I'm an Unknown Actress, But Everyone Knows Me

“Haahhh....”

Because she had to revise the script in a hurry, Ma Eungyo had stopped visiting the set and shut herself inside her hotel room.

Thanks to Jo Eunnara, who visually suited the role even better than Kim Jisang, changing the scenes involving the second male lead had been easier than expected.

Matteo, the ICC agent who relied on his body.

Im Ria, the Interpol agent who relied solely on her brain.

And Park Taegyeong, who stood somewhere between them and clashed with both.

Ma Eungyo herself wasn’t entirely sure yet, but the staff and even Galdaeguk had gone wild over the trio.

“So I don’t need to doubt that I wrote it well....”

She replayed the copied footage from today’s shoot over and over again.

All three actors were delivering performances worthy of her script.

But they were only acting the versions she had originally envisioned.

The exact characters she could easily imagine and draw in her mind.

“So why...?”

Yet fixing the first day’s scene was proving far more difficult than revising the existing script.

She couldn’t find the answer.

“Why exactly...?”

Ma Eungyo stared at Im Ria, tears dripping down her cheeks.

“She’s my child.”

A writer became the god of the world they created.

That truth had always been absolute.

And now, Ma Eungyo was experiencing something for the first time—

Something that refused to obey her will.

* * *

Jo Eunnara wore an uninterested expression, yet nobody took acting more seriously than she did.

‘Honestly, replacing Kim Jisang with Jo Eunnara was practically a divine move....’

She generated more buzz.

She acted better.

She finished all her scenes without NGs or delays.

The constant praise seemed to be working.

And more importantly—

“What are you talking about?”

Every time Han Yohan and I were together, Jo Eunnara suddenly inserted herself into the conversation.

I almost wanted to cry.

‘Right. I know exactly how that feels....’

That anxiety when there wasn’t a place for you on set.

That awkward feeling of being the only outsider.

The way she awkwardly approached us to overcome it reminded me of my past self.

Really, what a good kid.

“We were talking about clouds.”

“...Clouds?”

“The ones floating over there are stratocumulus clouds... they form when fog rises away from the ground... and in Korea, they usually appear before rain.... Whenever those clouds appear... dogs sleep longer or lose energy.”

For a moment, Jo Eunnara seemed unable to answer Han Yohan’s explanation.

She should have been used to his random boring lectures by now.

‘Though if you’re always watching other people’s reactions, it’s hard....’

Whenever we did our One Therapy sessions, Jo Eunnara kept glancing between Han Yohan and me.

She thought she was being subtle, but it was obvious.

‘She still seems awkward around us....’

Probably because she was an introvert.

Considering she’d grown up alongside Eun Baekhap, it wasn’t strange that she seemed so timid.

“Come to think of it, you’re heading back to Korea soon....”

Han Yohan asked me.

I had originally planned to briefly return for the MBS awards before flying back to Russia, but thanks to Han Yohan throwing away all his schedules without hesitation, my scenes had been moved up.

Once I returned to Korea, the MBS awards and the promotional schedule for 〈Seoul Metropolitan City〉 would begin.

“Yeah. Not many days left.”

“Time really flies....”

“But before that, we still need to reshoot that first scene.”

It kept bothering me throughout filming.

I still didn’t know what was lacking.

‘The remaining scenes are all emotional explosions....’

As filming progressed, I realized it unconsciously.

Or rather—

I couldn’t help but realize it.

‘If I can’t figure out what’s missing in that scene, it’ll drag the remaining scenes down with it.’

I didn’t want this to end with people simply saying I was good.

I’d finally become an actor people trusted.

I wanted to repay that faith properly.

Eun Baekhap from 〈The Great Garland〉 came to mind.

Her performance that carried the remaining episodes.

Her overwhelming control that had made the entire nation cry.

‘...I want to show that too.’

I wanted to become A-rank.

No—

I wanted to go even higher.

I wanted to prove that everyone who said I’d open the door to a generational shift had been right.

‘I want to bring the emotions from the kiss scene into the other scenes....’

What was it?

Absentmindedly staring at the stratocumulus clouds Han Yohan had taught me about, I sank into thought.

Blind devotion.

Im Ria’s life.

The two endlessly clashed inside me.

Then I felt something bump against my foot.

“Huh?”

A little ball.

Without thinking, I picked it up.

Far away, a small child was running after it.

With tiny feet, the child ran surprisingly fast.

They looked no older than three or four.

“Is this yours?”

Since I didn’t know Russian, I simply spoke.

The child didn’t understand either, but nodded after seeing the ball in my hand.

“Here.”

But instead of taking it, the child looked around.

The filming set seemed fascinating.

“Oh? A little kid?”

The nearby staff stared curiously.

As the child peered into the camera lens, Han Yohan muttered,

“But I don’t see the parents....”

The moment he finished speaking, the child started sniffling.

It seemed they had suddenly realized their parents weren’t around.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“Wait. Where did this kid come from?”

Just moments ago, the child had been happily pressing their face against the camera lens.

Now they looked around with tightly shut lips.

As though the greatest hardship of their three-year life had arrived.

