Chapter 27
Sitting in the back seat, Daeun hesitated as she touched her stiff cast.
It was only suspicion, with no solid evidence.
And yet—how long had it even been since the gas burner incident? How could something like this happen again so soon?
Things like this could happen anytime, so she needed to give her manager a heads-up.
“You know that Hye-young and I used to be friends, right?”
Daeun cautiously opened her mouth.
“We were pretty close back in school, but the moment we entered society, our relationship fell apart.”
After the Secret Letter audition, Hye-young had become hostile. And during the filming of the variety show Run, People, when the director scolded her for not following directions, she had even impersonated Daeun.
And this time—in the pushing scene—at the moment Daeun slipped and fell unintentionally, Hye-young had been laughing. Daeun confessed everything to Hajeong.
She couldn’t forget the look in Hye-young’s eyes—thrilled, as if excited by the thought that she might hurt someone.
“Is she seriously insane?”
Who would go that far out of jealousy? Dumbfounded, Hajeong let out a disbelieving laugh.
After a moment of tapping the steering wheel in thought, she spoke again.
“I’ll drop you off at home, and then I’ll go back to the set. Kiju was probably filming the making-of video. If we’re lucky, the camera might’ve caught her laughing.”
The main cameras would’ve stopped recording when Director Shin called cut, but the making-of cameras were a different story.
“And I’ll keep a closer eye on things. God, she’s really crazy.”
Hajeong repeated again and again that she would watch Hye-young closely and prioritize Daeun’s safety.
Checking Daeun’s condition through the rear-view mirror, she hesitated before speaking.
“I’m fine,”
Daeun answered with a smile. Hajeong lifted the corners of her lips in a bitter smile and continued.
“No, that’s not it. Chief Moon told me not to say anything yet, but… I want to tell you. Chief Moon is going independent soon.”
It had happened in her previous life too, but it was earlier than expected this time, and Daeun widened her eyes in surprise.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah. And I’m going with him. I’d like you to come too, Daeun.”
She said she had heard about what happened with CEO Bae Yong-seop and Manager Park Do-yun, and if Hye-young—who was openly hostile to Daeun—was also in BM Company, then it wasn’t safe for Daeun to stay there anymore.
“Chief Moon wants to give you the choice, but… what’s there to think about? Come with us. Okay?”
They were such good people. Daeun smiled brightly and nodded.
“I will. Thank you—for offering.”
Just as she answered, they arrived at her apartment. Hajeong parked, got out, and helped Daeun out of the car.
The two briefly made eye contact, walking side by side with surprisingly light steps.
“Oh, right!”
Inside the officetel building, as she held the elevator door open, Hajeong suddenly clapped her hands.
Her sudden gesture made Daeun tilt her head.
“There’s some good news.”
She said she completely forgot because of the accident earlier. Hajeong winked as she continued.
“I was going to give you a surprise. Wait right here!”
Leaving Daeun standing with her crutches, Hajeong ran out to the car. What could it be? Confused, Daeun simply stood there waiting.
When Hajeong came running back holding what looked like a book, she beamed as she spoke.
“Congratulations, Siho!”
“Ah…!”
Oh my god!
Speechless, Daeun stared at what Hajeong was holding. It was a script.
Why did tears sting her eyes when she read the title Jackpot on the cover?
In her previous life, this role had not been hers. Which meant she had assumed her chances were low this time as well. She had done her best, but she never actually expected to pass.
“Thank goodness… Thank you.”
“Thank me? You earned that role yourself! You worked so hard.”
Holding back emotion strong enough to make her cry, Daeun grinned and hugged Hajeong tight.
“It’s thanks to you.”
“Oh, stop it. Get plenty of rest and read through the script. I’ll let you know as soon as any new schedules are set.”
“Yes.”
Waving goodbye, Daeun got into the elevator. Her heart felt like it would burst.
When she passed the Secret Letter audition, it had been right after her regression—it was hectic, and relief at beating Hye-young had overshadowed everything else. We Will Surely Be was a guaranteed role within BM Company.
