Free Web Novel“What do you mean, what is it? It’s a gift from your fans.”
Tak Jeongyun, who had arrived earlier, shook a small white box. A sticker with my photo printed on it was attached to the top.
[An actress we will love passionately
Happy Birthday, Han Yeoreum ♥︎]
It was strange. It was clearly my photo, yet it felt oddly unfamiliar.
“Open it already.”
Choi Seonhye nudged me with her elbow from beside me. I carefully opened the box.
The moment I lifted the lid, a wave of sweetness rushed out.
Pale green macarons. Cookies decorated with icing to look like melon bread. Even chocolate éclairs.
“Wow....”
This was the kind of thing only celebrities received.
Well, technically it wasn’t my first time seeing snack support. Every now and then, if I was lucky, I’d gotten to eat leftovers from other celebrities’ support boxes.
But this—one with my photo on it. A Han Yeoreum support box.
It was my first.
I solemnly pulled out my phone.
Click. Click. Clickclickclickclick.
‘This is a problem. No matter how I take it, the photos come out pretty. I can’t stop pressing the shutter.’
Tak Jeongyun and Ilisamho had already moved close to my sides, urging me on.
“Try one. It’s good.”
I stared at the box for a moment, then shook my head.
“I’ll take it home and share it with my brother.”
I should let Han Taeyang know what kind of actress his sister was. And once we finished the cookies, I’d clean the box and display it by the front door as a keepsake.
“Of course there’s one for Taeyang too. They sent the exact quantity.”
“And this isn’t the end.”
Coordinator Hwang placed a bouquet of freesias in my arms.
“There’s a message book too. And flowers.”
“And somewhere else to stop by before you go on stage.”
This isn’t the end?
What else is there?
Before I knew it, I was standing in front of a café near Blue Art Center.
“Uh....”
My photo was hanging at the entrance.
And beneath it—
“Is this....”
HAPPY YEOREUM DAY
“My birthday café?”
* * *
Aetami panicked at the larger-than-expected turnout.
‘At this rate, we’re going to run out of cup holders.’
The cup holders she’d thought would last comfortably were already half gone. Once the Han Yeoreum–Geum Bitgang play ended tonight, they ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) might not even have enough.
‘Should’ve printed more.’
She looked around the birthday café, pleasantly filled with people on a weekend afternoon.
Buying two of each good—for collection and for display—had been the right decision.
From the entrance, she’d created a photo zone with 〈ParCheHi〉 Blu-ray goods: Pi Chaewon’s student ID, ID photos, mini posters. She’d placed melon bread and white milk together, and added a pale yellow notebook.
‘And there’s the 〈Strange Tales〉 zone too.’
Aetami looked proudly to the opposite wall.
Then—
‘...Huh?’
Someone was crossing from beyond the crosswalk.
A familiar silhouette.
There was no way she wouldn’t recognize it.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
Her heart burned.
She had hoped for content—but she hadn’t expected this level of content.
‘I only imagined a support verification photo...!’
She never thought Yeoreum would come to the birthday café in person.
The door opened.
Ding.
With the clear chime, Yeoreum stepped inside. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
And their eyes met.
Just like the first time they’d met.
“Hello!”
The moment Yeoreum greeted them, every head in the café turned.
It was a voice that made you immediately recognize who it belonged to.
“Gasp....”
“Han Yeoreum....”
“Hey, what? What?”
Yeoreum bowed politely to the whispering people and rushed forward.
“Right? We’ve seen each other several times, haven’t we?”
Yeoreum... remembers... me?
“It’s amazing.... I spotted you from across the crosswalk and kept thinking, no way, no way.”
Yeoreum... me....
“The birthday café is so pretty! It’s my first time seeing something like this for my birthday.”
Remembers?
I realized something was holding my hand.
Soft. Warm. Slightly damp.
This... hand...?
Yeoreum... is holding... me?
“Why are you so cute?”
“Pardon?”
“No, no, nothing.”
Aetami barely pulled out her workplace persona.
She had to stay composed.
Yeoreum had taken time out of her schedule to visit; they couldn’t keep her too long.
