I was walking quickly, trying to clear my head after the pressure of the audition. The street was lined with quaint shops, but I barely registered them. Then, a voice cut through the background noise, sharp and familiar.
"Seonbae!"
I tried to ignore it, quickening my pace. I didn't want to deal with anyone from the academy right now.
"Myeong Seonbae!" the voice insisted, closer this time.
I sighed and finally turned. It was Yena. She had that bright, slightly unnerving intensity about her, a canvas backpack slung over her shoulder.
"Oh, Yena," I acknowledged, keeping my expression neutral.
She didn't waste any time on small talk. She plunged right into the painful subject.
"Why did you quit the play you were in with Haedo Seonbae?" she asked, her gaze fixed on me.
My carefully constructed composure wavered. Oh…
"Well... no reason..." I murmured, trying to casually brush the long hair off my face, but my attempt at nonchalance failed. The drop of sweat that tracked down my temple was a betrayal.
Yena's eyes narrowed, seeing right through me. "Was it because you broke up?"
My jaw tightened, and I couldn't stop the small, sharp gasp that escaped me—just an exclamation mark of shock and denial. !
Yena gave a small, rueful little laugh. "Was it that obvious...? Heh... Extremely."
A heavy silence fell. The truth hung between us, the reason I'd walked away from the production, from my co-star, from him. It was embarrassing, it was real, and now she knew.
Yena looked down for a moment, then back up at me with an odd determination.
"...Then," she began, her voice soft, "...can I take your part?"
"Yeah, of course," I answered immediately, shrugging. The role was hers if she wanted the mess that came with it.
She paused, looking deeply troubled. Her mouth moved wordlessly for a few seconds.
"Then…"
Then, a sudden, bright smile bloomed on her face—a genuinely unsettling, predatory smile that made my stomach drop.
"...Can I date Haedo Seonbae?"
My eyes widened, a tear of shock welling up. "...What?" My voice was barely a whisper. I stood there, utterly dumbfounded by her audacity.
She waited a beat, watching my horrified expression.
Then she burst out laughing.
"Pfft! I'm joking. That's... up to you two..."
I stared at her, still speechless, not sure whether to be furious, relieved, or simply terrified of her nerve. It was clear this girl was going to be trouble.
Yena watched my shocked, teary face. "Pfft! I'm joking. That's... up to you two..." She let the tension dissipate, the subject of Haedo Seonbae and our messy breakup closed for the moment.
I was still reeling from her audacity when her expression suddenly softened, shifting from mocking confidence to nervous sincerity. She started to rummage through her backpack.
"..."
She pulled out a crumpled sheaf of papers, pages covered in hurried handwriting and highlighter marks. Her smile vanished, replaced by a genuine look of distress. "I was rehearsing on my own, but was having some trouble..."
I gave her a questioning look. ...?
She held out the script, exposing the pages. "That's my part..."
I stared at the pages she was clutching, stunned. She had already received and begun rehearsing a part.
Then she looked up at me, her eyes earnest and a little desperate. "Can you help me with my acting?"
The request hit me with the force of a physical blow. When did she rehearse all that? I felt a trickle of cold sweat run down my neck. This girl, the one who casually taunted me about my ex-boyfriend, was already deeply invested in an acting job, possibly the very one I had quit. Her proactive nature was both impressive and a little terrifying.
A short while later, I was standing in front of the door labeled "TWO WOMEN" CASTING AUDITION. I took a deep breath, pushing the confrontation with Yena and my complex feelings about Haedo aside. This was my moment.
I opened the door and stepped inside the rehearsal space.
"I've been waiting for you," a voice called out. It was Yena Ban, the established actress, sitting at the panel table, smiling warmly as she had before.
"Then shall we get started?"
But as I moved forward, my eyes registered another figure in the room. A second person was seated at the table, facing away from me, in the same pinkish blazer as my agent from earlier. Wait... that wasn't my agent.
The person turned, and my jaw dropped.
It was Yena. The short-haired junior actress who had just asked me for acting help on the street.
"What are you doing here...?" I demanded, my voice tight with confusion and surprise.
She looked at me with that same unsettling, wide-eyed smile she wore when she had asked about my ex.
"Can't I be here, Myeong?"
The tables had turned completely. The student was sitting with the judge. I realized, with a rush of dread, that the audition was about to begin, and Yena, the girl who had quit her play over a breakup, now had to perform in front of her taunting junior.
