I Want to Be a VTuber

Who Is Hong Jeong-hee?

For Seoyeon, Hong Jeong-hee was a character she couldn't quite understand.

A person pushed to the extreme by their obsession with another. In her past life, Seoyeon had never experienced such emotions, never harbored affection for anyone. In this life, she had only known pure love and had no concept of twisted affection. The idea of developing such a deep obsession with someone like Bae Sung-hak was foreign to her.

She supplemented her understanding through Pyo Ji-woo’s acting. The emotions Pyo harbored for Min Seo-ho—so intense that she felt murderous rage when he betrayed her—served as a reference.

It was like watching an old black-and-white television or a silent movie.

Seoyeon analyzed each aspect of these emotions, trying to comprehend them even if she couldn't fully understand them.

Affection.

Once it takes root, they say it’s hard to let go, even if you want to.

Suddenly, Seoyeon recalled her past life. Thinking about it, her parents had been the same.

Twisted, relentless, and pained, yet they never let her go.

Obsession.

Parental, romantic. Seoyeon contemplated these types of attachment as she moved her body, her lips, her face.

"You’re too greedy."

While discussing character interpretation, Sim Cheong-seok had said that to her.

"There’s no such thing as a perfect human."

Therefore, everyone’s interpretation of a character is different.

"The role you’ve taken on is ultimately a flawed human being."

A person ruined by their longing for someone else's affection.

"So a flawless display of affection isn’t appropriate."

So when you act, the audience will be deceived. Sim Cheong-seok had said this, and Seoyeon knew it too.

She expressed the intensity of Hong Jeong-hee’s character.

Inferiority, despair, jealousy, obsession, affection.

She listed these complex emotions and assigned them an order.

And the emotion Seoyeon placed first was...

"...If something’s wrong, it must be corrected."

Obsession.

"Think about it, when did Oppa start to change? When did he start going somewhere, doing something?"

Under the dimming lights, Hong Jeong-hee’s monologue began. Her movements were jerky, like a doll with broken joints.

"February 22nd, fan meeting. The 27th, an event in Gwangju. No one made contact during March’s rehearsals."

Her hunched back and long black hair cascaded over her face as her eyes darted through the strands toward the audience.

"April, visited a facility for volunteer work..."

Red eyes.

A blend of all her emotions, those red eyes.

Even though her face wasn’t clearly visible, those eyes stood out more vividly than anything else to the audience.

No one dared to breathe as they felt the eerie obsession of Hong Jeong-hee, who knew Bae Sung-hak’s schedule from top to bottom. The audience was struck by the unnerving nature of her fixation.

Why is she going to such lengths?

Everyone must have thought the same thing.

The answer was simple: her obsession with Bae Sung-hak was driving her.

Slowly, her steps dragged.

Step by step.

As she crossed the stage, Hong Jeong-hee’s feet moved.

"I have to find it."

Tilting her head toward the audience, as if searching for someone.

"I must."

The audience member who made eye contact with Hong Jeong-hee froze, unable to utter a word. Then, as Hong Jeong-hee turned away from the audience, the tension that had been suffocating the air briefly dissipated.

But then, Hong Jeong-hee abruptly spun around and charged toward the audience.

"!!"

The audience flinched in shock, feeling as if Hong Jeong-hee was about to leap at them. It felt like her face was right in front of them.

But Hong Jeong-hee’s feet never left the stage. She stopped right at the edge.

"It’s you."

Balancing precariously on the edge of the stage, Hong Jeong-hee stared at the audience and spoke.

"Yes, it was you."

The lighting grew dimmer and dimmer.

"It was you, Song Min-seo."

As the stage went completely dark, the audience finally exhaled, relieved.

They shuddered at the oppressive presence of Hong Jeong-hee.

She’s utilizing the stage to its fullest.

Director Bae Jin-hwan’s hands itched to take notes. He couldn’t help but smile in delight as he stroked his chin.

This isn’t the end, is it? Joo Seoyeon?

He couldn’t wait to see her next performance.

He wasn’t the only one with such thoughts.

Hong Jeong-hee’s role was that of the villain.

The antagonist.

And yet, this villain was dominating the play.

But it’s not good for the play.

When the protagonist doesn’t stand out, the play’s impression becomes muddled. What will the audience say after seeing this play today?

The villain was amazing, but the play? The play was just okay.

They would likely say that.

That’s not good for the actor or the play.

