I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

* * *

‘Oh. A second title.’

The first thing I checked after opening my eyes was the status window.

‘Even thinking back on it now... yeah, I did really well yesterday....’

I didn’t think I would ever forget that perfect sense of unity — that moment when the character and I had become one.

‘...But.’

My body felt strangely heavy....

“Hey! Are you okay?”

Dok Gomin fussed over me as she checked my forehead. She never gets up at this hour... did I sleep in that late?

“Unni, what time is it....”

My voice was completely wrecked. Gone. My throat hurt every time I swallowed, probably because my tonsils were swollen.

“Right now? Nine.”

“Why are you awake at this hour....”

“I didn’t sleep. I stayed up all night.”

Squelch—.

While I was talking to Dok Gomin, something cold abruptly landed on my face.

“This moisture... this soothing effect... this cooling....”

“And not only that — it even has a lifting function. I knew this would happen. My foresight? Good, right?”

Dok Gogyeol tugged the mask pack upward along my jawline and slathered my lips with a thick layer of lip balm.

Truly, a first-rate professional who used to travel with top actors. The cold mask pack against my overheated face finally made me feel alive again.

At some point, a humidifier had been turned on in the room.

“I want to keep this voice for the shoot... so please turn off the humidifier....”

“Sweetie. Are you sane right now?”

“Han Yeoreum’s out of her mind. Yep. Completely out. Want me to show you the thermometer?”

“It’ll only hurt for a bit... but the footage lasts forever. Since I’m sick anyway, let’s use it for realism....”

Their faces twisted — clearly because they could tell I wasn’t joking.

Knock, knock—.

“Yeoreum... are you awake?”

Director So came in hugging Boksun tightly. As soon as Boksun saw me, she wagged her tail so hard she nearly whined from excitement. I reached out and took her into my arms.

“It felt cathartic yesterday, didn’t it...?”

“Yes. I cried really hard.”

“Then rest for another couple of hours, and when you’re back in a peaceful Yeondu state... shall we begin again?”

“No. Right now’s perfect. If I rest more, my condition will recover... so please start setting up right away.”

Director So nodded, as if he expected that answer.

We were now at the end of the location shoot. Sunlight filled the room through the window.

Only now did I finally feel like, as Yeondu, I could let all of yesterday’s emotions go. The time I had felt like I was alone in the dark pit — though I never showed it — faded into the distance.

* * *

“Sniff, sniff... There’s just— there’s no content, absolutely no content to feed on....”

Aetami was obsessing over Yeoreum on a nanoscopic level. and the ALAB commercial — those were all the official crumbs she had.

“Sometimes she uploads photos on her Stories, but....”

Location photos popped up once in a while, but it was nowhere near enough. Far, far from enough. As usual, Aetami habitually searched Yeoreum’s name on the portal site.

“Huh!!! It’s Yeoreum!!!”

Director Jang of had just had an interview uploaded to a portal site.

Aetami clicked it instantly, reflexively.

She skimmed through the parts about producing a web drama — an unfamiliar format — stories from the set, what ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) the director intended. Then she saw Yeoreum’s name and froze mid-scroll.

Apparently the reaction to the final episode was explosive. They even showed the cast dinner to viewers through a live broadcast.

—It was Yeoreum’s (Pi Chaewon’s) suggestion. Our main viewer demographic leans heavily toward ‘memes’ and ‘SNS culture.’ I was worried that showing the dinner might give too casual an impression, but I’m glad we did it. It felt like we were having our own premiere.

“Of course... our Yeoreum....”

She wanted to scream: This is my actor, everyone! She’s already thinking of the viewers this much!

Actually, I had watched the live broadcast too. A pro who reaches out to viewers this way — it felt so refreshingly web-drama-like that I enjoyed it. I even wanted to follow them to round two.

—Hahaha. If I’d known, I should’ve turned it on from the start of the wrap party. Yeoreum and Junseo even went to buy ice cream for the staff themselves — you have no idea how cute and thoughtful they were.

