I clutched my hands, a giddy feeling swelling in my chest as the writer, Yena, spoke. Even the subtle clatter of the coffee cups on the table seemed to amplify the moment.
"...I-I was lucky enough to win an award for the screenplay…" the man beside her, looking earnest and nervous, was saying. He wore glasses and had a thoughtful, slightly concerned expression. "Getting to meet such an a-amazing director… and beautiful A-actresses… is an incredible honor…!!"
I couldn't help but lean forward, my face splitting into a wide smile. "The honor's all mine!" I countered warmly, giving a little applause.
Yena, who had a striking, dark look and bangs obscuring her eyes, spoke next, her voice a little shy. "H-hello… I-I'm Yena, I wrote the screenplay for Two Women…" She paused, gathering her courage. "I-I'm sure you've read it, but… Two Women is about… two women who seem to be total opposites, but are more alike than they think…"
My smile widened. I knew her work. It was brilliant.
"As soon as I read your screenplay, I immediately thought of a director and actress who would be perfect for it…" I spoke quickly, my excitement bubbling up. My eyes shone as I made a fist. "And I was like, 'THIS NEEDS TO BE MADE INTO A MOVIE!'"
Yena's usually reserved expression broke into a tiny, shocked figure of delight. "Gosh… Thank you so much…"
The other actress sitting with us, perhaps the one I had in mind, looked at me, impressed. "S-so you immediately thought of Director Hyeonjae Woo and actress Myeong Yu...?"
I nodded firmly. "Yes. I begged the production company and said it had to be them, no matter what. I'm positive Two Women will be a hit, working with these two."
I turned back to Director Woo, my smile a touch too bright, trying to keep the energy up after my big pitch. "Director Woo… I'm not putting too much pressure on you, am I? Haha!"
He looked nervous, adjusting his glasses and simply muttering, "…"
I quickly jumped in with a reassurance. "But at least you're working with me, so you must feel at ease."
A sudden, sharp "OHH..." escaped Yena. The poor thing was clutching her coffee cup tightly.
The other actress, the one who had been silently observing, leaned toward me and spoke coolly. "The two of them have been together since way back when."
"Oh, just movie-wise, of course," I clarified instantly, chuckling. I noticed the Director's eyes darting away nervously, and even the other actress's expression gave little away, her eyes slightly narrowed.
"NOT AS A COUPLE OR ANYTHING, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I emphasized, trying to squash any rumor before it started. The other actress just looked at me, a cryptic smile playing on her lips.
Then she gave me a look that sent a little chill down my spine. Her eyes were knowing and slightly malicious, and she let out a low, unsettling SCOFF. "Are you having fun?" she asked, her voice dripping with implication.
Suddenly, the whole situation erupted. Yena flinched. From the dark-haired writer came an inarticulate sound of pure panic and distress—"#@($!"—followed by a frantic "C-COUGH! COUGH! SORRY…!!!"
But the coughing fit wasn't the worst of it. Her coffee cup had tumbled, spilling a dark puddle across the light-colored table.
Yena immediately sprang back from the table in a panic. The small, visual representation of her inner self was screaming: PANIC! PANIC!
"AH! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" I cried out, genuinely concerned.
"Y-yes… I'm just going to head to the bathroom…!!" Yena stammered out, bolting upright.
"Yes, take your time!" I called after her.
The Director and I watched, stunned, as she practically ran for the door. SLAM! The sound of the door closing echoed loudly, leaving the three of us in a stunned silence.
I turned to the other actress, trying to lighten the mood. "It's been a long time since it was just the three of us!" I said, forcing a clap and a bright smile. "Myeong, when was the last time we all saw each other?"
The actress, whom I had just addressed as Myeong, met my gaze, her expression unreadable.
I turned to Myeong, trying to salvage the atmosphere, my hands together in a cheerful clap. "It's been a long time since it was just the three of us!"
I leaned in conspiratorially. "Myeong, when was the last time we all saw each other?"
Myeong returned my eager gaze with a slow, calculating SMIRK. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and held a dark amusement. "Gosh, I don't know." She paused, dragging the moment out just to see me squirm. Then, the poison landed.
"The day you kissed someone else's man?"
The air froze. Director Woo, who had been sitting stock-still, instantly raised his head and stood up, the action visually accompanied by a 'STAND' sound effect. My expression morphed from forced cheerfulness to shock, my mouth hanging slightly open.
I watched Myeong move, her back to me, taking a few steps away from the table.
"Where are you going?" I demanded, the cheer wiped clean from my voice.
"Let's clean this up, Director Woo," Myeong said, completely ignoring me and addressing the director directly.
