I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

Even Director Park had, until just moments ago, found himself unconsciously careful about even letting out a breath.

The silence-laden air from earlier quickly dissolved.

The staff all chimed in with comments of their own, and Han Yeoreum’s manager, tumbler in hand, approached the actress whose mouth had surely gone dry from delivering such a massive stretch of dialogue.

“Director, should we keep the dialogue speed exactly the same?”

Even after finishing that long sequence, there wasn’t the slightest trace of fatigue on her face.

When Han Yeoreum had become Lee Seohae just now, she had delivered every sentence with the exact same pace and rise-and-fall.

“Mm-hm. Just like that. If she can keep it exactly the same, that’s perfect.”

And that was precisely what made Han Yeoreum look so much like Lee Seohae.

Lee Seohae does not converse.

She merely outputs what has been input.

She adds no personal emotions, no private opinions of her own.

Those refined sentences were what defined Lee Seohae.

I’m really... looking forward to this.

Park Jaeyoung’s heart genuinely trembled with anticipation for the day the public would finally see Lee Seohae in 〈Unfair Trade〉.

There had been nothing.

No sound effects, no OST, no intercut montage scenes.

And yet Han Yeoreum had still pulled the tension upward.

If all the supporting elements for that scene were added later, just how high would the final quality rise?

Park Jaeyoung found it impossible to measure.

* * *

This was Haebo Brewery, located in Mokpo, South Jeolla Province.

Founded in the 1950s, it was one of the representative brewing companies of the Honam region. Its signature products included Fresh Leaf Soju, real black raspberry wine, and—

“This quarter’s sales are also trending upward, with a 12 billion won increase year-over-year...”

—the company that produced Creamy Soda, the drink people thought of first when recommending something for solo drinking.

As she listened to the presentation in full swing, the chairwoman’s face lit up into a smile the moment the next slide appeared.

“...Continue.”

Chairwoman Han was known for being so stoic that people often said she only had one expression.

And yet there was someone who could make even her smile.

[Sweetly, all by myself.

A Soda on a Midsummer Night]

That someone was Han Yeoreum.

The moment the photoshoot image of Han Yeoreum holding a can of Creamy Soda appeared, Chairwoman Han smiled brightly, as if she were looking at her own granddaughter.

If one ranked Korean soju brands by sales volume, the eternal number one was First Dew with a 25% market share, followed by Like Now at 20%, Jeongro Is Back at 15%, Joeun Day at 10%, Daeseong at 8%, and then, awkwardly stuck in sixth place, Fresh Leaf °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Soju with only 5%.

But in the low-ABV market targeting solo drinkers, it was proudly one of the top three.

There was the beer-based Sparkling Dew.

Then Smooth Berry Soda, which had a similar taste and aroma but felt slightly more like actual alcohol.

And then Creamy Soda.

After Han Yeoreum became the face of the campaign, not only had makgeolli sales exploded, but Creamy Soda had also become the clear leader of the low-alcohol market.

“More importantly, Haebo Brewery’s SNS followers have increased by roughly fifty thousand over the past year. The recently updated Intube commercial’s view count...”

Where university drinking culture in the past had been a collective pour and drink culture, this was now the period when drinking was gradually shifting into something personalized.

Alcohol to be enjoyed lightly.

This was exactly the moment when the idea of drinking alone was taking root in everyday life.

Alcohol was no longer about performative consumption or hierarchy-driven culture.

“By pushing the image of alcohol as a truly private experience centered on taste and atmosphere—or an MZ-generation healing image—we launched the new Creamy Soda mango flavor alongside the hashtag event #WantToDrinkWithMe?IfNotThenMango. In just three days, participation posts are approaching one thousand.”

If this era had to be described in one phrase, it was a crossroads of change.

From Acebook to Youstagram.

From television stations to Intube.

From sixteen-episode dramas to ten-minute video clips.

From CDs to streaming.

From purchase to subscription.

From small but certain happiness to flex culture.

From the collective to the individual.

And all of this....

Haebo Brewery’s chairwoman, Han Myeongsuk, thought of Han Yeoreum.

At every crossroads of change, Han Yeoreum was always there.

