Free Web Novel* * *
Do Gyeoul stepped into the dressing room. As she kept smoothing the thin fabric with her hands, she recalled Han Yeoreum from just moments ago.
The high ponytail tied up neatly, the national team sports jersey, and the school uniform skirt below it.
It was exactly the image of On Jihwa that Gyeoul had been envisioning all this time.
With an unhurried touch, Do Gyeoul changed into a light-colored uniform. A smart watch—a PPL product—remained fastened on her wrist. It was the same one that had been on Han Yeoreum’s wrist.
‘I’ve come this far.’
Back when they had both become Juliet, Han Yeoreum had been stiff at Gyeoul’s side.
But now, she had risen to become a model for a major corporation placing PPL in NetHolics productions.
In just four years.
A thrill she couldn’t quite explain clearly ran through her. The one and only person who could understand Do Gyeoul.
Half of her was excited to see how far Han Yeoreum would climb, and the other half felt an urge to watch Yeoreum struggle, unable to quite reach Gyeoul’s level, desperately clawing her way upward. Moments like that made her heart race.
‘No.’
But right now,
‘...it’s not that.’
At least this much, she could say for certain. She wanted Han Yeoreum to rise higher. Higher, and higher still. To a place so far away it was almost unreachable.
Do Gyeoul had never once looked up at anyone in her life.
Because she had always been at the very top.
Perhaps she had wanted to feel this kind of sensation all along.
For too long, Gyeoul had been bored, stifled, and at times, seized by the urge to destroy everything.
But pushing all those emotions aside, the desire centered around Han Yeoreum occupied the largest space in her heart.
I want to be acknowledged in Han Yeoreum’s place. Even if I have to take everything from her, I want to be the one acknowledged. I want Han Yeoreum to disappear, and for me to stand there instead—like her, but better than her.
That goal, still burning hot in one corner of her chest, made Gyeoul’s heart pound.
If she climbed once more by stepping over Han Yeoreum, who had surpassed her—
In a world that only remembers the very top, Do Gyeoul wanted Han Yeoreum beneath her.
It was also another vow she made to herself.
Because she was convinced that only by breaking someone like Han Yeoreum could she prove something to herself.
Knock knock—
“Actress, is there any issue with the outfit?”
When she took too long inside, the coordinator outside knocked on the door. Gyeoul, having already composed her expression, spoke.
“No.”
She brushed back her slightly disheveled hair from changing clothes and repeated, as if savoring the words,
“There’s no problem at all.”
Not long after, Gyeoul stepped onto the set in the appearance of Yoo Yeonji, a newly assigned nurse with her hair neatly tied.
* * *
At last, the filming setup was complete. After checking the prepared storyboard, O Seonyul took a seat.
He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. His uncolored, stark white, slightly coarse hair fell back.
Beyond the monitor, the hospital lobby appeared peaceful, part of ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) an ordinary day. It was far too perfect in quality to be just a drama set.
On Jihwa, the patient, waited in the lobby. Tak Jeongyun and Do Gyeoul, both nurses, passed by. Extras moved through the space.
Middle-aged actors with fairly long acting careers, though not firmly etched into the public’s memory, appeared as doctors, cleaners, and security guards.
As if they had always belonged there.
The part being filmed now carried its own meaning.
It laid the groundwork for tension in the early stages, with background music later suggesting that everyone here would soon fall into danger.
‘But that only works once it’s edited.’
Without music, without the preceding scenes, this was nothing more than an ordinary daily-life moment.
Even knowing this was the first day’s shooting scene, the reason the NetHolics head was coming today was obvious.
She wasn’t here to see the actors.
‘She wants to check how far a JC ENM-affiliated production company has gone.’
While in Korea, NetHolics would be contacting numerous production companies. It was clear that the 〈Seoul Metropolitan City〉 set would become Andrea’s benchmark.
Bzzz—
Right then, Director O’s phone vibrated.
—This is Jegal Rok. Are preparations complete?
“Oh. Perfect timing. We just finished setting up.”
—Yes. We’ll be arriving shortly.
Soon, the head of NetHolics and the director from JC ENM would arrive at the set.
That single fact filled the set with a tension unlike before.
