The Year's Final Table
There had been murmurs of that kind ever since the Romeo and Juliet production. Some people carried on as if Do Gyeo-ul had every right to skip class gatherings, yet shot disapproving looks whenever Han Yeo-reum was the one absent.
In other words, an unspoken hierarchy had settled over the classmates themselves — a quiet understanding that even among peers, rank applied.
"Oh, come on, no need to get all sensitive about it, Dami."
"Yeo-reum's talented, sure, but she also landed a great agency! So really, things worked out perfectly for her. Right?"
A few members of Team A, the ones who had shared the stage with Do Gyeo-ul, were floating on air ever since they'd been handed an agency business card a while back.
They seemed genuinely convinced that if they put their minds to it, they could catch up to someone like Han Yeo-reum in no time.
Not to Do Gyeo-ul's level, of course. But to Han Yeo-reum's? Easily.
…Without knowing a single thing.
But So Da-mi knew. She knew that Yeo-reum hadn't poured everything she had onto that stage.
"Who said Yeo-reum just got lucky with her agency?"
Honestly, none of them looked like they'd ever make it as actors. To put it coldly, that included So Da-mi herself. Hand them the same script, and the gap in their character analysis was heaven and earth.
"Her agency was the one that got lucky with her."
So Da-mi rose from her seat. Now she finally understood why Yeo-reum hadn't bothered to show up.
This is a waste of time.
Memorizing even one more line of dialogue would have been better use of an evening. Gatherings like this held no joy for her anymore.
"I'm heading out. Happy New Year, everyone!"
Without a flicker of regret, So Da-mi pushed back from the table, turned her back on the group, and walked out of the restaurant.
Her heart was racing. She wanted to catch up to Yeo-reum — quickly. She wanted to trade lines with her across a stage again, to feel once more that swelling conviction of having built something truly good together.
The way she had felt on that stage, that time.
An awkward chill settled over the restaurant. Even the classmates who had been quietly belittling Yeo-reum moments before knew exactly what they were feeling. They knew the name of it.
"Our Dami just can't let go of Romeo and Juliet, huh."
"Still doing method acting for the nanny role, apparently."
"Leave her be. She only came because we dragged her out of the practice room."
For some, even their debut date was a question mark. For another, articles about her JC ENM contract had graced the front pages of portal sites from the very day it was signed.
That single fact alone was enough to rattle the fragile twenties of everyone in that room.
"I'll talk to Dami separately later! What's with the mood in here — lighten up! Cheers, cheers! To all of our debuts!"
The classmate who had just locked eyes with So Da-mi raised her glass high. The heavy atmosphere evaporated, and the noise of the room swelled back to life. Glasses clinked amid shouts of "Cheers!"
"Eun-seol, what's wrong with your nails? Doesn't that hurt?"
Someone asked the moment the glasses touched — because her fingernails, wrapped around the rim of hers, were impossible to miss.
Her thumb was bitten down so short it seemed ready to dig into her skin.
"Ah… it's nothing. I have this habit of biting my nails."
"No way, me too! Oh, but hey — getting them done at a nail salon totally cures it. Come with me next time I go!"
The girl called Eun-seol nodded with a smile. Then she scooped up the pineapple sherbet that had been sitting as anju and slipped it into her mouth. A faint crunching echoed quietly inside it.
At last — the final schedule of the year. December 31st. Today was the year-end party, doubling as the wrap dinner for Faster Than the Law.
The year just… got deleted, like that.
I sank into the back seat of the car and drew a long, deep breath. But hey — this was what an entertainer's year-end looked like. I turned to the camera fixed in front of me and launched into a familiar one-sided monologue.
"And finally! Filming for Faster Than the Law has officially wrapped, so I'm off to crash the wrap party. To be honest, I only joined partway through shooting, back in the middle of summer, so I wasn't sure if I should even come to a wrap dinner like this — but I get to see the senior actors again, and the director, and all our wonderful crew members…."
Maybe I'd just been too busy these past few days, but why did I look so annoyingly fresh on camera? Well, can't skip the cute factor, either.
"The truth is, I've been starving all this time because of the dress I've been wearing. So at today's dinner, I am absolutely getting naengmyeon. Cold noodles, no matter what…."
Perfect. Adorable. That's our Han Yeo-reum for you.
"Yeo-reum, we're here!"
"Got it! Let me grab the camera."
I switched the camera off for a moment and took a deep breath. Since this was the wrap party, not just the crew but industry people would be there too.
So what's the key thing here?
