Chapter 169

Lee Hyuk-soo’s firstborn, Lee Min-hyeok.

A character with as much prominence in the story as the protagonist, Lee Yoo-joo.

Naturally, they appeared together in many scenes.

“You, what have you done to Min-seo?”

Min-hyeok said to Yoo-joo, who was sitting alone in the quiet library, fidgeting.

“You should be quiet in the library.”

His voice was low.

But his gaze wasn’t directed at Min-hyeok.

Instead, it was fixed on the book she was reading.

Moreover, it wasn’t an academic textbook—it was a plain, everyday book unrelated to the class.

Just the fact that she had time to read such a thing seemed to underscore the difference between Min-hyeok and Yoo-joo.

Of course, that wasn’t necessarily true, but Min-hyeok couldn’t help but feel that way.

‘Yoo-joo must be capable of this.’

That was what Min-hyeok thought.

After all, most of Yoo-joo’s actions had a concealed purpose.

Provoking the other students on the first day of school.

Starting to share her portfolio with Min-seo.

Even setting conditions—right in front of him.

“Don’t tell your parents until the mock exam.”

What wasn’t she supposed to tell them?

It was obvious.

It was the portfolio of Yoo-joo’s brother—a prodigy who had entered the prestigious medical school at Baekyeon University with top honors. He had been sharing every detail of that brilliant life with Min-seo, someone he considered foolish.

‘Why didn’t you warn me about this?’

Even if Min-seo kept the secret from their parents, all Min-hyeok had to do was speak up.

Had she not considered that possibility?

No, maybe she assumed Min-seo would follow her words.

‘I know.’

Min-hyeok gritted his teeth.

Min-seo must know that there would be a watchdog to prevent her from telling the parents.

And that watchdog was none other than him.

If Min-seo was found out helping Yoo-joo, all the parents’ attention would shift to her.

Yoo-joo must have believed he wouldn’t just sit there and let that happen.

Yoo-joo knew Min-hyeok wouldn’t tell the parents, which is why she had spoken out in front of him with such confidence.

And with a wry smile.

“Stop ignoring me and tell me right now!! Yoo-joo!!”

“Cut! Cut! Cut!”

Suddenly, Min-hyeok—no, Kim Hyun-seok’s concentration was broken by the unexpected voice.

Turning his gaze, he saw director Kim Ilsu shaking his head.

“Hyun-seok, it’s too exaggerated.”

Saying that, Kim Ilsu approached Hyun-seok and continued.

“Let’s talk for a moment over here.”

Seeing the director call Hyun-seok personally, other younger actors nervously gulped.

The fact that Hyun-sek was pulled aside before continuing meant there was something notably unsatisfactory.

However, in this filming environment, such situations weren’t uncommon.

Whenever Yoo-joo—better known as Su-yeon—appeared in a scene, such interruptions frequently took place.

“Even though she didn’t have too many lines…”

Initially, some thoughts of mere luck surfaced.

Even after watching [The Chaser] and [Dream Future], similar ideas persisted.

It was a form of forced rationalization.

How could someone overlook such an obvious talent and chalk it up to luck?

Reality can be harsh.

Much like creation, the audience seldom notices differences unless they are striking.

But for the actor who works alongside them, the disparity becomes crystal clear.

Where I fail, the other succeeds.

Without stumbling over the lines and without fumbling emotions.

As soon as Min-hyeok began acting, Yoo-joo was simply there.

Not actress Joo Su-yeon, but Yoo-joo herself.

How could that be?

The moment that question arose, a doubt began to seep in.

Especially when the person in question was younger or of the same age, a natural sense of inferiority would bubble up.

People can’t help it.

It’s about how well one manages that feeling.

An issue related to one’s morality and character.

“Hyun-seok.”

“Ah.”

Staring quietly at Kim Ilsu, Hyun-seok stiffened his shoulders.

Although he’d been criticized several times before, being personally summoned like this was a first.

“You’re overdoing it.”

“Power? Overdoing it?”

“Acting often requires us to let go of some tension. Think about the emotional acting Seo-yeon does.”

Similar to the Method approach, the focus is on ‘naturalness.’

The aim is to naturally manifest actions and emotions by becoming the character oneself.

That alone draws applause from people.

“Of course, there are moments for exaggerated acting, but this scene is static.”

Emotional excessiveness.

In such static scenes, exaggerated emotions would naturally feel out of place to viewers.

“Your acting feels exaggerated.”

Kim Ilsu’s cold remark left Hyun-sek looking pale.

For someone who had only ever heard praises about his performances, this remark was terrifying.

“Wasn’t it different in your previous dramas?”

Muttering this question, Kim Ilsu sighed as he looked at Hyun-sek.

