I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

Yesterday I had run the simulation in my head over and over for so long, but the moment I actually sat down in the chair, my mind went completely blank.

‘The real situation is this different....’

Back during , I had done stage greetings, and with I had even held a fan meeting in Taiwan. But this was the first time Han Yeoreum was holding a fan signing event entirely on her own.

There were no other actors.

Only me.

I alone was the protagonist of this place.

The clicking of cameras burst endlessly. Wherever I turned my head, the shutter sounds grew louder, as if someone had turned up the volume.

I could feel eyes on me even from the railing on the first floor. When I looked up, someone leaning over the railing was taking pictures of me with a camera and waving.

I waved back.

‘This is amazing....’

All these people really stopped in their tracks just to see me?

“Then we’ll start with number one.”

This wasn’t the time to space out. The fan signing event had begun.

I looked at the fan who came up holding the waiting ticket and immediately recognized them.

‘My first fan!’

I had seen them since the MusicN days.

“Hello—.”

“Hello!”

I had already memorized the name. I quickly finished the autograph and wrote it down.

“You... know my name...?”

“Of course I do!”

Actually, I even know your fan café nickname. I saw the post you wrote this morning saying you were coming to the fan signing event. I’ve already calculated the statistics showing you write posts about three times a week on average. Every single post you’ve written is saved in my gallery. I’ve even bookmarked a few so I can reread them whenever I’m tired. I also follow the Tr*tter account you created as a fan account with my private account.

If I said all that, the fan might faint on the spot, so instead I gently clasped their hands.

“We’re close, aren’t we?”

It’s one-sided, since I’m the only one who feels that close, but let’s just say it’s true.

The fan’s expression across from me changed every second after hearing that.

“Y-Yes.... See you again next time....”

Wait, there’s still plenty of time though?

I tried to call out their name while watching their back disappear quickly, but their footsteps were far too fast.

Usually they left countless enthusiastic comments on Tr*tter, but in person they didn’t say a single one.

‘You’re supposed to watch something cute before leaving though?’

I can feel a wall. Perfect. If you do this, at first you’re flustered and wondering what you did wrong, a little anxious, but you still listen to the fan’s voice even knowing you might get hurt, waiting for the next words... then you realize all of this was a friendly joke and your heart opens completely. I had prepared that exact expression of acting so naturally it would flow like water.

I practiced all night.

‘Still, I’m glad.’

Since I already knew their name, I could even write the P.S perfectly. It’s not like I’ve only been cute for a day or two, so next time I see them I’ll definitely do it.

“Hello! Oh my god! I’m really your fan!”

The fan with the next number came up, so I greeted them again.

I’ll memorize everyone’s names who comes today.

I must never forget them.

So every time we meet, I’ll sign without even asking their name.

* * *

IP 85.152’s turn was the last.

To be honest, waiting the whole time felt like such a waste.

Waiting around just to receive a single autograph from a celebrity they didn’t even like that much made them feel like an idiot. But since they had somehow luckily won the opportunity, throwing it away would also be foolish, so they simply chose to wait.

“Hello, thank you so much for waiting.”

“Yes.”

“But I’ve actually been waiting a lot too. Ever since I saw your face earlier, I really wanted to talk with you. But I held it in.”

Was fan service always like this? It sounded like sugar-coated words said regardless of who the other person was, so it didn’t feel very touching.

“This is the first time we’re seeing each other since the birthday café last year, right? Have you been well?”

“...What?”

Han Yeoreum quickly finished the autograph.

The autograph paper already had IP 85.152’s name written on it.

In that short time, Han Yeoreum had even neatly added a P.S.

P.S) I’m so so happy to see you again(
´૩`
)♥︎

Again... she said.

“I only saw you briefly back then, so I really wanted to see your face again. I’m really happy you came today! It would be even better if we could see each other often.... But since I remember your face now, if we ever run into each other on the street later, I’ll greet you first! If I call your name, you’ll turn around, right?”

She said she was happy....

“You were wearing white clothes ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) that day too, and today our couple padding jackets are both white. You must like white. Maybe that’s why it suits you so well. This jacket is warm, right? But make sure to zip it all the way up.”

Couple... padding... she said it suited me....

After that they must have talked about something else, but by the time IP 85.152 regained their senses, the fan signing event was already over, and they were standing alone in the middle of IFV Mall.

“What was that?”

Was it a dream? Or not? What was it? It felt so unrealistic it was like they had briefly been hit by a car, fallen into a coma, and then returned to reality.

IP 85.152 felt like their heart had been struck violently in a traffic accident, then suddenly their body floated upward and everything went into slow motion before dropping again. Only after repeating this a few times did they finally regain their senses.

Even though they were holding the signed paper proving the fan signing event had taken place here, they still couldn’t believe it.

IP 85.152 searched Han Yeoreum’s name on a portal site purely to confirm the facts.

