I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

“Hey! Han Yeoreum!”

The moment the lecture ended, someone shouted my name.

“...Dami?”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone! I thought you didn’t wake up~.”

So Dami. With her gentle eyes looking at me, Dami had been a classmate I was close with around this time.

Back when I was wandering and caught a nasty case of the “real actor” syndrome, she ★ ★ had been the only one who tried to stop me until the end.

‘And the last thing I said to her was telling her to stop interfering in other people’s lives and mind her own....’

Why was I such a childish idiot?

Thinking about it now, she would’ve been fully justified to cut me off.

‘Honestly, if it were me, I wouldn’t have tried that hard to stop someone like me.’

Seeing Dami—who had kept reaching out to me even after gaining recognition from a romcom project—made my heart sting.

‘This time... I’m dumping all the useless classmates and seniors. I’m focusing only on Dami.’

Choosing others over her. Even now, it makes me feel like a moron.

“Did I drink too much yesterday? From now on, let’s limit it to one bottle each. Seriously.”

From the tone, it seemed Dami was the one I drank with yesterday.

I remembered.

‘Before enrollment, we all gathered for drinks as classmates.’

Drunk on art school fantasies, wasting time talking about acting theories, our future as actors, the Korean film industry—utterly pointless things.

“Yeoreum, later we’re meeting again as classmates—”

“Dami, sorry. I can’t drink anymore.”

But now, none of that.

‘I don’t have time to waste.’

I had to catch up to Do Gyeoul as fast as possible.

The status window I’d checked earlier for Do Gyeoul looked like this:

[Name: Do Gyeoul]

Level: Follower 1.07 million

Title: Daughter of Domunjeong / Genius Child Actress / #1 Actress Favored by Teens / Star Brand Reputation #7 / Zephyr Muse

‘Why does she have so many titles?’

I stared at Do Gyeoul’s window and felt the wealth gap. Meanwhile, I had barely a single character left—Unknown Actress.

‘It’s not like she’s a title hunter....’

Seeing the stats below made the comparison worse.

Immersion: B+

Analysis: D

Delivery: D

Agility/Improvisation: B+

Concentration: C

Fame: B+

Artistry: D

Skills

〈Protagonist on Stage〉 B

〈One Who Overwhelms the Gaze〉 B+

Everything was two tiers above mine. And she had two skills—one the same as mine, but far superior in grade.

It was discouraging... but—

‘She started acting at least ten years earlier than me. Can’t help that for now.’

I’d catch up soon enough, so I wasn’t too worried.

* * *

As soon as I returned home, I opened the system again.

“Please, beginner’s luck...!”

This was why I turned down drinks with classmates.

It was time to use the “Skill Ticket” I got from the first mission.

‘I’ve never had anything close to good luck before, so please!’

With trembling hands, I pressed “Use.”

Pop—!

Light burst from the status window as a roulette wheel spun.

Drrrrrr—

The circular roulette spun too fast for me to read any words, accompanied by flashy sound effects, then stopped instantly.

「The Second Look (C)」

Online or offline, the one thing a star needs is the public’s gaze! Whether it’s your real appearance, a photo, a video, even your voice—people will stop for a moment and focus on you. Depending on the skill mastery, it affects your Fame.

Right after I drew the skill, the second mission window appeared.

「Mission The First Step of Self-PR」

Keyword: First Stage

When someone searches your name someday, the first thing they’ll see is? Your profile photo! Take a photo that represents you well, post it on SNS, and receive over 500 likes.

Success Condition

[It must be taken by someone with Artistry Grade B or higher.]

Reward

Increase in [Fame]

Increase in [Artistry]

What the hell.

‘...Is this... good?’

* * *

Correction: this skill is not very good.

“Is that her?”

Word of Professor Geum Bitgang’s class yesterday spread quickly.

‘Not just other departments—our seniors too...’

They came to see me.

Look at this atmosphere. The arts departments always have that rigid hierarchy.

‘I can already see how this is going.’

Graduating seniors must be desperate. At this stage they expected to debut, yet even getting one audition is a struggle.

‘At the very least, they want to stamp their faces somewhere before graduating.’

And for that, connections were crucial. When directing majors filmed their graduation projects, they wanted to cast themselves as the leads.

‘They drag along easy underclassmen to use as extras and assistants. Film sets are always short on hands.’

One senior, chin lifted proudly, swaggered over to me.

“Hey! I heard you act well? What was your name again—Han Yeoreum?”

“Great timing~. You probably don’t have much on-site experience yet. We’ll help you.”

I lifted the corners of my mouth in a faint smile.

‘Help me? Please. Don’t get in my way.’

