Chapter 32: Don’t you think it would fit well?

The transition from night to dawn.

At the outdoor set, the people present were reaching the height of their excitement. Now that the ice had broken and with plenty of drinks and grilled meat, the atmosphere was impossible to dampen.

However, there were those who chose to decline such a lively gathering.

“Yes, Sua, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mystic Entertainment’s CEO, Kim Yi-seo, ended the call.

Of course, Kim Yi-seo wasn’t alone. Sitting nearby were writer Lee Geum-sook and PD Choi Heewon, clinking their glasses together.

PD Choi Heewon spoke up.

“Sua has made it. She’s already getting calls from CEO Kim herself.”

Writer Lee Geum-sook, observing the scene, chuckled.

“Maybe it’s CEO Kim who’s made it. Did you notice how many talent agents came by today? They were all chasing after Sua. It looked like they were desperate just to hand her a business card.”

“Well, after seeing her perform as Kim Yuhan, it’s no surprise….”

The three of them were enjoying a private, low-key drinking session. Staying at the main gathering could make their juniors feel uncomfortable, and besides, this was much more convenient for them.

Writer Lee Geum-sook set her glass down and mused aloud.

“Whatever agency she signs with, the terms will be extraordinary. Sua seems to be quite skilled in negotiation too.”

“…A rookie, skilled in negotiation?”

It wasn’t a dismissive question but rather curiosity. After all, it’s rare for a rookie to have significant experience in negotiations.

But both Lee Geum-sook and Choi Heewon nodded firmly.

Writer Lee Geum-sook explained.

“Of course. Just look at this drama. A rookie would usually beg for a chance, but she even managed to secure a per-episode fee.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“And today? In front of all those agents, she delivered that impromptu performance and walked away like nothing happened. What do you think that means?”

A subtle smile played on Writer Lee Geum-sook’s lips.

“It’s her way of saying, ‘Come and crawl under me.’”

Meanwhile, Kim Yi-seo returned to her office.

Though the night deepened into the early hours, the lights remained on.

In the center of the room stood a pristine whiteboard, covered with photos of actors and entertainment agencies. Connecting arrows, scribbled notes, and sticky memos were scattered across the board.

At first glance, it resembled the relationship charts detectives use during investigations.

At the very center was a single sheet of paper with just three characters written: Lee Sua.

Kim Yi-seo focused coldly, intent on analysis.

She reviewed which agencies were pursuing Lee Sua, their respective strengths, and the actors they already represented. Information was power, and at this moment, information was all that mattered to Kim Yi-seo.

She maintained sharp concentration throughout. She periodically checked the current market value of rising rookies, meticulously weighed what she could offer, and identified what must not be compromised.

How much time passed like this was unclear.

“Of course.”

Kim Yi-seo leaned against the sofa, her expression thoughtful.

“To hold onto her, ordinary terms won’t suffice.”

Meanwhile, at the outdoor set, the gathering was still going strong.

Thanks to the large open space, setting up rows of tables and chairs had transformed the location into a massive campsite. The sound of meat sizzling on the grill heightened everyone’s appetites.

And, naturally, the drinks flowed freely.

“Do you have enough meat over there?”

“The meat’s fine, but could you bring more drinks?”

The atmosphere was warm and lively, fueled by the successful conclusion of the mock shoot. Even the weather seemed to cooperate, as if aware of the mood.

However, the crowd wasn’t large.

It was late, and many had left due to scheduling conflicts, reducing the group to about a third of the original size.

Now, the scene resembled more of a cozy street-side bar than a full-fledged celebration.

“The actor who played Kim Yuhan…”

“…gave me chills, didn’t they?”

Even now, Lee Sua remained a hot topic of conversation. Meanwhile, Hwang Myung-pil found himself lost in thought.

Naturally, his thoughts were also about Lee Sua.

“Her ad-libbing was unbelievably good.”

Hwang Myung-pil, known for his comedic expressions, was a supporting actor.

As a mere supporting role, he relied heavily on ad-libs to make a name for himself. In fact, his title as a “masterful supporting actor” was largely thanks to his witty ad-libs. He would continue to cherish them, for they were his lifeline in the acting world.

But…

“What kind of ad-lib could I possibly use against Lee Sua?”

He couldn’t come up with anything.

No matter what he thought of, Lee Sua would likely respond skillfully. That wasn’t the issue. The real concern was whether he could deliver an ad-lib without being completely overshadowed.

He simply couldn’t get a read on her.

Her voice, as cold as the winter sea. Her expression, impenetrable like a thick shell. Yet amidst all his confusion, there was one undeniable fact.

“Her skill is insane. She’s going to skyrocket soon, and if I play my cards right, I could ride that wave with her.”

Lee Sua’s talent was unquestionable. If he could avoid being overshadowed, he could potentially benefit from her success.

