I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

A three-story white building in Cheongdam. Its simple, clean name was engraved on the front.

[ GOGYEOL ]

There was no additional explanation.

It was an unfriendly place—but it had every right to be.

This was a makeup shop frequented only by celebrities whose names every person in Korea would recognize.

“Hello, this is Gogyeol. Do you have a reservation?”

“No. But if you tell the director that Min is here, it’s fine.”

“Ah... excuse me, may I ask your relationship?”

“Family.”

With that, the two of them were let in immediately.

As they climbed upstairs, Yeoreum’s eyes widened.

‘Wow... it’s a garden of celebrities...’

Just seeing the customers’ backs, their aura was different. Famous actors were everywhere.

‘Isn’t that Eun Baekhap?’

All the way to the room prepared inside, Yeoreum’s eyes darted nonstop.

‘I wasn’t even hoping for something like this.’

She grew a little nervous at a result far beyond her imagination.

“Unni, are you really family with the owner here?”

“The name gives it away.”

“...The owner’s name is ‘Gogyeol’. Isn’t that a single-syllable name?”

“Hey. ‘Dok Gogyeol’ is also a single-syllable name. She should be here any minute.”

Tap—tap—tap—!

Just as Dok Gomin said, confident footsteps approached from afar.

The owner of this place, Dok Gogyeol, arrived.

“Hi, everyone~? Min, you seriously need to learn to call first. Lucky for you my schedule is loose today. What would you have done if it wasn’t?”

“Long time no see, unni. I just came because I had a good feeling.”

“And who’s this next to you? Min’s friend? Nice to meet you. I’m Dok Gogyeol, director of Salon Gogyeol.”

Yeoreum shot up from her seat to bow.

“Hello. I’m Han Yeoreum, first-year in Acting at Daehan Arts General University. I’m on good sunbae–hoobae terms with Dok Gomin sunbae.”

At Yeoreum’s introduction, Dok Gogyeol raised an eyebrow.

Then, with eyes very similar to Dok Gomin's, she scanned Yeoreum thoroughly.

“Acting major... I can guess why you came... Ah! You did that photoshoot with Min last time? The blue lighting one?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“That was pretty. Good. I liked it. Okay, sweetheart, turn around?”

Dok Gogyeol raised her index finger and spun it in a circle.

Yeoreum obediently twirled in place.

“She’s nice, right? She’s doing a web drama—give her a discount. Free would be even better.”

“Absolutely NOT!!! We have no free customers here! Even if Eun Baekhap comes, NO!”

The money-fiend Dok Gogyeol's eyes sharpened instantly.

“Min-ah. In this world? Everything has its price. Cheap and good? Never, ever!!! Doesn’t exist. The price equals the value, always.”

Behind Dok Gogyeol, Yeoreum could almost see a fiery vision of King Sejong blazing.

“Money. That is the real standard of the world.”

Yeoreum hid behind Dok Gomin.

A fake money-fiend like Han Yeoreum could only shrink before the real thing...

“But tell me—what do you think the value is of the best weapon in the entertainment battlefield? Hair and makeup. Especially at Cheongdam’s top salon, Gogyeol???”

“Unni. I didn’t delete a single one of her photos.”

At Dok Gomin's words, the predatory gleam in Dok Gogyeol's eyes changed dramatically.

“...What?”

“I think I’ll be looking at her photos a lot from now on.”

The reason Dok Gogyeol became director of a Cheongdam salon at a young age—

It was entirely thanks to her cousin, Dok Gomin.

“She’s going to blow up, I think.”

Since childhood, Dok Gomin's eye for potential stars had been perfect.

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

Gyeol didn’t create top stars.

“I just like her.”

She simply chose, with ruthless precision, only the people she believed would become big—and turned them into VIPs.

“Not this person. This one. She stands out way more.”

With Dok Gomin's picks, Gogyeol signed bold exclusive contracts with rookies.

The result: a 100% success rate.

“So your name is Han Yeoreum, right? This web drama... how many episodes is it?”

If even Dok Gomin's wanted to keep looking at her—

“It’s eight episodes.”

—then she had top-tier star potential.

“In that case... I’ll decide after watching episode 1. For now, I’ll let you pay later. Deferred payment only. Discounts will be discussed after. Deal?”

Dok Gogyeol handed Yeoreum her calendar.

“Sweetheart, you’re confident you’ll make it big, right?”

Yeoreum checked the schedule and smiled brightly.

“Of course.”

* * *

Click. Click. Click.

This was JC ENM’s PR team.

They handled monitoring, writing and distributing press releases, creating SNS content, preparing press conferences, managing reporters—everything involved in building the illusion.