Director Woo, his glasses reflecting the light, looked down, his face a mask of weary resignation.
I tried to regain control, my voice small. "Huh, she left." The moment Myeong stepped away, I was left alone with the silent, uncomfortable director.
I looked down at the coffee puddle on the table and picked up my own cup. The coffee was lukewarm. "Good thing the coffee wasn't hot." I tried to laugh it off, though the sound was hollow. "It would have been a disaster if it was hot…"
But the disaster was already here, and it had nothing to do with spilled coffee. It was Myeong, and the words she'd just dropped like a grenade.

I stared at the spot where Myeong had been, the single line she dropped—"The day you kissed someone else's man?"—still ringing in my ears. I felt a cold knot in my stomach, though I maintained a bewildered look as I picked up the remnants of the writer's spilled coffee.
Myeong, meanwhile, was already busy cleaning, calmly wiping the dark stain from the conference table. Her movements were sharp and deliberate. She glanced at me, her mouth twisting into a subtle SCOFF.
I felt the pressure intensify, the walls closing in. The sheer effortless control Myeong wielded, even while performing a mundane task like cleaning up coffee, was suffocating.
Can I really fight back and win? The thought was a raw, visceral spike of fear. I knew my strength, but Myeong's malice was a weapon I was never fully prepared for.
Later, outside, under the fading light, Myeong was seen walking away, her posture stiff, the tension visible even from a distance.
I ran into someone else—a handsome man with striking white hair, dressed in black. He looked at me with concern.
"I have nothing," I confessed, the full weight of my predicament settling on me. "Can you give me your hand?"
He met my gaze, his expression firm and supportive. "I don't want to force you to do anything," he said, pulling out a small, silver lighter engraved with a star and the words 'DEAR. M'. "But I want to support you in any way I can." He slid the lighter into my hand.
I looked at him, my heart heavy with doubt. "What if I lose?"
His voice was steady, the assurance I desperately needed. "Then you can get up and fight again. So you can fight as hard as you want."
"This is…" I trailed off, looking from the white-haired man to the lighter in my hand, feeling a flicker of hope. He stood tall and close, a protective presence.
His words fueled a silent resolve: What can you even do at this point? The world had asked me this, and Myeong was trying to prove I was powerless. But now, with a single, small token of support, I was ready to search for the answer.
The meeting began in a burst of nervous excitement. The man beside the writer, Soojan, was practically vibrating with awe. "...and beautiful A-actresses… is an incredible honor…!!" he finished, his face flushed.
I beamed, clapping my hands. "The honor's all mine! I-I was lucky enough to win an award for the screenplay…" I said, my voice full of enthusiasm.
Soojan, the writer, offered a timid introduction. "H-hello… I-I'm Soojan, I wrote the screenplay for Two Women…" She paused, gathering her courage. My rival, the actress Myeong, sat quietly beside me. Soojan continued, "I-I'm sure you've read it, but… Two Women is about… two women who seem to be total opposites, but are more alike than they think…"
My eyes sparkled. "As soon as I read your screenplay, I immediately thought of a director and actress who would be perfect for it…" I made a determined fist. "And I was like, 'THIS NEEDS TO BE MADE INTO A MOVIE!'"
Soojan looked shocked and pleased. "Gosh… Thank you so much…"
Myeong, ever the professional, interjected coolly. "S-so you immediately thought of Director Hyeonjae Woo and actress Myeong Yu...?"
I nodded, utterly confident. "Yes. I begged the production company and said it had to be them, no matter what. I'm positive Two Women will be a hit, working with these two." Soojan's face lit up in a tiny, inner "WOW..."
The conversation soon took a sharp turn. Myeong, the actress, made a veiled comment, and I frantically tried to assure everyone that my professional relationship with Director Woo was just that—professional. My attempts were futile. Myeong then leaned back, that wicked smirk on her face. "Are you having fun?"
The tension shattered when poor Soojan had a meltdown, coughing, cursing under her breath, and spilling her coffee before bolting for the bathroom.
"Yes, take your time!" I called out, then turned to Myeong, forcing a bright smile. "Myeong, when was the last time we all saw each other? It's been a long time since it was just the three of us!"
Myeong's smile was like a knife. "Gosh, I don't know. The day you kissed someone else's man?"
That brutal memory stopped me dead. Director Woo stood abruptly, and Myeong ignored me completely, telling him, "Let's clean this up, Director Woo." She looked down at the mess, her mouth twisted in a SCOFF. "What can you even do at this point?" she seemed to ask the spilled mess, but I knew the question was for me.
