I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

The day after the cast arrived. Director Gong, who had reached the set early while preparations were still in full swing, looked up at the artificial sky that had now become familiar.

This place, modeled after the heart of Venice, had a painted sky stretched across the ceiling so convincingly that it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

For the past few days, every time anxiety kept him from sleeping, Director Gong had come back to stand before this artificial lake.

But even staring at the calm ripples failed to calm his own mind.

A dazzling space that could make your eyes spin. Thinking about how incredible this place would look inside the frame should have filled him with excitement, yet the pressure weighed on him just as heavily.

Because no one understood better than him that good locations demanded a matching price.

[Jang Seonggwang fails to reach break-even point three projects in a row... “He used to be a director you could trust” Rating 3.0]

[Break-even point: 2 million. ends in disastrous box-office failure... “A romance with no spark”]

[“This cost THAT much to make?” Confused moviegoer’s one-line review, ends pathetically]

The film industry was the kind of place where even a crying director would immediately stop once production costs entered the conversation. And right now, was Chungmuro’s biggest anticipated project.

Estimated production cost: 14 billion won.

Minimum break-even point: 4.5 million viewers.

The pressure of knowing an enormous amount of money would vanish if the project failed had left ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) Director Gong anxious every single day since arriving early in Macau.

An overseas location shoot burned through stacks of cash by the second. It was the kind of massive production where even a single NG made your head spin.

Director Gong knew that better than anyone, which was why the weight in his chest refused to disappear.

But not anymore.

Watching the ripples created by the Italian-style gondola, he shouted,

“Finally...!”

There was a subtle sense of stability that existed when reliable actors were present on set. And Director Gong was the type who felt that atmosphere more clearly than anyone.

After meeting Yun Hyeonjo, Kwak Cheolsik, Joo Junseo, and finally Han Yeoreum yesterday, this entire place felt different.

He could already see Influencer 1 taking selfies on the gondola. He could see Yun Hyeonjo and Joo Junseo falling onto that gondola from the second-floor railing. He could see Kwak Cheolsik violently smashing apart casino slot machines.

Influencer 1’s delighted exclamations mixed with excitement, the noisy sounds of casino machines, Chinese spoken by gang members, Chen Wei’s cigarette smoke, the sound of someone falling, someone being crushed beneath hard dress shoes.

Production cost: 14 billion won.

Minimum break-even point: 4.5 million viewers.

The numbers tormenting Director Gong gradually vanished, replaced instead by scenes like those.

“Director~.”

Han Yeoreum walked toward him from the distance. Influencer 1, dressed in a red one-piece dress instead of red hair.

“Welcome.”

Director Gong decided to let the rest of his worries drift away with the waves. It was finally time for the real battle measured down to the second.

* * *

It was currently 3 a.m. The Venice canal had only been rented for six hours.

‘Once it passes nine, the stores will start opening.’

Launching a single gondola cost roughly five million won. And that was the minimum estimate.

Maybe because I knew exactly how much money the Macau shoot was burning through, my heart kept pounding.

‘If I cause an NG, I’m absolutely dead.’

Because they still had to finish the seniors’ action scenes today too.

There was no way I could recreate the atmosphere from that music video set again.

This scene was meant to showcase the scale of the Macau hotel containing the casino. A jib camera and a fixed camera. Two cameras attached themselves to me.

“Going into rehearsal check—!”

The sound of water sloshing against the gondola echoed softly.

It felt like every one of my senses had gathered inside my heart. The pleasant tension right before filming pressed against my whole body.

“You take photos here, hop onto the boat, then give us one little stumble and keep going straight through. Got it?”

“Yes. I’ll go.”

I gripped my phone tightly in my hand. Influencer 1 had toned down the hair color, but every other item about her was aggressively over-the-top.

Even the phone case was covered in flashy rhinestones.

“Ready—.”

Director Gong opened his mouth.

“Action!”

Click! Click! Click!

I stretched my arm out and took selfies. The camera captured me from across the bridge.

The goal was to include as much of Macau’s scenery as possible.

Any close-ups not involving the scenery would need to be filmed later in a studio back in Korea.

It felt like every surrounding environment was whispering the same thing to me. Production cost. Production cost production cost production cost.

Thunk.

The gondola stopped perfectly in front of me. I hurried to climb aboard, then naturally stumbled.

“Kyaaah!”