[N Company: Fan Signing Event with “Nation’s First Love” Han Yeoreum of Successfully Concludes]

[Nation’s First Love Yeon Huijae Appears in Yeouido Wearing the ‘Han Yeoreum Long Padding Jacket’... “There’s a Reason It’s Trending”]

Only after reading the articles did IP 85.152 finally realize they had not dreamed it.

Scrolling down with their fingers, IP 85.152 recalled the most explosive work in Han Yeoreum’s filmography once again: .

Even after the child actor arc ended, its popularity remained.

Rather, the narrative created by Han Yeoreum and Myeong Jeha had truly propelled it forward.

Especially the moment Huijae and Taeseok reunited— it tore drama fans’ hearts to pieces.

* * *

In a creaking wooden office in Jongno, the young man always stayed up all night.

It wasn’t difficult. Taeseok’s life had always been a repetition of falling asleep at dawn and waking at dawn.

Diligence had become ingrained in his body, so he never neglected any work. Today as well, Taeseok worked through the night. Rotating his stiff neck briefly, he absentmindedly rubbed the back of it.

A familiar metallic clinking sound arose.

A faint weight was felt at his fingertips.

The young man preferred dreaming of the girl with his eyes open rather than dreaming of her with his eyes closed, and so he forgot his fatigue.

It felt too precious to look at the photo often. Since he could draw her face even with his eyes closed, that was enough.

“Taesgi, do you never sleep? Damn, you’re one tough bastard.”

At his partner’s sleepy voice as he entered rubbing his eyes, Taeseok tucked the necklace back inside.

“Don’t you have to be tough to make money?”

“Yeah, you tough bastard. Go on and rake in all the money!”

In the office with a single small yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling and documents stuffed until they overflowed inside a metal cabinet, Taeseok dismantled and reassembled parts from radios and communication equipment left behind by the U.S. military.

He bought the military’s worn communication devices cheaply and rebuilt them into small radios and record players.

One thing Hanamura had said was correct. If you knew the language, it was easier to seize opportunities.

“You speak English well.”

“Thank you for saying that. I only know a few phrases.”

“Normally this item would never be sold at this price, but since it seems we’ll be working together for a long time, we’re offering it to you at a special price.”

Just as the girl once struggled while learning Joseon speech, Taeseok learned English.

Whenever he ran into a wall, he would think of Huijae beyond the stone wall.

Whenever he did, everything became bearable.

Everything felt possible.

With his nose bleeding, roughly plugged with a cloth, the young man kept turning the screwdriver as the sun rose brightly behind him.

Time passed, and passed again.

Gradually the office where Taeseok worked began to change.

The crude posters that had once been plastered across cracked and rusted walls were removed.

Now Taeseok worked in an office with smooth light-brown walls, a dark wooden desk, and a metal lamp placed on top.

The people who could afford record players now were high-ranking officials.

Those involved in state affairs.

Imported goods were too conspicuous, so they had to at least appear to favor domestic products.

Taeseok exploited that gap perfectly.

Once he climbed the ladder once, everything afterward was easy.

Taeseok began buying and selling coffee, canned goods, and cigarettes left behind by the U.S. military on the black market.

Unlike bulky record players, coffee, canned food, and cigarettes were perfect for hiding away and enjoying privately.

The wealthy sought Taeseok out without exception.

Whenever important guests came and went from their homes, the coffee that had passed through Taeseok’s hands was placed on the table.

They smoked cigarettes while drinking fragrant coffee poured into ornate teacups decorated with flowers.

In the warm atmosphere of households that seemed desperate to prove they were happy families, Taeseok was treated to several cups of coffee every day.

Drink, drink, and drink again.

Every time the bitter liquid slid down his throat, Taeseok had to suppress an inexplicable nausea.

In spaces where not a trace of war’s scars could be found, Taeseok slowly stirred the surface of the coffee with a teaspoon.

The wound on the back of his hand, injured while protecting the necklace containing Huijae’s photograph, still remained.

While Taeseok was being served warm coffee by the wealthy, Taejin pushed a glass of iced coffee toward someone else.

“You must have gone through a lot. I truly respect you.”

The man wearing an old checkered shirt and denim overalls was another Joseon man.

“Not at all. I’m simply proud of my father. If you live honestly according to what he taught you, don’t opportunities like this come naturally?”

The middle-aged man who drank the cold coffee burst into hearty laughter. His face was dark from the sun.

The first-generation Joseon immigrants who had moved to work on the sugarcane farms of Hawaii were still living in harsh conditions.

Those first-generation sugarcane laborers worked over sixteen hours a day.

It was truly a slave-like environment.

But now, a ray of light had finally entered their difficult lives.

Taejin had joined hands with second-generation Koreans who worked on sugarcane plantations in Louisiana.