Chapter 101

Honestly, Seoyeon found portraying Joo Ha-rin to be an ill-fitting act.

It was about portraying a lively, bubbly character.

A girl harboring a secret infatuation.

And a naive, shy young character grappling with foreign emotions of love.

Seoyeon perhaps inwardly believed such a role wasn’t suitable for her.

She gave her all, yet there was probably an internal seed of doubt.

Indeed, she herself had entertained such thoughts at times.

“But.”

Seoyeon closed her eyes, bringing the script to mind.

The revised content.

And the modified lines.

Naturally, the emotional progression she had prepared for the act accordingly shifted.

Writer Min Se-hee had tried her best to incorporate Seoyeon’s suggestions into the script as much as possible—keeping things as neutral as she could. It seemed like Park Jung-woo had requested some additional changes.

“Perhaps I wasn’t fully ready.”

That was likely what Park Jung-woo had said. It wasn’t an inaccurate assessment. In Park Jung-woo’s eyes, Seoyeon wasn’t yet fully prepared to take on such a complex role.

Thus, the script was adjusted according to these insights. But was that all there was to it?

If that were the case, the actor’s opinions wouldn’t have been sought, would they?

“Don’t worry too much about the mismatch in the character’s tone.”

Seoyeon could sense Ma Yeon-woo’s gaze upon her—questioning whether she was truly ready.

Of course, no matter how much Ma Yeon-woo’s character “Park Min-yul” might match her style, they couldn’t possibly align completely.

“I’ve been the senior actress here, haven’t I?”

“Hmm, well, that doesn’t matter much anyway.”

Ma Yeon-woo smirked at the strangely different Seoyeon, finding this version oddly easier to deal with compared to her usual demeanor.

‘Capturing the emotion.’

This was a common phrase among actors preparing before a shoot. Yet, ever since filming *”Dream Future,”* Ma Yeon-woo hadn’t once seen Seoyeon delve into the emotion in this way.

The sudden change in expression and emotion during such short sequences revealed a powerful presence, one Ma Yeon-woo couldn’t overlook. And she was aware of how much thought Cha Na-hee, who played Song So-ha, had poured into her role.

‘So this is what “capturing the emotion” truly means.’

Seoyeon’s gaze, fixed on the set, shimmered with a hint of crimson—a truly intense color.

The former idol trainees she’d once worked with bore this same look in their eyes. The memory resurfaced unexpectedly. Through the current actor, she could almost picture those bright-eyed trainees from the past.

Such purity.

Such passion.

The vividness was unmistakable to Ma Yeon-woo.

“Please act like an idol as much as you can.”

Seoyeon’s expression softened with a smile—not her usual self but a different visage. Probably that of Joo Ha-rin.

Without even a trace of Cha Seo-a, she embodied a bright, cheerful idol.

“Can you do it?”

Seoyeon’s raised fist exuded determination. No, it was more like pure cheerfulness.

This feeling was oddly familiar.

“Ah, *[Unmanned Survival]*.”

She remembered seeing Seoyeon on a certain variety show while her fellow trainees watched in the dorms. That’s where she’d noticed this side of her before.

“Of course.”

Park Min-yul and Ma Yeon-woo were different. While Park Min-yul auditioned as a trainee, Ma Yeon-woo was a member of **Just X**. Though possibly a novice in acting, her roots in idol stardom still held weight.

“I’m Ma Yeon-woo.”

Top Idol.

From the start, she had been in a different league compared to Park Min-yul, a trainee.

***

**RY Entertainment**, the management agency for **Just X**, counted among the top three largest management firms in South Korea.

“Ma Yeon-woo’s appearance in *[Dream Future]* was a mistake.”

Manager Lee Hwi-rok of the actor management department voiced his opinion strongly. It had already felt as though Ma Yeon-woo’s image had taken a hit since the show began.

“Didn’t we at least get some laughs out of her bad acting?”

“Song Director, are you being serious?”

Lee Hwi-rok sighed deeply.

“Do you know how much I’m getting battered from the idol management department over this? They say her image is completely ruined.”

“…Did we expect *[Dream Future]* to turn out this bad?”

“Still, the ratings are doing decently so far, at least.”

“Decently,” meaning neither great nor terrible.