I had to create an opening to complete my mission tonight. I called that absurd number to mind one more time.
Success Condition: Surpass 10 million moviegoers!
Just thinking about that mission makes my head spin….
The first Faster Than the Law had a different script than before my regression, but the message threading through the whole film hadn't changed. Influencer 1 had simply been given a slightly bigger role.
So the box office will have to ride on the other factors.
A dozen different things could make or break a movie's run. The baseline, of course, was the film's quality — but that really only decided whether it cleared its break-even point or not.
The stuff that actually matters starts after opening day.
And right now happened to be the era when the film industry — the one from before my regression — was at its peak. I knew exactly which fine margins separated a hit from a flop.
Let's do this!
I flung the car door open. The street blazed with light, as if celebrating the last day of the year alongside me.
"Hyung-nim, the whole point of you being here today is the behind-the-scenes content, right? Give me the signal at just the right moment and I'll jump straight in — you know how it works? Don't push yourself too hard, okay?"
"Yes, yes. Thank you."
Yoon Hyeon-jo straightened his clothes inside the van. This was no formal dinner with reporters in attendance, so there was exactly one reason he'd agreed to come at all.
"The self-shot content matters, I'm telling you! We have to lay out the bait. 'This movie is so much fun!' — that's the vibe, that's what we introduce. What is Faster Than the Law? Loyalty! Action! Fun! And doesn't that line up perfectly with the atmosphere of a wrap party?"
It was all because of Manager Ma and his passionate case for the importance of self-shot content. Yoon Hyeon-jo, a man who prized efficiency above all, nodded along.
"Yes. Fair enough."
"So sneak a few faces into the public eye before the movie even opens. Everyone watches InTube over TV these days, so we focus on InTube!"
"But wouldn't that differ from the materials you sent over?"
At that, Manager Ma — who had been talking a mile a minute — shut his mouth.
"You said the wrap-party content would be filmed during the first week after release. So why do I have to attend the wrap dinner too?"
Everyone nodded at Yoon Hyeon-jo's razor-sharp question.
"…Because the more you show up, the, uh… the better?"
"I will make an efficient selection and focus accordingly."
"Aagh, no! Come on! Do it for your junior — just show your face once! A heartwarming Faster Than the Law team, isn't that a great image? It photographs beautifully! And from what I've seen, there are a ton of scenes with Detective Kwak-Yoon and Yeo-reum together. When we circulate the press releases, I will mention you, Yoon Hyeon-jo-ssi, so gloriously you won't believe it."
There it was. His true colors. He wanted Yoon Hyeon-jo to appear in the vlog that revolved entirely around Han Yeo-reum. Everyone around them wore the same wistful, faraway look as they watched Manager Ma.
Ah, right… so there are still people alive who think that trick works on Yoon Hyeon-jo….
Takes me back. We had days like that too….
Wait, isn't Manager Ma a complete nutcase, though? What if he stages a one-man protest after getting rejected….
Whatever the reasoning, everyone was dead certain Yoon Hyeon-jo would refuse.
"Well, all right. Sure."
"WHAT?!"
Which was why the staff shrieked at his answer. Yoon Hyeon-jo calmly plugged one ear with a finger.
"What?"
Manager Ma, clearly never expecting to be accepted on the spot, blinked and asked him to repeat himself. Yoon Hyeon-jo's answer was simple.
"Just… seems like it'd be fun."
So it was that Yoon Hyeon-jo, attending a dinner table against all his habits, found himself quietly watching Yeo-reum, who had scurried over to bow her greetings the moment he walked in.
She'd dyed her hair since then, changed since those days — and yet she still looked exactly like Influencer 1. Han Yeo-reum had a way of seeming like a character who truly lived and breathed somewhere out in the world.
It really was fun, wasn't it….
Ad-libs remained one of Yoon Hyeon-jo's most hated things on earth.
"How dare you get ideas above your station! Who do you think you are — the director? The writer? Oh, aren't you impressive. Then go ahead and do everything yourself, why don't you."
Ever since his rookie days, when he'd watched a director rage through the very first table read of a script, he had avoided ad-libs with near-compulsive discipline. And yet, in Faster Than the Law, Yoon Hyeon-jo had improvised for the first time in his career.
Twice, no less.
And somehow, impossibly, it felt as though the picture quality of the entire production had sharpened because of it.
All because of the junior actor sitting across from him.
Yoon Hyeon-jo watched Yeo-reum, earnestly moving her chopsticks, and let the thought settle in his chest.