It was an exciting prospect, albeit one dependent on him holding his ground in their performances.

Then, someone abruptly spoke up.

“But she’s still just a rookie, isn’t she?”

The voice carried an odd mix of drunkenness and sharpness. It seemed they were finally letting out their frustrations with the help of alcohol.

“Sure, she’s a great actress, but isn’t personality a separate issue? Wouldn’t it be better if she acted a bit more friendly on set?”

“Hm.”

“I’m just saying. You know how it is. Some actors get so caught up trying to deliver their best performance that they end up exhausting everyone around them.”

“Right.”

“Like locking themselves in their van to get into character, refusing to come out, or delaying shoots, making the whole crew wait for them. I hate that sort of thing.”

Listening to this, Hwang Myung-pil clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“You fool, no one even uses the word ‘friendly’ anymore. Was Sua supposed to stay behind and grill meat for everyone tonight?”

“That’s not what I meant. I just hope she doesn’t act too full of herself. I just want us to get along, that’s all.”

“Then why don’t you stop being territorial first? What did Sua do wrong? The only thing she didn’t do was join the dinner, and you know why she couldn’t make it.”

“…Was there an important reason? I didn’t hear anything.”

“I didn’t hear it directly either, but it’s obvious.”

Hwang Myung-pil downed a shot of soju and then spoke.

“You seem to have forgotten, but Kim Yuhan is an incomplete character. Writer Lee hasn’t even finished writing the mid-to-late scripts yet.”

“Wait, what…?”

“We have the luxury to relax and have fun. Why? Because we’ve had the scripts for ages. We’ve rehearsed and warmed up. But Kim Yuhan?”

“What about Kim Yuhan? There’s so much to figure out, and the mid-to-late scripts aren’t even out yet. Do you still not realize how selfish you’ve been?”

Those who had initially agreed with the complaint now hung their heads. They couldn’t help but agree.

Lee Sua, just focusing on Kim Yuhan, likely didn’t even have enough time.

“Come to think of it, that makes sense.”

“Have you seen the dedicated script for Kim Yuhan? It filled an entire box!”

“…If I had to memorize just the lines, I wouldn’t manage.”

“But judging by today’s ad-libs, her understanding is no joke. Did she really go through all of it? Wait, did she even sleep?”

“She probably… didn’t have time.”

The atmosphere grew solemn.

Hwang Myung-pil spoke again.

“You have to understand, her life operates on a completely different timeline than ours. With a character like Kim Yuhan, the actor has to handle everything from understanding to interpretation and execution. She doesn’t have time to relax. Honestly, it’s a pity.”

“…Now that I think about it, I was so unfair.”

The person who had raised the initial complaint looked incredibly embarrassed.

“From now on, we won’t have time to slack off either.”

Kim Sun-il spoke up for the first time.

“At the launch party for production, Sua said something interesting. That, in the end, no one except herself would stand out.”

A sudden silence fell over the group.

Did she really say that?

Then again, she seemed like the type of person who might say such a thing.

And with her level of skill, it wasn’t something to brush off.

As tension spread across their faces, Kim Sun-il added,

“Everyone will have to give their all if they want to be remembered.”

The room grew utterly still. Nothing about their earlier conversation felt like a joke anymore.

While misunderstandings about Sua continued to pile up, one person in particular was trembling.

It was none other than Park Do-hee.

She kept typing and deleting a message on her phone, over and over again.

What should she do? She had provoked someone who defied common understanding.

How could she even begin to apologize? The words wouldn’t come to her.

The next morning.

Lee Sua was already at the hospital, arriving just as it opened.

“Phew, thank goodness…”

She muttered to herself in a voice filled with relief.

The doctor assured her it was nothing serious. Even so, as someone just starting her career as an actress, the mere thought of a scar on her arm had terrified her.

With her biggest worry resolved, she finally had the bandwidth to check other things—starting with the messages she received in the early morning.

[Unknown Number]
“Hello, I’m Park Do-hee.
Ah, I was practicing and accidentally hit send.
Sorry about that.
I have a lot to apologize for, but I’ll start with this. Sorry!”

“…What exactly is she practicing?”

Surely she wasn’t practicing biting people, right? Sua thought to herself. This person was certainly unique.

[Seo Yeon-ju]
(A selfie with a peace sign and a table full of food in the background)
“Hope we can eat together next time!”

“…Insane. How is she so pretty?”

That was Sua’s immediate reaction. All she could focus on was Seo Yeon-ju’s face.

Was this woman given some kind of advantage? Like… a face perk?

Well, either way, it seemed like they had fun. Still, even if she could rewind time, Sua was sure she’d skip the gathering again.

She knew herself too well. If she’d gone, she would’ve been so suffocated that she wouldn’t have been able to eat anything—not even a single grain of rice. She was certain of it.