“Everyone... the actress is here....”
She carefully controlled her voice so it wouldn’t crack or rise too high like an overwhelmed fan.
“Could we... could we get a signature...?”
“Of course!”
Yeoreum immediately pulled out a pen she had prepared.
A mini fan signing began in one corner of the café.
“Your name?”
“Oh, you’ve been watching since 〈ParCheHi〉?”
“I saved the message book to read at home. I was afraid I’d forget all my lines if I read it before the show.... What did you write? I’ll look for that part carefully later.”
Somehow the actress was talking far more than the fans, yet the atmosphere remained warm.
Yeoreum wrote P.S. notes for each person and even took selfies.
‘As if she had been waiting for this day....’
Cheek pokes. Cheek hearts. Even elaborate heart poses no one had ever seen before.
Aetami saw it clearly.
‘Even if another fan club tries to recruit them, they’ll never even glance.’
The subtle shift in expression on the faces of fans who had just sworn loyalty to Han Yeoreum.
‘...Though they’ll probably still add another bias.’
But this was the dry world of actor fandom, where scarce content was the norm.
You could never love just one.
Still, Aetami decided she would love Yeoreum the most.
And wait for 〈The Great Garland〉.
‘Next year....’
There would probably be far more people celebrating Yeoreum’s birthday.
* * *
IP 85.152 stopped by Daehakro again.
‘Not 〈Intern Academy of the Academy of the Academy〉, but....’
She couldn’t let the fire in her heart cool down.
In the early days of 〈Intern Academy〉, she had lived as though every day were Culture Day. Though disappointed, she chose to watch another play.
‘And since I’m nearby anyway....’
It absolutely was not to visit Han Yeoreum’s birthday café.
Stopping by a café along the way for coffee was extremely efficient. Supporting Daehakro’s commercial district was essential for sustaining quality theater—
“Han Yeoreum!!!”
IP 85.152 shouted before she realized it.
Across the crosswalk, Han Yeoreum was exiting the birthday café.
Louder than a truck’s horn.
Their eyes met.
‘Ah! Red light!’
But she couldn’t cross.
IP 85.152 stared at the signal.
It refused to change.
As panic began to rise—
‘...What?’
Han Yeoreum stood there.
Waving.
‘Is she... waiting for me?’
Without thinking, IP 85.152 lifted her hand and waved back.
The signal changed.
Before she knew it, she had held Han Yeoreum’s hand, mentioned she’d seen her even in Taiwan, received a signature, taken a selfie.
Time swept by like a storm.
‘What just happened?’
In her hand were a cup holder and a sticker.
IP 85.152 sat quietly, looking at the 〈ParCheHi〉 photo zone.
‘Come to think of it, Han Yeoreum isn’t just an actress now. She’s a “theater” actress.’
As someone who loved culture and refinement, she had no choice but to like Han Yeoreum—at least a little—for personally elevating the quality of small-theater productions in Korea.
She wasn’t truly a fan.
* * *
“Sunbae. Yeoreum’s running a little late.”
“Why?”
“She had to stop by the agency to take photos with the gifts and upload verification shots.”
This was a lounge café in Gangnam.
The same place Myeong Jeha had rented last year for Han Yeoreum’s birthday party.
Joo Junseo diligently inflated balloons with a pump.
After searching and seeing that a birthday café was happening, Choo Gaeul had strongly insisted that they should prepare something more impressive.
And so, this labor began.
Myeong Jeha tied off balloons with such skill it looked like he had been dispatched from a professional event company.
At some point, he had even taken over Kwon Junhyeok’s share.
“Sorry.... I’ll hang these.”
“Yes. Please do.”
Myeong Jeha was always smiling.
But today was slightly different.
He was smiling more.
Joo Junseo wandered over and casually asked,
“What’s your gift?”
What on earth had he prepared that made him look that excited?
“Hmm....”
Myeong Jeha lightly tapped the balloon in his hand upward.
It floated down slowly, weightless.
Watching it descend, he smiled brightly.
“Something fun.”
Something Han Yeoreum would never forget.
Probably for the rest of her life.
