I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

As the corners of Han Yeoreum’s lips lifted higher, the smile on Gi Juye’s face faded away.

Just then, a loud commotion erupted outside the venue. It was a massive wave of cheers. Judging by the nonstop flashes exploding in rapid succession, it was someone whose popularity could be felt immediately.

Do Gyeoul was entering.

* * *

Do Gyeoul watched the final episode of in her home theater. The exhilarating catharsis she felt then was on a scale she had never experienced in her life.

The moment the camera angle shifted and she realized that the gut ritual itself was another talisman, it felt as though a massive calamity was crashing down on her.

After cutting her hair with a blade, Yeoreum turned back. The shortened hair swayed lightly, revealing a desperate expression that burned itself into Gyeoul’s eyes.

Only then did the precarious, almost-complete Jang Huibin finally come together.

Resentment toward Yeomga turned into resentment toward Sukjong, and Seoryeong—who had staked her life to protect the world—became Huibin, staking her life because she refused to accept reality.

‘Yeomga is hatred. Jeongan is attachment.’

In contrast, the feelings toward Myungdo were all clear, precious things.

Affectionate, aching emotions—but ones that didn’t suit Huibin, who struggled desperately to survive in the palace while being discriminated against by status.

The emotions Gyeoul needed to pull from her mind became clear.

‘I don’t need to take Seoryeong when she’s next to Myungdo.’

She took the feelings toward Jeongan as the core, and layered in the emotions Huibin might have had before realizing what kind of man Sukjong truly was.

The feelings an abused child has toward a new guardian were converted into the doubts a girl in a conservative era might feel toward her first love. The scene of seeing an old pair of shoes and bringing back flower shoes was replaced with Huibin, having fallen in love, laying out moves for Sukjong’s sake.

Thump—thump—thump—.

Her heart raced. Her mind spun rapidly. Every Seoryeong from , which she had replayed endlessly, came alive vividly inside Gyeoul’s head.

Gyeoul closed her eyes.

In the dimness of her vision, Seoryeong appeared.

Seoryeong, who had been disguised as a man, removed her gat and let her hair fall loose. Her clothes shifted into a pink jeogori that Huibin might wear. The braided hair tied with a ribbon transformed into a lavish gache, expensive ornaments hanging between the strands. Gold patterns were suddenly pressed into the fabric of her clothes.

And over it all—venom.

Seoryeong struggling in the ritual became Jang Huibin. Gyeoul blurred Seoryeong’s facial features. Then she overlaid them with her own face.

The moment Jang Huibin was perfectly completed in her mind—

Through the speakers, Yeoreum’s precise pronunciation pierced her ears.

“O Venerable Ones of the Upper Heavens,

O Exalted Ones who govern the sky,

Great and Compassionate Celestial Lords,

Divine Sovereigns who watch over all living souls—

descend, witness, and judge....”

Gyeoul opened her eyes. In the darkened room, only the screen displaying Seoryeong’s face shone brightly. Watching Seoryeong cry like a child while calling Myungdo’s name, Gyeoul began calculating.

‘If I connect the first-meeting scene with Myungdo from episode two before the sobbing scene in episode sixteen....’

She turned Han Yeoreum’s Seoryeong into Jang Huibin like a formula. With leisurely movements, Gyeoul picked up the script resting on the tea table.

Then she burst out laughing.

“Ahahaha!”

Unlike the crying Seoryeong on the screen, Gyeoul’s laughter was filled with delight.

“Ah... I’m looking forward to it.”

That was how Gyeoul waited—for the day she would meet Yeoreum up close again.

The moment she stepped out of the van. When she waved on the mint carpet. And finally, when she entered the venue.

“It’s been a while.”

Gyeoul looked only at Yeoreum.

Do Gyeoul’s table was, naturally, right at the very front. The main seat. Whether her agency had pulled strings or not, Han Yeoreum was positioned subtly behind Gyeoul—a kind of power struggle.

“Yeah. It’s been a while.”

Han Yeoreum was no longer the Han Yeoreum of before. Not the girl she’d sat next to in the classroom and toyed with. There was no obvious aversion, no inexplicable line being drawn.

‘Somehow... stable.’

Watching Yeoreum like that, Do Gyeoul learned something.

* * *

‘What’s wrong with this seating arrangement.’

Gi Juye at eight o’clock. Do Gyeoul at two o’clock. From one side came a burning gaze of revenge; from the other, a damp, predatory gaze of observation.

‘So this is a star’s life....’

A real star who drove antis and fans equally insane. I’d have to bear the weight of popularity with humility.

‘One of them doesn’t quite feel like a fan....’

I stared at the half-exposed side profile of Do Gyeoul with dead fish eyes.

‘Fine. Let’s correct that to stalker.’

With elegant movements, I took a sip of the water in front of me.

“Getting this nervous over something so small—what are you going to do from here on out?”

It had only been a fleeting moment, but Geum Bitgang must have noticed my expression, because she spoke up.

‘Professor, I’m not nervous because of the awards....’

Beside me, Kwon Junhyeok—styled in retro fashion with his pomaded bangs swept back—nodded vigorously.

“Y-Yeah! Something this small, it’s really, really nothing...!”

“But Junhyeok, you’ve been to plenty of award shows. Why are you so nervous today?”

“It’s my first—first time as an actor....”

