Chapter 224: Fairy (1)
Chapter 224: Fairy (1)
It happened in an instant.
The moment Ji-yeon’s head collided with Seo-yeon’s, she shouted that line.
‘Was that line in the script?’
‘No, I’m pretty sure the script didn’t have anything like that.’
‘Then was it all an ad-lib?’
The staff members exchanged glances, whispering among themselves.
They couldn't help it.
The moment Ji-yeon fell and headbutted Seo-yeon, it was already an NG. The scene hadn't been blocked with that kind of accident in mind.
However, with Ji-yeon’s line, the previously suffocating atmosphere suddenly thinned and grew lighter. There was no better way to break up the fight between the two. For Yeon Seon-ye—a character who had lacked presence until now and was caught between both sides—it was exactly the kind of action she would take.
Furthermore, the reason the staff were confused about whether it was an ad-lib was that it didn't stop at just one line.
“I’ve hated you for a long time, you wicked woman! My lady, stay right there. I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!”
As she spoke, she grabbed the hair of Yuina, who had just taken a headbutt to the face, and they both tumbled across the floor. As they rolled, she whispered to Yuina as if talking to herself. The sequence of lines was so natural that it felt as if they had been in the script all along.
Even Director Baek Min, who knew the script inside and out, momentarily looked back at his copy. The lines and the acting were just that perfect for the play.
‘Her situational judgment is excellent.’
Director Baek Min lowered the hand he had raised to call an NG and looked at Ji-yeon with new eyes.
To be honest, Director Baek Min hadn't rated Ji-yeon’s acting as highly as Seo-yeon’s or Jo Seo-hee’s. Her acting wasn't bad; compared to other actors her age, she was certainly talented enough. But by Director Baek Min’s standards, being "good for her age" was never enough for a passing grade.
‘But the colors she showed during the audition were a perfect fit for Yeon Seon-ye.’
A relatively plain style of acting. That was why she suited Yeon Seon-ye. On top of that, her unique, airy aura had quite appealed to him.
‘I suppose you could call it reaction speed. She knows how to handle a crisis when it strikes.’
Of course, knowing what to do and actually doing it instantly are two very different things. Even Jo Seo-hee and Seo-yeon had been momentarily flustered by the sudden accident. The reason the scene could continue was that Lee Ji-yeon immediately shouted a "line" that fit the drama—a line that could pull a derailed script back into the original scene.
From the moment of the headbutt, all of Yeon Seon-ye’s lines were Lee Ji-yeon’s ad-libs. Every single one from that point on.
“No, are you crazy? Do you want to see me dead? What on earth is happening in broad daylight? Why don't you just go ahead and blab to everyone that I was smuggled in here to take your head?”
At this point in the story, Yeon Seon-ye hadn't yet been caught by Michiko as the person Yuina had planted. Michiko had a vague suspicion, but Seon-ye hadn't revealed it herself.
However, the line Yuina had just spat out, combined with the emotions Seo-yeon had interpreted, had made the situation incredibly meaningful. When Yuina said she had everything, her gaze had swept over Yeon Seon-ye.
That part, of course, hadn't been in the script. Seo-yeon had likely interpreted it as, ‘This is what Yuina would have done.’
Yuina’s hand, which had been about to strike back, faltered as she looked at Yeon Seon-ye. Seeing her gaze, Seon-ye decided to double down since things had already come to this; she headbutted Yuina once more, and the two of them went rolling away together.
“Look at my lady, her beautiful clothes are all ruined!”
“Se-Seon-ye. Your head is bleeding.”
“Agh, I know! Ow, that really hurts. How is your head so hard, My Lady? Just a moment.”
Yeon Seon-ye roughly wiped her forehead with her sleeve and then reached out a hand toward Michiko.
“My lady, take my hand.”
“Wh-what?”
“Are you just going to stay there? Are you going to keep fighting with all these people watching? Ah, she’s glaring at us! Hurry up and take my hand, what are you doing?”
At Seon-ye’s urgent words, Michiko looked back and forth between Seon-ye’s outstretched hand and Yuina’s bewildered face.
And then.
“Hmph, what a pathetic sight. Fine, let’s go, Seon-ye.”
She took the hand and stood up. Led by Seon-ye, she ran through the crowd. As they held hands, they both burst into laughter despite themselves.
The two of them ran, weaving through the throng of people. The cameras instinctively followed them. A few remaining cameras captured Yuina watching their retreating backs with a complicated expression.
But that was only for a moment. Yuina, watching the two disappear completely, let out a short laugh.
“Well, this turned into quite a ridiculous spectacle.”