In my previous life, I ran around doing unpaid work even for one-line roles, but things were different now.

‘I’m never doing that again.’

Of course they wanted me—they must have heard about the acting class. How could they not?

‘I’m the one! The Han Yeoreum even Professor Geum Bitgang acknowledged!’

I suppressed the stupid grin trying to burst out when someone called out to Do Gyeoul entering the classroom.

“Hi, Gyeoul!”

Do Gyeoul paused mid-step and met my eyes. We silently stared at each other.

“Han Yeoreum... right? Hi.”

Only then did Gyeoul speak first.

Her gaze was different from yesterday’s brief encounter. Her eyes held no emotion at all while looking at me.

Pure observation. No like or dislike.

‘...This is creepier.’

But as if switching masks, Do Gyeoul changed her expression and approached with a pleasant smile.

“I didn’t get to say hello yesterday. Your acting was really good.”

Her voice was so clear it was almost admirable. I gave a half-hearted nod.

An instinctive disgust thumped in my chest.

‘...Calm down.’

The memories of that horrible car accident tried to resurface.

‘Officially, this is our first meeting.’

I forced my expression steady and smiled lightly.

“You did well too.”

At my words, Gyeoul lifted her lips in polite gratitude. Then she smoothly took control of the center of attention.

“Did everyone come to see Yeoreum?”

“Well, uh... partly? More came to see you though...”

The seniors answered her while bowing their heads slightly.

It made sense.

‘If you had to choose the most successful actor here, it would be Do Gyeoul.’

She debuted at age five and was listed in countless works until age fifteen.

At sixteen she disappeared, saying she was preparing for college exams—then smashed through the hardest art university in Korea as the top scorer.

‘Everyone knows instinctively.’

Who stands higher in the food chain, even among students.

“Gyeoul, why did you come to this school? Are you starting acting again?”

“Help with our project~ we have such a good script. Just read it once!”

Everyone was desperate to get on Gyeoul’s good side.

‘I guess I should be relieved I’m at least outside their main target zone.’

I waited for a good moment to slip away, planning to return once class started.

“I have issues with my agency. It might be difficult... scripts are piled up.”

Just when I slowly edged away, Do Gyeoul grabbed my wrist firmly.

Heat radiated from her grip.

“Instead, how about Yeoreum here! I saw her yesterday—wow. She was incredible.”

...What?

“If it were me, I’d cast Yeoreum as the lead. I’m so curious. The acting she’ll show from now on.”

At her one sentence, the atmosphere flipped instantly.

The seniors, who had been bowing to Gyeoul, snapped their heads toward me with shining eyes.

This was a tactic Do Gyeoul had used before.

The professional term: dumping the scraps.

‘You think I’ll fall for it twice?’

Back then I didn’t know any better, and I had been so proud that the great Do Gyeoul acknowledged me.

‘She hogged all the commercial works and sent me running around doing unpaid, pointless jobs.’

In the past, I would’ve jumped at this scrap of approval and run around everywhere.

But now it was different.

‘Do you know how many hundreds of thousands of won a profile photo shoot costs?’

I don’t do unpaid work. I was about to refuse immediately when—

“Alright, alright—! I know everyone’s excited, but back to your seats~.”

Thankfully, before Gyeoul could lock me in as her extra sacrifice, the professor walked in.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and calculated my escape angle with precision.

* * *

As soon as the class ended, I ran like hell.

Because if Do Gyeoul refused their request, they’d definitely try to drag me instead.

“What about me? I’m really good at acting too! Anyone want to see~?”

Thankfully, seeing my troubled expression, Dami stepped in as my personal shield.

‘Dami. I will never forget this favor.’

I only stopped running once I reached the entrance of the Film Department building.

‘Anyway... I need to find a part-time job fast....’

Even without professional hair and makeup, it costs over 100,000 won. Add the profile photoshoot and it easily climbs to several hundred thousand.

‘I still don’t know the system’s exact criteria but...’

To get 500+ likes and meet the “Artistry B” requirement, I had a gut feeling I couldn’t shoot at some cheap-looking place.

“Sigh... If I work a logistics job for about three days...”

My part-time-worker instincts—carved deep into my bones—flared to life.

I sighed and habitually scanned the bulletin wall at the Film Department entrance.

‘Sometimes they put assistant jobs for shoots here.’

Among the pile of posters, maybe there would be something useful.

National scholarship applications, film screening dates, and then...

‘Huh.’

There it was. Something caught my eye among the dozens of posters.

Simple colors, clean font. Yet the design radiated skill.

I hurriedly read the text.

“Knew it.”

My eyes hadn’t been wrong.