I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

“...Really?”

“Of course. When have you ever seen me lie to you?”

“Seriously?”

“I told you, it’s true.”

No matter how many times I asked, I still couldn’t believe it.

If it was unconditional support from Myeong Jeha, then I absolutely...

“Grand Prize...”

The certainty that I could stand at the very top in the near future made my heart pound violently.

A scenario centered around me. Investors joining under Myeong Jeha’s name. Screen time built around me. His acting, following my lead wherever I took it. My name in the first billing. And Myeong Jeha standing beside me.

I looked at him—the perfect partner on that path. I couldn’t tell if this was a dream or reality.

“What a materialist.”

Myeong Jeha’s voice, laced with laughter, was gentle.

“Ah, I’ve got a call.”

Still not letting go of my hand, he picked up the phone with his free hand.

“Wait here.”

He brushed the back of my hand, then stepped out of the van, opened the door, received the drinks from the delivery driver, took a photo for him, exchanged a few words, and came back. While all that happened, I kept replaying our conversation over and over in my head.

Grand Prize.

The weight of something only given to the very best actor felt like it was pressing down on my entire body.

Click.

Myeong Jeha opened the van door, drinks in hand.

“Shall we go back?”

The still-chilly January air brushed pleasantly against my cheeks.

The heat from my tension and embarrassment cooled, and I found myself smiling.

“To go kiss.”

“Ah, why do you say it like that!”

“Why? Just a moment ago you were saying you wanted to do romance with me so badly. Changed your mind already?”

“That’s totally evil editing.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before.”

“You said not to shorten things weirdly, so I made it longer for you.”

“You listen well.”

I snatched one of the drink bags from his hand. I should make it look like I bought it too. Another addition to Han Yeoreum’s endless list of good deeds.

“Oh, right. So what should I do?”

Inside the elevator, I asked him,

“I didn’t do it properly earlier.”

“....”

“Teach me. Which part of my acting I need to fix. I don’t want to fill it with a mediocre scene.”

Myeong Jeha pressed the button and answered shortly.

“It’s not hard. Just keep looking at me like that.”

The elevator doors opened softly, and we arrived back at the set.

“Oh? What’s with you two? Something good happened outside, right? You know what I mean?”

Everything was already set when we returned. I shrugged at the directing director.

“Director, I can do really well now.”

“Huh? You were already doing well.”

“Better than that.”

Ever since hearing the word “Grand Prize,” I couldn’t stop smiling. At this rate, I felt like I could capture an even better scene than before.

Even the slightly awkward atmosphere on set—right now, I felt like I could overturn it completely.

Just like the sets Han Yeoreum used to be on,

That joy of pulling what’s in my head right into reality.

I had to turn this into a set filled with that rising heat.

“Don’t call ‘okay’ unless it’s a perfect shot. I’ll really do well.”

As if he understood exactly what I meant, the director nodded.

“...Alright. Let’s give it another go.”

But after that, it was nothing but “okay” after “okay.” My acting had become far more natural than before.

The light home date scenes flowed smoothly, as if the earlier delays had never happened.

“What is this...”

“Mmm...”

Seeing all the staff covering their mouths with both hands, smiling, it didn’t seem like a compromise “okay” this time.

“Be honest. You were messing up on purpose earlier, and then once you got in a good mood, you matched me, didn’t you?”

Something felt suspicious. I didn’t think I’d changed that much. This had to be entirely Myeong Jeha’s acting attitude.

I whispered so only he could hear.

“Me? Haha. Why would I?”

“Because I haven’t been paying my respects lately, so you picked a day to discipline me or something...”

“You knew and didn’t do it? I thought you were just busy. So it was on purpose after all.”

“See? I knew it. Honestly, once people get older, shouldn’t they become more generous...? Is it really okay to act this petty over work...?”

I kept my expression steady as I whispered, but Myeong Jeha smiled brightly.

