I Want to Be a VTuber

Actually, even Jiyeon, who had known Seoyeon for a long time, hadn’t expected this kind of reaction.

Jiyeon was, of course, familiar with the term "red pill."

After all, as someone involved in the VTuber world, how could she not know?

That’s why Jiyeon had consciously avoided directly bringing up "Lamiel" when talking to Seoyeon.

Seoyeon had always been a peculiar person since childhood, making it difficult to predict how she might react in situations like this.

But for Seoyeon to pass out completely just from watching Alice's "red pill," not even Lamiel's, was beyond imagination.

And when she opened her eyes an hour later...

"I'm sorry," Seoyeon said.

"I passed out suddenly while we were talking."

"?!"

"I think... I was on my way to meet Seohui."

At Seoyeon’s words, everyone exchanged glances.

Could she have forgotten everything about seeing "Alice"?

"No, no, that’s impossible," Jiyeon thought.

She noticed Seoyeon’s lips trembling slightly.

Right, there was no way someone could lose their memory just from fainting for a moment.

"A grave misstep!"

As Jiyeon suspected, Seoyeon hadn’t forgotten what happened.

She simply wanted to forget.

"I completely forgot Alice’s stream time."

It must have been the nerves—being in the presence of a corporate chairman, and not just any chairman, but Jo Seohui’s father.

It was likely the pressure that caused her to faint.

Of course, Seoyeon wasn’t connecting Alice directly to Jo Seohui.

In other words, despite the external appearances of VTubers, Seoyeon genuinely believed that the characters they portrayed during streams were entirely separate entities.

...Well, Lamiel, who persistently shoved red pills at her, made that belief impossible.

Still, since Alice kept her identity discreet, Seoyeon had convinced herself to think that way.

But then she ended up consuming the most extreme red pill she had ever experienced—even worse than anything Lamiel had thrown at her.

"I don’t know how I’m supposed to look at Alice anymore..."

"Is it really that bad?"

Jiyeon was left speechless at Seoyeon’s reaction.

She also felt a bit relieved that it hadn’t been her own stream that caused the issue.

Meanwhile, Seohui, who had unknowingly displayed such an embarrassing side of herself to her friends, felt utterly wronged.

"Did they hear me laughing like ‘Oh-hohoho’? They probably did, didn’t they?"

Watching her own VTuber persona on screen was fine.

But showing that side of herself in person was an entirely different matter.

Sure, being an actress might make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.

But even actors feel embarrassed.

After all, she had performed under the assumption that no one would actually see her like that. Feeling embarrassed was only natural.

"Anyway, it’s good to see you’re healthy. Broadcasting so diligently even in this situation—you’re really someone to look up to."

"...It sounds like you’re mocking me when you say it."

Jiyeon handed over the fruit basket she’d brought along as a gift.

Seohui accepted it with a curt response and then turned to look at Seoyeon.

Seoyeon, however, avoided meeting Seohui’s gaze.

It felt as though their relationship had reverted to the awkwardness of their initial reunion.

Feeling downcast, Seoyeon pouted.

"Seoyeon was furious," Jo Seokhwan, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up.

Furious? At what? Could it have been because of the red pill?

That couldn’t be it.

After all, Seoyeon had only fainted and woken up just now.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she wasn’t pleased when I expressed my disapproval of you pursuing an acting career. She was so upset that she directly spoke out against me."

"...Really?"

Seohui knew her father well.

He was a man of considerable poise and dignity, befitting his position as the chairman of a conglomerate.

His presence alone carried an air of authority, making it difficult for anyone to challenge him.

But for Seoyeon to argue with him—and for her sake?

"It just sort of happened," Seoyeon muttered, her expression returning to normal.

Having watched Seohui up close, Seoyeon knew how earnest she was about acting.

So when her father spoke that way, it was only natural for Seoyeon to get upset.

Of course, she felt a little embarrassed about having spoken without fully understanding his perspective.