She was the woman who had pushed past four older brothers and claimed the chairwoman’s seat for herself.

A trendsetter with instincts far sharper than her age suggested.

The true global era is about to open.

The world connected by Intube would only widen once more through NetHolics.

People would no longer only obsess over algorithms tailored to the individual—they would lose themselves in the curated lists NetHolics laid out before them.

Han Myeongsuk was certain of it.

Looking once more at Han Yeoreum standing against a sweet amber-orange backdrop, holding the new mango Creamy Soda can, Han Myeongsuk smiled again.

A sweet taste built around fruit flavor.

A low-proof alcohol level with no heaviness.

A bottle size perfectly enjoyable on its own.

The product structure and marketing had both precisely targeted the needs of solo drinkers who wanted good prices and delicious alcohol, so there was no way Creamy Soda’s overseas expansion could fail.

And above all else—

“The pop-up?”

“Yes. The pop-ups at Taipei Shin Kong Mitsukoshi Department Store and Taipei 101 Mall are on schedule to open next month without issues. We moved the date forward to align with the broadcast of 〈The Great Garland〉.”

“The keyrings.”

“Here is the completed sample.”

The brewery storyline that appeared in 〈The Great Garland〉 had been Haebo Brewery’s PPL.

Watching Creamy Soda’s sales figures, Han Myeongsuk’s faith in Han Yeoreum only solidified further.

The moment she received the script, she had invested without asking a single question.

Who would’ve thought the Hallyu restriction would help this much?

It would not be an exaggeration to say Haebo Brewery had benefited the most from 〈The Great Garland〉.

The season-limited vintage bottle version of Fresh Leaf Soju had surpassed 40 billion won in sales in a single month.

Considering the disadvantage that it could not be sold online due to age restrictions, that number was an astonishing achievement.

The PPL in 〈Youth Disqualified!〉 had also been Han Myeongsuk’s decision.

Thanks to that, the female consumer demographic in their twenties and thirties had been firmly secured.

The scene of Na Yuna, Jeong Heejeong, and Go Yungyo drinking Creamy Soda was already being consumed online as a healing masterpiece scene, making it impossible to imagine better advertising.

“Good. We’ll open a new market in Taiwan just like this.”

Once the presentation ended, Han Myeongsuk spoke as if making a vow.

“And with Fresh Leaf Soju's new model, we’ll aim for number one in the industry.”

It was something Han Myeongsuk always said.

From the very moment she first sat in the chairwoman’s seat, she had absurdly aimed for first place.

Even though First Dew’s annual sales had already surpassed one trillion won, she spoke as if effort alone would one day make it possible.

“We’ll be the ones to lead the new consumer trend. Haebo Brewery will do it.”

Fresh Leaf Soju's exclusive model contract was already nearing its end.

And now Haebo Brewery was targeting Han Yeoreum as its new face.

Do Gyeoul for First Dew.

Eun Baekhap for Like Now.

Han Yeoreum for Fresh Leaf Soju.

The industry leader had over one trillion.

Second place had also reached one trillion.

And Fresh Leaf Soju was still only sixth with 140 billion.

But Han Myeongsuk sincerely aimed for first place.

With Han Yeoreum, it truly felt possible.

* * *

There wasn’t even time to collect myself. When I opened my eyes, I was already at the airport.

Today we were on our way to fulfill the schedule for preparing the Taiwan broadcast of 〈The Great Garland〉.

Thanks to the Critics Choice win, the number of people in Taiwan who had grown curious about 〈The Great Garland〉 had increased dramatically, so the original plan had been moved up.

I took the mirror Coordinator Hwang handed me and checked my face.

“Yeoreum, your cheek.”

“Yeees.”

A few strands of hair had stuck to my cheek because my head had tilted to one side while I was sleeping. Thanks to Coordinator Hwang’s gentle touch, I was definitely going to beat Eun Baekhap... beat her... bea—

‘Winning or losing in beauty isn’t what matters.’

Because when it came to cuteness, I was the overwhelming victor. And people were naturally weaker to cute things anyway. Scientifically. So in the long run, I had won.

“All right, all right. Time to get out.”

Manager Choi pressed the brakes gently.

