I Want to Be a VTuber

"What? Park Jungwoo actually decided to take that role in the movie?"

Hwang Minhwa’s sharp eyes gleamed at the words from her junior actress, Yeon Ari. Under that piercing gaze, Yeon Ari instinctively shrank back.

Hwang Minhwa had always been someone with a strong presence—like a walking luxury brand.

Whenever she walked into a room, it felt as though light followed her. It was the kind of aura that made people think, Ah, so this is what it means to be an actress.

But at the same time, that aura often carried a heavy sense of intimidation.

Especially when her usual gentle demeanor was stripped away, revealing her true self.

"Yes, yes, I think the news has already spread everywhere."

"Hmph... That guy..."

They weren’t close enough for her to casually call him “that guy,” but he wasn’t here, and besides, he was younger than her.

Sure, Park Jungwoo had debuted earlier as a child actor, but in terms of age, Minhwa was older.

“Park Jungwoo agreed to appear in that movie? Is there something about it I don’t know?”

She couldn’t figure it out.

Director Jo Bangwoo was a washed-up has-been who had tanked several projects in a row recently.

Investors had even been debating whether to keep pouring money into the film after Yeon Ari dropped out. And now Park Jungwoo was stepping in?

“Why?”

The Park Jungwoo she knew was meticulous.

He had inherited his father’s talent—good looks, acting skills, and an eye for picking the right projects.

A man who had everything.

He didn’t hang out with other actors, and no one even knew what he did in his personal life.

“At his age, someone that successful should at least want to show off a little.”

Minhwa had tried several times to form a connection with Park Jungwoo.

But every time, he brushed her off with a polite smile, never leaving even the smallest opening.

A stuck-up bastard.

Actresses who had made advances on him all said the same thing.

Still, his squeaky-clean personal life and unmatched self-discipline only made him more desirable.

The more untouchable he seemed, the more tempting it was to try and break through that wall.

“Of course, I wouldn’t bother. He’s probably the most boring man alive.”

Regardless of her opinion about his personality, there was no denying that Park Jungwoo had a keen eye for good scripts.

He wasn’t someone who’d make decisions on a whim or out of nostalgia.

There had to be something more.

"Ari?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think it’s too late for me to take that role?"

"Wait—Unni, you?"

Yeon Ari stared at Minhwa in shock.

After all, she had only turned down the role because Minhwa told her to.

And now Minhwa wanted to take it back because Park Jungwoo joined?

Yeon Ari had already declined once, so she couldn’t go back even if she wanted to.

"Hmm. Yes, I know. I’m sorry about that. But you do remember I originally intended to take that role and gave it to you, right?"

"That’s...true, but..."

Technically, she wasn’t wrong.

The movie, Seoul Escape, had initially been Minhwa’s project.

Director Jo Bangwoo had personally asked Minhwa, who had risen to fame through his earlier works, to help him out one more time.

Of course, Minhwa had agreed—only to push it onto Yeon Ari later.

“But I didn’t have a choice.”

No one in their right mind wanted to sign onto a movie that already looked like a flop.

Especially not Minhwa, who had become hyper-aware of failures after her recent project, Utopia, underperformed.

If not for that setback, maybe she would’ve agreed to do the movie out of pity.

“But.”

Thanks to Ju Seoyeon, that damn girl, Minhwa had no desire to risk appearing in another potential failure.

Utopia wasn’t a total disaster, but it wasn’t the stepping stone Minhwa needed to move up to a better agency.

Another flop could trap her in Horizon Company forever, and Minhwa wasn’t about to let that happen.

"Don’t worry. I’ll talk to the director myself. And besides, you’re still feeling guilty about turning it down, aren’t you?"

"Well...yes, but..."

Yeon Ari hesitantly nodded.

She hadn’t been that enthusiastic about the movie in the first place, so it didn’t matter to her.

What did bother her was Minhwa’s sudden change of heart.

"Director? Oh my, it’s been a while. Actually, about the movie—if it’s still open, I’d like to join..."

Without hesitation, Minhwa called Director Jo Bangwoo.

From his perspective, having Minhwa agree to appear would be an instant win.

The combination of Park Jungwoo and Hwang Minhwa—two proven actors—would immediately reassure investors.

It might even encourage more funding!

But—

"...What? I have to audition?"

Minhwa couldn’t believe her ears.

Director Jo Bangwoo sounded genuinely flustered as he explained.