Instead, now it was time for something else.

Her meeting with Mystic’s representative.

The meeting had been arranged quite suddenly, and while it wasn’t an invitation Sua could easily turn down, she didn’t want to. After all, this was the person who had funded the short film “The Sword” with a first-class script. Of course, she owed them a listen.

Still…

“Could they possibly demand something outrageous in return?”

A small part of her was nervous about the possibility of some unreasonable request. But she quickly shook her head. No, that couldn’t be it. From their conversation in the van, they hadn’t seemed like a bad person.

Shortly afterward, Sua arrived by taxi.

“Wow…”

That was her immediate reaction upon entering the Mystic Entertainment building.

The interior was predominantly white and sophisticated.

But what truly caught Sua’s attention were the three enormous portraits prominently displayed: Seo Yeon-ju, Kim Sun-il, and, in the center, Kim Yi-seo, the representative.

What would it feel like to have one’s face displayed so grandly? What would it be like to come and go from such a place as if it were your own home? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Just then—

“Excuse me, are you Lee Sua? We’ve been expecting you.”

A woman in a sharp suit approached her. She even had a name tag pinned neatly to her chest, exuding professionalism.

Caught off guard, Sua nodded instinctively.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m surprised you recognized me at first glance.”

“The staff said if someone particularly intimidating arrived, it would be you.”

“Sorry… what?”

“…It’s nothing. Please, follow me.”

With that, the staff member led Sua down the corridor, and in no time, she found herself standing before the grand doors of the CEO’s office. The massive doors creaked open, revealing Kim Yi-seo seated at her desk, ready to greet Sua.

There was a brief silence.

Kim Yi-seo, the CEO of Mystic Entertainment.

In the van, Sua hadn’t even been able to catch a glimpse of her silhouette due to her small stature. This was the first time Sua was seeing her properly, and she couldn’t help but be surprised.

…Wait, is she really this small?

With a face the size of a fist, light brown hair reminiscent of a wheat field, and two oversized hairpins clipped into her bangs, her appearance was striking.

But most noticeable of all was her petite frame—delicate and tiny.

If it weren’t for her serious expression, it would have been hard to believe she was an adult. Honestly, even now, she looked more like a little kid.

She looks like she walked out of a comic book. Is this even possible?

Sua thought that if someone took her photo and wrote an article titled “The World’s First Middle Schooler as CEO”, people might genuinely believe it.

As Sua was lost in these thoughts, Kim Yi-seo spoke.

“Sua, it’s nice to see you here at the Mystic building this time. You’re as sharp as ever. Your presence feels more polished every time I see you.”

Sua muttered under her breath, unsure if that was meant as a compliment.

“Anyway, let me formally introduce myself. I’m Kim Yi-seo, the CEO.”

“I’m actress Lee Sua.”

At that moment, Sua felt a surge of pride. To introduce herself as an actress—what a day. In her mind, her inner self stood tall with confidence, chest puffed out.

“Great. So, for today, let’s talk as Lee Sua, not Kim Yuhan. By the way, did you get home safely yesterday? How are you feeling?”

“No issues at all.”

“…As expected, your passion for acting is extraordinary.”

…Uh, no? That was just the doctor’s assessment.

“I understand you have a packed schedule ahead, Sua. I heard your short film shoot starts tomorrow. Speaking of which, I fully funded that film. Were you aware of that?”

“Of course.”

Sua nodded. It was precisely because of that fact that she hadn’t been able to refuse today’s meeting.

“Ah, but don’t misunderstand.”

Kim Yi-seo waved her small hand dismissively.

“I have no intention of asking for anything in return for my investment. Let’s just call it your travel expenses for coming here today.”

Sua’s thoughts spun. Really?

I was sure she’d ask for something… but she isn’t?

Was she just that generous? Or did she hold Sua in such high regard?

…Maybe both?

Curious, Sua asked, “Then, what was the purpose of calling me here today?”

“Well, Sua,” Kim Yi-seo began.

“Yes?”

“When you walked into the building, what did you notice?”

Recalling her first impression, Sua answered honestly, “The giant portraits, mostly.”

“Exactly. There’s still one empty space.”

Kim Yi-seo nodded thoughtfully.

“Don’t you think your face would look great up there alongside the others?”

“Uh… no?”

Sua responded without much thought.

My face? Up there? That’s a disaster waiting to happen. Visitors would run away screaming. What am I, some kind of human repellent?

Of course, there were other problems too. Having her portrait displayed next to Kim Sun-il and Seo Yeon-ju? The comparison alone would be catastrophic.

But why is she even asking this? Some kind of icebreaker?

“Huh?”

Sua tilted her head in confusion as Kim Yi-seo suddenly started sweating nervously.