I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

“Yes! Hold that angle—just like that!”

Under the dazzling lights, countless eyes were focused on Do Gyeoul, who was holding up a soju glass.

This was a studio in Seolleung. Do Gyeoul—who had landed the coveted soju model position that only the hottest stars could claim—was in the middle of shooting a commercial.

“She really is on a different level....”

“Her face is practically the size of the soju glass.”

Even veterans who had seen just about every celebrity couldn’t help but admire Do Gyeoul in person.

Smiling with a clear soju glass in one hand, Do Gyeoul became the new face of First Dew.

“They should give the casting director an award.”

“Probably getting an incentive bonus, right?”

Recently, Do Gyeoul had rewritten the meaning of Hallyu in Japan.

[Japanese critic explains the box-office success of ? ‘A sense of empathy formed through scenery reminiscent of Sapporo...’]

[The archipelago has fallen in love! Do Gyeoul shows the true power of Hallyu dramas—will she rise to the rank of ‘national actress’?]

[ ratings soar in Japan... ‘The birth of a new Hallyu queen’]

With just a few seconds of Do Gyeoul drinking soju, First Dew’s sales jumped severalfold. It even sparked an SNS challenge in Japan.

Right now, every industry had its eyes on Do Gyeoul.

“How many brands is Do Gyeoul modeling for right now?”

“How would you even count? You step outside and it’s all Do Gyeoul.”

On the monitor, Gyeoul looked flawless. Perfect—by anyone’s standards.

“Alright! Let’s take a short break, then resume shooting!”

The cinematographer shouted loudly. «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» Do Gyeoul bowed her head in greeting and headed to the waiting room.

Sipping coffee, the cinematographer reviewed the footage.

“Director, what do you think? Looks good to me.”

“Yeah. At this point, picking the A-cut is the hard part... she’s so natural in front of the camera.”

He shrugged and scrolled down.

“By the way, you know First Dew has a rival company, right? I heard Just Like Now is releasing a new product.”

“Oh yeah. I heard that too. Something sweet, right?”

“They poured an insane amount of R&D money into it to beat First Dew. Wonder who they’ll get as the model....”

The cinematographer thought for a moment. Come to think of it, when he’d had drinks with a Just Like Now rep recently, he’d glanced over a few proposals.

“That... what was it. There’s that girl they call ‘melon soda’....”

Among the proposals, there’d been a rookie he’d singled out as a perfect fit. But he’d been too drunk to remember clearly. Only the product name on the proposal stood out vividly.

White-wine base with added citrus and yogurt aroma. Smooth and sweet flavor, expected to have high appeal among women in their 20s and 30s.

A product set to lead a new culture of ‘drinking alone,’ rather than rowdy group drinking.

“That... she was cute... um... really cute.”

“Director, maybe ease up on the coffee. Your memory’s getting bad.”

“You’ll know when you see her face. Anyway, let’s hurry and shoot! The deadline’s right around the corner.”

And so, Do Gyeoul’s new commercial—which had left everyone on set in awe—spread nationwide.

On TV, at bus stops, in the subway, on SNS, even on the news—Do Gyeoul’s ad was everywhere.

—Korea’s traditional liquor, soju, is gaining immense popularity among Japanese youth. The so-called ‘challenge,’ reenacting a scene from the hit drama ....

* * *

“Junseo! What are you watching?”

“Ah—sorry.”

Joo Junseo bowed his head toward the director sitting across from him. He’d glanced at the news screen for a moment. The script reading had ended, and the after-party was in full swing.

“But your profile is no joke either, huh? Figures—a model is a model.”

As the director lifted a soju bottle, Junseo politely raised his glass, then took the bottle and poured a drink. Behind the director, posters with Do Gyeoul’s face lined the wall.

“You tired today? It’s because you’re the only visual on our team. Try to understand the reporters’ flash attacks.”

“Director! You can’t say things like that!”

“They’re all middle-aged men anyway. All of them.”

“Director, seriously—!”

This gathering of pleasantly tipsy actors and staff was the team dinner for SBC’s highly anticipated series, .

After successfully finishing the script reading, they’d gathered to build rapport.

“Why is Junseo the only visual? What about me?”

“Our Juye, need I even say it? My mouth would just hurt.”

Junseo turned his head and downed the drink the director poured. He couldn’t get used to this kind of atmosphere at all.

“Both of you were cast perfectly. Just put you together and the chemistry pops!”

The director, clearly buoyed by the positive response at the earlier script reading, was in high spirits. Junseo bowed politely in thanks.

Gi Juye looked at Junseo as if it were only natural, lifting the corner of her mouth.

“It’s lucky you’re playing Manager Choi, Junseo. As a model, just imagining you in a suit is already nice. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Ah... yes.”

“By the way, I heard you’re already tormenting the stylists? Talking about alterations and whatnot?”