[Park Jungwoo insisted. He said he’d only take the role if the female lead was cast through auditions. He wants to pick someone who fits his chemistry.]

"Ha!"

Minhwa let out a scoffing laugh.

Since when did Park Jungwoo get so arrogant?

“So, you’re that kind of guy too, huh?”

Jo Bangwoo clearly couldn’t refuse Jungwoo’s demand.

Not just because Jungwoo himself carried influence, but also because of his father—Park Sunwoong, a legendary actor.

One word from Park Sunwoong, and Jo Bangwoo could lose everything.

"Fine. I’ll do it. The audition."

Minhwa hung up the phone.

It was still Jo Bangwoo’s movie.

There wouldn’t be any other decent actresses auditioning.

Minhwa was confident in her skills.

After all, she had once been the star of Nova Entertainment.

"Unni, but isn’t this movie physically demanding?"

"What? It’s fine. You know I’ve been doing yoga and working out lately. If anything, I’d prefer something physical."

Not just yoga. Minhwa had also taken an interest in martial arts and picked up several techniques.

Her toned body showed the results of her efforts.

If the role required physicality, all the better.

“But if Park Jungwoo insisted on auditions, there’s definitely something more.”

Minhwa couldn’t shake the thought.

If Park Jungwoo went this far to have a say in the female lead, there was definitely something bigger at play.

*****

“Are you sure about this?”

Director Jo Bangwoo glanced nervously at Park Jungwoo, clearly gauging his reaction. Today’s meeting had been arranged specifically to discuss Jungwoo’s lead role in the movie.

Given Jungwoo’s casting, Bangwoo wanted to iron out the details.

But then, Hwang Minhwa had called.

“Yes, I’d appreciate it if you continue to handle things as we discussed.”

“But still, it’s Hwang Minhwa we’re talking about...”

Bangwoo’s tone carried a hint of regret.

Understandable. After all, Minhwa’s name alone was enough to draw attention.

Not to mention, this was originally supposed to be her movie.

She’d claimed she was too busy and handed it off to her junior, but still.

Bangwoo had accepted it gratefully at the time, desperate as he was.

“I knew this would happen.”

Jungwoo crossed his arms and sighed.

This wasn’t how he wanted things to play out.

Rumors about the demands he’d made for casting could easily tarnish his reputation.

No matter how much of a washed-up director Bangwoo had become, news of an actor dictating conditions like this could easily backfire.

For now, people might assume he had a good reason, but—

“All because of her. Damn it.”

Of course, dropping Ju Seoyeon’s name would’ve solved everything instantly.

But if he did that, Bangwoo would have agreed without hesitation, and Jungwoo couldn’t allow that.

Not when Seoyeon wanted to win this role based purely on her talent.

“Anyone with enough clout would want to skip the audition entirely.”

That’s why Jungwoo had reached out to Bangwoo personally.

He hadn’t expected Hwang Minhwa to make a move, though.

“...A tough opponent, huh?”

The thought crossed his mind, but it only made him chuckle.

This movie was practically made for Ju Seoyeon.

Reading the script had made it obvious why she’d been drawn to it.

“It’s good.”

But how had she even known?

The script hadn’t been available yet.

Jungwoo briefly studied Bangwoo’s expression.

He’d initially assumed this was just Bangwoo cashing in on an old debt, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

This movie was too good to let fail.

And now, Jungwoo understood that better than anyone.

“It seems the cast is mostly settled. Are there any other concerns we need to address?”

“Well... The investors seem satisfied for now, but there’s still one major issue.”

“What’s that?”

“Screenings. And marketing.”

“...The investors aren’t supporting that?”

“They are. GH Group promised support, and I trust they’ll follow through. But the number of screens... I doubt we’ll get many.”

Given Bangwoo’s recent track record, no one was expecting much from him.

To make matters worse, his son was also working on a movie, and early buzz suggested «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» it was going to be a massive hit.

The only saving grace was that their release dates didn’t overlap.

But even then, the competition was fierce.

Several high-profile international films were set to release around the same time.

“That’s...”

Even Jungwoo couldn’t do much about that.

It wasn’t as if he could just waltz into GH Group and demand more screens.

“Well, I think it’ll be fine.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

“Hah. That would be nice, but let’s not get our hopes up.”

Bangwoo chuckled dryly, but Jungwoo just smiled faintly in response.

No, he couldn’t do anything about it.