“Wow... I’m seeing Director Jegal Rok for the first time....”
“You don’t usually get to see him on-site.”
“Is NetHolics really coming? Here?”
Amid the lingering excitement, a black limousine finally arrived. Two tall figures dressed entirely in black appeared at the entrance.
A blonde woman with a polished, businesslike smile entered the set.
“To avoid potential spoiler issues, we’ll focus filming mainly around the desk. Please be careful not to capture the actors in frame.”
“Yes! Understood.”
At Jegal Rok’s guidance, the reporters quickly scanning the set nodded. The NetHolics head and Jegal Rok walked inside.
Standing at the hospital reception desk, Andrea carefully examined the documents in Jegal Rok’s hand.
Click, click, click.
The only sound filling the vast set was the shutter of cameras.
Because the director, the staff, the actors—all eyes were fixed on one place.
Jegal Rok and Andrea, both at the top of the industry, acted as though the atmosphere of the set didn’t matter at all.
There was no praise for the set, no encouragement for the director. They simply alternated between reviewing documents and inspecting the set.
It felt like standing before a tribunal.
Everyone felt the same.
Still wearing that pleasant smile, Andrea looked at Director O with cold blue eyes and spoke.
“Shall we begin?”
* * *
Extras were placed throughout the lobby. Patients pushing IV stands, people leaving the lobby, passing doctors, waiting visitors.
“We’ll go with a long take in one go.”
And the two most important people, Do Gyeoul and Han Yeoreum, were positioned diagonally.
Gyeoul stood, Yeoreum sat in the lobby.
Since it was the first scene, both staff and actors had pushed their concentration to the limit.
Even breathing was careful, making the massive set fall into silence.
Director O’s signal cut through the frozen air.
“Ready—.”
Sitting beside him, Jegal Rok glanced sideways at Andrea. The faint smile on her lips remained unchanged. Impossible to read.
“Action.”
Do Gyeoul, dressed in a nurse’s uniform, crossed the center of the lobby.
Her face was nearly bare of makeup. Light brows, and just enough tinted lip balm to avoid looking washed out.
“Sunbae, at dawn yesterday....”
“Yeah, I know. I know without you saying it.”
“...I’m sorry.”
Tak Jeongyun walked with sharp, businesslike steps. Two steps behind, Do Gyeoul hurried to match her pace.
Looking at the chart, Tak Jeongyun spoke in a voice edged with irritation.
“When the patient in room 502’s BP dropped at 3 a.m., did you increase the dose according to the norepinephrine guideline?”
“Ah... the patient’s SPO2 was unstable.... I was checking the Optiflow and got overwhelmed, so I couldn’t record it properly. I’m sorry....”
“Get it together. Even if vitals fluctuate, are you going to say you’re overwhelmed right in front of them?”
Even while walking, neither of them broke their breathing rhythm. Their pronunciation was clear, every word audible.
‘Well, Tak Jeongyun is a theater actress, so that makes sense.’
But Do Gyeoul kept up better than expected. Even alongside a veteran stage actress, her projection didn’t feel lacking.
Han Yeoreum sat in the lobby chair, her back turned, wearing the national team jersey.
She hadn’t moved at all since earlier. Not even the high ponytail tied above her head had shifted.
As if she were fixed in place.
“Jihwa, if it’s chilly, do you want Mom to get you something warm while we wait? So you don’t get thirsty?”
At her mother’s gentle touch on her shoulder, On Jihwa silently shook her head.
Her reserved attitude created the image of a quiet athlete.
‘Playing Lee Seohae earlier probably helped.’
If handled poorly, she might have seemed sensitive or frail. But Han Yeoreum’s On Jihwa had a subtle difference.
Her legs were slightly apart, her hands clasped together resting on her knees. Like an athlete waiting for her turn to compete.
Even in a mildly boring everyday moment, On Jihwa carried herself with calm composure.
‘If she were just sitting still or had crossed one leg, it wouldn’t feel like that.’
Both of them felt like real people who could exist somewhere. A nurse at a university hospital. A national athlete. freewebnøvel.coɱ
“Cut!”
Director O gave the signal, and everyone waited for Andrea’s reaction.
Even Jegal Rok.
