Chapter 77: Ham Ah-yoon

Columbarium.

A woman stared blankly at the box containing ashes.

“…Even after death, Dad lives in such a cramped place.”

Her tone was stiff, devoid of emotion. However, it also sounded like she was suppressing an overwhelming torrent of feelings. Under the light, her golden hair rippled like liquid gold.

Her name was Ham Ah-yoon.

The box containing the ashes was about the size of a school locker. Ham Ah-yoon, as if indifferent, gently ran her fingers over the surface of the box.

“Pathetic.”

It had been quite some time since her father passed away.

She once dreamed of playing the piano while looking at her father and had worked hard to master it. Yet, Ham Ah-yoon felt little affection for him. He was poor and lacked any remarkable piano skills.

In such circumstances, Ham Ah-yoon had been the miracle in their lives.

With outstanding beauty and natural talent that bore no resemblance to her father, it was as if heaven had bestowed a gift upon them.

But that wasn’t the reason.

Ham Ah-yoon’s indifference to her father wasn’t because of his mediocre piano skills or their poverty.

It was simply that she still couldn’t understand his words.

“Ah-yoon.”

“It’s not about playing until the end.”

“Do you think you played well just now?”

“No, not at all.”

Even now, Ham Ah-yoon couldn’t grasp what he had meant.

She also couldn’t understand why her father had never once praised her. Why, despite his own lack of talent or accolades in piano, he had never acknowledged her efforts.

Winning the Leeds International Piano Competition. First place.

That was no one’s achievement but Ham Ah-yoon’s.

To achieve it, she worked tirelessly, always feeling as if someone was chasing her. She practiced relentlessly and succeeded in the end. Yet, her father always criticized her.

“Ah-yoon!”

“You’re playing like that again!”

“It sounds awful to me!”

Why?

How could someone who was never recognized, who never reached these heights, claim to know better? She had reached the pinnacle he never could, so why couldn’t he celebrate her?

Was it jealousy? Inferiority? Was it really such petty emotions?

“Dad, I’m an actress now.”

Ham Ah-yoon spoke briefly.

She had already reached the heights she dreamed of as a pianist and was now living a new dream as an actress. Unlike others who rested after reaching the top of their field, she had moved on to another summit.

She was elite. She had to shine always.

If life were a musical score, Ham Ah-yoon wanted hers to be completely filled, every part glowing with a brilliant melody. Only then could her life become a perfect composition.

“I’m not like you. I’ll live magnificently, shining brightly.”

At that moment—

“Ah-yoon! Ah-yoon!”

Her manager’s urgent call pulled Ham Ah-yoon out of her thoughts.

“Yes. What is it?”

Ah-yoon’s Korean was slightly awkward. She had spent much of her life overseas.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re visiting your father, but this is an emergency! I had to tell you right away!”

“Calm down. Speak slowly. Don’t panic.”

“Well…”

The manager, sweating profusely, stammered.

“Director Go Tae-min! You know the role of Kim So-hee in Crescendo Begins Tomorrow? He’s saying he wants to use someone else instead of you! The production team seems to be wavering too! I think you need to go there right now!”

“…What?”

Ham Ah-yoon’s brow furrowed.

Her golden hair flowed elegantly, framing her face like a masterpiece. Yet for the first time, her calm and serene expression was marred by a frown.

It didn’t take long for them to hop into the van.

Ham Ah-yoon was the first to speak.

“What’s going on here?”

“I have no idea. Are they trying to cut your appearance fee by doing this? Talking about handing the role of Kim So-hee to some rookie—does that even make sense?”

Creating fake competition to pressure actors into accepting lower fees was surprisingly common in the industry.

It was an obvious and effective tactic. If someone hears that another actor is vying for the role they want, they’ll feel rushed and might accept a lower offer just to secure it.

But Ham Ah-yoon shook her head.

“Director Go Tae-min wouldn’t do that.”

“…Then are they saying that rookie is so talented they could push you aside? That makes even less sense!”

“Let’s just go. We’ll figure it out once we’re there.”

After saying that, Ah-yoon leaned her head against the window.

The goal in Ham Ah-yoon’s life was singular:

To shine.

She was determined to live a life that sparkled.

“I have to shine twice as brightly as others. I have to work twice as hard.”

That’s what it meant to be at the top.

She refused to live as miserably as her father had.

For that reason, she had to be part of Director Go Tae-min’s film. He was a renowned director, and the role of Kim So-hee perfectly suited her, especially given her background in piano.

“It’s not about playing until the end.”

“You think your performance was great, don’t you?”

Even now, those words from her father occasionally tormented her.

