I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

Manager Hong watched the stage with an easy, relaxed expression.

‘She’s even better than I expected.’

Han Yeoreum’s voice truly was good. Even thrown among stage actors with razor-sharp diction, she held her own without the slightest wobble.

“How can this be! You’re telling me you’ve never attended a proper academy?!”

“Huh? A proper academy...? When I was preparing for college I went to Korean, English, Math, and even essay prep academies. Before that I did piano and taekwondo. And after entering university, I took a bit of Pilates as a hobby....”

“Those are exactly the improper academies!”

The assistant, who had been handling Han Yeoreum’s consultation, finally exploded in frustration. Overcome with rage, she dramatically collapsed, and Geum Bitgang stepped forward, leaving her sprawled on the floor.

“Of! Course!”

Once again, a voice powerful enough to shake the entire theater rang out.

“Things every human must learn! How to make friends, how to refuse a friend’s request, the natural stages of cutting someone off — Step 1, 2, 3! On your own! Properly! Neatly! Cleanly! With sense! And we add one more thing here!”

“...Huh?”

“Of!”

“Confidently?”

“That’s wrong!”

The assistant, who had been lying on the ground, sprang upright and pointed accusingly at Jin Jinju for answering incorrectly. Geum Bitgang shook her head as if there was still a long way to go.

“Of! Course!”

Geum Bitgang planted both hands firmly on her hips.

“From reading your superior’s mood, to replacing copier cartridges, to how many minutes early you must arrive before work hours, to margins on reports! Fonts! And this, this!”

She used the baton at her waist to poke Han Yeoreum’s shoulder and press her lower back, forcing her into a ramrod-straight posture.

“Even a posture pleasing to the eye!”

“...You teach things like that?”

“But you can’t enter the Intern Academy!”

“Why not?”

At that moment, Jinju’s Friend 1 and Friend 2 entered the stage. They carried textbooks against their chests as if they were already enrolled.

“Huh? Guys! You go here?”

Jin Jinju tried to run toward them happily.

But Geum Bitgang grabbed her by the back of the collar.

“That’s not it!”

Her voice cracked like a whip.

“If you run into someone you’re not that close to in an unexpected place, you say this!”

She jerked her chin toward the assistant.

The assistant leapt up, lifted her sunglasses, widened her eyes, and said brightly,

“Huh? Why are you here!”

Geum Bitgang nodded in approval. Friend 1 and Friend 2 nodded as well.

“...That’s ridiculous.”

“Do not ask first! Wait until the other person speaks! And do not approach abruptly when you aren’t close!”

“Not close? We’ve been together all through college! We’re in the same department!”

At Jinju’s protest, her classmates once again scurried to opposite ends of the stage.

“Oh? Mom? Then I better go—.”

“Oh? Dad? Then I better go—.”

This time they didn’t even bother with fake ringtone sounds. They simply disappeared.

“Not close? I lacked awareness? That’s not right. We traveled together, ate together for three years, even matched our schedules....”

Jin Jinju stood flustered. No matter how she replayed it in her head, they weren’t distant.

The assistant and Geum Bitgang flanked her from both sides.

“This is why you must start with the basics.”

“You’re not even qualified for Intern Academy. You start with Intern Academy of the Academy of the Academy!”

“There’s no such thing!”

Placed between the rigid, disciplined characters, Jin Jinju’s lightness stood out even more. She tried desperately to evade them on stage, but there was no escape.

The assistant and Geum Bitgang picked apart every action, every word, dissecting why Jin Jinju was a human incapable of fulfilling one person’s share.

‘Painfully relatable.’

From those just stepping into society to those long embedded in it, the audience could project themselves onto Jin Jinju.

Early twenties — full of anxiety. Not lazy, not stupid, not lacking perseverance like older generations claimed — but simply uncertain where to begin. Youth forced to step into realms that couldn’t be mastered by following what adults said or what academies taught.

Geum Bitgang and the assistant hurled at Jin Jinju the exact words society threw at young people.

Because you’re lazy. Because you lack grit. Because you’re incompetent. Because you’re insufficient. It’s all your fault.