He had an inkling of the reason.

“Just look at the internet—there are so many comparison posts.”

The protagonist, Lee Yoo-joo—i.e., Su-yeon—was bound to dominate every scene she was in.

When two actors share a scene, the weaker one naturally stands out starkly.

This scene didn’t even seem to be one that would easily rile someone up.

But Kim Hyun-sek was clearly aware of Su-yeon’s presence.

It was evident in his performance.

“Do not look at the Internet—focus solely on your own acting. You’re doing great, Hyun-sek.”

With a pat on Hyun-sek’s shoulder, Kim Ilsu returned to the set first.

Hyun-sek understood what the director had meant: “Do not be tense, focus on your own performance.”

‘Can I really do that?’

Even if the director told him not to look, how could he avoid it?

It was brought up naturally by his surroundings.

Even those trying to be considerate mentioned it.

Avoiding the theme of his drama.

Even his parents, who would usually boast about his significant role, avoided the topic now.

Does it show that much?

Is he being criticized that much?

When such thoughts came up, it became impossible not to notice.

“…It’s cringeworthy.”

Hyun-sek sighed while wearing a self-derogatory smile.

Ultimately, his initial words upon meeting her had turned out to be meaningless.

Su-yeon was real, but in contrast, he was fake.

A talented actor.

That talent always dimmed under greater talent.

***

The atmosphere on the set was a bit uneasy.

Or rather, it had a slightly contradictory aspect.

On a broad scale, the mood on the set was quite good.

The veteran actors were clearly buoyed by the current performance of the drama.

“Seo-yeon, you’re still in high school, aren’t you? I envy you. Oh, man, I remember how much I was criticized when I was that age.”

“Look, I even made headlines—’Are Today’s Young Actors Really Good?'”

“Oh, yes, that one. I remember that.”

“Yes, that was with actor Yoon Jong-hyuk.”

“That’s right.”

Ironically, those very actors who were criticized back then are now among Korea’s top actors—what a funny twist.

And among this lively atmosphere, especially…

The matriarch of the Lee Hyuk-soo household.

Gil Soo-jin’s actress, Lee Mi-ran, nearly had honey dripping from her eyes every time she looked at Seo-yeon.

“Seo-yeon, you’re intimidating. I get more nervous when we have scenes together.”

“All thanks to your mentoring, senior.”

“Oh, modesty, modesty.”

Lee Mi-ran chuckled behind her hand, while Seo-yeon gave an awkward laugh.

‘Is this appropriate?’

The veteran actors’ performances were highly praised, and with the ratings doing well, it was only natural this was how they reacted.

Certainly, some were criticized.

Especially the villains or relatively weaker characters.

Yet, even in such situations, there was no overt gloom.

“Oh, I’m so lacking. Should I join a dramatic company and practice?”

“Theater acting and drama acting are different. However, I found that regional cable dramas helped a lot—it’s like the tension in your voice melts away.”

“Oh, I get what you’re saying.”

Such casual exchanges among the actors.

Seo-yeon, standing amidst all this, turned around to the side of the younger actors.

‘Hm, it feels darker here, doesn’t it?’

The initial vigor was nowhere to be found.

Many among this group were feeling down after the continuous criticism.

Of course, some were unbothered as well.

Like Park Se-jin who played Min-seo, for example.

And more notably, Han Sung-jin, Kim Hyun-seok’s close friend, who had the most dejected vibe.

Lastly, Cha Na-hee was there too.

“Actually, my role isn’t significant, so I’m fine.”

Cha Na-hee quietly murmured.

“And I know how you feel—people really trash-talked me.”

“…”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m blaming Seo-yeon!”

Cha Na-hee quickly waved her hands.

Anyway, Cha Na-hee currently didn’t appear much.

‘Since Song Ga-yeon hasn’t had much spotlight yet.’

Ga-yeon only had parts involving small interactions with Yoo-joo as a classmate thus far—a girl who didn’t understand portfolios but wanted to be friends with Yoo-joo.

That’s why Yoo-joo instinctively didn’t quite trust and guarded against Song Ga-yeon.

At least until Episode 4.

“Still, I think it’s a good thing.”

Cha Na-hee shrugged casually.

“It actually boosts motivation. I did, too.”

Is that so?

However, Cha Na-hee had a particularly strong sense of pride, and she was naturally the kind who would thrive under pressure.

Even as a member of “Summer Girls,” who weren’t exactly favored by the company, she still managed to lead the group successfully despite strained relationships with other members.

Of course, it was because she was the one who consistently refused to engage.

And yet, she was the most hardworking one.

Seeing this, Seo-yeon thought Cha Na-hee was quite amazing.

