.
After work, Da-eun’s manager told her that she’d been scheduled for an audition for the crime-action film Jackpot.
The audition would be in fifteen days.
Her role: a thief named Si-ho.
“Please drop me off in Gangnam. I’ve got somewhere to stop by.”
Tomorrow morning was finally a rare break.
She recalled that Soo-hyuk and Hye-young had mentioned hanging out in Itaewon tonight.
“Alright, I’ll pick you up tomorrow then.”
After getting out in Gangnam, Da-eun sent Ha-jung off and began walking through the busy streets.
The evening air was pleasantly cool.
She was there to observe people.
She had analyzed every film and drama featuring characters similar to Si-ho, but something still felt lacking.
She wanted to see more — real people in real situations.
Si-ho’s actions and dialogue were hard to grasp otherwise.
In Jackpot, Si-ho was confident, alluring, and bold — the complete opposite of Da-eun’s naturally calm demeanor.
“Hmm… maybe I should check out a bar.”
As she walked aimlessly, she realized she’d reached her limit just watching people on the street.
In the film, Si-ho was a heavy drinker who never got drunk — she lived for nightlife.
Da-eun decided to visit a bar, order a drink, and observe how people who genuinely loved alcohol behaved — their expressions, gestures, speech patterns.
But she had no idea which bar to choose.
Standing at a busy intersection, she looked around uncertainly.
“Fancy seeing you again, junior.”
A familiar voice cut through the city noise. Startled, Da-eun turned — and there stood Yoon Joo-hyuk.
“How are you here again?”
Wide-eyed, she looked at him in surprise. This was already the third time they’d run into each other by chance.
Joo-hyuk looked down at her, smiling softly.
“It’s a coincidence. This time, really.”
“Sorry?”
It was too loud to catch his words clearly, so she asked again — but he only smiled wider.
He looked genuinely happy.
And for some reason, Da-eun’s heart began to ache.