“Then if I go to the academy....”

Gradually conditioned, Jin Jinju seemed to fall into a trance.

“I’ll become an intern, get hired, save a hundred million before thirty, and then I’ll naturally, neatly, cleanly, sensibly fulfill my one person’s share?”

“Order. Order.”

“...Naturally, neatly, sensibly, cleanly, properly fulfill my one person’s share?”

She kept scrambling the taught phrases.

The assistant placed her hands on her hips just like Geum Bitgang.

And thus, Jin Jinju’s official Intern Academy life began.

* * *

‘She’s good.’

Sunwoo Seonuk felt as if the exact image in his mind had been transferred directly onto the stage.

His prediction was right. Han Yeoreum shone brighter in front of a live audience.

More than on screen. More than on television. Seeing her act in person was far superior.

‘The supporting actors have done plenty of theater themselves....’

But Han Yeoreum gave them no mercy. As if demanding they rise to her standard.

As a result, the other actors felt like devices orbiting her. Only Geum Bitgang, in her red marine-style cap, could match her weight.

‘At this rate... probably before long....’

Now wearing yellow chick-printed caps turned backward, Geum Bitgang and the assistant taught basics as if instructing kindergarteners.

“What do you say to a friend?”

“Have a conversation!”

“No, that’s not it!”

At Intern Academy, basic communication was entirely blocked.

If you don’t understand something, don’t talk.

If a misunderstanding occurs, don’t talk.

Avoid influencing each other as much as possible.

Distance was natural. One must do their work both publicly and privately without being ‘a bother.’

‘She can do it. Lead role.’

Sunwoo Seonuk gauged Yeoreum’s future growth.

Jin Jinju’s once-bubbly foolish charm was gradually changing.

“Noona, do you love me?”

“....”

“....”

“I do. Yeah.”

Even conversations with her boyfriend followed academy-taught structure now.

Jin Jinju didn’t just attend Intern Academy of the Academy of the Academy.

She attended Dating Academy of the Academy of the Academy.

She attended Twenty-Three Academy of the Academy of the Academy.

After this year ended, she would attend Twenty-Four Academy of the Academy of the Academy.

Because fulfilling one person’s share in every aspect of life was this difficult.

“Let’s break up.”

“Suddenly? You just said you loved me.”

“You don’t date a man who asks if you love him more than three times. Because if you waste emotions like this, you’ll have less time to plan for the future, then conversion to full-time employee becomes difficult, then I won’t save a hundred million, so anyway let’s break up.”

“Noona! Noona!”

Jin Jinju lived exactly as the academy taught.

She covered her face with one hand and muttered gravely,

“I should add a special lecture on Breakup Academy....”

From that point on, Jin Jinju’s life became nothing but registering for academies.

Each time, Assistant Kim and Geum Bitgang appeared. The more they taught harshly about fulfilling one person’s share, the more Jin Jinju became someone incapable of doing anything alone.

“What do you do in this situation?”

“Instead of directly refusing, induce the other party to say ‘Well... I guess it can’t be helped....’”

She answered in a stiff, mechanical voice, body jerking in rigid motions.

How to read the room.

How to evade.

What one must naturally know without being told.

The knowledge etched into her brain like stored memory.

Her lively presence vanished.

Jin Jinju now resembled the assistant herself.

Watching her, Geum Bitgang smiled in satisfaction and placed the whistle hanging from her neck into her mouth.

“Good! Go! Properly fulfill your one person’s share in society!”

Fweeeee—!

The whistle pierced the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» air.

Lights out.

The set shifted.

Now it was an interview room.

Nervous applicants flanked Jinju on both sides.

—Why did you apply to our company?

The voice was identical to the mechanical tone from the opening rejection message. It echoed from afar like an announcement.

“I built foundational knowledge in planning and operations through major coursework and practical training....”

“As I take my first step into society, I intend to learn with responsibility, one step at a time....”

Brave, but slightly awkward answers came from the others.

And finally—

It was Jin Jinju’s turn.