Director Jang fully played the role of Yeoreum’s wholesome anecdote dispenser. And near the end of the interview, he even dropped a teaser for his next project.

—I want to try a fresh genre again for my next work. Maybe something like a ghost story.

“I need the next project to have Yeoreum as the lead too!”

Aetami stomped her feet. If it was a ghost story, the production cost would definitely be higher than , which meant the quality would also be incomparable.

‘I can’t stand it. I need to see Yeoreum again.’

So, she opened Yousta to check Yeoreum’s SNS.

And then—

“Huh???”

A new photo had been uploaded.

“No way....”

It was unbelievably refreshing yet bitter in tone. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

“Is this a pictorial?!”

* * *

Click— click— click—.

This was Dok Gomin’s studio. After watching every moment of Han Yeoreum’s Seoul shoot, Dok Gomin had now begun working on the still cuts.

‘Just a little faster... even a little faster....’

The weary eyes she had shown on the subway platform, the dullness in her voice weighted with life’s fatigue, the body language of someone trying to run away from everything — yet with the faintest ember of will left.

‘Faster, faster....’

Whenever she remembered the moment Han Yeoreum looked upward from inside the pit, that suffocating emotion came back, hitting her square in the chest.

She wanted to capture that feeling in a photograph. To go one level beyond simply “beautiful.” But something just beyond reach refused to be caught.

Click— click— click—.

Dok Gomin worked non-stop. Her hands moved frantically, her eyes darting from place to place as she manipulated the photos. The status window hovering above her head glimmered endlessly.

Artistry: A+

‘One hour... barely a little over one hour of footage.’

consisted of eight ten-minute episodes, and counting only Yeoreum’s parts, the total runtime was just over an hour. Her next project, , was also a one-hour drama.

‘It’s nowhere near enough.’

Han Yeoreum was a genius. But it would take viewers much longer to accept such an obvious truth.

That frustrated Dok Gomin deeply. What was so obvious to those who had seen Yeoreum on set would not immediately translate to those watching her through a screen.

Click— click—.

Her hands grew even busier. She watched the sun rise and set several times from her seat in front of the computer. The donut boxes and coffee cans around her multiplied.

“It’s done....”

At last, with typography added, Yeoreum filled the screen.

It wasn’t the kind of poster anyone would make for a one-episode drama. It was the kind of quality fit for a film festival submission.

Especially the shot of her sitting on the wooden floor, holding plums in her hand — the colors, the composition, everything was perfect. Even the clouds in the sliver of sky looked huge and pure white.

And somehow, just barely... it almost felt like the Yeondu in the photo was speaking.

That she could finally breathe again.

“Unni. You finished this already?”

At some point, Yeoreum had entered the room. Her voice came from behind. Dok Gomin collapsed onto the desk. Having poured out every drop of her energy, her eyes were closing on their own.

“Wow. Of course. This is Dok Gomin. The best senior. A full fifteen-hundred stars.”

Click— Yeoreum moved the mouse to view the next photo.

Boksun peeking her head out from Yeoreum’s arms, the scene of them riding the tractor into town, Han Yeoreum standing on the subway platform — the photos passed by one after another.

Each one felt like it held a faint trace of the moment they’d lived.

“...I’m going to work with Do Gyeoul too.”

Dok Gomin spoke quietly. Her words were slurred from exhaustion.

“And other people... if I get offers, I’ll take them... I won’t choose anymore....”

The status window above her head shimmered again, dazzlingly.

“So Yesol or whoever — like that strange director said... even if I shoot with tons of people, I’ll make sure that when people hear ‘Dok Gomin,’ they think of Han Yeoreum first.”

Artistry: A+

“So don’t... run too far ahead by yourself.”

Bzzz— bzzz— bzzz— bzzz—.

Before her monologue could even finish, the phone on the desk buzzed wildly.