The surrounding crowd—the extras—looked at her with bewildered eyes. Those expressions were likely not acting. After all, the entire sequence of events consisted of lines and scenes that weren't in the script.
Or rather, they were there, but they certainly weren't supposed to feel like this.
“What are you looking at?”
Yuina snapped at the crowd watching her. Startled, the crowd quickly dispersed. Yuina then picked up her long pipe, which had fallen among the people.
“……For me, too.”
She cast one last glance in the direction Seon-ye and Michiko had vanished, then slowly turned her back. Her lonely silhouette stood in stark contrast to the two who had run away laughing and holding hands.
The cameras captured that image, and the scene came to a close.
*
Looking back at the finished product, the content was technically the same as the script: Yeon Seon-ye leading a disheveled Michiko away, and Yuina watching them with a complicated gaze.
However, Michiko and Yeon Seon-ye running away with playful laughter while holding hands, and Yuina’s meaningful final line—these were elements not in the script, but newly reinterpreted.
More than anything.
“Yeon Seon-ye’s lines were all ad-libs, right?”
“Seriously? No, they were so natural I thought they were in the script. And the fall wasn't acting, she really fell, right?”
“I thought, ‘Oh no, we messed up,’ but then…”
To think she could immediately pivot into such natural dialogue.
Ju Seo-yeon and Jo Seo-hee. The acting of those two had raised the immersion to such an extreme level that it was difficult for another actor to break in. If Yeon Seon-ye had simply stepped in to block Michiko as originally intended, the picture would have looked very strange. It would have fit the scene, but it wouldn't have given her the impact a protagonist needed.
But she had turned this simple accident into a ‘protagonist’s’ action.
“Even if Yeon Seon-ye’s lines were all ad-libs… the two who received them were amazing as well.”
“Those two even slightly changed the nuances of the lines that were in the script.”
That was why the scene flowed so naturally. The altered elements were immediately corrected by Yeon Seon-ye’s spontaneous dialogue.
“Wow, this shot is incredible. Look at this.”
The camera director spoke with a smile, showing the footage of Michiko and Yeon Seon-ye running away.
“This came out so well, didn't it?”
“There’s no music, but why do I feel like I can hear it?”
“Ah, I thought the same thing. This really is a romance. It really is.”
It was a massive hit with the staff. Even the actors were surprised by how well the scene turned out when they saw the footage.
Of course, regardless of that.
“I-I’m so sorry. I strayed so far from the script…”
Ji-yeon crept up to Director Baek Min and apologized. For the record, she had a bandage wrapped around her head. It seemed the injury from headbutting Seo-yeon’s face was real.
It was a bit of a mystery why Seo-yeon, who had been hit in the face and head once each, was perfectly fine, while Ji-yeon, who had done the headbutting twice, ended up with a gash.
‘Tough little brat.’
Of course, Ji-yeon didn't care about an injury like that. What mattered was whether Director Baek Min would accept the performance or not.
‘What if he tells us to reshoot?’
Whatever the reason, Ji-yeon had performed in a way that deviated from the script and the emotional tone Director Baek Min had intended. Regardless of how brilliant the ad-lib was, it was still a mistake. If actors just did whatever they thought was better, why would you even need a director?
As Ji-yeon bowed her head, Director Baek Min looked lost in thought. Naturally, the staff who had been laughing while watching the footage stiffened.
‘He’s not going to make them reshoot, is he?’
‘Knowing Director Baek Min, it’s more common for him to want a reshoot.’
‘Man, it would be such a waste of a great scene.’
As everyone watched Baek Min with bated breath, he seemed to sense the atmosphere and let out a dry laugh.
“Just how do you all see me? I’m not reshooting. We’re not doing it again. It’s a great scene. Yes, honestly, I shouted ‘NG’ in my head a hundred times, but this is right. Of course, aside from that…”
Baek Min patted Ji-yeon on the shoulder.
“I’m going to let it slide since that performance started from an accident. And in the end, the lines were meant to bring it back to the original script. It’s just that the emotional tone of the scene feels different from what I originally intended to direct.”
Originally, it was supposed to feel heavier. Emotional excess. A part that pushed that element to the limit. But while that element had thinned out slightly, the scene’s overall quality had improved. He actually quite liked Yuina’s emotions, which were revealed subtly rather than overtly.
As Baek Min was thinking this, someone approached him.
“Young actors these days are quite frightening, aren't they? It’s truly surprising when I think back to when I was young.”
It was the actor Lee Sang-soo. He spoke up to settle the unsettled atmosphere once the situation seemed resolved. He was worried Baek Min might change his mind.
“……Indeed. It’s also fascinating how each of them has such different colors.”
Clearly, the performance that shone the brightest was Seo-yeon’s. Even that final line.
