Chapter 92

The day after the scandal broke, would a solo press conference feel like this?

“Did you really hear your heart beating when Yu Sung-jae held you?”

Haeun blinked in silence at the scene that was being similarly recreated before her eyes, one she had only seen in news reports on TV.

However, it was all a misunderstanding from start to finish.

These were merely scenes from a drama, and overly influenced by them would be detrimental, not only to Haeun but to Yu Sung-jae as well.

Therefore, after the five-minute limit set by Gong Hye-yeon had passed,

“Here, it was totally overlapping, right? You didn’t even touch at all in this scene?”

“The camera angle was vertical. The only thing that really touched was our fingers.”

“Risking your life?”

“Yeah. Risking my life.”

“If that’s the case, it means you really didn’t touch….”

Haeun continued to maintain her poker face to prevent any further misunderstandings. She was determined that rumors about Yu Sung-jae fainting due to her divine kissing skills wouldn’t spread.

“What do you mean Yu Sung-jae almost fainted on set?”

“A grasshopper crawled on his shoulder. He thought his heart stopped the moment he made eye contact with it.”

“Ah, I see.”

Until she answered the final question with pure 100% truth, she thought she handled it well.

When a friend asked for Haeun’s autograph—who was said to have desperately requested it from her friend’s cousin—she briefly had a face full of questions but, nonetheless, complied.

However, unlike the girls who crowded around Haeun in an extreme state of excitement at the class president Gong Hye-yeon’s first-come, first-served statement, the boys from Class 2, who were a little further away, still seemed apprehensive around her.

In particular,

“Do-yoon, you’re definitely being compared to Yu Sung-jae.”

“Should I just quit now?”

“Either way, you can’t find a replacement now. Just put your pride and everything else aside.”

“Wow… look at them casually saying that like it doesn’t concern them.”

“So, what can you even do? Other than getting outshined by Yu Sung-jae’s looks, what can you do?”

Joo Do-yoon, who played the male lead Kyle in [Falling Together], had an unusual expression.

It seemed he felt the burden of rising to the occasion as Haeun’s counterpart on stage.

The problem was that the last time Haeun conversed comfortably with boys her age was back in elementary school.

Since entering middle school, she hadn’t developed familiarity beyond recognizing names and faces and exchanging simple greetings.

Of course, she didn’t distance herself from them on purpose from the start.

It was just that misunderstandings arose from her trying to get close, as more and more boys mistook her friendliness for romantic interest, causing an inevitable distance.

“I wish they would at least handle their gazes properly.”

Either way, what was important was that practice for [Falling Together] was proceeding normally.

It seemed unacceptable for awkward situations where Haeun couldn’t even make eye contact to linger for too long.

Perhaps that’s why.

“Hey, Hye-yeon.”

“?”

“Can I use this crow mask here?”

One crow mask, sitting alone in a corner of a large prop box, kept catching Haeun’s eye.

She thought that if she covered her face with a mask, at least they could meet gazes without much difficulty.

When she conveyed this idea to Gong Hye-yeon, an okay sign came a little later.

Of course, she still needed to check the expression acting as the Empress Aria.

However, Gong Hye-yeon concluded it would be more important to pay attention to her friends’ acting rather than Haeun, who was already a seasoned veteran actress.

So, ultimately, practice began with Haeun’s upper face obscured by the crow mask.

Soon, a song degrading the Empress Aria echoed throughout the auditorium, sung by her friends playing the commoners.

“Hm….”

To be frank, it wasn’t a perfect performance.

If Lee Jun or Lee Geon-yeol had been there, they would have been told to do it all over again right from the start.

Yet, since it was the first practice,

Haeun decided to focus more on gauging her friends’ skill levels rather than the quality of the song.

However,

“It’s just a song. It’s only voices filled with lies, so don’t pay attention.”

When she first synchronized with Joo Do-yoon, who was playing Kyle,

“Okay, we’ll start at the original speed first. From the second practice, we’ll go at a slower pace!”

Just like when Haeun first attended Kim Gyu-tae’s action school and began testing at the highest difficulty level,

now, Haeun also wanted to test Joo Do-yoon’s capability with a slightly harder performance.

She needed to see how far the current Joo Do-yoon could match her.

“No, what they feel is genuine.”

To be precise, it wasn’t the highest level of emotion Haeun could portray.

It was an act she adjusted so it wouldn’t look too exaggerated.

“They believe that I am the source of all misfortune. And until the very last moment of their breath, they… will truly hate me.”

Since Haeun’s upper face was covered by the mask, all Joo Do-yoon could see was her lips curving into a bitter smile.

Even so, his gaze appeared slightly shaken, trembling precariously for a brief moment.

Though they were facing each other directly, it felt like he was looking elsewhere.

Once the mournful tone of the song reached his ears, Haeun found she couldn’t even recall the first letter of her next line despite having memorized it.