The Ruel Style Awards were larger than last year. The event was noticeably more glamorous. Just the number of cameras prepared had nearly doubled.

‘Everyone... please, film me....’

Because the rookie days of Han Yeoreum—the successor to Geum Bitgang, the actress who will lead Korea—are precious....

Bathed in the faint sensation of camera therapy, I pulled myself together.

Then the lights shifted. The awards ceremony began.

“Thank you all for attending the Ruel Style Awards. Shall we now take the time to select this year’s icons?”

Walking onto the stage with a microphone, relaxed and composed, was Myeong Jeha. Our gazes met briefly. Just like at the Seoul Drama Awards, he looked straight at me.

‘But I’m not nervous anymore.’

Because I had the mindset of someone with an award already entrusted to them.

‘If they don’t give Seoryeong an award here, it’ll be called a rigged ceremony.’

I lifted my chin slightly. Myeong Jeha smiled with narrowed eyes.

“First up, the Iconic Style category....”

The ceremony proceeded amid exploding flashes. One by one, names of those who had dominated the buzz this year were called.

In the meantime, I hoped my name would be called as late as possible.

“The award for showing the most innovative growth—Trailblazer of the Year....”

I want something better than Do Gyeoul. Even if it’s not ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) acting—any field is fine. I want to stand above her. I want the day to come when that relaxed side profile becomes anxious because of me.

“Do Gyeoul.”

As I’d wished, Do Gyeoul’s name was called.

She sat for a moment, savoring her name, then slowly rose from her seat. Holding the bouquet handed to her, she delivered a brief acceptance speech.

Her gaze stayed on me the entire time.

No sooner had Do Gyeoul returned to her seat than the next award proceeded immediately.

“With her wide-ranging acting, capturing viewers’ hearts—the Most-Wanted award goes to....”

Myeong Jeha deliberately added praise he hadn’t used for previous winners. Adjusting the trophy lightly in his hands, he spoke.

“Han Yeoreum. Congratulations.”

Just a hair’s breadth. Only a hair’s breadth, but the thought that I had overtaken Do Gyeoul, even briefly, made my head spin.

Geum Bitgang signaled with her eyes, and Kwon Junhyeok, seated beside me, smiled brightly and clapped. Just as I stood to head for the stage—

I was suddenly pulled into someone’s arms.

A gentle, pleasant floral scent.

“Do Gyeoul....”

Holding me, Do Gyeoul whispered near my ear.

“Congratulations, Yeoreum.”

The cameras were rolling. Flashes exploded around us. What expression was I supposed to make at a moment like this? Do Gyeoul’s hand patted my back, as if we were truly close—making us look like good friends in others’ eyes.

“You have to beat Gi Juye. Don’t ever lose. Make sure you snatch that role....”

Caught off guard by Do Gyeoul’s sudden action, I couldn’t move. The best I could do was lift the corners of my lips awkwardly.

‘What am I supposed to do in situations like this?’

My brain froze for a moment.

“Make it fun for me.”

Do Gyeoul released me. She was slightly taller than I was, so the first thing that came into view was her lips. She mouthed the words.

Fighting.

I slowly raised my gaze. It was a look I’d seen once before.

“If it were me, I would’ve gone on stage even if my leg had been broken.”

It was the last time, just before my regression, that I’d heard Do Gyeoul’s true feelings.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. It felt as if the pain of being hit by a car came rushing back.

“Yes. The two of you look so close—it’s wonderful to see. But could you please accept the trophy now?”

Myeong Jeha’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“This year’s Actor—Han Yeoreum.”

Actor. Han Yeoreum.

Strangely enough, hearing those obvious words made my legs move. I passed by Do Gyeoul and walked onto the stage.

The smooth, solid trophy settled heavily into my grasp. Bright lights poured down hot over my head, and flashes went off.

I took one deep breath.

“Thank you for giving me such an undeserved award.”

Who am I? Han Yeoreum—the one whose fan café gained thirty-four new members today, with twenty-seven new posts.

[Summer Letter / Wishing you a happy day today as well...]

I’m so happy to have gotten to know you through these days. I’m looking forward to your future performances. Please continue to soar, and always remember—your health comes first, so make sure you eat properly~ hehe

Recalling the message I’d memorized letter by letter right up until arriving at the venue, my fear disappeared. Holding the trophy, I briefly met Do Gyeoul’s gaze.

‘For now, it’s just a fashion magazine award.’

Soon, I’ll be attending broadcast awards. I’ll go to film festivals too. And there, I’ll take every trophy you once received.

“I will continue to stand before you all with good performances, as an actor worthy of the name.”

Because I am Han Yeoreum. An actor.

* * *

“Yeoreum is so cute I could die....”

At that moment, Aetami was in tears over not being able to attend the Ruel Style Awards, stuck working overtime.

The period from August into September was packed with seasonal promotions. As a result, working at an ad agency, she was having yet another dry, exhausting day.

“It’s even worse since there’s no today....”

Even soothing her tired eyes with Yeoreum’s official photos left Aetami feeling empty. The lingering impact of watching the final episode of in the theater would probably follow her for her entire fangirl life.

“But there’s a live today!”

JC ENM still had great instincts. As expected from the first broadcaster to surpass one million subscribers.

Following , the “first car live” that recreated the mood of a company dinner was already showing the premiere button before upload.