After stepping out of the car, I waved at the reporters gathered at the airport.

“Ms. Yeoreum!”

Before they could even ask for a finger-heart, I had already switched poses. I wasn’t just an actress anymore—I was a professional actress.

‘Honestly, I’d really wanted to get photographed....’

The filming for 〈Unfair Trade〉 had been bouncing between remote locations and sets, while 〈Youth Disqualified!〉 had been nothing but indoor shoots for days. Thanks to that, there hadn’t been any Han Yeoreum good-deed posts or sighting stories online.

‘That simply won’t do.’

I’m this cute. Everyone needs to see me.

I have a duty to provide daily crumbs for Summer Days.

“We’re heading in.”

No, unnie... I don’t want to go inside yet....

But I was led into the airport by Manager Choi’s hand.

After finally escaping Na Yuna styling and Lee Seohae styling, this was Han Yeoreum airport fashion at its cutest and most lovable, okay? Was it really fine not to show more?

“Hi hi, junior.”

“Huh? Senior, you got here first?”

I greeted Shin Seojin, who had arrived ahead of me.

‘I can see it.’

Han Yeoreum’s vulgar little calculator started turning in my head. Maybe because I was meeting my own kind again after so long, it was working even better than usual. It was running beautifully.

‘The calculation to show off his bulked-up body: choosing a short-sleeved tee with the sleeves rolled up twice even though it isn’t that hot. Then adding a leather bracelet with rough finishing to emphasize the veins on the back of his hand. Even calculating carrying the large suitcase himself to show off masculinity.’

My own hair was in an awkward half-grown bob, but I’d added a natural C-curl at the ends to make people feel like they wanted to copy it, and I’d matched the coral blush and lip from Brand D’s summer collection—the one I was ambassador for—to give off the vibe of some kind of mango fairy.

“Your airport fashion looks great today. Especially the bag.”

“It’s thanks to you, senior.”

Shin Seojin lowered his voice discreetly and smiled.

Ever since the making-film contract, he had been sending me the Ohahasa fortune every morning. It felt like getting a premium subscription service for free.

“Right. Ohahasa is science, so it’s good to trust it. Good, good.”

“Then today’s lucky color for you is charcoal?”

At my question, Shin Seojin shook his head slightly.

“Gold.”

Then he slowly lifted his arm.

‘The buckle part is gold...!’

A sleek rectangular buckle hidden among the rough textures. Come to think of it, Shin Seojin had said he’d become Brand P’s ambassador.

‘A senior whose everything is calculated.’

It was strangely soothing. He was different from the people I’d met so far. I gave him a thumbs-up.

“So? Does today’s styling look like something women would like? Hahahaha. Seriously. Honestly. Please, really.”

And Shin Seojin truly had no pride at all. As if he lived only to be popular with women....

Faced with his desperate gaze, instead of social-life version Han Yeoreum, I showed him real-friend version Han Yeoreum.

“Everything’s good, but the fit of the pants is a little awkward. It also kind of screams determination to desperately show off the Brand P logo belt.”

“Ahhh. Thank you, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What about me? In your opinion, senior?”

“At your age, everything looks pretty no matter what you wear.”

Since it was a weekday, the airport was relatively quiet, but people were already slowly gathering because of me and Shin Seojin.

Feeling the reality of his popularity, Shin Seojin smiled brightly at the cameras and waved.

‘I can’t lose....’

The desire to steal even Shin Seojin’s fans and turn them into mine flared up.

From the looks of it, even arriving earlier than departure time was just like me. He must’ve come early just to give fans even a little more service.

‘Next time, I’ll be the first one here.’

Who am I?

Han Yeoreum—the one who would turn even the people who picked Shin Seojin as their ultimate bias from “just another actor I kind of like,” to “second favorite,” and finally into Han Yeoreum being their ultimate favorite.

* * *

Eun Baekhap didn’t like the sight of those people chatting so warmly at all. Her deep eyes behind the sunglasses were filled with irritation.

“Hahahaha. Really?”

“I’m telling you.”

She could hear the conversation about 〈Unfair Trade〉 happening between Shin Seojin and that brat.

