The First Broadcast
May was Family Month—and, along with that, the month when school packed in the most events.
"As I said before, we've decided on Ronde World this time. So everyone show up on time, and that's all. Work hard in class."
Ms. Shin Haseon left only that brief announcement before walking out of the classroom.
I sat there, zoning out.
Ronde World? We're going to an amusement park?
When had that been decided?
I had never received that information. Never even heard it.
I stayed put, not moving, until Kim Woojin in the seat beside me spoke up.
"Hey, you okay? What's wrong?"
"No… Ronde World. Why?"
"…Ah. You weren't at school then."
I had, after all, taken two full weeks off before coming back.
Two weeks wasn't nothing, but I had figured nothing major would come of it.
I hadn't even known about a major school event.
I couldn't remember the last time I had gone to an amusement park.
If I traced back the most recent memory, I had to go all the way to my previous life—and even then, back to my school days, nearly ten years.
Even in this life as a girl, I had no memory of an amusement park. Not with family. Not with school.
My heart gave a little kick.
The thought of going to an amusement park after so long made my chest thump.
What day was it?
I dug through the stack of flyers crammed in my desk drawer until I found the one about the field trip.
And then.
"…Huh?"
Next Friday?
May tenth. In other words, the day after Ghost Singer's first broadcast tonight.
Just appearing in a drama wouldn't make me famous overnight. Still, the agency had told me more than once to be careful.
Eh… it'll be fine, right?
Surely nobody would recognize me from the very first episode.
Without giving it much more thought, I sat through class, caught up on the performance assessments I'd fallen behind on, and enjoyed being at school again.
"Hah… hah… I—I'm dying…"
My breathing was ragged, and my legs felt like someone had strapped boulders to them.
P.E.
The rest of the class had already finished the shuttle-run assessment and were off playing. I was still running the twenty-meter laps alone.
Beep!
The signal sounded the instant I reached the line.
I spun and ran again.
"Don't slow down! Run faster!"
"Yeees…"
I didn't even have the breath to answer properly. I just flailed my arms and kept going.
"Stop! Lee Jiwoo, seventeen."
Lowest possible score.
The P.E. teacher came over to where I had collapsed on the field.
"You okay?"
"Yeees…"
"Your stamina's really dropped. Seventeen puts you below elementary-school level."
"Ha… haha…"
My face was smiling. I was not smiling.
I already knew my stamina was hopeless. The Status Window reminded me every single day.
I had still thought I'd raised it enough to at least hit middle-school level.
I had not expected to come in below elementary school.
It wasn't so much embarrassment as a raw, writhing shame.
Not that I had the strength left to writhe.
"Don't rest here. Go sit in the shade."
"…Yeees."
With the P.E. teacher's help, I dragged myself into the shade, and from there I could only stare at the sky until the period ended.
"Hey! Pass it here! Pass it!"
"Shut up, you butterfoot!"
"Block him! Just body-block him!"
The boys in my class were playing soccer out on the field.
The girls had gone to the gym, apparently; I didn't see them anywhere.
Soccer…
I was jealous.
If I only had the stamina, I would have wanted to play too. Not to brag, but—
In my previous life, my nickname had been Little Ronaldo.
Then.
"Hey! Look out!"
"…Huh?"
By the time I snapped back, the soccer ball was swelling in my vision.
My head screamed at me to dodge.
My body said it couldn't.
So what happened?
What happened was, I got hit!
Thwack!
My neck snapped back, I went down, and the world went dark.
That evening.
At last, the historic hour had arrived. There was about an hour left until the premiere of Ghost Singer.
For that reason, rumors had been circulating for a while that it would go head-to-head with an OTT drama airing in the same time slot.
The actors had posted on their own social media to promote the show.
Guests and regulars on other programs had plugged it too.
I would have liked to join the promotion myself, but nobody knew who I was, so it would have been pointless.
Screech.
A van pulled into the parking lot of a barbecue restaurant.
It was a three-story beef house, and the entire Ghost Singer team had rented it for the night.
This was where the premiere party was being held.
The van door slid open, and Jiwoo—dressed just enough for the occasion—stepped out.
"Jiwoo, your face… are you sure? I can tell them. We can skip tonight."
"I'm fine. If I skip a night like this, what would everyone think? And I'm… a rookie. I should be here as much as I can."
The swelling in my face had gone down completely, but the mark from the soccer ball was still there.
Just a little scrape on the lip.
Beyond that, I only looked like I might have a mild concussion. Nothing else was wrong.