What should be done?

Will this play end as one dominated by Joo Seoyeon?

Bae Jin-hwan watched as the third act progressed, the story of the main characters Bae Sung-hak and Song Min-seo unfolding.

Meanwhile, Hong Jeong-hee, a character with no lines, would occasionally pass by. Each time, the audience held their breath, anxious about what she might do.

Then came the fourth act.

The moment when Hong Jeong-hee takes center stage, clashing directly with Bae Sung-hak.

Joo Seoyeon and Sim Cheong-seok.

Sim Cheong-seok and Joo Seoyeon’s performances collided head-on.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Bae Sung-hak’s shout split the stage.

His performance, which had been steady with Song Min-seo, now took on a sharp, intense edge.

Those who knew acting recalled how his performance had shifted when facing Hong Jeong-hee earlier.

Is this his true skill? He’s adjusting his tone depending on the actor.

They looked at Sim Cheong-seok with newfound respect. But Sim Cheong-seok didn’t care about that.

Joo Seoyeon.

Beneath his exterior, hidden from the audience, a fierce smile spread across his face.

I’m not going to lose to a rookie who’s only just taken her first steps.

That’s what his smile seemed to say.

Idol Bae Sung-hak.

A role that initially didn’t seem to suit him.

But.

His entire demeanor changed.

From a gentle, kind-hearted idol to...

"Hong Jeong-hee. I always had a feeling. How could you... Someone who’s always supported my performances, how could you?!"

Bae Sung-hak finished the performance and was overcome with a strange sense of unease.

Song Min-seo, whom he had planned to meet after the show, was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, he realized.

Hong Jeong-hee wasn’t present at today’s performance.

The woman who always followed his shows.

A cherished fan, but lately, he had sensed something off about her.

He had felt the intense malice she harbored toward Song Min-seo.

Remembering this, Bae Sung-hak ran to find both Song Min-seo and Hong Jeong-hee.

And he arrived just in time.

"Why... Why would you do this to Min-seo?!" "Min-seo?"

A low chuckle.

A gleam in her eyes as she looked at Bae Sung-hak.

"When did you two become so close, Oppa?"

Her voice was eerily calm.

Emotionless, as if devoid of any feeling, a voice that sent chills down the spine.

The intense emotions Hong Jeong-hee had previously displayed were now completely hidden in this voice.

"I never got that from you."

But it gradually became more agitated.

Grabbing his collar.

Pushing him against the wall.

"You never did that for me!!"

Her voice, almost a scream, quivered as she gripped his collar.

"What am I lacking? I liked you so much, even before anyone else did."

Tears fell, drop by drop.

She was angry. What was she lacking?

No, she knew.

She was never able to comfort Bae Sung-hak.

In the end, Hong Jeong-hee was just a fan.

Song Min-seo, who couldn’t even hear his voice, wasn’t his fan.

She wasn’t dealing with an idol, just an ordinary man.

That was the difference.

But it wasn’t just that.

Hong Jeong-hee gasped for breath, unable to continue speaking.

"You’re not lacking."

Overwhelming her trembling, Bae Sung-hak spoke.

"You’ve always been more than enough as a fan."

So...

"Please, don’t do anything more wrong. I’m begging you, Jeong-hee."

His voice, pleading desperately.

At his words, Hong Jeong-hee stared blankly at him.

For the first time, she was hearing a request from her idol directed at her.

She just stared in shock.

The entire audience watched this scene, entranced.

And among them, a woman sat quietly.

"...This is wrong."

Jo Seohui bit her thumbnail.

"What is she doing right now?"

But her gaze wasn’t on Joo Seoyeon.

It was on the actress playing "Song Min-seo," Lee Hye-jin.

She remembered reading the pamphlet. Jo Seohui had gone over the basic plot and reviews before watching the play. She had even watched videos, expecting the play to be different.

With Joo Seoyeon in it.

So she instantly knew what was wrong.

In this scene, Song Min-seo was supposed to intervene between the two.

But now, Song Min-seo was frozen, unable to step into the intense performance between the two.

Is she going to ruin the play?

Joo Seoyeon, once a bright star, now exuded a darkness that chilled Jo Seohui’s heart.

If I were in her place...

She regretted never having acted in a play.

But Song Min-seo remained frozen.

If this continued, the audience would soon sense something was off.

The actor had made a mistake.

At that moment.

"Song Min-seo!!"