Admittedly, compared to its promising start, the ratings weren’t pulling as much weight, but given the theme, the performance was commendable.

‘The screenwriter worked hard.’

When this project was initially pitched, the screenwriter must have faced considerable pressure. Emotional content was dated, and the genre of youth dramas was growing less appealing to the mass audience.

*[Dream Future]* was a KMB Broadcasting Company original, not an independently written drama. Of course, this constrained the writer’s creative freedom, making the storyline doubly difficult to craft.

Thus, the writer decided to keep things light and funny. Even if it might provoke some laughter, it allowed the live singing scenes to gain genuine attention.

By maintaining this balance, ensuring the light-hearted moments stayed light, the story still managed to keep its charm, despite some inconsistencies along the way.

‘However, separate from the overall production, Ma Yeon-woo’s acting remains lackluster.’

The problem lay in the comparison; Ma Yeon-woo looked amateurish simply due to Park Jung-woo’s superior acting skills.

Additionally, Ju Seo-yeon caused issues with their short but impactful role—an overlooked talent signed under RY Entertainment.

‘Perhaps not so much a rookie after all, considering they started as a child actor from a young age.’

‘This is indeed unfortunate.’

Even in brief appearances, Ju Seo-yeon created a significant presence. Since watching *[The Chaser]*, Lee Hwi-rok had come to lament this even more deeply.

‘Limiting her to villain roles may indicate a narrow acting spectrum.’

From the moment they met, her image seemed to suggest a lack of versatility…until the live scene of Joo Ha-rin from the first episode of *[Dream Future]* came to mind. If she could replicate that level of performance…

“Song Director.”

“Yes?”

“Isn’t the 7th episode of *[Dream Future]* airing today?”

“Ah, it’s probably just starting.”

Following the indication, Song Director turned on the large TV in the office.

‘Is he incapable of doing it himself?’

Though muttering under his breath, Song Director, checking the boss’s subtle hint, hastily switched to the 7th episode of *[Dream Future]*. The drama had just begun.

“Did the department head actually watch *[Dream Future]*?”

“Of course, didn’t you?”

“Sure, I did.”

Untrue. He turned it off after episode 2 because it felt nauseating.

However, it was clear that Lee Hwi-rok had indeed watched the entire series, criticizing Ma Yeon-woo’s performance while diligently checking on their own talent appearing in the show.

‘This episode features Ma Yeon-woo and Ju Se-yeon as the main figures.’

He had heard the script was revised. While they assured that attention would be given, the balance had shifted in a way that wasn’t necessarily beneficial for Ma Yeon-woo.

‘Then again, it might be time for her to slowly phase out.’

With the complaints about her poor acting lingering, reducing her role might actually work in their favor.

While contemplating this, Lee Hwi-rok’s eyes were glued to the screen.

“Open up the live chat on the laptop as well. This is also streamed online, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course!”

An active Song Director moved to his seat beside the laptop, allowing Lee Hwi-rok to keep an eye on the live chat.

“Today’s the audition scene… ugh…”

“Please, no cheesy moments.”

“Still, the song’s good. Cheers to that.”

The chat started rolling with such comments.

‘Interest hasn’t waned.’

Which meant *[Dream Future]* had a stable viewership.

‘Her screen time has increased.’

The episode opened with Joo Ha-rin’s perspective. The spotlight focused on her, while Park Min-yul gradually revealed his feelings for her amidst their budding relationship.

Having decided to lay aside her feelings for Kim Si-hwan due to his interest in Song So-ha, Joo Ha-rin found herself confused.

“Uh… now there’s an audition…”

Joo Ha-rin muttered anxiously upon realizing her feelings for Kim Si-hwan couldn’t simply vanish.

“Haa…”

At this moment, a viewer chat popped up.

“Hang on—”

“Is this supposed to be a psychological thriller?”

“Why does Park Min-yul look so doomed?”

“Show us his bare hands at least.”

With recent references to *[The Chaser]*, such comments frequently appeared, linking Joo Ha-rin’s character with Cha Seo-a.

This also underscored how powerful an impression Seoyeon had left on the audience.

“…”

In her own thoughts, Joo Ha-rin deliberates about Park Min-yul’s feelings. With the upcoming survival audition, one of them has to be cut.

Thus, Park Min-yul doesn’t explicitly confess but lets Joo Ha-rin know by chance.

