I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

Yeoreum already showed signs of having gotten somewhat used to rural life. Her bent, worn-in sneakers said as much.

“Then let’s check the movement paths. Rehearsal begins-!”

Wearing a white T-shirt, a loose checkered shirt, and jeans, Yeoreum entered the village hall with her hair roughly tied in a single knot. She looked every bit like Jung Yeondu, exhausted from endless odd jobs.

* * *

“So— cute!”

So this is why people say small-healing, small-healing. Director So had an innate sense. A puppy that fit perfectly with countryside visuals bounced toward me, wagging its tail.

“This is Boksun.... A puppy born last month from the village chief’s dog....”

I hugged Boksun tightly. The warm puppy smell radiated. Boksun energetically licked my face in greeting.

“Oh no. I have to get mad at this one. Director, what if Boksun ends up hating me?”

Boksun’s role was to follow the irritable Jung Yeondu out of the village hall with all its might.

“It’s okay... Yeoreum. Just do it like Yeondu.”

Like Yeondu. A vague instruction.

Palm-sized Boksun was soft, squishy, and warm. It felt like the only living creature in this rural village that gave me a feeling of rest.

‘Like Yeondu....’

I entered the village hall according to the rehearsal. I grabbed the doorknob and waited for the action cue.

Then—clack!—the sound of the slate rang out.

“Action!”

I opened the door of the village hall and stepped out. As soon as the faintest sign of someone appeared, Boksun ran over wagging its tail. Then it clung to my leg, whining as if asking to be touched.

“....”

Han Yeoreum would have touched it immediately, but right now I was Jung Yeondu.

‘First, let’s control my expression.’

No matter how much the fluffy white cotton-ball rolled around, everything in the world was a bother right now. Just moments ago, I had helped the grandmas resolve the authentication certificate problem on their phones.

‘I don’t want to make more work for myself here.’

If I played with this puppy even for a moment, the grandmas might catch me again. Then they’d start persuading me to become the new village chief.

‘Everything is annoying. I’m running away.’

Without hesitation, I turned my steps and faced away from the village hall.

I could see the cameras capturing me. Without making eye contact, I walked forward.

‘I kind of get it, but not fully....’

But something tiny, barely anything, bothered me.

Not anything big, but something that interfered with perfection.

I felt Boksun whining and chasing after me.

Even though I hadn’t petted it once, hadn’t said a word to it, it came up asking me to play.

‘Ah. Now I get it.’

Something Jung Yeondu would do came to mind.

“Director, one moment. Can I adjust my movement?”

* * *

Director So adjusted the camera positions and once again murmured in awe.

‘...This wasn’t in my expectations.’

Director So had expected a Yeondu who, after glancing at Boksun indifferently, would give a tiny smile as if she couldn’t help it. He never imagined she would evoke Yeondu’s inner heart this deeply.

“I want to run off leaving Boksun behind.”

“Why...? For what reason...?”

“Because Yeondu would probably want it to follow her.”

Han Yeoreum’s interpretation covered a point even Director So had not put into words.

“Yeondu is crushed by responsibility, but I think she feels her sense of purpose by helping others. Otherwise... she wouldn’t accept every request from strangers she meets for the first time.”

Camera path resetting was completed. Yeoreum went back into the hall, and Boksun was held briefly by a staff member. The frame was now set a bit wider than before. The rural scenery filled the view clearly in one sweep.

“...Action!”

Director So called out to Yeoreum again. The closed hall door opened without hesitation.

“Woof!”

The moment the staff loosened their grip, Boksun dashed forward.

Just like before, it wagged its tail wildly, unable to contain its joy at meeting her. It jumped around her legs, clung to her, and rolled over to show its belly, asking to be petted.

“Even if someone doesn’t help her at all. I think she’d be weak toward someone who shows affection from the beginning. And maybe she’d instinctively want to run away because such a being feels unfamiliar.”

