I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

“Done...! It’s done...!”

This was the KBC Drama Center. Even though every employee was working overtime, not a single one looked tired or displeased.

“We did iiiit!”

It was a success no one had expected. The greatest victory since the Chinese cultural ban had hit.

The director of the KBC center pounded his chest with his fist as his heart swelled.

“This... this is...!”

Words couldn’t describe it. All the struggles they had endured flashed before his eyes like scenes in a lantern show.

“Sokhwan! Let’s extend it by just two episodes. Huh? Not more, not less—just two!”

“I told you we’re not extending it. Junmyeong and I already planned everything perfectly. If we add more, the pacing will drag.”

“Come on. You know the reaction right now!”

“I turned my phone off, so I don’t.”

With the insane popularity, everyone wanted an extension. Because the stubborn director had turned off his phone and told the production staff to handle things themselves, the center director had actually flown to Jeju Island to beg him in person.

But the answer he got was this.

“Please! You bastard, the higher-ups wanted four more episodes! I begged them and cut it down to two! Two!”

“Yeah? Then talk to the CG team.”

“Really? You mean it? Sokhwan. Hey, I knew it! I really trusted you!”

“I’m planning to send everyone to heaven in the final episode. We’ll CG three of them in white clothes, gazing wistfully at Joseon land from the sky. That’ll be the ending.”

“You son of a—! Hey! Sokhwan! Aaagh! Somebody grab that lunatic! I knew that crazy bastard would do this!”

The center director nearly fainted when Ja Sokhwan insisted on giving it a literal “everyone goes to heaven” ending.

When they told him not to kill everyone, he casually suggested ending it by revealing everything had just been the delusion of poor Taeseok.

The director’s mind went blank. He briefly smashed his head against the floor and blacked out.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on a bed.

“Whew... it was a dream... thank god....”

“Are you awake, sir? You have a mild concussion.”

“...”

To discover that the ending had really been a dream felt unbelievably miserable. The center director staggered to his feet.

Even though the medical staff tried to stop him and told him to rest, he rushed off to see the executives. He couldn’t let Ja Sokhwan actually go through with an ending like that.

He grabbed the KBC president by the collar and shouted that something had to be done.

His reason only returned while writing his apology report.

“Well... whatever. The ending turned out well, so that’s enough....”

Thanks to that insane director, the station abandoned the idea of extending the episode count and instead threw everything into selling broadcasting rights as quickly as possible.

The effects of the Chinese ban hadn’t faded yet. They needed to show that external investment was still circulating smoothly in the domestic market.

Ji Haebeom, currently the top Hallyu actor across Asia.

Eun Baekhap, whose popularity in Hong Kong was at its peak.

Myeong Jeha, who had recently finished a massive fan meeting in Singapore.

And finally, Han Yeoreum, whose face had become widely known in Taiwan.

With the four of them appearing in a single production—and with the show already being called a “national drama” before it even finished airing in Korea—the process moved forward at an unbelievable speed.

〈The Great Garland〉 sold broadcasting rights to Hong Kong, Singapore, and Taiwan before the finale even aired.

It was unprecedented.

“Crazy.”

The center director muttered quietly. Just thinking about it made his heart race.

“It’s insane....”

Taiwan in particular was experiencing a brand-new Hallyu boom. Following 〈Strange Tales〉 and 〈Faster Than the Law〉, audiences had started binge-watching Korean productions.

“Soon Taiwan’s going to become Han Yeoreum’s world.”

〈Faster Than the Law 2〉 would premiere in Taiwan this summer.

And 〈The Great Garland〉 would air around the same time.

He couldn’t just sit here anymore. The KBC center director grabbed his jacket.

“You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah. I should go.”

The corporate card sleeping inside his wallet gleamed especially brightly.

* * *

A barbecue restaurant near the KBC Drama Center. Everyone clapped with excited faces.

“Alright everyone! It’s been hell! Aaagh! It’s finally over! We can finally! Sleep at home!”

The camera director shouted while laughing, a spoon stuck in a bottle of soda.

“Before we finish! Let’s each say a word to celebrate the wrap party! First up—our psychopath! Our madman! The leader of WiReund!”

Laughter erupted everywhere. The staff who had just watched the final episode of 〈WiReund〉 on the TV cheered loudly.

Director Ja accepted the soda bottle and shrugged.

“Well. Everyone... you all suffered a lot because of me.”

The staff who remembered how brutal the reactions had been after episode one booed loudly. But despite the teasing, the festive mood only intensified.

“To the actors and the staff alike. Thank you all for making such a great production together.”

Director Ja pointed at the KBC center director, who had just entered the restaurant.

“We almost lost to the forces of evil halfway through... but this proves once again that absolute truth never changes.”

Suddenly labeled the leader of the forces of evil, the KBC center director looked wronged. Director Ja ignored him and raised his fist.

“Before we drink! Repeat after me! When I say ‘The director is’! You all say ‘God!’!”

He still hadn’t forgiven them for forcing him to hold auditions for the Yeon Huijae role just to please the investors.