Including Reporter Wi from Daily Media, the journalists were talking while going through departure procedures. That conversation itself would become an article, so technically it was part of their work.

‘What are they grinning about....’

Eun Baekhap hated it.

Stories from the 〈Unfair Trade〉 set were no different from noise to her.

“Is it true Writer Seomun Ihwa visited the set? Just tell us a little. Juuust a little.”

When one reporter asked, Shin Seojin deliberately talked Han Yeoreum up.

“I sadly didn’t get to see her, but she came during my junior’s shoot. And the filming went really well that day. There was almost an accident, but she handled it perfectly.”

“Huh? What accident? Ms. Yeoreum, were you hurt?”

“It wasn’t anything big. Just a tiny nosebleed....”

“Oh nooo.... How did that happen....”

Watching the reporters treat Han Yeoreum like they were handling a child, Eun Baekhap muttered inwardly,

‘What a damn circus....’

She gritted her teeth, wishing the line would move faster, and a quiet grinding sound escaped.

A low laugh came from Ji Haebeom behind her.

“What’s funny.”

“There are a lot of ears listening here.”

She had nearly failed at image-making. That was how extreme her irritation had become.

Ji Haebeom and that brat were equally pathetic.

Eun Baekhap instantly changed her tone.

“...Hehe.... Why are you laughing?”

“Because I’m in a good mood about the Taiwan trip?”

“Me too.... Hehehe....”

Forcing up the trembling corners of her mouth, Eun Baekhap smiled, but the Taiwan trip felt absolutely shitty to her too.

She still hadn’t forgotten the nightmare of the reward vacation.

Ever since that day, that brat had been constantly tormenting her.

“We’ll be back safely. Reporters, please head in too.”

Han Yeoreum bowed deeply as she entered through the gate.

This was finally the point where the reporters could no longer follow.

After quickly getting her passport checked, Eun Baekhap sped up to catch up beside Han Yeoreum, then whispered quietly,

“Hey, do you want to die?”

“All of a sudden?”

Looking at Han Yeoreum’s clear innocent eyes, Eun Baekhap said what she had to as a senior.

“Is now the time for you to be giggling around with Shin Seojin? Planning to meet some man? Sure... just hurry up and date already. Get married, hand Writer Ahn over to me, and retire. Damn it.”

“That’s moving way too fast.... If smiling means marriage, then does that mean senior, who even filmed a kiss scene with Shin Seojin, is going to stay with him till the grave?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Did you forget who set you up with Director Park? I saved you from almost getting pushed out by that damn bastard Noh Seungchan, and now you wipe your mouth clean like nothing happened....”

A sinister note entered Eun Baekhap’s voice.

“Set up the meeting while I’m still asking nicely.... Got it?”

“To be honest, you’ve never really asked nicely....”

“Don’t talk back.”

“But if I arrange a meeting between senior and Writer Ahn, wouldn’t that mean I get pushed out of that next project...?”

“Who the hell said it’d be the very next project? Stop overthinking. There’ll be the project after that, won’t there? Writers always do that thing where they get tired writing one thing, then open another window and start something else. Idiot. What would you know.”

“The project after next?”

The density of her stupidity had somehow gotten even worse while I wasn’t looking.

Eun Baekhap sighed.

Honestly, she felt like tying her to the airplane wheel and taking off like that.

“If the next project hits right after the current one, then investment money pours in even harder for the one after that. Ah... damn it, how much do I have to spoon-feed you? Anyway, just take it as true.”

At that, the brat’s cheeks flushed pink.

“...You must really think Writer Ahn’s next work will definitely succeed if I’m the lead.”

She even twisted her body shyly.

Only then did Eun Baekhap realize this brat had desperately squeezed praise out of her words and her expression hardened.

“Could it be that riiight now... you’re also watching 〈Youth Disqualified!〉 live?”

“Hey!”

At Han Yeoreum’s shy smile, rage surged through Eun Baekhap and she raised her voice.

In an instant, everyone’s attention snapped toward them.

‘Ah, damn it....’

For a brief moment, Eun Baekhap froze under the sudden spotlight.

“What are you two talking about that’s so fun?”

Ji Haebeom, who had been walking ahead, turned around.