“You’re right. If I’d known Yeoreum was waiting for a chance to do romance with me without even contacting me, I wouldn’t have done that.”

“...Hey... don’t....”

“Were you secretly imagining kissing me too? Is that why you’ve been waiting for this music video shoot? No wonder you kept looking at my lips....”

“Are you some kind of crazy old man?!”

“Haha. Your titles for me keep evolving.”

The music video shoot was far more intense than I’d expected. Since all the scenes were filmed in one go, there was barely any time to rest.

But we finished it properly.

Without a single compromised scene, exactly the way I wanted it.

“...This is...”

“Wow...”

Even the scenes I’d been worried about—

“Should we do one more take?”

I asked the director, my voice tinged with tension.

But the director and Shim Juhwan, who had been staring at the monitor for a long time, shook their heads with overwhelmed expressions.

“Yeoreum is really good at acting nervous...”

“This feels real...”

I wasn’t even that nervous. As expected—who am I? Even in a field I’m trying for the first time, I amaze everyone and pull out the best on-set reactions. The best actress, Han Yeoreum.

The music video shoot ended perfectly. As if it had never been stuck in the first place.

* * *

A studio in Mapo District. An energy drink can was placed on a desk lined with multiple monitors.

“Director, have one too.”

“Yes.”

“Shall we start...?”

The man with dark circles clearly etched under his eyes was the main editing director of Shim Juhwan’s music video.

The directing director sitting beside him looked just as exhausted, but his eyes were different.

“Why do your eyes look so sparkly, Director? It’s like...”

“Like a man in love. You know what I mean.”

“No, more like a default character who rolled one really good eye item in a game.”

“Once you watch this footage, you’ll look like this too.”

“I don’t like that look. It’s weird. What is this?”

Seeing the directing director clutching the energy drink can with both hands, wearing a girlish expression, the editing director shifted slightly farther away.

“Alright, the first clip should be... here.”

[INTRO]

Click.

The editing director clicked one of the neatly sorted files. Myeong Jeha appeared, standing alone in a dark room.

“Damn, that face is insane.”

“Right? But he looks even crazier in real life.”

“He already looks crazy on screen.”

“No, seriously! If you see him up close, you won’t even be able to talk.”

Ignoring the directing director’s exaggeration, the editor nodded vaguely and dragged the clip into the editing tool.

“His partner this time was Han Yeoreum, right? If it’s with Myeong Jeha, the sweet couple scenes must’ve been easy.”

“....”

At that, the directing director clicked his tongue in regret.

“Why? Not really? No way.”

“How should I put this...”

“Too nervous and stiff? I get {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} that. I mean, it’s my first time seeing close-up shots like this. How does a human face look like CG?”

Click.

When the editor double-clicked, Myeong Jeha’s face filled the entire monitor. The directing director shook his head.

“No, at first, there wasn’t that kind of vibe. He was good, but it felt too textbook. You know what I mean.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s like he’s acting based on what he thinks he should do. When you put them together, the chemistry is great—the visuals match perfectly. But that heart-tickling feeling? It wasn’t there.”

The intro with Myeong Jeha’s solo scene passed, and finally, their first meeting appeared on screen.

Under the bright midday sunlight, the atmosphere of them stealing glances at each other was fresh and perfect.

“Why? It looks great to me. Aren’t your standards too high?”

“This wasn’t from the first shoot—it was filmed later. The first one was the sofa scene. If you see that, seriously...”

The directing director’s eyes sparkled again.

But the editor didn’t react and dragged in the next clip.

To reach the sofa scene, they had to go through the latter half of the first verse. A scene of the two in the library appeared.

“Why am I already embarrassed...”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’ll see in a bit. Once you watch the raw footage just once, you won’t be saying that.”

The editor had seen too many videos over time. He was the type who didn’t get easily moved. No matter how good the acting was, he rarely felt anything strongly.

“There’s not even any dialogue.”

In music videos, actors not speaking was the default. The song explained everything.