Having proven that his choice had been correct, Director Ja looked at Han Yeoreum with a manic smile.

And shouted.

“The director is!”

“God!”

The restaurant echoed with the chant. Director Ja cackled as he deliberately looked at the KBC center director.

Next was Writer Ahn.

“At first, I started this thinking maybe we’d pass twenty percent ratings. But honestly... I never expected it to succeed like this. I still can’t believe it. You know how it is. A story about two men devoting their lives to one woman... I wondered if audiences would really accept that.”

It was the dilemma of the love triangle.

One woman between two men. The perfect setup for someone to become the target of hate.

One of the three would inevitably be destroyed.

“But now that I think about it, it was pointless worrying.”

Writer Ahn smiled.

Huijae was truly the kind of woman someone could devote their entire life to.

Because they had made her that way.

Wrapping an arm around Han Yeoreum’s shoulders, Writer Ahn finished her speech.

“Thank you all for giving it such a beautiful ending. I wasn’t even on set most of the time, but... if there were any hardships, let’s drink tonight and forget them all!”

Applause followed.

Next was Myeong Jeha.

“Yes. Honestly, compared to my seniors I didn’t really suffer much, so I’m grateful just to be included here.”

Someone shouted at his humble words.

“Then suffer tonight!”

“Should I? Alright, then I’ll really go all the way tonight.”

“Waaah! Myeong Jeha! Myeong Jeha! Myeong Jeha!”

“Clone Myeong Jeha!”

The relaxed atmosphere unique to a successful production.

Everyone laughed brightly. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Then the bottle was passed to me.

The gazes of the people who had created this success turned toward me, filled with joy.

Even though they were still exhausted from winter outdoor shoots, their pride in what they had accomplished couldn’t be hidden.

“Yes, like Jeha... I’m grateful just to have been invited here.”

“Boo—too humble—!”

“She’s acting even here—!”

Even though we hadn’t met many times, the emotional distance between us felt small.

Perhaps because the character Yeon Huijae lived inside their hearts.

“Thank you for everything in such a short time! I hope we’ll keep seeing each other often on set in the future!”

“See you for the rest of the party!”

“Yes! I’ll stay until the end with Jeha!”

The applause grew louder.

Next was Eun Baekhap.

True to her reputation as someone who rarely spoke, she took a small breath before speaking.

“While living as Yeon Huijae...”

Her soft, delicate voice cut clearly through the air.

“Thank you... very much.”

It was short and simple.

But it was more than enough to move the staff.

Shin Seojin, the secondary male lead everyone couldn’t help but love, raised his bottle next.

“Yes. I’m Shin Seojin, who stayed faithful until the end.”

The staff burst into laughter, banging the tables.

It was a greeting only Shin Seojin could pull off.

“To those who came up to me and said ‘I was always on your side’... yes, I won’t forget any of you. Thank you for supporting Taejin.”

After his bittersweet farewell, it was finally the last turn.

Ji Haebeom.

“Right... everyone had a tough time between the forces of evil and the psychopath.”

The KBC center director, once again labeled the villain, jumped up shouting “You bastard!” but was quickly forced back into his seat by the people around him.

Ji Haebeom raised a finger to his lips.

The flushed center director shut his mouth.

“You were all so busy filming you barely checked your phones, right?”

Everyone nodded frantically.

“And because of that you’ve got tons of unread messages?”

Boos toward Director Ja and the center director grew louder.

Ji Haebeom pointed behind him calmly.

“Those unread messages.”

Behind him were piles of shopping bags.

“Reply to them with new phones. That’s it.”

The moment he finished speaking, everyone rushed toward the bags like animals fighting over prey.

Inside were the newest aXPhones.

A farewell gift worthy of a top star.

Screams of joy erupted among the staff.

“Alright! Since the leader of the forces of evil has arrived, let’s hear from him too! Everyone! Stop looking at the phones! Hey! Leave one for me!”

The camera director dragged the seated center director forward, laughing.

Perhaps because he had once tried to force a two-episode extension, he had somehow become the villain.

‘You bastards... you have no idea how much I suffered....’

Swallowing his tears, the center director pulled out his wallet.

“From this moment on.”

In his hand gleamed the corporate card.

“There is no pork on the menu!!!”

A roar of cheers shook the restaurant.

* * *

“I still can’t believe it’s really over.”

“Same here. It feels like we’ll have to start setting up again tomorrow morning.”

Even after Eun Baekhap left early, the conversations didn’t stop. The excitement refused to fade.

“Yeoreum! Come take a photo with us!”

“Okay—.”

I took countless photos at the party.

Everyone must have missed me terribly all this time.

From table to table, people kept calling my name.

The staff’s SNS stories were broadcasting the scene live.

‘And the communities will probably grab them in real time.’

I’d bet anything there were already over a hundred articles praising Ji Haebeom’s generosity.

Even the finale’s impact was being used like this.

A top actor really was different.

‘One day... when I earn a lot of money too....’

I’ll stack up phones like Ji Haebeom and give them as gifts.