“That’s exaggerated! Anyway, you should really look forward to my styling this time. I’ve already told friendly reporters—once the first episode airs, articles will be everywhere.”

Juye and the director excitedly talked about how well was going to do. Junseo listened quietly.

‘Ah... I see.’

Gi Juye was eagerly advertising how good her hand was.

Her recognition as an idol, her visuals, the connections she could pull.

If you added up the acting careers of everyone here, it easily surpassed several decades—so it made sense.

To appeal through acting alone, you’d have to put in an insane amount of effort to prove yourself in front of people like this.

‘That kind of type.’

And that was exactly the personality Junseo hated the most. Having worked in the modeling world, he’d seen this type more times than he could count.

‘No matter the profession, there are tons of people like this. Fucking tons.’

People who happened to have slightly better physiques than others, yet made no effort in the one thing that mattered most, and only wanted to flaunt the title of “model.”

‘What a waste of time.’

He found himself comparing this to the team dinner.

That hadn’t been about who invested how much, what the reporters were saying, or which brand was offering sponsorship.

It had been about dissecting the work and the characters.

Thinking of the passionate director and Han Yeoreum, Junseo smiled quietly.

He’d just learned the perfect excuse to step away.

“Anyone want ice cream?”

* * *

Gi Juye bit into the ice cream Junseo had bought and went outside. Junseo was standing under the streetlight beside the shop.

“Junseo!”

Hearing her voice, Junseo slowly removed the cigarette from his mouth.

“You’re not eating the ice cream? You bought it yourself.”

“No. Not into sweets.”

As Junseo stubbed out the cigarette in a pocket ashtray, the shadows made his face even more striking.

Juye smiled up at the much taller Junseo.

“Junseo, I heard Director Ryu’s handling you this time.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be blunt. How about we match our styling this time? We have the most scenes together. It’s good, right? Easy on the eyes.”

Juye recalled Han Yeoreum, who had dared to treat her with insolence not long ago.

‘As if she’s anything without her agency....’

A six-year idol versus an eight-month web-drama actress. The gap in public recognition between Gi Juye and Han Yeoreum was overwhelming.

‘Just because some Intube video did well.’

She wanted to crush that rookie who couldn’t tell when to push and when to back off.

‘What even is ASMR. Fuck... my fancams get similar views too!’

One web drama. One filler one-episode drama. And one ASMR Intube video.

‘That’s all she has for a “career.”’

Judging by how she went around scratching at people just to “take care of her staff,” it was obvious she wasn’t very smart.

‘If she can’t even think that far ahead,’

it was only a matter of years before she disappeared.

‘An entertainer’s greatest reward is success. If she doesn’t even get that basic truth, her future’s obvious.’

No matter how nicely a third-rate celebrity treats staff, on set, it’s the staff of a first-rate celebrity who reign supreme.

Celebrities and staff are a team.

‘One competent boss is way better than a workplace with a hundred useless ones.’

Anyway, Juye’s screen time wasn’t that big. And the actors here all had representative works—names anyone would recognize.

So she had to win with her own cards.

‘And Han Yeoreum cross-dresses early on.’

Cross-dressing in hanbok. Both were the worst possible cards—styling-wise.

Juye covered her mouth with one hand and laughed.

“I really liked your look at the Ruel mint carpet last time, Junseo. I was thinking—what if we go with that concept overall? You know, that subtly similar-look vibe. Like, when I wear a C-brand dress, you wear a matching high-end tie.”

“...”

Junseo, looking down at her, gave no clear response.

‘A top idol—and a senior at that—reaching out first. Of course he’s surprised.’

The red hair from that trashy web drama was fine, but covering it in black was the real cheat code.

Perfect as Gi Juye’s accessory.

“What, does it make you uncomfortable? You’re so quiet~.”

Jokingly, Juye clenched her fist and went to tap Junseo. But without any change in expression, Junseo caught her wrist and flicked it down.

Then he replied flatly.

“Yes. That’d be a no.”

Junseo brushed past Gi Juye and went back inside.

For a moment, Gi Juye stood there, unable to process what had just happened.

“Did that just... fuck....”

The ice cream in her hand melted, dripping stickily onto the ground.

“I compliment him and this is how he acts... such a rude bastard....”

Her eyes darkened as she stared in the direction Junseo had disappeared.

Turning his back on Gi Juye, Junseo lifted his phone and called someone.

“Yes, noona. It’s Junseo.”

—Yeah. What is it? I’m busy at a photoshoot, so get straight to the point.

“I’ve changed my mind. Make it as flashy as possible. Push it to the limit.”

—What?! Are you sure? I’m fine with it, but like you said, the other side will get completely wiped out! You’ll be the only one anyone sees!

Junseo smiled, as if he’d spoken unnecessarily.

“Yes. That’s the plan.”