But someone who could was about to step into the audition room.

*****

One Week Later.

Seoul Escape Auditions.

One by one, actresses began to appear at the audition venue for Seoul Escape.

At first, the arrivals were relatively unknown names—aspiring talents hoping to gain something just by appearing alongside Park Jungwoo.

For them, the film’s success was secondary. Their real goal was to build connections with Jungwoo.

“Wait, is that Song Hyunmi?”

“Wow, Park Jungwoo’s influence is no joke. She’s always so cautious about picking roles.”

Gradually, more recognizable names began to show up.

Actresses who had starred in hit dramas.

Supporting actors who had appeared in films with over five million viewers.

Actresses who had the recognition and momentum to transition into leading roles.

‘Whew, at least there aren’t any full-fledged leading actresses here.’

‘This isn’t too bad. I can still compete.’

Each actress glanced at the others, trying to size up the competition.

The presence of well-known names only reinforced their belief that there must be something special about this movie.

And then—

Click.

The sharp sound of high heels echoed, drawing every eye to the door.

The door opened slowly, revealing sleek white heels.

A long, elegant leg stepped into view, commanding everyone’s attention.

In that moment, all the actresses collectively held their breath.

‘Wait... Hwang Minhwa?’

‘Seriously? Why is she here?’

‘She’s actually auditioning? With us?’

Wrapped in a form-fitting designer dress and carrying a luxury handbag, Hwang Minhwa exuded elegance.

Her aura was just as dazzling as her attire.

She was the luxury actress—the kind who always had the title “star” attached to her name.

Her piercing gaze swept the room, and none of the other actresses dared to meet her eyes.

Even Song Hyunmi, whose name had caused a stir moments earlier, lowered her gaze in deference.

It was clear.

The gap between Hwang Minhwa and the others wasn’t just one of experience—it was raw talent and presence.

“Hmph.”

Minhwa let out a soft scoff.

‘Just as I thought—nothing but amateurs.’

A handful of rookies with decent reviews.

Some who got lucky riding the coattails of bigger hits.

That was it.

With a confident click of her heels, Minhwa strode to an empty seat and scanned the room.

Her eyes searched for Park Jungwoo.

But he wasn’t there.

‘Judging? Of course.’

Since he had requested the auditions, it was obvious he’d be part of the judging panel.

Minhwa smirked.

The idea of Jungwoo losing himself in admiration for her performance made her look forward to the audition.

‘Still... if this is all there is, it’s disappointing.’

The whole thing felt like a waste of time.

Just sitting in the same room as these actresses made her question her own status.

But Minhwa crossed her legs and leaned back, unfazed.

‘It’s not my fault the others were too scared to show up.’

Actors at her level likely hesitated, unwilling to risk their careers on an unstable director like Jo Bangwoo.

For someone like Minhwa, whose reputation had been built step-by-step, the idea of losing it all was terrifying.

But Minhwa thrived on high-stakes decisions.

Her rise to fame hadn’t been luck—it was bold judgment calls like this that got her there.

Clunk.

While Minhwa was lost in thought, the door creaked open.

She glanced at her watch—five minutes until the audition started.

The final arrival, cutting it dangerously close.

‘Showing up late? What kind of amateur...’

Her disinterested gaze shifted to the door—

And froze.

‘Wait.’

Minhwa’s face hardened.

The figure entering the room was unmistakable.

Hair as dark as midnight.

Crimson eyes that seemed to glow under the dim lighting.

Porcelain skin that contrasted sharply with the shadows.

A lean frame and graceful steps.

No nervousness. No hesitation.

It was an aura that felt completely out of place for an audition.

“Ju Seoyeon?”

Someone finally broke the silence.

Even after seeing her with their own eyes, the actresses couldn’t quite believe it.

She was one of the busiest actresses of the year—yet here she was.

Seoyeon stepped inside, her gaze sweeping the room before landing briefly on Minhwa.

Meanwhile, Minhwa’s lips pressed into a tight line.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Seoyeon wasn’t supposed to be here.

In contrast, Seoyeon let out a subtle sigh.

‘I almost didn’t make it.’

Riding the subway had nearly made her late.

Her manager had insisted on taking the car, but Park Jungwoo had called last-minute.

He told her not to rush and to come safely, either by car or subway.

As a result, she was cutting it close—and now found herself under the weight of everyone’s stares.

It was mildly irritating.

All because she didn’t want to make a dramatic entrance.