Chapter 12
Da-eun headed toward her agency’s internal practice room.
In “We Must Be Together”, the female lead was a pair of twins, so the main and supporting actresses needed to have similar facial features.
Originally, the plan had been for one actress to play both roles, but since there were too many overlapping scenes, the parts had been split in two.
Gong Seol, who was originally cast as the main lead, and Da-eun had similar appearances — their height, hair length, and large eyes. With just a few makeup adjustments, they could give off the same impression.
Even though the role was supposedly guaranteed to BM Company, these details had clearly been taken into consideration.
“It feels like it’s been a while.”
She used to come here regularly to practice, but it had been three years since her last visit.
Da-eun changed into the practice clothes from her locker and sat in front of the mirror. She began by stretching.
Both her body and facial muscles needed to be fully relaxed for her acting to flow naturally.
As she stretched gracefully, she recalled the plot of the drama.
When they were children, twins Uri and Nari were abandoned and adopted by different families — one poor, one rich.
Years later, they happened to meet by chance at the New York airport.
Though they had grown up in vastly different worlds, they had always wished to meet again — so they recognized each other instantly.
Nari, who was about to marry into a famous chaebol family, was desperately searching for a look-alike to act as her stand-in while she secretly gave birth to a child she conceived by mistake.
She needed someone to attend school in her place during her pregnancy, since her adoptive parents couldn’t know and she couldn’t take a leave of absence.
When she encountered Uri, the twin she had been separated from as a child, it felt like fate.
Nari rejoiced, saying she had finally found her double, and Uri — who needed money for her adoptive mother’s surgery — accepted the offer.
Thus Uri moved into Nari’s New York home.
At first, Uri was just a scholarship exchange student staying for two weeks, but she gradually began to desire Nari’s luxurious life — she wanted to have it for herself.
Although at first glance Uri and Nari’s roles seemed to have similar weight, the title made it clear who the true protagonist was: Uri. Her emotions and story were explored much more deeply.
The audition scene involved Uri walking through Nari’s house for the first time and experiencing a wave of complex emotions.
It was a subtle yet emotionally demanding scene.
As she pondered which expressions and tone of voice would best convey the character, the door to the agency practice room suddenly swung open.
“……”
It was No Hye-young. The moment their eyes met through the mirror, silence filled the room.
Hye-young frowned, then took a spot far away from Da-eun with tense, irritable steps.
Da-eun looked away from Hye-young, focusing on her script again. As she memorized her lines and analyzed the character—
“Hey.”
Hye-young suddenly spoke in a provocative tone.
“You know this time it’s in my favor, right?”
At the random remark, Da-eun lifted her gaze from the script. Hye-young, still stretching with one leg extended, continued.
“You’ve never lost anything, have you?”
Da-eun let out a hollow laugh at Hye-young’s absurd assumption.
Perhaps irritated by that amused reaction, Hye-young snorted and fired off words like bullets.
“What would a girl who’s had everything since she was little know about loss? Every time you audition, you always snag the lead role in school productions.”
She claimed that, because she herself had experienced deprivation, she could better understand Uri’s emotions.
“Since you got the lead in Secret Message, I think I’ll take this one.”
Da-eun, who had listened quietly, finally spoke.
“Do you really think I’ve never lost anything?”
In her past life, she had lost both her healthy body and her brilliant youth to a gas explosion.
She had lost her dream.
She had lost her life.
She had lost faith in friendship and the friend she had believed was her everything.
She wondered, No Hye-young — what did your kind of loss feel like?
Holding her script, Da-eun stood up. Seeing Hye-young reminded her of how she had once trusted her completely, not even realizing she was the one who’d left her scarred.
Her emotions churned so violently she couldn’t focus anymore.
Deciding she’d practice at home instead, Da-eun packed her bag. Just before leaving the room, she turned to Hye-young.
“Yeah. I guess I’ve always beaten you in auditions, haven’t I?”
Hye-young’s brow crumpled instantly. Finding her expression amusing, Da-eun smiled sweetly.
“Do your best this time.”
Please, she thought, do well enough to meet my expectations — because no matter how hard you try, I’ll still win again.
“Yoon Ju-hyuk.”
As Ju-hyuk was leaving the editing room, Director Sa Mi-hyun called out to him.
The first-round edit of Secret Message had been completed, and they had just finished the final cut together.
Only the post-production remained — that was the director’s responsibility.
Since Sa was skilled, it would no doubt be finished as perfectly as in his previous life.
But why had she called him back?
Rummaging through her desk, the director handed Ju-hyuk a business card.
