Free Web Novel“Let’s be honest, we were pathetic, and yeah, we tried to pull rank. But in the end, thanks to this Han Yeoreum’s genius ad-lib, we pulled off a perfect stage, so just remember that.... Ah, what am I even saying. Anyway, let’s call it here. Done.”
I poured soju into my empty glass. Filled it myself and knocked it back in one go. The alcohol tasted sweet tonight.
“How do you act like that?”
Tak Jeongyun asked again.
As always, the conversation drifted back to acting.
“Right. What do you think of me?”
“What about me makes you want to stand on stage together?”
“How do you do your projection? You know that quiet scene? Even when you spoke softly, your diction didn’t blur and your volume didn’t drop.”
The cheap frozen pork belly place was thick with smoke from the grill. The tables were sticky. The menu board on the wall was worn and faded. The tables were crammed so close together you could hear every word from the next table.
Let’s succeed.
Throw away this damn “real actor” syndrome and succeed as fast as possible so I never have to come to a place like this again.
That was what I’d sworn the moment I regressed.
And yet—looking around—it felt unbearably nostalgic.
“Tak sunbae, you’re good at everything. You really are—!”
We clinked glasses for a long time like that. It was a night where I felt relief that this new life was real—and at the same time, the comfort of having returned.
I wanted to build the Han Yeoreum fam quickly. Surround myself with famous, powerful people so no one could touch me. That seemed like the safest plan.
But the more I calculated like that, the more I thought of these people.
Back when I had absolutely nothing. When nobody knew my name. When I was so exhausted I couldn’t even speak. They were the only ones who had recognized me.
In this frozen pork belly place where I had cried countless times over endless drinks, I wasn’t crying anymore.
“Hey! Han Yeoreum! From now on. Hoo.... you’re, you’re our little sister! Got it?!”
“Got it. Unni, unni, get up.”
“Got it, didn’t get it!”
“Let’s go home. Let’s go home!”
...Actually, I do kind of want to cry.
I dragged four people home in the late dawn hours—and ran straight into a Han Taeyang wearing an expression I had never seen in my life.
“Hey.”
“...”
“What time do you think it is right now?”
* * *
Myeong Jeha opened So Yesol’s script.
It was the one Han Yeoreum had received not long ago.
“Never seen this before.”
The script had no title written on it. Even the character names were unfamiliar. For Myeong Jeha, it was a rare taste of something entirely new.
A work that had never existed in his previous life.
That meant Han Yeoreum’s influence on this world had grown to that extent.
Na Yuna (23)
“I thought once I got into college, everything would work out.”
After three attempts at the college entrance exam, she had finally entered a prestigious university. She thought the breathless sprint of her life would end there. She imagined that once she crossed the finish line, fanfare would explode around her.
But stepping into a bigger world only made her painfully aware of her own smallness. As a second first-year, her life was dry and rough.
Technically a freshman, yet not one. As an older student, she couldn’t enjoy the romance of campus life. No matter where she tried to fit in, she floated awkwardly.
The freshman outfit she had longed to wear was already out of fashion. The anonymous bamboo forest page where students used to tag each other had turned into a completely anonymous app.
It was strange. Everyone said twenty-three was young. Said it was youth.
But Yuna’s world was gray.
Living like a sixth-year high schooler trapped in freshman life, the hardest thing was her inferiority complex. Watching Heejeong, glowing pink, and Yungyo, wrapped in gold, she felt emotions she never admitted.
Jeong Heejeong (23)
“I don’t need anything else. I just want to get married. Not date. Married.”
Her name was the problem from the start. “Jeong” appeared twice in it—so she kept getting entangled in attachments. Having a lot of affection meant she kept expecting things. Meant she kept getting disappointed. Meant she kept searching for someone to share something with.
Anyway, it was all because of “jeong.”
All-girls middle school. All-girls high school. In a society made entirely of girls, Heejeong made a firm vow: once she got to college, she would date.
True to her word, she began dating as soon as she entered. Once with a cool returning student senior who seemed to know everything. Then once more with a classmate she leaned on after that breakup.
After two relationships and two leaves of absence, what remained for Heejeong was only the title of “Queen of Campus Couples.”
She had loved so fiercely. So where had all that love gone? freeweɓnovel.cøm
Looking at Yuna and Yungyo—who belonged to intact families unlike her—she quietly ached.
She wanted to marry soon. To become a good mother herself. Not like her own mother, who introduced new men as “your new dad” countless times. A real mother.
Go Yungyo (23)
“I like Seoul. No one here really knows me.”
Go Yungyo could be summed up in one sentence.
One sentence was enough.
She lives alone in an apartment.
Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. Everything in her house was expensive. Towels, forks—every single item was imported luxury. She didn’t even work part-time, let alone do housework herself. Anyone could see she was a greenhouse flower. A rich family’s beloved daughter.
So no one knew.
That Go Yungyo could set up an ancestral memorial table in no time. That she had never put down a spatula since she was eight. That her two leaves of absence were to nurse her younger brother after a motorcycle accident.
She had no intention of telling anyone. No need to explain what it meant to live as the eldest daughter in a son-obsessed family. Yuna, an only child, and Heejeong, who had an older sister, wouldn’t understand.
Yungyo just wanted to look like a precious daughter from a good home.
If <No Interest Whatsoever> had been a healing drama for exhausted young professionals, this script was similar—but textured differently.
There was a gap between this and the youth commonly portrayed in media.
“That’s what makes it more realistic.”
Myeong Jeha recalled the current mood at MBS’s drama department. With consecutive failures and the Chinese restriction hanging over them, they had never been more anxious.
“They’ll push the schedule as much as possible.”