"Well then, I think I’ll head out now. You seem to be doing fine," Seoyeon said, trying to get up.

But Seohui raised a hand to stop her.

"Wait, wait. Since you’re here, there’s something I wanted to tell you."

"...Something to tell me?"

"We’re heading to Japan again soon."

This time, it wasn’t for Japanese variety shows or dramas.

They were purely going for the filming of Kyungsung Lady.

The snow-covered scenery and a mansion that perfectly suited Michiko’s character were both there.

Aside from that, there wasn’t much to see.

"After the last shoot, some people from a Japanese broadcasting company approached Director Baek Min," Seohui continued.

Currently, there were also people from a Japanese broadcasting company at the Kyungsung Lady set.

They were filming behind-the-scenes footage to later air as a promotional documentary in Japan.

After the previous shoot, they had approached the director with a specific request.

"Stella?"

"Yes, Stella Baldwin. Asher Baldwin’s adopted daughter. The ‘Fairy of the Century.’"

Seohui spoke with a serious expression.

Among actresses under 20, Stella Baldwin was undoubtedly at the top.

Though her recognition in Korea wasn’t particularly high, she was wildly popular in Europe.

At a young age, she had starred in a film adaptation of a famous fairy tale, which became a massive hit and won numerous awards.

Since then, her career had been nothing short of stellar.

"But why is that actress suddenly interested in us?"

"Apparently, she wants to visit our set. She’s even open to making a cameo appearance."

A cameo.

Seoyeon narrowed her eyes at the peculiar suggestion.

She had already heard about why "Asher Baldwin" had reached out to her in the past.

He had contacted her after being surprised by her cameo appearance in a Japanese drama.

"Is it really that big of a deal?"

Seoyeon did wonder, but she could understand why it might be.

After all, she had been fairly confident in her performance at the time.

However, the fact that Stella suddenly wanted to visit the set and mentioned a "cameo" was oddly unsettling.

"It’s probably just baseless speculation..."

But if it wasn’t, there were many concerning aspects to Stella’s behavior.

Director Baek Min was undoubtedly more recognized overseas than domestically.

Still, that alone wouldn’t justify Stella visiting the set personally.

And wanting to appear as a cameo?

It just didn’t add up.

"So, what did Director Baek Min say?"

"Apparently, he said he didn’t mind."

"...Seriously?"

Knowing Director Baek Min’s personality, it was clear he would normally hate having outsiders on set.

And yet, he allowed Stella to visit?

Could he have also approved her appearance as a cameo?

Surely, having Stella join as a cameo would boost the film’s popularity significantly.

But Director Baek Min wasn’t the kind of person to make decisions based purely on marketability.

"Do you know the reason, Seohui?"

"I have no idea."

Jo Seohui crossed her arms, her expression unreadable.

It seemed even she couldn’t understand Director Baek Min’s intentions.

Surprisingly, actor Lee Sangsoo had said it was fine, which likely made it harder for Jo Seohui to oppose the idea.

"Anyway, don’t be surprised if you run into Stella on set. Especially since Director Asher Baldwin contacted you, right?"

"Yes."

"Then even more so. From what I’ve heard, Stella deeply respects her father, Asher Baldwin."

"I understand."

Seohui’s explanation only added weight to Seoyeon’s speculations.

"There’s a lot to think about..."

What was meant to be a simple visit to check on Seohui had turned into a conversation filled with revelations.

Although there was no way to know more about Stella Baldwin until they met her in Japan...

"Jo Seohui’s mother..."

It seemed like something Seoyeon needed to learn about as well.

If she didn’t, she might inadvertently make a mistake.

+++++

After meeting with Jo Seohui, Seoyeon had some rare free time.

Broadcasting stations and various entertainment programs had been sending her love calls, but she showed no interest in appearing on any of them.

For now, her focus was entirely on Kyungsung Lady.

Once that wrapped, she’d have to start filming Mine immediately afterward.

