Chapter 1
“If it weren’t for that scar on your face, Da-eun, you would’ve become a big star.”
The words from Director Hwang, following the sharp sound of “Cut!”, pierced straight through Da-eun’s heart.
In front of the filming monitor, Director Hwang clapped his hands repeatedly.
“Wow, that action scene is killer, even on replay.”
Wiping the sweat from her face, Da-eun walked toward him. But instead of showing her the footage they’d just shot, he simply switched the monitor back to filming mode.
What a way to treat someone.
Da-eun was the exclusive stunt double for actress Noh Hye-young.
They were similar in height and build, both had long hair, and even shared a similar aura — maybe that was because they’d been working together for over three years, almost living in sync since their school days.
“What a waste, really. To think you’re just a stuntwoman. Your acting’s better than anyone else here, huh?”
Director Hwang glanced toward the car where Hye-young was resting and chuckled. His words were careless — and probably insincere.
Da-eun gave a faint, awkward smile. If you really thought that, maybe you’d at least let me see the footage.
“Only the fall scene left. Da-eun, get ready. Hey! Is the wire rig set up yet?”
The director shouted orders, pointing and waving as the crew rushed around to prepare the next shot.
Da-eun let the breeze dry her sweat-soaked hair and looked toward a car parked in the distance.
Inside, Hye-young was probably napping after an all-night shoot elsewhere.
Noh Hye-young — the hottest rising star in Korea right now — was also Da-eun’s dearest friend.
Three years ago, when a gas burner explosion left Da-eun with burn scars on her face, Hye-young had cried harder than Da-eun herself, as if the injury were her own.
Whenever Da-eun, after being dropped by her agency, thought about giving up on life, Hye-young had been the one to stop her. Despite her packed schedule, she’d still find small gigs and jobs to keep Da-eun going.
“Da-eun, want to try being a stuntwoman?”
It was Hye-young who’d suggested the stunt double path to Da-eun — who still couldn’t let go of her dream of acting.
Da-eun had accepted.
After all, with her face as it was, becoming a full-fledged actress seemed impossible.
But still — she wanted to act.
A stunt performer, a double — a faceless actor. That much, maybe she could be. Sure, her roles would always be limited, and she’d forever remain hidden behind someone else’s name…
But the chance to act at all was something Da-eun found beautiful.
After that, the emptiness in her eyes began to fade. She started to live with rhythm and purpose again — training daily at an action school Hye-young had introduced her to.
That was how her life as a stunt double began. She endured ridicule for her scar, harsh treatment that tested her limits —
“Ugh, look at that scar. Make sure post-production edits out every trace of it.”
“Da-eun, can you eat somewhere else? You’re killing my appetite.”
But every time, Hye-young had been there to stand beside her.
“Don’t let those words get to you, Da-eun. Let’s just focus on our work, okay?”
To Da-eun, Hye-young was a savior —
a friend more like family than her actual family overseas.
Da-eun genuinely wanted to see her succeed.
So whenever Hye-young came to her for help analyzing a role or preparing for an audition, Da-eun gave her everything she could — her insights, her notes, her passion.
She was thrilled when Hye-young’s auditions went well, when her dramas succeeded.
Sometimes, she felt a sting of jealousy — but she buried it deep down.
After all, thanks to Hye-young, Da-eun had found a reason to live again. She had achieved her own kind of dream.
Her scar itched faintly. Pathetic. Jealous of the person who saved me?
“Phew…”
Da-eun let out a long breath and looked out over the set, the cool wind brushing her cheeks.
Then a sharp voice cut through the air — the mic crackling.
“Alright! Let’s start with a rehearsal!”
Turning around, she saw Director Hwang gripping his megaphone in front of the camera.
The film Runaway was a female-lead crime action movie.
Following the staff’s instructions, Da-eun strapped on her safety gear and clipped into the wire harness.
A gust of wind whipped her tightly bound hair loose, scattering it across her face. The wind’s strong today. A twinge of unease fluttered in her chest.
The rehearsal ended, and filming began in earnest.
“Ready— cue!”
At the signal, Da-eun sprinted forward and kicked off the jump platform with power. Whoosh! Her body soared, slicing through the air, pulled upward by the wire.
Today’s stunt was a climb up a ten-story building — stepping on each protruding ledge, leaping higher with each bound, supported by the wire rig.
She was told the dangerous shots would all be done by her, and later Hye-young’s face would be composited in digitally.
Balancing mid-air was no small feat, but Da-eun’s movements looked effortless as she planted her feet on the building’s wall.
Director Hwang clenched his fist, thrilled at her flawless performance.
She climbed again — landing on the second-floor ledge, then jumping upward.
Whoooosh!
Suddenly, the wind howled. Her tied hair came undone, whipping violently around her face.
“…”
It was dangerous — she nearly missed her landing. This wind’s stronger than before… should I stop?
She waited for the director’s signal, but none came.
Thankfully, the gusts soon eased, and she moved again.
Fourth floor. Fifth. Sixth.
A drone buzzed nearby, capturing every angle.
Then, as she landed on the ledge near the seventh or eighth floor—
Click—!
The tension on the wire released. Her body dropped in an instant.
“Gasp—!”
Her hair flew wildly, her vision spinning. As the dizzying sensation overtook her, a huge gust hit.
Whooosh—!
The force of the wind swung her body like a pendulum, the wire straining under her weight.
A scream — not hers — echoed from below.
Da-eun tried to stay calm. It’s okay. The wire’s still attached. Even if I hit the wall, it’ll hold.
The wire was made of twisted steel — thick, strong.
That’s what she believed. Until something felt… wrong.
“—!”
Snap.
The faint tension tethering her to safety vanished.
The loose wire whipped through the air, and Da-eun’s body, pushed by the wind, plummeted.
The faint scent of antiseptic filled her nose.
Da-eun looked down — at her own body, covered with a white sheet pulled up to her face. Beside the bed sat her friend, her savior — Hye-young.
I… died, huh. Just like that.
That must be why she could now see herself from the side like this.
Her eyes drifted to the hospital tag listing her name and time of death. Then she looked back at Hye-young.
Hye-young’s face was pale. Still, Da-eun felt oddly grateful that she got to see her one last time.
After the explosion, I lived well enough — all thanks to you. I wish I could’ve told you that again.
Then—
“Hah. What a mess.”
Hye-young scratched her forehead, clicking her tongue.
Da-eun frowned. Something felt… off.
Wasn’t her reaction strange?
They’d been together for years, closer than family. When Da-eun had been scarred, Hye-young had cried until she could barely breathe.
So why—
“What are you thinking, dying like this?”
Da-eun’s vision wavered. What… did she just say?
She couldn’t believe it. Her eyes widened, disbelief tightening her chest.
Yet Hye-young only sighed irritably in front of her friend’s dead body.
“Do you know how hard it is to find a good stunt double?”
Da-eun’s mind went blank.
Is… this really the Noh Hye-young I knew?
