Episode 2. Stage: When the Night Flowers Bloom
Pushing aside the clutter scattered across the floor, I stepped into my tiny one-room apartment and immediately powered on the tablet I had bought from the antique shop.
It didn’t even have a brand name on it—honestly, I’d wondered if it was just some kid’s toy.
“Have I really been this gullible my whole life? It’s an old model, sure, but at least it turns on.”
I decided to trust the old shopkeeper and took a leap of faith.
But if I wanted to enjoy my ten-thousand-won “lucky find,” I’d need a bit of patience first.
Please charge the battery (0%).
Of course. Being an antique, the charging port required a 5-pin cable—something barely anyone used these days.
Who even uses 5-pin anymore? Well… my outdated phone does.
I quickly plugged in my phone charger, and the battery indicator flickered to life.
Still, ten thousand won for this? It felt like I’d gotten it for free—like receiving a Christmas present in the middle of summer.
This is what they mean by a gift from Santa, Lee Seongtan. No—Lee Satan, you jerk.
It was only when my phone rang—an unfamiliar number starting with 010—that regret crept in, as if I had just walked straight into a trap.
—No, I said I wanted to talk directly to the writer. Why am I getting some assistant nobody—hello?
I can hear everything, you know?
“Hello? Could it be… Actor Lee Seongtan?”
—Could it be? Can’t you recognize my voice?
I swallowed the irritation rising from deep within and spoke slowly.
“I couldn’t, which is why I asked…?”
—It’s me. A Christmas miracle. Santa’s gift. Lee Seongtan.
“Yes, well. Lovely introduction.”
—What did you say?
Damn. That slipped out.
“Ah, I meant—I’m Song Dallae from Sillim. I was asking if you heard my introduction clearly.”
—Are you insane?
I managed to patch things up with quick thinking. Or so I thought.
—Whatever. We need revisions.
“Revisions… of what exactly?”
—You think Episode 20 works as it is?
“What seems to be the problem…?”
A sigh poured through the receiver like a storm wind. The silence that followed felt like the calm before disaster.
—The fact that you’re asking me that means you don’t understand the script at all. Are you really an assistant writer?
“So… you’re saying you don’t like the content?”
—Are you crazy?! You’re going to report it to Writer Oh like that? Are you threatening me right now?
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
This felt like a game of Twenty Questions—guess what offended him.
And on a hot Saturday night? I had zero patience for this kind of drawn-out nonsense.
In just one hour, it would finally be Sunday.
My one precious day of happiness—my day off.
And of course, this had to happen now. The one person determined to ruin it—my dear actor.
—Why does Yoo Gong go rescue Kim Younghee from the cult first? Why make me look like an idiot when I’m perfectly capable?
“Well… Chulsoo is the type who chooses to love quietly from a distance—”
—There’s already public opinion saying Yoo Gong is the real male lead. Why are you fueling that? Whose idea was this?
Mine, actually. Somehow, while brainstorming, Yoo Gong just… ended up going to rescue her.
“Well, the writer agreed with that direction…”
—You.
“Pardon?”
—You did this, didn’t you?
“Why would I—”
—A lighter. You got all worked up over a stupid lighter.
A lighter?
That day flashed through my mind.
The stale alleyway smell rising from a manhole. Seongtan’s sharp gaze as he looked down on me while holding a cigarette. The brief flare of light when the lighter sparked.
If it weren’t for Junho, that night would’ve been a complete disaster.
I glanced at the mint candy carefully placed by my bedside—also something Junho had given me that day.
—Anyway, just fix it. Especially now that even the “Warruru Pizza” commercial went to Baek Junho.
“Oh… really?”
Did I sound too pleased?
I cleared my throat and ended the call with, “I’ll discuss it with the writer,” using the excuse of poor connection to hang up.
What rotten luck.
Still, I couldn’t let this ruin my mood—not right before my day off. Especially not because of Lee Seongtan. Even feeling annoyed at him felt like a waste.
Isn’t this exactly what fangirling is for?
I quickly opened my laptop and typed Baek Junho into the search bar, ready to drown myself in the flood of information.
“When the Night Flowers Bloom” — Baek Junho Meets His ‘Career-Defining Role’ as Yoo Gong
One article at the top caught my eye.
Clicking it revealed a full magazine interview with Junho.
Q. If you were to define ‘Yoo Gong,’ what comes to mind first?
A. Thrilling. Unlike me, he doesn’t measure his actions. And… well, he’s a top star actor.
Is this what humility looks like in words?
I was smiling as I read when—
A. Also… he’s like a wild chive flower.
Q. A wild chive flower?
A. Before it blooms, something like a needle wraps around it—like it’s protecting it.
Wait…
Did he think of me when he said that?
Or… was he intentionally referencing my name?
Either way—why?
Even knowing it was probably my imagination, my heart began to race.
His gentle smile still lingered vividly in my mind.
A. Please keep watching to see why Yoo Gong had no choice but to become the leader of Chulsoo’s secret organization, ‘Orange,’ and why he fills his empty life by causing trouble.
As expected—my true prince.
I never imagined I’d fall for an actor.