“……”
It was from Director Shin Jung-geun, the one in charge of “We Must Be Together.”
Ju-hyuk looked at her with a peculiar expression.
Moments like this sometimes happened after he’d turned back time — moments that felt like fate.
Director Shin was probably working with writer Kim Hee-sook on that same drama — the one Da-eun would star in.
“Director Shin’s schedule got messed up,” Sa explained. “He’s looking for a fast, skilled editor, so I recommended you.”
“Ah.”
That had happened in his past life, too. Back then, he’d been so busy with his own project he hadn’t paid much attention.
He remembered that Da-eun had really struggled then — working with last-minute script changes and pulling all-nighters.
“Is something wrong?”
Her question pulled him from his thoughts. There wasn’t. In fact, his plan had always been to join We Must Be Together’s staff — this just made it easier.
He shook his head, slipping the card into his pocket.
“I’ll get in touch.”
Director Sa’s brows twitched, as if she didn’t quite like his attitude.
He could tell she thought he was the type who never showed gratitude, no matter how much someone helped him.
Sa was one of the rare directors in the industry who valued horizontal relationships. Even in situations where others might have cursed, she remained calm.
“Thank you,” he said with a polite bow.
Her eyes widened slightly, surprised — it seemed her impression of him as someone who never bowed was still intact in this lifetime.
Leaving the editing room behind, Ju-hyuk walked through the bustling broadcast station lobby and exited the building. The parking lot was full, so he’d parked elsewhere.
As he stood at the crosswalk under the bright sun, a familiar face appeared on the building’s electronic billboard.
“She’s beautiful.”
It was Da-eun — in a vitamin drink commercial.
Her lively face filled the giant screen.
Beside him, someone gasped and spoke to their friend.
“Wow, who’s that model? She’s so fresh. Makes me wanna try that drink!”
“Yeah, especially in this heat. Oh, there’s a convenience store — let’s go!”
As the light turned green, people hurried across the street. Smiling faintly, Ju-hyuk walked leisurely after them and entered the store.
On one shelf, bottles of the vitamin drink featured Da-eun’s printed face.
“To pay, please.”
He bought one, stepped outside, twisted open the cap, and took a drink.
The cool lemon scent and tangy sweetness spread across his tongue.
“Tastes like Kang Da-eun,” he murmured.
Addictive.
Satisfied, Ju-hyuk drained the bottle. He stared at her printed face for a long moment, then couldn’t bring himself to throw it away — he carried it back to his car instead.
Setting it in the cup holder, he looked at it once more before starting the engine, his lips curved in a rare smile.
The morning of the We Must Be Together audition arrived.
Da-eun carefully reviewed her character analysis and dressed in an outfit suited to the role.
“We’ve arrived, Ms. Kang.”
Her newly assigned manager, Lee Ha-jung — selected by Chief Moon — was a woman around her age, with a gentle impression and kind eyes.
Chief Moon had said she was still in training and might not be fully prepared, but she seemed much better than expected.
“Oh, and… I saw your CF! It was so good!”
Ha-jung admitted shyly that she had become a fan.
“Thank you.”
Da-eun smiled, thinking they could get along well in time, and stepped out of the car toward the audition venue.
The hall was empty.
It was originally meant for script readings, so it was spacious — but all the tables and chairs had been cleared for the auditions.
Only one table was left in the center for Director Shin and Writer Kim, while a few staff members finished setting up.
“Hello, I’m Kang Da-eun.”
A staff member arranging chairs nodded absently.
“Please wait a moment.”
“Yes.”
Smiling, Da-eun stood off to the side. She thought about helping, but the setup was almost done.
One wall was stacked high with folded chairs, and on the other, long tables were neatly lined up.
A staff member swept up scattered paper scraps and straightened the judges’ table.
Da-eun quietly surveyed the open space, wondering how to incorporate it into her performance.
“Here early, aren’t you?”
Writer Kim Hee-sook had entered, seemingly done with preparations.
“Hello, ma’am.”
“Mm. Wait outside for now — we’ll see you one by one.”
“Yes, understood.”
Out in the hallway, she ran into Hye-young again, who was leaning by the window studying her script. Hye-young looked up briefly, met her gaze, then turned away as if she hadn’t seen her.
Da-eun didn’t mind — she had no desire to greet her either — and stood a little ways off.
After a short wait, Director Shin Jung-geun appeared at the end of the corridor.
Without greeting anyone, he entered the audition room. One of the staff who had followed him turned to the two actresses.
“Ms. No Hye-young, you can go first.”
“What?”
Hye-young stared at the staffer, then smiled.
“I’d prefer to go after her.”