A presence that didn’t exist in Jung Yeondu’s life. A puppy that greeted her with joy without asking for anything.

Yeondu looked at Boksun for a moment, then turned away. Her steps quickened.

“Go away.”

Coldly walking ahead was Yeoreum, while Boksun followed with all its might. Beyond the unpaved dirt path, green leaves shook in the wind. The sharp summer sunlight shone refreshingly over the two.

“Go away!”

Yeoreum began walking faster and then eventually running. But because of her bent sneakers, she couldn’t gain speed.

Boksun quickly caught up. When Yeoreum stopped running for a moment, Boksun rolled over again to show its belly.

“...So annoying, seriously.”

Only then did Yeoreum bend her knees and reach out her hand to Boksun.

Her hands moved awkwardly, as if she hadn’t petted many dogs in her life. It was nothing like the hands that gripped screwdrivers to turn bolts or handled bank apps. Completely clumsy.

“Why do you lick hands so much.”

Boksun licked Yeoreum’s hand nonstop.

Normally Yeoreum would have pulled back saying it was dirty, but instead she muttered while looking down at Boksun.

“Are you hungry?”

Just then Boksun whined as if answering.

“...Okay.”

Director So quietly signaled the end of the scene.

“Director! Should we stand by again?”

The camera director who had run with the camera asked.

But it was a pointless question. Director So shook his head.

“No need to reshoot....”

A one-take OK. Truly perfect.

* * *

“Then we’ll begin the presentation.”

At that same time, a presentation for JC ENM’s second-half performance indicators began. Thanks to the unprecedented success of the newly launched “Web Content” division, the entire plan had been restructured.

“If you look at the final episode of 〈ParCheHi〉, the views have surpassed 6 million and are steadily rising toward 7 million, and after checking in the INTUBE studio, the early viewer retention time is at five minutes and thirty-five seconds—.”

It was now a world where viewers /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ who watched a single video to the end were far rarer. It wasn’t like TV, something you could play in the background while doing other things.

‘Because a phone screen has too many choices.’

If the video wasn’t interesting, viewers could switch to another SNS, reply to overdue messages, shop, or play mobile games.

High accessibility meant the drop-off rate was equally high.

‘But an average view duration of over 5 minutes....’

For a snack-culture web drama to be watched that long meant one thing.

“The metrics are showing that now we have to go beyond ‘snack culture’ and produce new types of content. Accordingly, our Web Content Department plans to produce web dramas consecutively in the 3rd and 4th quarters—.”

The flow of society was changing. Viewers would soon become even more accustomed to new types of content produced for Intube. Jegal Rok nodded.

“There is a constant rise in subscribers requesting a 〈ParCheHi〉 spin-off. Looking at SNS reactions, well-known reviewers with large followings are interpreting 〈ParCheHi〉—.”

No one watches and re-watches a ten-minute video several times to interpret it. They’d rather move on to the next piece of content.

But even after the drama ended, viewers remained. They analyzed it and agonized over it like they would a drama produced by a major broadcasting station.

‘If a second and third 〈ParCheHi〉 are created, and web dramas receive as much attention as cable network dramas... what then.’

Jegal Rok began tapping his mental calculator. If they moved faster—beyond even needing to discuss overseas distribution rights—they could reach a broader world immediately.

“Among the web drama scripts submitted, Team Leader Seong, can you show the ones you think are promising?”

“Yes. Currently, we’ve selected several school-life scripts similar in tone to 〈ParCheHi〉, including 〈Fragments of Seventeen〉, 〈Sunday Library〉, and 〈Graduation Ceremony〉.”

The screen shifted to the PPT they had prepared for second-half production planning.

Jegal Rok thought of Han Yeoreum again. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason. His intuition was simply pursuing her.

“And what about the original content project we discussed last time?”

At Jegal Rok’s question, Team Leader Seong pressed the remote. Then the projector screen changed.