At this point, I couldn’t even tell whether I liked Yoo Gong or Baek Junho anymore.
But what did it matter?
Yoo Gong was Baek Junho, and Baek Junho was Yoo Gong. Separating them was impossible—they were completely intertwined in my mind.
Just as I was trying to calm my fluttering heart over something as trivial as “wild chive flower,” the tablet screen lit up brighter.
100% charged. Please power on.
What should I check first?
Naturally, I should start with Baek Junho’s filmography—purely for character research, of course.
But as I reached to turn it on, another message appeared.
Battery is at 100%. Are you sure you want to power on?
What kind of question is that?
Without a second thought, I pressed the button.
And then—
As if fainting, my vision went dark.
Where am I?
The wallpaper felt familiar. The atmosphere, the scent—everything.
It was like a drama set.
What a ridiculous dream. Of all things, dreaming about a set?
But wait—aren’t dreams supposed to be black and white?
This room was vividly colorful, almost painfully so.
My head throbbed.
Let’s think. I was looking at the tablet before my day off. Did Writer Oh call me in the meantime?
As I struggled with the gaps in my memory, someone knocked on the door.
The sound—too real.
“Who is it…?”
Before I could react, the door burst open.
Standing there was none other than Kim Younghee, the female lead of When the Night Flowers Bloom.
Or… was it Actress Kyeon Yeonji wearing Younghee’s face?
She rushed in and hugged me tightly, her face on the verge of tears.
“I missed you so much. When I heard you were coming back to Korea after ten years, I couldn’t sleep at all.”
“Excuse me…? Ten years? I’ve never even been abroad. Younghee—no, Ms. Yeonji?”
“Yeonji? What are you saying? It’s me—Kim Younghee. Your English kindergarten classmate! Lee Yang-ah’s childhood friend!”
Lee Yang-ah…?
I’d never heard that name before.
A new character?
Then a chilling thought crossed my mind.
“The villain who returned from studying abroad was actually the final boss…”
Is this some kind of prophetic dream?
Or—
That damn woman, Oh Jeongsuk. Living up to her name as a “copywriter,” stealing ideas again.
Just wait until I wake up. Just wait until this drama ends. I’m reporting her to the labor office and collecting unemployment benefits.
“Yang-ah…? Why do you look so upset?”
“Ah… something came up.”
“What happened?”
Younghee’s warm hands covered mine, her eyes filled with concern—like she’d cry with me if I told her everything.
Right. This is who Younghee is.
A warm-hearted protagonist who gently melts others’ pain.
Of course she is.
After all, the Younghee I created… was based on Kyeon Yeonji.
The very actress playing her.
Kyeon Yeonji—the leader of the once-criticized girl group Miracle.
To others, they were a failed idol group.
But to me, they were a miracle—the only comfort in my miserable commute.
“…Instead of empty consolation, I’ll tell you my story. Sometimes, you don’t have to try so hard. It’s okay to be tired.”
Her self-composed song “Instead” had made me cry countless times by the Han River.
I even used it as inspiration when shaping Younghee’s character.
A woman honest about her emotions, moving forward instead of dwelling on the past.
A woman who lives for the future.
Though Writer Oh had turned her into a passive, candy-type heroine.
Still, I had openly supported Yeonji when she transitioned into acting after the group disbanded.
When she was cast as the lead in When the Night Flowers Bloom, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep.
“Yang-ah? What’s wrong?”
“I… I was a fan of Miracle.”
“…Miracle?”
In real life, Yeonji seemed to want to leave her idol past behind. So I kept quiet about how much “Instead” had influenced Younghee.
“Yang-ah?”
I took her hands firmly.
This is a dream.
So maybe… just maybe… I could say the things I never got to.
How often do you get a dream this vivid?
“Ms. Kyeon Yeonji… I really liked you. I still do. I’m happy you’re the female lead.”
“Yang-ah, who is Kyeon Yeonji…? And what do you mean ‘female lead’?”
Her clear, confused expression reminded me—even in a lucid dream, things don’t go exactly how you want.
Still…
“I guess you wouldn’t understand. It’s fine. I’m sorry.”
“Yang-ah… I think something’s wrong with you!”
“…Yeah. I suppose so.”
Seeing me as unstable, she rushed out to call a doctor.
Whatever.
It’s just a dream.
I lay back down.
If I sleep, I’ll wake up.
Just as I was about to close my eyes—
The door slammed open again.
Four familiar figures stormed in.
Park Chulsoo, heir to the top conglomerate Saseong.
The troublesome top star, Yoo Gong.
Shin Gaeul, the hidden youngest son of the pharmaceutical giant Hanje.
And behind them, barely holding back tears—Kim Younghee.
“LEE YANG-AH!!! WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUNGHEE THIS TIME?!”
Chulsoo’s shout startled me.
I had felt it earlier—but the sensations here were far too vivid for a dream.
Wait…
What if this isn’t a dream?
Then…
Am I inside the world of When the Night Flowers Bloom?
Really?
The realization hit a second too late, my eyes widening.
Maybe…
The one who intruded into this world—
wasn’t them.
It was me.