My mind raced, reeling from the sight of Yena, the junior actress, sitting at the judge's table.
"What are you doing here…?" I demanded, the composure I had built up dissolving into utter disbelief.
She leaned back in her chair, wearing that same challenging, knowing smirk. "Can't I be here, Myeong?"
I stood rigid in the center of the spacious, brightly-lit audition room, wearing my white shirt and dark pants. The veteran actress, Yena Ban, sitting next to the junior, watched with an amused, welcoming smile.
The younger Yena, my junior, tapped her finger on her cheek. "I'm involved in the production... and I'm starring in it." Her smile widened, pure triumph mixed with mischief. "I think I'm allowed to be involved in casting, too."
My eyes widened. The shock was palpable, freezing me in place. She wasn't just auditioning; she was already cast and was judging me! The tear I had wiped away moments ago felt insignificant compared to the humiliation and surprise now washing over me.
Yena Ban, the veteran actress, leaned forward, her expression softening a little. "Oh, come on, Myeong. You're not a new actor. The time has been... turbulent, but you're not new."
I tried to regain my footing, falling back on professional formality despite the chaotic circumstances.
"Hello," I managed, my voice clipped and quiet. My lips pressed into a tight, silent line.
I tried to introduce myself properly, to put my history and my current vulnerability aside. "I'm a new actor, Myeong Yu. Looking forward to—"
The younger Yena cut me off again, shaking her head. The gentle condescension in her eyes was unbearable.
Yena Ban spoke up, her voice serious and kindling a faint spark of hope within me. She smiled, but her eyes held genuine respect. "I recommended you. Told them you were a star in the indie movie scene."
My breath hitched. She was the reason I was here? The actress I admired, Yena Ban, had pulled me back from the fringes?
"All you had was that... photo? That media scandal..." Yena Ban continued, her gaze direct, unwavering. The mention of the scandal—the reason I had quit the play, the reason I broke up with Haedo, the reason my career stalled—felt like a punch. "I just felt so bad that your acting skills were overlooked."
She clapped her hands together, the sound sharp and authoritative, snapping me out of my self-pity. The two men on the panel looked at me expectantly.
"Woo! I'm so excited!" Yena Ban exclaimed, her earlier enthusiasm fully restored. Her excitement was genuine, infectious, and entirely focused on me. She gestured widely with a hand, inviting me to begin.
"So show us that amazing acting of yours right here."
This was it. The lead role. The chance to prove myself. The chance to overcome the gossip, the scandal, and my own broken heart. And I had to do it while being judged by my crush's ex-girlfriend and a junior actress who had just mocked me.
I moved to the center of the room. The spotlight was now on me.
I stood utterly still, the applause of the judges—specifically the loud, insistent clap from Yena Ban—ringing in my ears. I focused on her face, seeing the slight, knowing smile that always felt like a challenge. The tension was suffocating.
What did I do? What am I to her... I felt the urge to flee, a desperate whisper in my mind. Should I walk out right now...?
I watched Yena Ban, her lips curling into a subtle smirk. Her eyes were intense; she was studying me, assessing me. Her body swayed almost imperceptibly as she leaned back, an undeniable air of power surrounding her.
She seemed to be speaking, even when her mouth wasn't moving. A silent communication, cold and mocking. On the surface, she's just on the edge of crossing the line...
But I knew the truth. That look, that calculated stare. ...That makes her want to walk all over me?
I knew that smile. I felt the weight of her unspoken words, the kind of contempt and challenge only a true star could direct at a struggling comeback actress. But I know that she's speaking on a frequency only I can hear... scoff... ...cursing me endlessly.
The air felt thick with her silent judgment and her cruel, subtle taunts. It was a pressure cooker of emotions—my career on the line, my heartbreak exposed, and now this star, the reason I had a chance at all, was subjecting me to this invisible torture.
I took a deep breath, pushing the fear down. This wasn't about her. It was about me.
If I can overcome this noise...
The tears that had threatened earlier evaporated, replaced by a steel resolve. The offer of this lead role, this chance at redemption, was a gift she was giving me, but it felt tainted. It was a challenge wrapped in a recommendation.
I lowered my eyes, then raised them, forcing a slight smile that mirrored her own, but with a different kind of strength. ...I can get everything I want.
"So I'll accept this holy grail from you, poisoned with your curses."
