Free Web Novel“Do you want to?”
“Very much.”
I looked at him with as much desperation as I could muster. 〈The Great Garland〉 was a child role, so the filming period would be short. And 〈Faster Than the Law 2〉, which came before that, was still a supporting role. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
‘Who am I?’
A woman starving for a lead role—Han Yeoreum. And on top of that, a sociopath? Completely different from anything I had done before. It was the kind of role any actress would covet at least once.
‘If Do Gyeoul snatches it first again....’
Then there’s no answer. Even now, Do Gyeoul was still called “Netflix’s woman.”
The yen tasted sweet. And the sweeter it was, the stronger Do Gyeoul’s position became. If she wanted to steal my role, she could.
“Then wait.”
“Ah!!! The one thing I hate hearing the most!!!”
Myeong Jeha told me to “wait” like he was commanding a puppy. It made me want to bite him out of irritation.
“Have you thought about sociopaths?”
I could describe one in a single word. Do Gyeoul. I know one very well....
“I have.”
“Then in 〈The Fuse〉, who would be the most suitable character to reinterpret as a sociopath?”
Myeong Jeha always threw me questions like this. Let me think. In 〈The Fuse〉, the most suitable character to become a sociopath would be....
“It depends on interpretation, but it’s not Jang Huibin—the role Do Gyeoul is playing. She changed because of humiliation from status differences. Early on, they even emphasize her pure affection.”
“Good. Next.” fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
“Queen Inhyeon could be interpreted that way. She opposes Jang Huibin. Noble by birth... her personality could align naturally with sociopathy.”
But from what I knew, Queen Inhyeon was also a victim.
Even if the era was built on class gaps, in the end she was still a woman. And the gender gap was even greater.
If Huibin was Sukjong’s toy, Queen Inhyeon was Sukjong’s tool.
“So Sukjong?”
“That’s boring.”
Myeong Jeha grinned. That was when I realized the answer.
“Choi?”
The bright, almost annoyingly innocent Choi.
She resembled Jang Huibin in her girlhood, yet accepted the gap in status as natural, making Huibin shine even more.
“Right. Choi.”
Now that I thought about it, she was the easiest to draw in this dynamic.
The most common stereotype. A woman beside an upper-class man for wealth and power.
Why had I never considered that the lowest woman might use the highest man?
‘Because Choi....’
The spotlight had always been on Queen Inhyeon and Jang Huibin. Angel and devil. Saint and villain. Characters of sharp contrast.
So Sukbin Choi never received the spotlight.
‘In most dramas and films, she’s either a supporting role or just Yeongjo’s mother.’
A pure, intelligent girl. A suppressed palace maid. A kind helper. A quiet, cautious concubine. A sacrificial mother.
Countless versions of Sukbin Choi flickered past my mind. There were so many works it wasn’t hard to recall them.
‘Yeongjo had obsessive-compulsive and paranoid tendencies. If that were maternal inheritance....’
Sociopath.
Antisocial personality disorder.
A person lacking social reciprocity.
Someone who understands the world only through interests. Gains and losses—nothing more. That was my sociopath.
“Why do you think sociopaths are often found in high corporate positions?”
After hearing Myeong Jeha talk about it, I had looked into sociopaths. One study suggested around 3–4% of corporate executives showed psychopathic or sociopathic traits.
Considering psychopaths make up about 1% of the general population, that was high.
Some even said CEO was the profession most commonly associated with sociopathic tendencies.
Because it requires risk tolerance, suppressed empathy, swift decision-making.
“Because....”
Myeong Jeha’s face was gentle, as if waiting for my answer.
“Because they think people ruled by emotion are stupid.”
They would eventually realize they were different.
Why cry because you’re happy? Why feel hurt over something trivial? Why say thank you when you’re not grateful?
If they repeatedly find themselves in abnormal emotional situations, they would think of ways to escape.
Because being in a subordinate position in relationships is what they hate most.