Han Yohan walked over and lifted the child up.

“Hnnng....”

He patted the child’s back gently.

I approached and put the ball into their hand.

The child still looked anxious.

“They look like they’re about to cry, but they aren’t. Is it because you’re holding them?”

“No... because their mom isn’t here right now....”

“Huh? Why?”

“Children don’t like crying when their guardian isn’t around....”

What did that have to do with anything?

Didn’t children usually have trouble holding back tears and laughter?

I was trying to remember the children I’d met during my part-time jobs when—

“Ah, someone’s coming....”

Just as Han Yohan said, someone was frantically searching while turning their head in every direction.

Probably the child’s mother.

Han Yohan showed the mother to the child, who had buried their face against his shoulder.

“Waaahhh—!”

Immediately, the child burst into loud sobs.

I looked toward the running mother.

Once in her arms, the child cried even harder.

As though scolding her—

Why did you only come now?

‘Ah....’

At the same time, the scenes I had to film flashed through my mind.

The moments Im Ria had to cry.

The moments she had to desperately search for Matteo.

Feelings I almost understood.

And yet didn’t.

* * *

Click!

Hong Suryeon had come for the final fitting of her award ceremony dress, but she was still taking pictures.

“Again! It didn’t even capture half of my beauty! Take it again!”

“But Suryeon, modern science can’t accomplish something like that. You know that too. Let’s stop, okay?”

“Hnggg....”

“See? Looking with your own eyes is still the most accurate.”

“I’m beautiful....”

Hong Suryeon gazed at herself in the mirror her manager held and admired herself.

Then she took another selfie.

“It only captured one ten-billionth of my beauty... but what can you do!”

And once again, she sent it to Han Yeoreum.

There hadn’t been any replies, perhaps because she had been rendered speechless by her beauty.

Surely she had fainted from joy every night.

“Suryeon, I told you to stop sending them. She’s filming overseas.”

“That’s exactly why I should send more! She must be exhausted! She has to look at my pictures and gain strength!”

“Ha... Suryeon looks much prettier in person anyway. Just tell her to see you when she comes back....”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Finally, Han Yeoreum called.

“See? She misses me so much she can’t stand it! Unni knows nothing!”

—Me?

“That’s right. Now write ten pages of impressions about the photo I sent. That’s a reasonable amount!”

There was silence.

Probably because I was too beautiful for words.

—Unni.

“Unni!”

—Yes, unni. Actually, I called because I wanted to ask something.

“What? But don’t ask about the secret to my beauty. I was born this way....”

—Last time, you taught me what love is.

My voice lacked confidence.

—You said love means believing you’ll stay together forever. Blind love. But... circumstances make that impossible. How can you love like that?

“You don’t understand that?”

—No. The probability of them not leaving me is too low. I should believe they won’t leave me no matter what, but... they could die.

“And?”

—I’m suspicious by nature. And smarter than average. So naturally, I can’t blindly trust. I understand that love means not being myself anymore, but...

Apparently, this love differed from the one Hong Suryeon had taught me before.

She listened quietly.

—I don’t know how to express that emotion.

“Then why ask now? You didn’t know from the moment you got the script, right?”

She {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} pierced straight to the heart of the question.

I stammered.

—...I thought I’d understand eventually if I waited....

The waves of love she had spoken of.

They had consumed me so completely that I’d stopped seeing everything else.

“It’s simple.”

Hong Suryeon immediately answered.

“Blind love is the same thing as children getting lost. What child thinks their mother won’t come looking for them?”

—...

“Sure, when they’re really scared, they might think, ‘What if Mom can’t find me?’ If they’re at a crowded amusement park or the beach, they’ll feel anxious. But!”

Not doubting.

“They’ll desperately believe Mom will come find them. Because Mom loves them. That’s blind devotion.”

A baseless certainty that maintained the shape of innocence.

An expectation that literally blinded reason.

“Forget probabilities and logic. Blind devotion is selfish. You do it because you want to. You want to trust and lean on someone so much that it overwhelms reason. Just approach it with the heart of a child.”

No matter what happened—

The belief that the one person I trusted would always pull me back into orbit.

Hong Suryeon heard trembling breaths from the other side.

It seemed I had finally begun to understand.

* * *

Now, I finally understood.

‘So that’s it.’

Why seeing the child burst into tears upon seeing their mother had felt familiar.

Why I’d unconsciously thought I’d finally found the answer.

‘It was because I’d never blindly trusted anyone before.’

An environment where love wasn’t allowed.

Conditions where trust shouldn’t exist.

Yet emotions that broke through all of it.

“So... blind devotion is basically a form of being spoiled.”

But I want to do this.

So you’ll indulge me, right?

You’ll be someone I can trust, right?

Im Ria, who grew up loved.

Im Ria, who was intelligent.

Im Ria, who was honest with her feelings and leaned on religion.

When someone like her fell in love, she didn’t have to turn it into a moment where she stopped being herself from beginning to end.

As if I had finally reached the correct answer, Hong Suryeon replied,

—That’s right. Exactly. Being spoiled.