My voice was steady, the words firm and clear, a direct response to her silent challenge, a defiance only she would understand. I stepped forward, into the center of the stage.
"Thanks, Yena."
The audition was no longer just a performance; it was a battle. I was ready to begin.
I had made my silent declaration: "So I'll accept this holy grail from you, poisoned with your curses. Thanks, Yena."
I stepped into the light, letting the tension of the room fuel my performance. The lines I spoke were not just words; they were a distillation of the pressure, the gossip, the failure, and the defiant hope that had brought me back. I stared past the judging panel, past the short-haired Yena who was waiting to see me stumble, channeling my energy into the scene.
I poured everything into the moment, projecting power and desperate control. I had to let them hear the truth that lay beneath the public scandal.
My final line was a whisper, backed by a lifetime of silent battles:
"You can scream until you lose your voice..." I let the silence hang, then finished with a fierce resolve. "...but you'll never be able to ruin my life."
I held the position for a moment longer, then let my shoulders relax.
"Then I'll begin," I murmured, the simple phrase signaling the end of my audition and the beginning of whatever came next.
The clapping was polite, but I barely heard it. I could only see the two Yenas—the star actress with her encouraging but challenging smile, and my junior with her assessing stare.
Minutes later, I stumbled out of the building. The fresh night air was a shock after the fluorescent heat of the audition room. I needed to breathe. I needed a moment where no one was looking at me, judging me.
I pulled out the cigarette I sometimes carried for moments like this, desperate for a smoke. My hands were shaking slightly as I fumbled with the lighter. Flick. Shake. Nothing. The sound was a pathetic, empty click.
"F..." I muttered, utterly drained.
A shadow fell over me.
"Are you alright?" a voice asked.
I spun around. Standing behind me was a tall man with distinctively light, perhaps silver, hair, dressed impeccably in a dark turtleneck and suit jacket. My current manager.
"Oh, Manager Eun..." I said, slightly mortified that he had caught me looking so disheveled and desperate for a smoke. I let out a nervous, half-hearted laugh.
"It's all good, but my lighter is dead, that's all... haha..." I tried to wave off his concern, but he wasn't buying it. His eyes were sharp, scanning my face.
"Did something happen at the audition?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
I looked away, inhaling sharply on the unlit cigarette. How could I even begin to explain the labyrinth of personal challenges and professional intrigue that had just transpired? The subtle threats, the genuine support, and the sheer audacity of my junior sitting on the casting panel.
I just shook my head. For now, the weight of the Two Women audition, the two Yenas, and the ghosts of my past—including Haedo Seonbae—was just something I had to carry alone.
"It's all good, but my lighter is dead, that's all... haha..." I tried to sound breezy, tucking the unlit cigarette into my mouth and giving Manager Eun a strained smile. He was still giving me that intense, silver-haired stare.
"Did something happen at the audition?" he asked.
I sighed, shaking my head. "No, nothing happened." I shifted my weight, trying to appear unbothered, but my clothes felt suddenly too tight, and the air too thin. I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth. "It's just that the casting was nearly confirmed... and they only wanted a simple audition. But they dragged it out. Took forty minutes."
Manager Eun's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. He was clearly picking up on the underlying stress.
"Yena Ban recommended me," I admitted, my voice dropping slightly, "so I couldn't exactly turn back once I was in there. She basically said, 'Show us that amazing acting of yours right here'." I tried to infuse the memory with some of her enthusiasm, but it came out flat.
He didn't ask about Yena Ban, the famous actress. Instead, he zeroed in on the real point of pressure. "What did they say about the role?".
I looked down at the concrete, remembering the sign on the door. "They're considering you for a lead role... this production could be your first leading role."
I shook my head again. "Nothing concrete. They just told me to put my resume on the table. I barely managed to introduce myself, they cut me off immediately."
Manager Eun leaned in, his gaze demanding the truth. "Tell me everything that happened. No exceptions.".
I knew I couldn't hide the most jarring part.
"And... Yena was there. My junior from the academy," I confessed, swallowing the bitter taste of that humiliation.
Manager Eun blinked slowly. "The one who asked you for acting help on the street?"
"Yes. She was sitting on the panel," I said, the words heavy with disbelief. "She said she was involved in the production and already starring in it. She was judging me."