As Myeong walked away, her words echoed in my mind. Can I really fight back and win? I felt my spirit sink. I'm not that strong of a person…
Later, outside, I met the man with the white hair.
"I have nothing," I confessed to him, broken.
He looked at me with conviction. "You're a strong person, Myeong." When he saw my doubt, he repeated it. "I'll be with you until the end. Even if this path you're on leads to the edge of a cliff."
"...Do managers usually go that far?" I asked softly, a smile finally returning to my face as he made a bold statement: "It's because I love… the way you smile in front of the camera. Until everyone in the world dreams of you…"
I was stunned. "W-WHAT???"
He stepped back and said simply, "Then I'll be waiting in the car." He turned to leave, but his words lingered: "What if I lose?" I had asked him. "Then you can get up and fight again."
I knew what I had to do. With someone finally on my side, I couldn't afford to be weak
The meeting began in a burst of nervous excitement. The man beside the writer, Yena, was practically vibrating with awe. "...and beautiful A-actresses… is an incredible honor…!!" he finished, his face flushed.
I beamed, clapping my hands. "The honor's all mine! I-I was lucky enough to win an award for the screenplay…" I said, my voice full of enthusiasm.
Yena, the writer, offered a timid introduction. "H-hello… I-I'm Yena, I wrote the screenplay for Two Women…" She paused, gathering her courage. My rival, the actress Myeong, sat quietly beside me. Yena continued, "I-I'm sure you've read it, but… Two Women is about… two women who seem to be total opposites, but are more alike than they think…"
My eyes sparkled. "As soon as I read your screenplay, I immediately thought of a director and actress who would be perfect for it…" I made a determined fist. "And I was like, 'THIS NEEDS TO BE MADE INTO A MOVIE!'"
Yena looked shocked and pleased. "Gosh… Thank you so much…"
Myeong, ever the professional, interjected coolly. "S-so you immediately thought of Director Hyeonjae Woo and actress Myeong Yu...?"
I nodded, utterly confident. "Yes. I begged the production company and said it had to be them, no matter what. I'm positive Two Women will be a hit, working with these two." Yena's face lit up in a tiny, inner "WOW..."
💥 The Day You Kissed
The conversation soon took a sharp turn. Myeong, the actress, made a veiled comment, and I frantically tried to assure everyone that my professional relationship with Director Woo was just that—professional. My attempts were futile. Myeong then leaned back, that wicked smirk on her face. "Are you having fun?"
The tension shattered when poor Yena had a meltdown, coughing, cursing under her breath, and spilling her coffee before bolting for the bathroom.
"Yes, take your time!" I called out, then turned to Myeong, forcing a bright smile. "Myeong, when was the last time we all saw each other? It's been a long time since it was just the three of us!"
Myeong's smile was like a knife. "Gosh, I don't know. The day you kissed someone else's man?"
That brutal memory stopped me dead. Director Woo stood abruptly, and Myeong ignored me completely, telling him, "Let's clean this up, Director Woo." She looked down at the mess, her mouth twisted in a SCOFF. "What can you even do at this point?" she seemed to ask the spilled mess, but I knew the question was for me.
As Myeong walked away, her words echoed in my mind. Can I really fight back and win? I felt my spirit sink. I'm not that strong of a person…
Later, outside, I met the man with the white hair.
"I have nothing," I confessed to him, broken.
He looked at me with conviction. "You're a strong person, Myeong." When he saw my doubt, he repeated it. "I'll be with you until the end. Even if this path you're on leads to the edge of a cliff."
"...Do managers usually go that far?" I asked softly, a smile finally returning to my face as he made a bold statement: "It's because I love… the way you smile in front of the camera. Until everyone in the world dreams of you…"
I was stunned. "W-WHAT???"
He stepped back and said simply, "Then I'll be waiting in the car." He turned to leave, but his words lingered: "What if I lose?" I had asked him. "Then you can get up and fight again."
I knew what I had to do. With someone finally on my side, I couldn't afford to be weak.
I ran into the handsome man with the white hair—my manager. My emotions were raw from Myeong's veiled threat and the coffee spill.
"I have nothing," I confessed, the weight of the moment crashing down. "Can you give me your hand?"
He looked at me with conviction, holding up a silver lighter engraved with a star and the letters 'DEAR. M'. "I don't want to force you to do anything," he said. "But I want to support you in any way I can."
"What if I lose?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear.
His voice was steady, the assurance I desperately needed. "Then you can get up and fight again. So you can fight as hard as you want."
He added, his expression intense, "Because you haven't run away from the thorny path of being an actor."
"This is…" I trailed off, looking from him to the lighter in my hand, feeling a flicker of hope.