"No matter how I think about it, it pisses me off. I ought to grab that kid and—"
"Calm down. He didn't do it on purpose. People make mistakes when they're playing soccer."
The boy who had kicked the ball into my face had already apologized.
Kang Hoyeon had come flying over the moment she heard I'd gone down, and the look she gave him had been so fierce that he'd apologized in a state of near-panic.
I wasn't even that angry. People make mistakes.
"Hah… fine. Just be more careful next time."
"Okay. Let's go in. Everyone's probably waiting."
"Hold on."
Kang Hoyeon stopped me as I started inside.
Her eyes held tension, and expectation along with it.
"How do you feel right now? The premiere's almost here."
What should I say?
Alright. I'd be honest.
"I'm excited."
About the meat.
The beef, specifically.
I was already starting to drool.
Seeing the complete absence of nerves on my face, Kang Hoyeon laughed freely and went into the restaurant with me.
We had meant to arrive early, but we were apparently last; the drinking was already in full swing.
"Oh? Jiwoo's here!"
"Come on in!"
"Jiwoo, how does it feel? Everyone's trying to figure out who the new actress is, you know?"
Staff clustered around me in an instant. I had no idea how to respond, but I dealt with them one by one anyway.
Soon enough, one of them pointed upstairs.
"The first floor is for staff. The actors and the PD are on the second. Go on up."
Business downstairs was done, so I should get to the second floor—and with Kang Hoyeon's help, I made it up quickly.
Without her, a few of the staff old enough to be my father would have latched on and never let go.
The second floor was less noisy than the first, but a lively drinking party was still in progress.
Along the long tables, the leads, supporting actors, and bit players had each taken their own clusters of seats.
I was supporting cast, so I started toward that side—and then.
"Jiwoo! Over here!"
PD Kang Wonseong had spotted me and was waving.
"Everyone! Our Kang Sora has arrived!"
"Welcome!"
"Come sit over here!"
The two leads seated beside PD Kang Wonseong—Choi Chun-sung and Jin Joo-hwa—pointed to the empty spots next to them.
Last of all, Writer Kim Eun-joo beckoned.
"Jiwoo! Here! Over here!"
She called me over.
I made my way forward slowly, greeting the other actors as I went, and finally sat down beside Writer Kim Eun-joo.
However much they had already drunk, empty bottles were rolling around on the table.
"Jiwoo~! Thanks to you, my drama is alive~!"
Reeking of alcohol, she pulled me into a hug.
"I didn't do anything. Everyone helped, and you all shot it so well."
"How does she talk like that? Your parents must dote on you."
My parents…
They did dote on me. Lately, though, it had started to feel like too much.
I still dropped by on weekends, but if a schedule kept me away, the next day I would get a phone call with crying on the other end.
"Well… everyone's doing great…"
"The commercials are on!"
We had only just finished greeting each other, and somehow an hour had already passed.
At one actor's words, every gaze in the room swung toward the TV that had been turned our way.
Any moment now, my first drama would be on the air.
My heart kicked again.
What is this? Why am I getting nervous now?
Until a second ago it had been pounding with fun and love of beef. Now my palms were starting to sweat.
"Ugh… I'm shaking!"
"E-everyone, don't be n-nervous!"
"You're the most nervous one here! Then how about we take the edge off with… that?"
"That? I'm in! I'll take seven percent for eighty bucks!"
A strange little game broke out.
Seven percent? Eighty bucks?
What was all this?
Meanwhile the actors kept betting, and the numbers ranged as high as fifteen percent and as low as three.
And then there was one person left.
Me.
"Jiwoo? What do you think the ratings will be?"
"The… ratings?"
Ah. I got it.
They were betting on how high the viewership would go.
I thought it over.
In my previous life, when Ghost Singer had aired, the ratings… hadn't been high.
Just decent?
I didn't remember exactly, but that was how I recalled it.
Ugh… I don't know.
I'd just go with the highest number.
"I'll put forty bucks on twenty-five percent."
A brief silence—then laughter filled the restaurant.
"Hahaha! Twenty-five percent? Nobody gets numbers like that these days. And in episode one!"
"When was the last time something even crossed twenty percent at the end? That had to be ages ago."
Honestly, I didn't know either. I had just shouted it to keep the mood up.
Losing forty bucks stung a little, but the beef we were eating here already cost more than that.
We'll call it even.
I reached for my long-awaited first piece of meat—
and the drama started on the TV.
"I—it's on!"
My eyes went to the screen.
The commercials ended, the title of Ghost Singer appeared, and—
"It started."
The first broadcast had begun.