And in between...

"The audition for Director Jo Bangwoo’s film."

In a month? Maybe two?

It would likely be announced around then.

Given her career, Seoyeon could easily ask to be considered directly, but the issue was her limited experience—she’d only been an active actress for a year.

No matter how well she’d performed this year, it felt strange for someone with only a year of experience to say, "Please include me."

Especially since she was still in her teens.

To other actors, she was nothing more than a rookie.

If she joined without an audition, it might cause unnecessary misunderstandings or breed distrust.

"For now, it doesn’t seem like there’s been any word about the audition."

Browsing the internet to gather information, Seoyeon nodded to herself.

This was something she’d likely have to ask Park Eunha about later.

"Well then..."

Seoyeon began searching for something else—something she’d heard during her visit to Seohui.

Jo Seohui’s mother.

The "Cinderella" who married a corporate chairman.

Korea’s "National Younger Sister" and beloved actress.

Or the supernova of her time.

She looked up information about Baek Seoran.

Unsurprisingly, most of the articles were quite old.

They had been written long before Seoyeon had even appeared in The Moon That Hides the Sun.

"Ten years... no, even earlier."

Before Jo Seohui’s debut.

Before she earned the title of "The Princess of Daily Dramas."

Typing "Baek Seoran" into the search bar, Seoyeon found that many articles seemed to have been deleted.

It was possible that "NewLike Group" had requested their removal.

Even journalists couldn’t keep publishing articles that upset a conglomerate.

Especially if her death had been under unfortunate circumstances.

However, she did find one article.

[Reflections on a Star-like Actress]

That was the title.

Seoyeon hesitated before clicking on it.

Something about it felt ominous.

"A year ago, the actress who shone like a star passed away.

From the moment she debuted, she was called Korea’s ‘National Younger Sister,’ and every project she took on earned her the title of ‘National Actress.’

It’s nights like this that make one wonder when another actress like her will ever appear in Korea again."

The article began with these words.

It was strangely emotional, resonating deeply with Seoyeon.

The feelings the writer had for Baek Seoran seemed to pour through the text.

"Most of it is about Baek Seoran’s accomplishments."

The article detailed how incredible she was as an actress,

the impact she had on Korean cinema and television,

and the legacy she left behind.

Reading it felt like going through a fan’s tribute.

And perhaps the writer was a fan.

But the ending was as follows:

"But the star’s light ended so suddenly.

Her fans,

and the people who always prefixed her name with ‘National,’

didn’t even notice the signs before she disappeared.

The brilliant light left behind only a deep, overwhelming darkness that makes it hard to even gaze upon the end.

Perhaps because she shone so brightly, that darkness feels even more suffocating.

No one expected such a bright actress to make such an extreme choice.

Even now, I can’t believe it."

An extreme choice.

Those words caught Seoyeon’s attention.

It made her hesitate to scroll further.

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the article didn’t go on much longer.

Just a few more lines.

"Her only daughter was the first to discover her at the end."

After reading that, Seoyeon closed the browser.

It was clear that this was the "unwelcome article" Jo Seokhwan had mentioned.

When searching for "Baek Seoran," this article didn’t appear easily.

Only by chasing after the term "star-like" could it be found.

Suddenly, Seoyeon remembered the first time she had met Jo Seohui.

The way Jo Seohui had scoffed, calling her a "nepotism case."

Back then, only a few years had passed since Seohui had lost her mother.

In hindsight, Seohui’s attitude seemed extraordinary given the circumstances.

Especially if the claim that she had been the first to find her mother after such an extreme choice was true...

"That—that’s why she called herself a nepotism case back then," Seoyeon recalled Jo Seohui’s recent explanation.

Reflecting on this, Seoyeon felt a chill run down her spine.

"...Did I do something wrong?"

For reasons unrelated to her VTuber persona, Seoyeon felt at a loss about how to face Jo Seohui.