"You're a strong person, Myeong," he stated firmly. My manager must have seen the doubt in my eyes, I thought. He's trying to lift my spirits.
"I'll be with you until the end," he promised. "Even if this path you're on leads to the edge of a cliff."
I had to smile, despite everything. "...Do managers usually go that far?"
He didn't hesitate. "It's because I love… the way you smile in front of the camera. Until everyone in the world dreams of you…"
I was stunned. "W-WHAT???"
In any case, after he said that, he went back to being his formal self with that blank expression. "Then I'll be waiting in the car," he said simply.
I took a deep breath. I couldn't tell if he was confessing his feelings for me… or trying to comfort me for the benefit of the company.
I looked at the lighter in my hand. Whatever Manager Eun's real feelings may be... I gripped the lighter tightly, igniting the tiny flame. Remember that I'm on your side.
"Alright." I took a final drag from my cigarette and flicked the lighter shut, the decision made. I was going to fight.
I started walking away from the location, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heat of the earlier confrontation. My hand still felt the cool metal of the lighter the manager had given me.
I still don't know what his motives are, or what kind of person he truly is.... Is he a friend? A lover? Or just another actor in the business world?.
I took a deep breath. It didn't matter. Not right now.
What matters is that I have to succeed now. I have to step forward, not backward.
The manager's words echoed in my head: "Then you can get up and fight again."
I felt the ground shift under my feet, no longer feeling defeated, but energized. The path ahead was still murky, but I had a clear goal.
Yes, I may have a lot to lose, and Myeong is a formidable enemy. But I will fight to make this movie, 'Two Women,' a success. I'll use everything I have, even if it feels reckless.
My manager was right. I was stronger than I thought. I wouldn't run away from the thorny path of being an actor.
I put my hands in my pockets, the silver lighter a heavy, reassuring weight in my palm. My eyes, now steady and focused, looked toward the future.
Myeong walked down the polished hallway, her face impassive but her eyes alight with cool calculation. The phone was pressed to her ear, the conversation quiet but intense.
"...You can't just stop, because you think that little bit of trouble will affect you," she said into the phone, her voice low and sharp. She listened for a moment, then exhaled a tiny, frustrated breath. "I'm not a fan of doing things the easy way."
She paused, turning a corner. He's always like that, she thought, a sneer twisting her lips. Always hesitant, always protecting himself.
Her mind drifted back to the actress who was getting ready to star in Two Women—the one Myeong herself was meant to work with. The one she'd just unsettled with that painful memory.
I have to get my career back to the way it was before, Myeong thought fiercely. No one can get in my way, not even 'I'.
A shadow fell over her face as she remembered an old, shared moment—a memory of the two actresses smiling brightly together in an earlier, innocent time. I can't believe how much time has passed since then, Myeong mused darkly. I wish I could go back to those days.
The wistful thought was quickly replaced by steel. But since I can't, I have to crush anyone who tries to take what's mine.
She continued her conversation. "Anyway, if you help me out this time, I'll work with you on the next project, no questions asked". She tilted her head, a confident, predatory smile forming. "It's too much trouble for me to do everything myself."
Myeong hung up, her gaze hardening. There is no room for weakness now. She walked on, leaving the warmth of the building behind her, prepared to fight for her place in the spotlight.
The chill wind whipped around us on the exposed rooftop, carrying the scent of asphalt and the faint, acrid smoke of a freshly lit cigarette. I was pressed close to the person in front of me, seeking a shield I wasn't sure would hold. My eyes, wide with a fear I struggled to control, peered past their shoulder. I could see the city skyline, a stark, indifferent backdrop to the sudden, unsettling silence that had fallen.
Then, there was him.
A sound cut through the silence—a sharp, almost electrical noise. "FLICK! CRACKLE," the sound effect seemed to reverberate in the air, a precursor to the real danger. I dared a glance. His face was a study in cold, detached beauty. His eyes, an unsettling shade of violet or deep red, were narrowed in a predatory squint, assessing us with unnerving calm. White, impeccably styled hair framed a face that was both handsome and menacing.
I felt a paralyzing weight of dread as he finally lifted his head completely. He was a striking figure, impossibly cool in this moment of high tension. He wore a sharply tailored black suit jacket over a black turtleneck, a choice that made his pale skin and silver hair seem even more starkly prominent. A cigarette, dangling casually from his lips, finished the picture of lethal confidence. He wasn't just standing there; he was a silent, powerful promise of trouble. I knew, with a certainty that iced my blood, that we were in danger. His gaze was fixed on us, and whatever came next would be at his command.