“Haaaaah...”

And there was a lot of work.

Enough work to come in on weekends.

“Hey, new kid. Stop sighing. If you sigh like that, what do you expect your /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ manager to feel? I’ll want to cry too.”

Of course, in the entertainment industry, “weekends” barely existed.

But today’s task was especially annoying.

“Still. Isn’t this too much? It’s seriously ridiculous. There’s nothing we can use for a press release.”

“Haha, well, that’s true.”

“Except for Joo Junseo, the other two are total rookies. There’s barely any usable photos. And Han Yeoreum—her profile picture is insane but... well... at least! At least it’s better than nothing.”

“Haha... yeah, that’s true.”

Drama and film promotions normally had plenty of “bait” to scatter before articles dropped.

[Finally hits 10 million! 〈Crossfire〉 scene-stealer Myeong Jeha behind-the-scenes compilation]

[SBC x Seo Munihwa’s crazy combo incoming! Do Gyeoul considered for female lead...]

Official poster shoots, character sheets, ratings promises, and more.

“No matter how newly launched the team is, isn’t the promo budget way too stingy?”

But a web drama was still just... a web drama.

The poster had to be snatched from the filming site and slapped with a title afterward.

“And how are we supposed to make a press release from just a script reading video?”

Character sheets had to be created in the same slapped-together way.

The only promotional material 〈ParCheHi〉 had was its script reading making video.

“Well, they said the rough cut is up. Let’s watch that and write from there.”

“I don’t get why you’re putting so much effort into this anyway, Chief Hong. You could write this in 5 or 10 minutes. Just throw in screenshots from the reading.”

“This little punk... so sensitive on his own terms, but his brain doesn’t turn on.”

“Eh? Me?”

It wasn’t surprising that JC ENM created a web-content division.

This was the era when Intube (InTube) was growing terrifyingly powerful.

“You really didn’t know? Our company’s 〈Project 111〉.”

Project 111.

The national audition program JC ENM invested in—recently a massive success.

“Of course I know that. Why?”

“Haha. That was just dipping our toes. They were considering making an agency and tried it out with trainees from other companies. You know, right.”

“Sure. Trainees cost a fortune.”

Out of a thousand trainees, ten debut. And among them, only one becomes a star.

“If a trainee quits, the company eats all the sunk costs. And even if they debut, tons of kids stay in the red forever.”

“Right. Even releasing one album burns through several hundred million won.”

“Exactly. So instead, we get trendy image! We scout rookies! We get PPL! We rack up views!”

Chief Hong laughed and pointed at the monitor.

“If we find a good rookie, we’ll raise them. Isn’t that perfect? Haha.”

The new hire looked even more confused.

“Eh... then why is the production so sloppy?”

“Higher-ups, you know—Jegal Rok. The one who also launched our MCN division.”

“Yes. The guy who said influencers will become celebrities and celebrities will want to become influencers... that crazy concept guy.”

The new hire snorted.

“According to Jegal Rok, a real star will shine even in fog.”

“Eh, what does that even mean.”

“We cast them in web dramas, push only the promising sprouts, and ditch the others. If they’re mediocre, we sign them to MCN and monetize them as influencers.”

The new hire’s jaw dropped.

It was a spiderweb structure extracting maximum profit for minimal cost.

“Raise them as influencers first, then maybe debut them in variety shows depending on market timing. Then PPL, branded deals, Intube views—they all rise.”

“...So they get recognition in the web drama, grow a solid subscriber base, then variety shows will be easy. And eventually, stronger applicants will flock in on their own.”

“Exactly. Now you get it, newbie.”

Chief Hong opened a cloud folder.

[Parfait Cherry Belongs to the Heroine Making_Video_RoughCut_1_MOV] 03:30

A short script reading clip, edited only with simple cuts, had been uploaded.

“Watch it. Your ears are especially sharp.”

Click.

When the new hire clicked the mouse, the rough cut began to play.

“Since earlier.”

“So you were just watching?”

“It’s not my business.”

“...True.”

Lines from Joo Junseo and Han Yeoreum.

A short excerpt chosen to highlight their character traits—barely ten seconds long.

“Eh....”

The new hire tilted his head.

It sounded like one person was using a different microphone entirely.

“Now you see why I’m trying to make something out of crumbs.”

At that, the new hire’s scrunched brow relaxed.

“She... she’s actually good at acting?”

“Newbie. Why are you only slow in situations like this?”

Chief Hong raised an eyebrow.

“Good?”

Then he shook his phone, which had just received a message.

“She’s apparently devouring the entire set right now.”