‘Yes, if it were Yuina, she definitely would have said that.’
That line was exactly the sentiment Baek Min had wanted. Something more complex and heavy. Unlike the other two, Yuina alone had remained within Baek Min’s vision. That was why he had let it go. The core emotion, the most important part, was what he had intended.
‘She must have been aware of that when she acted.’
The lightened atmosphere. The relaxed acting of Yeon Seon-ye and Michiko. A color that contrasted with them. Seo-yeon had likely known. She knew that Yuina shouldn't match their color, but should stick to the originally decided performance.
‘Lee Ji-yeon’s judgment was completely unexpected, but in Ju Seo-yeon’s case…… I suppose I should have expected it.’
She was just as fast. She must have been dazed after being hit in the face, yet she was already observing Ji-yeon’s acting with her eyes. It was as if she had anticipated that Ji-yeon might throw out an ad-lib.
Thinking that far, Baek Min gave a bright smile to Ji-yeon, who was still watching his reaction.
“Ji-yeon, Seo-yeon, you two said you’ve been friends for a long time, right?”
“Huh? Ah, yes. We’ve known each other since kindergarten.”
“I thought so.”
“……Pardon?”
“Haha, it’s nothing.”
Just as Seo-yeon had anticipated Ji-yeon’s ad-lib, Ji-yeon had likely subconsciously known that Seo-yeon would be able to handle it. He really liked the chemistry between the two.
More than anything.
‘That’s why there was more emotion when she ran away holding hands with Michiko.’
A complicated gaze. But the strongest thing revealed on the surface of those complex emotions was a sharp, pointed jealousy. Director Baek Min liked that more than anything else.
*
‘She’s totally Ramiel.’
Looking at Lee Ji-yeon running with Jo Seo-hee at the end, Seo-yeon couldn't help but overlap her with the 3D avatar. No, it might sound like she was obsessed, but she couldn't help it. After all, Yeon Seon-ye’s acting was based on Ramiel’s.
‘Ji-yeon really is good at handling situations.’
This was something she had known since her past life. Whether as a VTuber or just a regular YouTuber, one of the most important skills was the ability to handle unexpected situations. Since they broadcasted in real-time, embarrassing or startling things often happened.
Naturally, as Ramiel of ‘Seven Live’—the most successful VTuber group at the time—she had been involved in many incidents due to her immense popularity. Each time, Ramiel had cleverly navigated those situations.
‘So that’s how it shines when she’s doing ad-libs?’
Seo-yeon looked at Ji-yeon, who was sitting next to her, with a sharp gaze.
The day after filming ended. Ji-yeon looked unusually excited. Usually, Seo-yeon would go to Ji-yeon’s classroom after school, but today, Ji-yeon had come to find Seo-yeon first.
“Ju Seo-yeon, why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, my foot. It’s written all over your face.”
Ji-yeon was simply puzzled by Seo-yeon’s strangely sulky reaction. Even Ji-yeon couldn't possibly imagine that this reaction was related to Ramiel.
Of course, Seo-yeon wasn't actually genuinely upset. She was just showing it a little. Besides, that wasn't what was important right now.
Wiping the sulky expression from her face, Seo-yeon spoke in a slightly troubled voice.
“But what kind of flowers do people usually buy when visiting someone in the hospital? Lilies?”
“Why don't you just tell her to drop dead while you're at it?”
Ji-yeon let out a dry laugh. For the record, the place the two were heading was Jo Seo-hee’s house, which they had visited just a few days ago. As for why they were visiting her…
“You beat her up too hard.”
“……I didn't exactly beat her up.”
It was just acting. Besides, Jo Seo-hee was quite sturdy, so she had been fine even when thrown around a bit. Though she had thrown her a bit more violently than usual yesterday.
Anyway, Jo Seo-hee had been fine until the filming ended—perhaps the adrenaline was pumping—but she had collapsed as soon as it was over. Thus, Seo-yeon, the perpetrator (?), naturally found herself in a position where she had to go visit her.
“But the house is so big…… someone will come out if we ring the doorbell, right?”
Ji-yeon rang the doorbell of Jo Seo-hee’s front gate with a nonchalant face. Would the housekeeper they saw last time come out?
As the two waited with that thought.
“Who is it?”
A middle-aged man opened the door and stepped out. At the sight of him, Ji-yeon’s face took on an expression of trying to remember who he was.
Seo-yeon, on the other hand, couldn't help but freeze.
She couldn't help it. Seo-yeon possessed a memory that immediately brought up information on almost anyone involved in this industry. That memory immediately told her who the man in front of her was.
‘The Chairman of New Like Group.’
In other words, he was Jo Seo-hee’s father.