Maybe that’s why passing the Jackpot audition felt so rewarding—like she had taken a real step forward on her own.
“I should read it from the beginning.”
After arriving home and sitting on the sofa, Daeun opened the first page of Jackpot. The clean, vivid scene descriptions and the meticulously crafted dialogue made her heart race.
She devoured the script, visualizing the two-hour film scene by scene.
She analyzed the transition points, the symbolism of props, the subtle nuances in particles and sentence endings in the dialogue.
Once, twice, three times…
Without realizing time passing, she read and reread, committing the entire script to memory.
Then suddenly—her stomach growled loudly.
“I haven’t eaten anything today.”
Hajeong had prepared a meal, but filming kept going, and she felt she would get sick if she ate too soon. Then the injury happened, and everything was chaotic.
She finally closed the script, grabbed her crutches, and headed to the kitchen. She pulled out a pre-ordered salad pack and sat at the table.
“Ah… I should’ve brought the script.”
Her injured leg made walking back to the sofa difficult.
She stared blankly at the phone she had brought with her, then lifted her fork and took a bite of salad.
“You’re still far from ready, Kang Daeun.”
Absentmindedly scolding herself—she should have brought the script instead of her phone.
She ate in silence, remembering how lost she had been when she first tried to study the character Siho.
Even imitating Siho’s behavior had been difficult. She tried copying references and materials, but in the mirror, everything looked awkward and ill-fitting—like she was wearing clothes that didn’t belong to her.
That was when she had gone to Gangnam. It had been impulsive, but the bar she ended up in had great atmosphere, perfect for observing people and shaping a character.
“…”
What was this? Daeun felt like she was forgetting something. She tilted her head. She hadn’t gone alone, had she?
Who had gone with her? Not her manager… definitely not a friend.
Aside from Hye-young, she didn’t have any friends she was close enough to meet outside.
Letting out a sigh, she finished her salad and kept trying to remember.
If she couldn’t recall the person, maybe she could recall the process?
She remembered watching a woman holding a cocktail approach a table with a man she liked, and imagining what Siho would do in that situation.
Then, when she couldn’t understand Siho’s contradictory actions, she had asked someone—and that person…
“Ah!”
Daeun put her fork down with a loud clatter and gasped.
‘What’s the most precious thing to you, junior?’
It was Juhyuk’s voice, echoing in her ear as if whispered right beside her. His face, lighting up like a thrilled child when he spotted her by chance on the street, came vividly to mind.
‘Have you ever lost it? What if you lost it because of your own mistake?’
She also remembered how he quietly waited for her to think deeply before answering.
Her chest tightened strangely.
“I should thank him.”
Thanks to him, she understood how to portray contradictory emotions. He had told her to contact him anytime if she needed help, but then abruptly cut himself off, as though realizing he was crossing a line.
They had met by coincidence multiple times, maybe that was why—Daeun felt strangely close to him.
In her past life, she had seen him only as a distant senior.
‘If you think of me…’
He had answered readily when she finished the words he couldn’t bring himself to say, but his smile had held a quiet loneliness.
“Why did he look like that?”
It was the kind of expression that made her feel he wouldn’t answer even if she asked. Yet she couldn’t help wanting to understand it.
Speaking of Senior Yoon—around this time in her previous life, he had started making a new film. The one that eventually swept the top three international film festivals.
She wanted to audition if there was a role for someone her age and gender—but unfortunately, there wasn’t.
She wondered if he would sweep the festivals again this time. She’d have to ask him casually later if he had any projects coming up.
Daeun grabbed her phone and typed a message.
Thank you, she wrote. Thanks to you, I passed the audition.
After reading the message over unnecessarily carefully, she sent it, a shy smile lingering on her lips.
<Senior, I passed the Jackpot audition! It was thanks to your advice. Thank you!>
Juhyuk froze when he received Daeun’s unexpected message.
How could this be?
God had erased her memories and placed restrictions so she couldn’t remember him.
She wasn’t supposed to think of him.
So how—how could she remember him well enough to send that message?