I wobbled slightly, and the employee holding the oar on the gondola caught me. Even with my waist bent awkwardly, I tilted my chin up slightly to maintain my best angle.

“Pretty...”

This was the moment where that song—the one that had now basically become Influencer 1’s signature theme—started playing.

With eyes longing for a new romance, I looked toward the employee holding my waist.

Then, the moment the next customer behind me spoke, I immediately straightened up.

“Thank you. No— xie xie.”

I brushed my hair back with one hand and boarded the gondola as elegantly as possible.

Very prettily.

“Okay!”

Director Gong’s bright shout rang out from across the bridge. The surrounding staff members were watching me too.

A familiar atmosphere. The sense of stability that came from a set where Han Yeoreum belonged.

“Should we keep going like this?”

Even though I already knew the answer, I deliberately asked anyway.

“Of course! It’s so good!”

Since the take got approved in one try, they immediately moved on to the next cut. Now it was time for the gondola itself to move.

Director Gong climbed onto the backup gondola. The two boats needed to move together.

‘This has to pass in one take too.’

Preparing the gondolas, resetting the camera equipment, loading the monitoring screens onto the boats. Just those little things had already consumed more than ten minutes.

The pressure suddenly hit me again. All top actors probably felt this kind of pressure.

‘When we go to Russia for the location shoot... I’ll be the lead.’

I can do this, right? Don’t mess up. Don’t shake.

Finally, the setup on the neighboring gondola finished.

“Alright. Ready?”

The camera lens pointed directly at me. I nodded.

“Action!”

The gondola began moving forward with the sound of water softly splashing against its sides. I kept lifting my camera nonstop to take pictures.

“Wooow....”

Then I turned my head to look at the blue artificial sky and the luxury stores lined beneath it.

The reason Influencer 1—who had zero interest in gambling—ended up entering a casino.

A very simple desire: since she had already come on a breakup commemorative trip, she wanted to properly relieve her stress through shopping.

Standing atop the swaying gondola, I looked upward with eyes filled with overwhelming desire.

‘Overseas shoots... two-day fan meeting with 1,000 seats... Hollywood... 15cm Han Yeoreum plushies....’

It was truly acting with my soul poured into it.

* * *

At last, it was the final sequence of Han Yeoreum’s gondola scene. Arriving on set, Kwak Cheolsik let out an impressed laugh.

“Colt’s pretty damn good.”

“No kidding.”

Yun Hyeonjo, who had arrived around the same time, also watched Han Yeoreum. A jib camera had been installed to film the arch bridge overhead.

“Ready—.”

As the gondola carrying Influencer 1 passed beneath the dark bridge and emerged back into the lights, the brief moment where the luxury stores disappeared from her sight only intensified her longing for them, leading her to decide almost immediately to head for the casino.

“I thought this would take another thirty or forty minutes at least.”

“Me too.”

“Then why’d you come out so early?”

“Just in case.”

Yun Hyeonjo was obsessed with efficiency.

In this industry, shoots not ending on time was basically common sense, so there was usually no reason to arrive early.

“Yeah, same here.”

Kwak Cheolsik felt like he understood why Yun Hyeonjo had made such an inefficient choice.

An unconscious belief that Han Yeoreum might finish everything without a single NG. Something like that existed.

Since this was already the third project they had done together, the two of them had become far more accustomed to abnormal situations than most actors.

Because they knew how quickly Han Yeoreum immersed herself into a role.

“Huh. Looks like that guy came out early too?”

“He was already here before me.”

“Then he must’ve come out the second Colt started filming.”

Joo Junseo stood beside martial arts director Kang Hanseong, receiving final feedback on the angle of his arm.

Dressed in a black shirt with a red handkerchief tucked into his chest pocket, he already looked exactly like Chen Wei.

An “okay” signal rang out from the gondola beyond the bridge. Meaning Han Yeoreum hadn’t caused a single NG throughout the entire dawn shoot.

“Feels like we’re hitting ten million again.”

At Kwak Cheolsik’s words, Yun Hyeonjo replied,

“We better.”

With help from the surrounding staff, Han Yeoreum stepped off the gondola. She didn’t look tired in the slightest.

Yun Hyeonjo watched Joo Junseo immediately hurrying over toward Han Yeoreum after her scene ended.

“Hey. Look at him. He’s making his move already.”