But Ah-yoon shook her head again.

Father, you were wrong.

Unlike you, I’m desperate.

Sua arrived at Director Go Tae-min’s studio.

True to his reputation as a meticulous master, the studio was well-designed, resembling more of a music gallery than a workspace. Instruments were placed all around, and the overall aesthetic was polished and sophisticated.

“…Huh?”

But soon, Sua was struck by shock.

The scene before her was completely unexpected.

The meeting room was in complete chaos, and at a glance, the atmosphere seemed anything but pleasant.

Even though a woman in a blue baseball cap had tried to pull it down low, her flushed face was impossible to hide—clear evidence of her agitation.

Amid the chaos, Sua caught sight of the production team for Crescendo Begins Tomorrow and Director Go Tae-min. The woman in the cap, standing in front of a blonde woman, was raising her voice in frustration.

“Director! Wasn’t it already decided that Kim So-hee would be played by Ah-yoon?”

“Please, listen to what I have to say first.”

“No, just say yes or no! Isn’t it true that Ah-yoon was chosen for Kim So-hee? Wasn’t this all settled ages ago?”

Sua quickly realized what was happening.

So, this Ah-yoon person also wants the role of Kim So-hee?

Sua and Kim Yi-seo kept silent, observing the situation. Inside the meeting room, no one even noticed their arrival due to the intensity of the ongoing argument.

At one point, Director Go Tae-min turned his gaze toward Sua and Kim Yi-seo, his expression filled with unease.

“Ah, Miss Sua. And Representative Kim.”

With a heavy sigh, Go Tae-min approached them.

Kim Yi-seo immediately asked,

“Director, what is going on here?”

“I’ve failed.”

“Failed?”

“Yes. I couldn’t convince those pushing for Ham Ah-yoon as Kim So-hee. Some people have started supporting Miss Sua, but the opposition…”

“The opposition has taken such a firm stance…”

At that moment, Sua realized something.

So this is why films aren’t made by just one person.

With people in the production team strongly against her, even the director couldn’t push his vision forward. Go Tae-min continued, sounding apologetic.

“They even contacted the parties involved directly, and that’s why they came to the studio immediately. The blonde woman is Ham Ah-yoon, and the woman in the cap is her agency’s manager.”

“Was there ever a decision to cast Ham Ah-yoon as Kim So-hee?”

“Of course not.”

Go Tae-min shook his head.

“I’ve never made any definitive statements. It’s just that a significant number of people on the production team are completely taken with Ham Ah-yoon, and her side is well aware of that.”

“I see what’s happening now.”

Kim Yi-seo nodded.

Even though the director hadn’t given any confirmation, a substantial portion of the production team favored Ham Ah-yoon. Her side had likely taken this as a guarantee. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the industry.

Just then—

“Who are you talking to? Is that the rookie?”

The woman in the blue baseball cap turned and glared sharply at Sua.

Sua examined her face carefully, noticing it was already flushed with intense anger.

Meanwhile, the production team began shifting around.

Before she knew it, some people were standing closer to Sua, while others gravitated toward Ham Ah-yoon. The numbers were clearly skewed, with far more on Ah-yoon’s side.

Sua understood immediately.

Factions.

There were those who supported Sua as the ideal Kim So-hee, and those who championed Ham Ah-yoon. The lines were clearly drawn.

“…They want to cast someone like her as Kim So-hee?”

The woman in the cap scoffed incredulously.

“She’s supposed to portray someone with Savant Syndrome with that sharp face? Does that make sense? Does she even have hidden piano skills or something?”

Sua chose not to answer.

In truth, she found the misunderstanding rather satisfying.

After all, she did come across as overly competent. Given her sharp and intelligent demeanor, it was only natural for people to doubt her ability to portray someone with Savant Syndrome. Being too skilled seemed to be her problem.

[?]

Meanwhile, the woman in the cap smirked.

“Well, this actually works out better.”

She tapped on the grand piano at the center of the meeting room.

“Actions speak louder than words. Let’s settle this here and now. Let’s determine who will play Kim So-hee today. It’s simple—listening to Ah-yoon play will answer everything.”

Ham Ah-yoon quietly nodded and took her seat.

Then, the performance began.

Da-da-dan—

It was exquisite.

The reaction was unanimous. The moment the music started, the woman in the cap folded her arms smugly, as if there was no need to see or hear any more. It felt like the decision had already been made.

Even the production team couldn’t hide their amazement, their jaws dropping.

But something felt off.

Without realizing it, Sua furrowed her brows.

She detected a faint flaw in Ham Ah-yoon’s performance.