‘So they overestimate their own intelligence.’
People are animals swayed by emotion. If you believe you’re the only rational one, there’s no problem.
Crying because you’re happy? That’s your fault for failing to manage your expression at your age.
Feeling hurt? That’s your shameless expectation of me.
Expecting gratitude for unwanted kindness? That’s because you’re a low creature who needs a single word from me to validate yourself.
Even in romantic relationships, they don’t experience wide emotional ranges. They categorize everything as an “interest.”
‘Purpose matters more than sincerity.’
As I followed that thought, every sociopath I had analyzed under Myeong Jeha’s guidance turned into Choo Gaeul.
The shape of Sukbin Choi came into focus.
From Choi’s perspective, Sukjong had to reign forever. Only if he stayed on top could she enjoy wealth and power.
What she loved was not a man.
It was glittering gold. People bowing before her. Days so luxurious she could die satisfied.
Was her modesty just camouflage for that desire?
“Tell Choo Gaeul your analysis of Choi.”
“She probably has her own interpretation.”
“Still.”
“Ugh. It’s not even my role, sir.”
“Is that so...?”
Myeong Jeha murmured.
And when we arrived at the 〈The Fuse〉 set shortly after, I saw Choo Gaeul—face pale as paper.
“...You’re here?”
In contrast, Do Gyeoul was smiling brightly.
As if she was having the time of her life.
“Looks like there were a lot of NGs.”
Myeong Jeha whispered.
As if to confirm it, Choo Gaeul’s head remained lowered.
‘It’s her first shoot today....’
* * *
Click! Click! Click!
With the coffee truck, Han Yeoreum worked hard taking photos. It was her first time receiving one. She didn’t even have time to be moved by it—she felt too embarrassed in front of the staff.
“Gaeul! Thanks for the treat!”
Some easygoing staff members greeted her, but Gaeul couldn’t smile brightly.
‘What is this... how humiliating....’
She felt like she might die of embarrassment. She had spoken so boldly in front of Han Yeoreum, and now her first shoot was tangled.
She had practiced hard. Losing to Do Gyeoul at the script reading had wounded her pride.
‘It’s not even that many lines....’
The self-reproach of failing something this small drove her to rehearse again and again.
Without infringing on Jang Huibin or Queen Inhyeon, she tried to preserve Sukbin’s character.
‘The character description says she’s timid and bright for her age.’
Was she doing it as written?
Doubt kept surfacing. Doubt became certainty. And that certainty devoured Choo Gaeul.
“Cut. Let’s go again.”
Director Hwang was calm. He didn’t scold. That made it worse. The confusion was suffocating. She couldn’t grasp how to draw Sukbin Choi.
Cold sweat began to gather.
“Director! Coffee’s here—!”
The coffee truck arrived. Myeong Jeha approached and greeted him politely.
“Hello. It’s been a while.”
“Jeha, you got more handsome? How about your next project with me?”
“I’d be grateful if you called.”
Director Hwang had regretted that casting fell through because 〈The Fuse〉 overlapped with the beginning of 〈The Great Garland〉. He patted Myeong Jeha’s shoulder.
“Oh, Seoryeong.”
“Hello, Director! I’m Han Yeoreum.”
Director Hwang had enjoyed 〈Strange Tales〉. He had a soft spot for historical dramas.
“They called you three the golden generation of Han Arts, didn’t they? Or was it the generation of light? The reporters need to coordinate their wording! Looks good, all three of you together.”
When those words—usually thrown around casually ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) about Do Gyeoul, Myeong Jeha, and Han Yeoreum—came from Director Hwang, they carried weight.
And Choo Gaeul shrank further.
“Alright, I’ll enjoy the coffee. You friends talk. Jeha, see me once more before you leave, okay?”
Director Hwang waved lightly.
Myeong Jeha was asked for photos by staff.
Han Yeoreum was asked for autographs.
Choo Gaeul watched her friends—and felt herself shrink even smaller.