“Of course, that’s my case… but it’s still better than not worrying at all.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it means you’re truly passionate about this work.”

Passion.

Reflecting on Cha Na-hee’s words, Seo-yeon slowly nodded.

It did seem right.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

“Na-hee, sis.”

It was something she had recently overheard Sua mention.

“Was being an idol always your dream?”

“Hm?”

“Oh, never mind.”

Now that she said it out loud, it felt embarrassing to ask.

It felt awkward suddenly asking someone about their dreams.

“Yeah.”

Cha Na-hee, however, answered without hesitation.

“I’ve always wanted to be an idol. I work hard as an actress, but it’s better to do as much as you can.”

After all, idols eventually end up acting too.

Mainly for fan interaction and the character roles they present in variety shows, though acting can certainly help with that.

“That’s why I’ve recently become interested in something else~.”

As she spoke, Na-hee glanced at Seo-yeon.

Through their collaborations on [Sky Garden]’s OST, and her growing friendship with Hana Da-young, who was also a voice trainer.

“Hm, but that’s something for later.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. But why bring up dreams all of a sudden?”

“…Never mind.”

Na-hee found Seo-yeon’s attitude rather curious.

Why would she suddenly ask about dreams?

Then, she thought about Seo-yeon’s character, Yoo-joo.

“Yoo-joo is definitely a somewhat pitiable character.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course, the goals Yoo-joo currently aims for are ones she’s set herself. I think that’s admirable, but… I wonder if it’s truly what she wanted to do.”

What she truly wanted to do.

At these words, Seo-yeon tilted her head slightly, feeling oddly complex.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Ah, never mind.”

Seo-yeon shook her head.

It was a decision that only she herself could make, not someone else.

***

As the following week arrived.

Episodes 3 and 4 of Sky Garden were aired, maintaining a steady rise in ratings without decline, reaching a respectable 12%.

Though there was no dramatic surge like the first week, this was still commendable.

As a reference, [Grand Game] was cruising at an impressive 16%.

Despite no sign of further rise, it also showed no signs of dipping.

That said…

– Recently, the heroine’s role has increased quite a bit.

– Is it a romance?

– But the main target audience prefers that sort of thing, right?

– Even if romance is introduced, the story still feels stable so far.

Audience reactions were somewhat sharper than usual.

Not outright bad, but certainly not entirely positive either.

“Seoyeon, Su-yeon went to play with her friend today. She’ll be at the playground, so could you bring her back?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, our Seoyeon~!”

Raising a thumb with a bright smile, Su-a greeted her. Seoyeon gave a shy smile back.

Lately, Su-a seemed especially cheerful.

Specifically, since Seoyeon had started filming [Masked Singer].

Su-a wasn’t the type who usually watched variety shows religiously.

Only when Seoyeon appeared would she tune in without fail.

In the case of [Masked Singer], she’d been consistently watching even before.

‘Ever since the Ashen Crow character appeared?’

Seoyeon figured it started around that time.

After all, Ashen Crow could sing well.

Currently a top-tier talent nearing a legendary level.

‘…Could she win the semi-finals?’

Incidentally, Seoyeon was working hard on preparing a new song with Sun Girls and Maesa (the Wizard).

Since performing the Sun Girls’ songs was off the table, selecting the right piece was tricky from the start.

Then…

“Ah, this song is nice, what do you think?”

“Hm? Yes, it’s good, but it might be a bit difficult to sing?”

“Given this one at least doesn’t have too many high notes.”

Regrettably, Seoyeon’s vocal range wasn’t particularly high, so her strengths were more in emotive ballads.

Luckily, a song she once listened to from Lee Ji-yeon’s recommendation helped her find the right artist’s track to explore.

“Yeo-hee’s music is great. I can recommend this one to you.”

“Great, thank you.”

In this manner, Seoyeon decided to sing Yeo-hee’s music for the semi-final round.

“Sis!!”

Lost in thought, Seoyeon was approached by Su-yeon who was playing with sand and running back happily.

“You might fall if you run that much.”

“I’m fine! Su-yeon’s very tough!!”

Saying this while raising her arms enthusiastically.

‘…She is somewhat tough.’

Our Su-yeon, while not as extraordinarily strong as Seoyeon, was undoubtedly healthy and sturdy.

“Do you want to come along, Su-yeon? You were playing with a friend, right?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

As she was saying this and turned her head, a girl walking towards her caught her attention.

The girl froze upon laying her eyes on Seoyeon, wearing a look of great surprise.

And Seoyeon herself couldn’t help but stiffen at the sight.

After all, this was the girl from the fan meeting during the opening of [Dream Future].

The girl who had asked for her signature then.

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