“Ah, um… sorry. Let’s take a break for a moment.”

Ultimately, practice had to be paused.

After a brief confirmation of the lines, it resumed and fortunately, there were no noticeable mistakes in the lines this time.

The request for overall feedback from Gong Hye-yeon came just after they wrapped up Act 1 practice.

“Veterans who are both actors and singers will see it a bit differently. Just say it simply.”

“Um….”

Thus, after glancing over the faces of her friends who were sitting and resting,

Haeun asked what kind of feedback they wanted.

“What would you rate the intensity on a scale from 1 to 10? What’s acceptable?”

“I’d prefer to say 10, but if we start too harshly, it could be tough, so maybe around a 6.”

“Got it.”

Up until then, Gong Hye-yeon thought she’d only have to point out genuinely harsh mistakes.

After all, Haeun usually had a calm and good-natured image, unable to say anything bad.

This thought of Gong Hye-yeon aligned with the feedback on the performances of other friends.

Gentle feedback was given only to friends who made overly exaggerated expressions or, conversely, provided no expressions at all.

However, when feedback began regarding singing, which is a crucial element in musicals,

“Honestly, it sounds like you’re straining rather than hitting the high notes.”

Gong Hye-yeon’s criticisms swiftly exceeded her originally intended level, becoming sharp and cruel.

Even though Haeun was still wearing the crow mask, the intense gaze felt like it was hitting her directly.

This harsh feedback stemmed entirely from the feedback Haeun had previously received from Lee Jun and Lee Geon-yeol.

To be precise, it was feedback intended to be at a level 6 rather than the maximum of 10, thus Haeun had adjusted her criticisms accordingly.

However, to her other friends who didn’t know how Daulby gave feedback, Haeun’s critiques felt like an outright condemnation.

It also felt heavier because the costume she wore was that of the noble Empress Aria.

There was no room for compromise in any aspect, no matter how trivial.

Just a while ago, the youthful image of Yeom Wol, who had been in love with Haeun, had somehow completely vanished.

“Wow, was she always… like this?”

It was startling.

It was entirely factual, and there was no counterargument whatsoever.

Thus, her mentality got thoroughly shaken until there was nothing left to be stripped away.

Since Gong Hye-yeon somewhat considered herself to be good at singing, the shock felt particularly profound.

As time flowed until the auditorium rental time ended, the shock didn’t fade away.

At least during dinner with everyone, because there wasn’t any substantial feedback about singing, she thought she might relieve some worry, but then,

“Carbonated drinks are bad for your throat. Drink water.”

Somehow, for reasons unknown, Gong Hye-yeon began giving feedback about her and the other friends’ drink preferences.

As a result, Haeun’s nickname was updated to ‘the nagging queen’ from that day on.

***

By the time practices for [Falling Together] had progressed about three or four times in a considerably different manner than Haeun had thought,

“Excuse me? You want me to observe the child actor audition for [The Sunshine]?”

“Really, it’s just a suggestion to observe if you’d like. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

She received unexpected news about the child actor auditions for the drama [The Sunshine], which was slowly nearing the casting completion stage.

To be more precise, it meant that Baek Tae-hoon, who played the male lead Park Ju-ho in [The Sunshine], had called Haeun, as conveyed by Ju Jung-yun.

In strict terms, it didn’t matter much whether she went or not.

It was a light suggestion that if Haeun’s schedule permitted, visiting wouldn’t be a bad idea.

However,

“I think it would be nice if Haeun went to cheer on the kids you’ve been helping.”

Recalling the children she had helped upon request from Jung Do-cheol for the auditions,

Haeun felt an urge to support the cute kids who had ceremoniously bowed and said, “Nice to meet you, I’m Lee Ha-eun,”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Baek Tae-ho.”

Finally, she headed to the audition hall and met Baek Tae-ho, who was already there.

She then had a brief handshake.

Since it was her first time directly meeting Baek Tae-ho, it felt awkward in various ways.

However, she needed to bridge the distance with Baek Tae-ho for the filming of [The Sunshine], which would officially start in a few weeks.

“Uh, I really liked [The Informers]. Your acting was amazing.”

She attempted to break the ice by referencing the recently released movie [The Informers], in which Baek Tae-ho appeared.

And hardly had a few seconds passed when Baek Tae-ho replied,

“That’s a movie rated for adults.”

“Ah.”

Haeun, momentarily forgetting, was reminded of this fact and realized her ice-breaking attempt had flopped miserably.

She began to sweat coldly almost instantaneously.

“So, um, it’s not like I watched it in the theater. There’s a 40-minute summary on YouTube.”

She felt more embarrassed than ever.

Despite having seen it as an adult, she just couldn’t admit to having watched it as such.

After piling excuse upon excuse, Baek Tae-ho’s expression only grew more puzzled.

It was as if he were thinking, “What on earth is she talking about?” Haeun felt certain that her first impression was completely ruined.

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