Chapter 8
Inah’s eyes, fixed on Dohyun, were a storm of conflicting emotions.
Unconsciously, she swallowed hard, her throat dry with tension. She thought they had exhausted every possible conversation yesterday, so what could he possibly want to say now?
Dohyun’s deep eyes were sometimes impossible to read, and Inah parted her crimson lips slightly, unsure.
“Is it about the production?”
Even though she knew the answer, Inah asked boldly.
He let out a small laugh, a mix of disbelief and amusement.
“You still can’t hide your expressions.”
“….”
“Why so tense? Afraid I’m going to devour you?”
“…If it’s not about the production, let’s not have a personal conversation.”
Inah’s firm words sparked a strange heat in Dohyun’s gaze.
Ah… now she understood what he was thinking.
He was curious about her connection with Logan.
“Someone you’re seeing?”
“Didn’t you hear earlier? The producer who came from an American production to see the project…”
As Inah spoke, she suddenly realized she was defending herself, trying to clarify that she had no relationship with Logan, and hastily shut her mouth.
Thinking back, why was she elaborately explaining to him not to misunderstand, when they had nothing at all between them?
A surge of defiance rose in her, and she furrowed her brows sharply, glaring at him.
“But… why are you curious about that?”
Dohyun’s gaze met her sharp retort with a tilted, inquisitive look.
Turning away from him, Inah shifted her body.
“As I said yesterday, there’s nothing between us anymore. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“….”
“So, could you stop blocking the door and step aside?”
As if to enter the rehearsal room, Inah moved forward, but Dohyun, with his large frame, blocked her path.
This time, Inah’s frown was impossible to hide. She stared at him, her lips pressing together.
His lips moved slowly.
“Strange…”
At the low murmur, every nerve in Inah’s body tensed, and she felt her strength drain.
Dohyun studied her uncertain gaze silently before narrowing his eyes.
“I don’t recall you being such a liar… but from the day we first met until now, it’s all lies?”
Her face stiffened at his words. No matter how unlikely, what if he had seen through everything? A cold sweat trickled down her back.
“What are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you know what’s the one thing you can never hide, no matter what you conceal, Director?”
“….”
“It’s your eyes.”
His low voice echoed quietly in the empty hallway.
Inah’s heart sank.
“Don’t stare at me like that. You, Seoinah, have already given yourself away. Your voice, your tone, your actions… I see everything, even when you try to act normal in front of me.”
“…Please don’t try to test me. Why on earth would I be acting in front of Baek Dohyun?”
Inah steadied her trembling heart and, pretending indifference, followed through with his words. Then, as if fleeing, she passed by him standing at the door and entered the rehearsal room.
Watching her retreating back, Dohyun’s low voice followed.
“Lying becomes a habit if you do it enough, Director.”
“….”
“You weren’t drunk when you said you couldn’t forget me.”
Her heart skipped erratically at what felt like a confession. Her lips, which had once cut him off sharply, remained tightly shut, and she simply looked at him with uneasy eyes.
Dohyun stepped closer, meeting her gaze again.
“You said you had nothing with the producer just now, right? I also said yesterday I have nothing with Seorin. So, that means neither of us is seeing anyone?”
Why did he feel the need to clarify the relationships around them so firmly?
Inah quietly met his unwavering gaze. She had always liked this honesty in Dohyun’s eyes—so clear, so pure that just looking at them made her feel light. His gentle smile, his unwavering will to achieve what he desired… everything about Dohyun remained unchanged. And yet, watching him now made her mouth taste bitter.
Then, his final words pierced her heart.
“Let’s try again.”
Inah stared at him, stunned.
Dohyun continued.
“Let’s date again.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her mind froze as she opened her eyes wide, staring at him. She should say no, but her lips wouldn’t move.
Just then, the commotion outside suggested the other actors had arrived.
Dohyun added, almost like sealing the moment.
“You’ve sorted your feelings on your own, so I’ll start on my own too.”
Seorin, cast as the female lead in the musical directed by Inah, had been acting since she was six, making this her twentieth year in the profession.
As a child, her clear voice and delicate features drew attention. She believed that by adulthood, her filmography would fill an entire page.
She dreamed of being a renowned actress, sought after by directors across South Korea.
But over time, her confidence plummeted, plunging endlessly.
“Seorin, wait a moment.”
“Yes?”
“Playing Rosalind, facing Orlando now… wouldn’t she feel both pleased and confused?”
“Ah, yes…”
“I think you need to express the emotions more deeply than now.”
Whenever someone corrected her, Seorin felt utterly inadequate. No matter how hard she tried, it never seemed enough.
She forced a smile at Inah, sitting across from her.
“I’ll try again.”
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Seorin was a fairly average actress—average looks, average talent, nothing particularly remarkable. Compared to others, she was still beautiful, but the industry had marked her as neither here nor there.
This musical was her chance to regain attention.
“Seorin, is this scene difficult for you?”
Watching Seorin push herself, Inah’s gaze sharpened slightly. Today’s rehearsal was a blocking run, synchronizing singing, acting, and movements with co-actors—often the toughest day for performers.
For Seorin, attempting musicals for the first time, it was natural to struggle.
Inah, watching her catch her breath, spoke.
“Shall we take a short break and try again?”
Seorin shook her head, signaling she could continue.
Dohyun, her scene partner, suggested a brief pause, but Seorin was determined to stay focused.
Yet despite her resolve, the movements faltered, clashing with Dohyun, and Inah frowned.
The music in the rehearsal room stopped abruptly, like the fragile composure Seorin had been clinging to.
“Seorin, is it difficult to understand Rosalind’s emotions?”
Inah smiled gently, trying to understand Seorin’s inexperience.
After all, how could a twenty-six-year-old grasp the depth of Rosalind’s situation—meeting her former love Orlando again, still loving him, yet unable to ignore reality and pushing him away?
Inah glanced at Dohyun, seeing herself reflected in this scene. The absurdity of him insisting on resuming their romance while acting as if nothing had happened had unsettled her throughout the rehearsal.
If her emotions were this easily swayed, how could she protect what was hers?
“Then, Seorin…”
“Would you demonstrate it yourself, Director?”
Before Inah could finish, Dohyun’s voice overlapped, smiling at her.
“Together with me.”