Hong Jeong-hee’s shout reverberated across the stage.

"You think you’ve won, don’t you? Why, why are you looking at me like that?!"

Jo Seohui recognized it instantly.

A line that wasn’t in the play.

An ad-lib.

Song Min-seo was supposed to be deaf.

There was no way she could hear Hong Jeong-hee’s shout.

But the audience didn’t notice it at that moment. Even if they did, it would sound like Hong Jeong-hee’s last desperate cry. But Jo Seohui knew.

This shout wasn’t directed at Song Min-seo, but at the actress Lee Hye-jin.

At the same time, Hong Jeong-hee’s overwhelming presence suddenly diminished.

"Min-seo, are you okay?"

And in sync, Bae Sung-hak turned his gaze to Song Min-seo.

He added sign language, reminding the audience that she was deaf.

With a smooth flow, Song Min-seo’s dwindling presence was instantly revived.

The audience’s focus was forcibly shifted back to Song Min-seo.

"I-I’m fine."

Lee Hye-jin, as Song Min-seo, barely managed to speak her line.

Her voice trembled slightly, her tone momentarily shaky, but given the circumstances, it felt like part of the act.

She had skillfully covered up her earlier mistake by channeling it into Song Min-seo’s flustered emotions.

Lee Hye-jin was an actress, after all.

She knew what had happened and that she needed to make up for it.

Taking a deep breath.

"Jeong-hee."

There were many lines to follow.

But Lee Hye-jin realized something.

She shouldn’t prolong the dialogue here.

"I’m sorry."

Carefully, Song Min-seo embraced the crying Hong Jeong-hee.

Gently holding her.

"Really, I’m sorry."

She conveyed forgiveness to Hong Jeong-hee, who had hurled insults and violence at her, by quietly embracing her.

"Sniff."

The tears that had been falling now streamed down her face.

With Hong Jeong-hee’s sorrowful cry, the fourth act came to an end.

And that marked...

The final appearance of Hong Jeong-hee in the play.

"Wow, so this is what plays are like? It was my first time, and it was intense." "The lines were a bit different from when I saw it before. But it was still good." "Really? But the male actor was so handsome. Is he a real idol?"

With the conclusion of the sixth and final act, Eyes Closed came to an end.

As the audience filed out, chatting among themselves, the most talked-about topic was...

"The girl who played Hong Jeong-hee, she’s the same one who played Princess Yeonhwa, right?" "She didn’t feel like that at all. Honestly, I was so scared I almost left in the middle." "Yeah, but she seemed a bit pitiful at the end."

Joo Seoyeon’s portrayal of Hong Jeong-hee was so impactful that it dominated the conversation. Her performance, which had frozen the audience in place, remained vividly imprinted in their minds even after they closed their eyes.

"Phew."

Director Bae Jin-hwan and Producer Cha Dong-jin were no exception.

The two of them let out a breath as they sat in the lingering afterglow of the play.

"...What did you think?"

Producer Cha Dong-jin spoke first, his voice tinged with a strange sense of anticipation. Bae Jin-hwan understood and shared that expectation.

"I’ve been humbled." "Humbled?"

Bae Jin-hwan nodded.

"Yes, a comeback after ten years. I thought the image of Princess Yeonhwa was too strong and that it might be risky."

He recalled Seoyeon as she walked the stage, looking out at the audience. Originally, Hong Jeong-hee wasn’t such a strong character.

She was the main antagonist, but more of an "unpleasant" character than a powerful one.

"But this was good. It was a fresh interpretation." "And the final lines of the fourth act were different too, right?" "Yes."

The two nodded slowly in agreement.

"You’re thinking the same thing as me?" "Of course."

Seventeen years old, so young.

At first, that had been a concern, but now it didn’t matter.

"Let’s do it."

This was the moment they decided to cast her as the villain in their upcoming movie, The Chaser.

But there was one issue they hadn’t anticipated.

"...What? Joo Seoyeon doesn’t have an agency?" "?"

As they tried to contact her and send her the script, they encountered an unforeseen problem.

They had no way to reach her.

The despair of this realization left Bae Jin-hwan and Cha Dong-jin at a loss.

Meanwhile, the person in question, Joo Seoyeon...

"..."

At the after-party following the play, two people had arrived, tailing her.

"...Sigh." "Hmph."

Park Jung-woo and Jo Seohui.

Caught between them, Seoyeon glanced around nervously.