Manager Eun stared at me for a long moment, processing the bizarre setup. Then, his face hardened, taking on a look of cold, professional fury. He didn't turn that anger toward me, but toward the invisible forces working against us.
"That damn Yena..." he muttered under his breath.
He reached into his own coat pocket, pulling out a sleek, expensive-looking silver lighter. He snapped it open with a satisfying flick and held the flame out toward my face.
"Here," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Take a breath. No matter what that witch is planning, she won't ruin your career."
I lit my cigarette, taking a long, much-needed drag, the smoke burning away a fraction of the built-up tension. I looked at Manager Eun, grateful for his steady presence.
"Thanks, Manager Eun," I said, finally letting a genuine, weary smile touch my lips.
I took another drag of my cigarette, watching the smoke swirl into the night air. Manager Eun's rage toward the junior actress—the other Yena—was a comfort, but the truth was, the pressure came from the veteran Yena Ban.
She had fought for me. She had recommended me, the actress with the recent media scandal, to return to the stage for a lead role in Two Women. Why?
My mind drifted back to a brightly lit rehearsal room, months ago.
I was watching Yena Ban rehearse a scene. Even practicing alone, she was electric. I sat off to the side, humbled by her mastery.
She paused, turning her gaze on me. I tried to look casual, leaning on the table.
"You're a genius, Myeong," she declared, her eyes intense.
I laughed awkwardly, shaking my head. "No way, Seonbae. I'm just okay."
She fixed me with a serious look, one that brooked no argument. "Stop pretending like you're not talented."
She walked toward me, her voice dropping to a low, powerful register. "There is no limit to what you can do." She leaned closer, her expression turning challenging. "There is absolutely no reason for someone like you... to play small parts and act like an amateur."
She reached out and took my hand, her grip surprisingly strong.
"I've been watching you since the academy. The very first time I saw you, I knew." Her voice was soft, but the confidence behind it made the air around us crackle. "You have what it takes to be the greatest actress."
She then pointed at the lines of a script I was holding, which must have been a minor role at the time. "Don't waste your time with this trash."
She smiled then, a genuine, encouraging, yet demanding smile. "You should be leading the stage."
Her words had been a heady mix of praise and a command. She wasn't just complimenting me; she was imposing a massive expectation, a burden of genius I wasn't sure I could carry. She seemed to see my potential more clearly than I saw my own face in the mirror.
And that was the true fear. If I failed to meet her expectations on this stage, having been given this second chance because of her, the fall would be catastrophic. The audition I had just completed wasn't just about winning a role; it was about honoring—or betraying—Yena Ban's faith in me.
I extinguished the cigarette butt on the ground with my heel, the ember dying instantly.
"She always had too much faith in me," I murmured to Manager Eun, the weight of the memory heavier than the stress of the present.
Manager Eun nodded slowly. "That's why we have to win this. For her, and for us."
"...AND DIRECTOR HYEONJAE WOO." The name echoed in my ears, a deep, resonant sound that felt too heavy for the quiet room. My heart gave a sharp, frantic beat against my ribs, an unsteady rhythm against the profound silence that had just fallen.
I kept my gaze fixed on the woman across from me, her dark eyes wide and fixed on the table, refusing to meet my own. Director Woo—the man who once promised me the lead role in his first major film, the one who saw a raw, fragile muse in me before anyone else—was here. But the name wasn't just his; it carried the weight of our broken history, of a love that was sacrificed on the altar of ambition and a dream that became a nightmare.
My hands, hidden in my lap, were trembling. The crisp white collar of my blouse felt suffocating, and the heavy sweater vest was a shield against a cold that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.
I had come here to take a small step forward, to reclaim a piece of the career that had stalled, and now I was standing at the precipice of my past.
A soft voice, cool and steady, cut through my panic. The woman—a successful senior actress, whose career I envied and whose presence I couldn't escape—gestured to the empty chair beside her.
"SIT HERE, I."
The words weren't a request; they were an order, delivered with the practiced grace of someone who expected immediate compliance. Her tone was sharp, a subtle reminder of the new hierarchy. I was no longer the promising young starlet with Director Woo's attention; I was just a hopeful, a woman struggling to claw her way back.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced my feet to move. Every step was a battle against the urge to turn and run, to escape the scrutiny of the room and the ghost of the man whose name had just been spoken. As I sat down, the chair felt like a spotlight, and I knew, with a sinking certainty, that whatever happened next would be the most important performance of my life.