She feels confused but realizes that time won’t wait for her.

It is the final audition for the Top Ten selection, and they must perform a duet.

An upbeat idol pop song symbolizing love had been chosen for this final mission by Ha-rin herself.

Respecting her choice, though slightly difficult for him, Park Min-yul agreed to use it.

“Is there anything you both want to say before the performance?”

Before the stage begins, the judge asks.

Joo Ha-rin hesitates, but…

“I’m aiming to win the Top Ten with all my effort.”

Park Min-yul responds first, looking into the microphone and nodding toward Ha-rin.

This wasn’t just a statement but also his signal to her—a way of telling her not to hesitate on stage.

“I’m aiming for the Top Ten as well.”

Ha-rin replies, taking the microphone confidently and smiling at Park Min-yul.

She smiles back warmly, and the judges and audience appreciate the interaction.

The spotlights come on, and the music plays—the bright idol pop melody.

Park Min-yul steps forward first.

“Yeon-woo, seriously.”

“Why is it always him who steps first?”

“Because he’s a current idol, right?”

“Stop pushing **Just X**, the bubblegum idol group.”

Familiar criticisms emerged as the chat comments filled the screen when Ma Yeon-woo—no, Park Min-yul—stepped forward. Anti-fans and general detractors joined in condemning her supposed lackluster acting.

However, the camera pans to a confident-looking Park Min-yul striding confidently onto the stage.

“Huh?”

An unfamiliar aura—powerful and commanding—emanated from Park Min-yul, drawing all the spotlights instantly.

The judges’ expressions alternated, and a vibrant voice filled the air. He stepped rhythmically, dancing confidently.

It wasn’t a matter of debate.

Top Idol. **Just X**, despite some controversies, stood as among the top K-POP acts representing South Korea overseas, bridging that gap. Ma Yeon-woo was not only a talented vocalist within the group but a seasoned member too.

Witnessing this, Lee Hwi-rok couldn’t turn his eyes away.

Not just acting…

‘This is Ma Yeon-woo.’

Everyone watching must have been stunned by her brilliant performance, but soon they’d realize that the person on stage was not Park Min-yul but Ma Yeon-woo herself.

While some fans might be satisfied, the drama division manager’s narrowed eyes indicated this wasn’t entirely pleasing.

Isn’t this just an idol performance, not an actor’s acting?

A sensible choice, yet not entirely fulfilling.

Then…

The camera shifted to show Seoyeon extending her hand toward Ma Yeon-woo.

Joo Ha-rin.

The upbeat countryside girl, bright and vivacious. She stepped forward with a radiant smile, harmonizing with Ma Yeon-woo’s performance.

Her technique may have been lacking, but she wasn’t an established singer.

Yet, her voice conveyed clear and authentic emotion.

The spotlight, which had been on Ma Yeon-woo, redirected naturally to chase Seoyeon’s performance.

At the same time, her dance was as good as Ma Yeon-woo’s. Her face filled the screen, brimming with heartfelt expression.

Her youthful energy filled the screen, spreading like a wave. Seoyeon, through her singing, naturally guided the audience’s focus toward her.

It was a touching and lovable performance that naturally left viewers breathless.

Ma Yeon-woo complemented this act. While her acting skills were limited, Seoyeon skillfully filled the gaps.

On the other hand, lacking the idol performance expertise, Seoyeon relied on Ma Yeon-woo to make the moment sparkle naturally.

The synergy created something resembling a top-tier idol performance that transcended into acting magic.

Mesmerizing.

The chat slowed significantly—a clear sign that more people were focused on the drama.

But neither Song Director nor Lee Hwi-rok noticed. Their eyes were glued to the screen.

“Regretful.”

For the first time, the CEO of RY Entertainment, Lee Hwi-rok, thought to himself.

“She had to be secured.”

Ju Seo-yeon.

A child actor making a comeback after a decade.

Her acting ability wasn’t proven yet—or so thought.

Just a trendy figure whose sudden rise in attention seemed fleeting.

A misunderstanding. A foolish judgment. A grave mistake.

Such thoughts swirled in Lee Hwi-rok’s mind as the regret deepened.

“Thank you! Thank you for your support!”

Thus began the dramatic comeback of *[Dream Future]*.

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