He could already see it—drafting up to episode four immediately and entering casting, then beginning filming the moment episode eight was completed.
“If we’re lucky, it’ll overlap....”
He picked up the script he had prepared in his other hand.
“Can our Yeoreum handle a sociopath and a college student at the same time?”
There was laughter in his voice. As he roughly calculated the schedules, the corner of his lips curved up.
Every time Han Yeoreum got involved, his expectations were overturned. Everything he had known twisted out of shape.
But it wasn’t unpleasant.
It was fun.
“Looks like this year’s going to get even busier.”
Han Yeoreum was a card that could stir up the entire Korean drama industry, frozen by the restriction.
* * *
[Do Your One Person’s Share... The Masterpiece That Moved Daehakro, <Intern Academy> Opens a New Chapter in Daehakro’s Box Office]
“This isn’t comedy. It’s a documentary.”
The play 〈Intern Academy of the Academy of the Academy〉, which portrays the tearful social entry of MZ generation office workers, is causing an unprecedented sensation in Daehakro’s small theater scene. Since its premiere on the 17th of last month, every showing has sold out. Attention is especially focused on actress Han Yeoreum, who plays the lead role of ‘Jin Jinju.’ Han Yeoreum debuted with 〈The Cherry on the Parfait Belongs to the Heroine〉...
[Would you like to downvote?]
Click.
Eunseol downvoted every article related to Han Yeoreum.
As always, she hated that Han Yeoreum’s articles were uploaded to the portal site at all.
At some point, even if it wasn’t a main headline, Han Yeoreum’s name was always tucked somewhere on the page.
“So annoying.... So annoying, so annoying, so annoying....”
She had bitten her thumb nail so many times that it dug /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ into the flesh gripping the mouse.
“It’s because of <EmBubu>’s ratings, that’s what. Why are they promoting a play on public broadcasting? Seriously.”
From SNS to online communities, praise for Han Yeoreum’s play flooded everywhere. Eunseol monitored all of it—and every time, her fingers moved busily.
Input: fucking boring but the viral marketing is insane TT_TT everyone around me said they wasted their money
Input: hyl’s acting is passable on dramas but once she’s on stage her skills show their limits LOLOLOL let’s be real, broadcasting stations rig everything and edit the hell out of it
Input: I’m a housewife in my 40s. Took my kids to see a play for the first time in a while and came back disappointed. Should’ve just watched The Studio Apartment Cat instead~~ sigh....
The faster she typed, the wider Jin Eunseol’s smile grew.
“People should just go watch dramas. Why bother with cheap theater?”
Jin Eunseol did everything she could from behind anonymity. She wanted to scratch at Han Yeoreum any way she could.
Communities, of course—but she also ran a separate Yousta account. Jin Eunseol’s timeline was filled with Han Yeoreum and Do Gyeoul.
“If it’s Gyeoul, maybe. If it’s the real Gyeoul!”
〈The Fuse〉 shot up in ratings the moment episode one aired. While other shows in the same time slot faltered under the restriction, it quickly surpassed ten episodes.
Do Gyeoul’s acting transformation was also receiving praise. Her previous work, 〈Beyond the Closed Door〉, had been romantic comedy. This time it was a classic romance. With the added weight, her aching emotional line stood out.
Watching 〈The Fuse〉 live, Eunseol thought over and over—
Do Gyeoul was the only actress she could acknowledge.
“Who does Han Yeoreum think she is.”
She wanted to reach Do Gyeoul as quickly as possible. To take that position herself instead of Han Yeoreum.
DaeYeJong’s Light Cohort.
She wanted Jin Eunseol’s name there.
Bzz—. Bzz—. Bzz—.
Her phone vibrated.
“Ah, yes. PD!”
She immediately composed her voice and answered. The PD on the other end greeted her kindly.
“Of course I remember. Filming starts tomorrow at 10 a.m. Yes. I’ve memorized the script. My condition is great~.”
Tomorrow was finally the day of Jin Eunseol’s web drama shoot.
After a few more instructions, she hung up.
Han Yeoreum’s face was still open on her laptop screen.
‘Yeah. I’m next.’
Jin Eunseol closed the laptop.
Tomorrow would finally be the day Jin Eunseol was the lead.
Not Han Yeoreum.
The focus would be on Jin Eunseol.
‘Once I build recognition through this web drama....’
She went to bed early. Her follower count had reached five thousand.
Thanks to that, she didn’t have to worry about paying for hair and makeup before filming. She could receive sponsorships.
As the views on Han Yeoreum’s <EmBubu> clip increased, Eunseol’s follower count rose as well.
And with each increase, Jin Eunseol’s inferiority complex swelled larger.
‘Later, I’ll be on... <EmBubu>....’
That night, Eunseol dreamed that all the cameras that once chased Han Yeoreum were turned entirely toward her.
She slept deeply, hardly stirring.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.
Her phone vibrated several times, but the sweet dream wrapped tightly around her.
Missed calls piled up.
In her dream, Eunseol filmed a web drama, then a movie, then a one-act drama, then another drama, then another film, then even a play.
And every one of them outperformed Han Yeoreum.
[Anonymous 20s Board / Yousta is in chaos right now LOLOLOLOL forced number linkage]
Because of the update, all the private accounts got exposed.... check yours too
—holy shit there was this girl everyone thought was an angel but she had a private account following all these celeb hate accounts LOLOLOLOL
—my team leader has a girlfriend, I kinda want to tell him; her private account popped up for me and I freaked out
—my mutual’s stan account got exposed.. what do we do TT_TT
And at that very moment—
Eunseol’s follower count was rising rapidly.
[HOT / Aspiring actress running a celebrity friend hate account]