Yeoreum, you didn’t have to do this. Oh, it’s nothing compared to your hard work. Actually I needed a new phone anyway. Why? Because I keep saving your photos and my memory keeps filling up. Oh my... Then I’ll set today’s photo as my wallpaper and organize all the Han Yeoreum photos into folders. Actually I prepared 512GB just in case. Will that be enough? I already subscribed to ten terabytes on XCloud. Hahaha hahaha hahaha hahaha....

“Yeoreum. Are you that happy?”

While I was quietly laughing to myself, a whisper came from the seat beside me.

Myeong Jeha poured soda into my glass.

“Of course I’m happy. You know what kind of production this is.”

Just thinking about it made my heart burn hot.

Because I knew.

There would never again be a drama that surpassed forty percent ratings.

Thinking about how it had carved its mark into Korean drama history made my head spin with accomplishment.

“You worked hard. People cursed you a lot after episode one, but you’ve forgotten that now, right?”

And the person who spoke next was someone capable of completely shattering Han Yeoreum’s shallow calculation meter.

I smiled brightly and shook my head.

“That criticism came from viewers who didn’t understand KBC’s grand vision. I didn’t care at all... if anything, I’m the one who should be grateful....”

Ah...

To be sitting at the same table eating with the drama center director...

In the past I could never have imagined it.

Of course there was also the MBS drama center director, but at some point my inner social climber had stopped calculating him entirely.

He just felt like a homeroom teacher now.

“Did you finish packing?”

Director Ja, who slid a bowl of cold noodle soup toward me from across the table, asked.

“...Packing...? What...?”

Seeing my expression, everyone nearby suddenly fell silent.

All eyes turned toward me.

What?

“Hey, Ja Sokhwan! You didn’t tell her?”

“I thought she’d obviously know.”

“Well, the atmosphere kind of makes it obvious... like Santa coming on Christmas.”

I didn’t understand what they were talking about, so I poured vinegar into my cold noodle soup.

“Reward vacation!”

Just as I was about to take a bite, the center director began explaining, and I set my chopsticks down again.

Wait—what did he say?

“Of course! With results like this, you get a reward vacation!”

What...? We’re going...? Me...? Han Yeoreum...?

“Kyyaaa!”

I covered my mouth with both hands.

Wasn’t that something only super popular celebrities got?

Han Yeoreum really was a rising popular actress now.

It felt like the broadcasting station had stamped an official certificate.

My chest burned as if someone had poured hot charcoal over my heart.

“You really had no idea?”

“No way. By around episode sixteen we were already checking our passports.”

“Yeah. If they didn’t send us, we were ready to light soju bottles on fire and throw them at the center.”

“You little bastards....”

Clutching my racing heart, I asked.

“What... do you do on a reward vacation? I’ve never even imagined something like that.”

I stuttered because I was so excited.

Ji Haebeom, sitting next to Director Ja, answered.

“You wake up in the morning, check attendance, go to an amusement park together, shop, rest. In the evening you have a campfire and talk about your grievances. Sometimes fists start flying... which is why we go overseas. If it happens domestically, it becomes a problem.”

“Huh, really?”

“No. Fake.”

Are you kidding me...

For a split second I stared at Ji Haebeom with icy eyes.

Endure it.

He’s a top star.

Within 0.1 seconds I broke into a bright smile.

Good. Natural.

“Hahaha!”

He shrugged his broad shoulders lightly.

“You don’t have to laugh if it’s not funny.”

“It was hilarious, sunbaenim. The best joke. Five thousand stars. I’ll remember it and use it someday. Definitely.”

“...I didn’t realize it would be that unfunny....”

A top actor really could read social cues instantly.

“Anyway. We’re going somewhere warm, so go relax and recover from all that fatigue.”

I cautiously asked the smiling KBC center director.

“Where are we going?”

The center director replied contentedly.

“Taiwan!”

* * *

“Ugh...!”

This was the MBS Drama Center in Sangam.

The center director held his forehead and cried.

Right now, no one felt the impact of 〈The Great Garland〉’s popularity more strongly than people inside the industry.

The weight of the phrase “national drama” was impossible to ignore.

“Don’t feel discouraged... honestly we weren’t aiming to become a national drama anyway... the higher-ups aren’t expecting forty percent ratings either... they’re saying with the Han Yeoreum boost we probably won’t hit the lowest ratings possible... so don’t put too much pressure on yourself... why are you crying at your age... this is why the younger staff avoid being around you... you’re too emotionally invested....”

“That’s exactly your problem, So Yesol!”

The center director struggled after taking a critical hit from the brutally honest healing-drama director So Yesol.

“Right. National drama. Historical dramas can take that title. But we’re MBS—the network that captures trends! So what should we aim for? Forty percent ratings? That ridiculous goal? I ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) wouldn’t even dream of it. Instead our target is—You know it too, So Yesol!”

At that, Director So nodded.

“...A life drama.”

Riding the peak popularity of Han Yeoreum, 〈Youth Disqualified!〉 would finally upload episode one of its vlog—disguised as a script reading—tomorrow.