The Taste of Cliché Is Viciously Addictive

The taste of cliché was viciously addictive. She knew exactly how the story would play out, and yet the show refused to show even a trailer — it was driving her half-mad with frustration.

Ae-ta-mi scrolled through the comments. Before she'd noticed, it wasn't just reactions to the story anymore — character analysis posts were starting to appear.

Episode two had only gone up yesterday, and the view count was already climbing without pause.

"Why is it growing this fast?"

The pace was anything but ordinary. It hadn't even been an hour since the upload, and the comments had already blown past a hundred.

Ae-ta-mi slipped instinctively into analysis mode.

"Well, I guess it makes sense."

First of all, the accessibility was almost absurdly good, and on top of that it had twisted the clichés exactly the right way.

No work had ever captured the cringe of shoujo manga and its K-teen imitators through a third party's eyes — through a gaze close to the viewer's own.

"There's never been a character like Pi Chae-won."

She clearly wasn't the only one thinking it. The comment section of Pachehi was buzzing with activity.

"Ahh, anyway, I can't wait. Finally something worth watching again!"

Before Pachehi had even finished, Ae-ta-mi posted another tweet.

She wanted to keep talking about it. What parts she'd loved today, where she thought the story would go next — her fingers were itching.

Mouth clamped shut as she rewatched today's episode, Ae-ta-mi reached out to her friend, the ever-reliable B.

Without even realizing it, Ae-ta-mi had blasted straight through stage five of obsessive immersion. She was a completely different person from the one who'd only watched the trailer.

I opened the status window. The mission was still incomplete.

"It comes down to shares. Shares…."

View counts and share counts were two separate problems. I could get the InTube analytics through Team Leader Seong.

"It's hovering just above two hundred right now…."

Still not enough. But there was one thing I could be sure of.

"The final episode is guaranteed to break a thousand shares."

Once people saw my performance in the last episode, sharing it would be inevitable. Which meant…

I folded the status window away and checked my SNS.

"It grows every single day!!!"

The notifications were stacked so high the inbox was about to burst.

"Soon I'll… break ten thousand."

The number was so humbling I could have cried. On the photos I'd taken at the shoot, people who'd enjoyed Pachehi had come by to leave comments.

"So this is… the taste of a lead role…."

It was so sweet my heart raced. The rush of feeling myself truly grow made my head ring.

This was attention I'd never once received before. Not just on social media — more and more people were recognizing me at school too.

"Hey! Han Yeo-reum!"

Dami came sprinting toward me from across the yard. Thanks to Pachehi uploading every weekend, Monday had barely begun before congratulations started pouring in from all directions.

"What are you? Who told you to be so good at acting!"

"Say it louder for me, Dami."

"And what's with the dead-fish eyes? I thought you were fresh out of a Lee Myung-bak documentary!"

Classmates started gathering around us. I worked hard on my expression management. It was a real struggle to keep the corners of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my mouth from climbing too high.

"That was pretty fun, actually. My friend watched it too."

"Han Yeo-reum~. Celebrity~."

Just then, someone called out Do Gyeo-ul's name.

"Gyeo-ul! Did you watch Pachehi too?"

I fought down the flinch that nearly escaped my body.

Why does she have to come calling again…? I was the one being talked about here….

I looked up at Do Gyeo-ul, who had emerged from across the yard and met my eyes. As always, she smiled serenely.

"What's that?"

At those words from Do Gyeo-ul, Dami whipped out her tablet instantly.

"This! The web drama Yeo-reum stars in!"

"Ah…. A web drama."

My soaring feeling plummeted in a vertical drop — felled by a single reaction from Do Gyeo-ul.

The lively atmosphere around us quieted right along with it.

"I don't really know much about web dramas. I'll be sure to catch up sometime."

"Well, of course — Gyeo-ul's a movie actress."

"God, I'm so jealous I could die. When are we ever going to get to be in a movie?"

In an instant, the spotlight swung back around to Do Gyeo-ul.

I'd told myself I wouldn't react to every little thing like this. But something surged up hot in my chest.

Is a movie actress the be-all and end-all?

Right. It probably was. In front of a movie actress, a web drama lead was nothing at all.

You get to make movies…. I'll make them too…. I swear I will….

But the deflation didn't last long. This situation was nothing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like the old days when all I could do was envy Do Gyeo-ul from afar.

My head filled instead with the next schedule.

I've wrapped one web drama, so I want to lock down the next gig fast — but maybe because I've only ever worked as an extra, I'm not really sure how to go about landing anything else.

For starters….

"Hey there."

"Oh! You startled me."

Someone had spoken to me from behind as I walked along, lost in my own head. A wonderful fragrance — and an even more wonderful voice.

"Where are you off to, Yeo-reum?"

It was Myeong Je-ha.

Myeong Je-ha stared at Yeo-reum, who was shoveling whipped cream into her mouth like it was a bowl of gukbap.

Pachehi had exceeded even Je-ha's expectations. Before the regression — that is, in the original timeline — Pachehi had never commanded this kind of reach, despite the same script, the same director, the same edit.

What impresses me most is that she managed to rope in Jegal Rok himself.

Which meant all of this was Han Yeo-reum's own ability.

Je-ha tapped the table lightly with a fingertip, as if settling some thought, then broke into a faint smile.

"I can more or less guess why you picked a web drama. You're good."

That single word of praise melted the tense look on Yeo-reum's face.

"Would you… be willing to share your impressions in a little more detail…?"

"What's with the tone?"

"Well, I've lived considerably less of life than you have, after all. Pardon my asking, but how old are you…?"

Excessive politeness had a way of getting under people's skin. Je-ha's expression stiffened.

"I have a favor to ask, sir. And I'd really, really appreciate it if you'd hear me out."

"Yeo-reum. Take the good advice and just talk like you normally do."

"Come on. Help me out here."

She was the one who'd called him to ask for something, and yet Yeo-reum plunged straight into business without ceremony.

"You get a lot of scripts coming your way, right? Even if you turn them down, your agency's got stacks of them lying around. Couldn't I take a look at some of those?"

"Scripts? What kind of scripts?"

"Any of them. Anything works! Ideally something that's going to be a hit. I've got no agency right now, and I've got zero connections to help me."

Yeo-reum's eyes sparkled with desperate longing. There was something decidedly crafty about the posture.

"If you could pass along audition notices too…. I honestly couldn't be more grateful."

She even leaned her whole body toward Myeong Je-ha across the table.

Where was all this desperate energy when she was fleeing from me at every turn?

She was more of an opportunistic little schemer than she looked. Then again, this beat chasing her around while she ran for her life.

"Stumbling into auditions with no information at all is just a waste of time. I need to get big fast. It's urgent."

"What has you in such a hurry?"

Je-ha tilted his head and asked in a soft voice.

Yeo-reum answered his question without a second's hesitation, dead serious.

"Because I want to become more famous than Do Gyeo-ul."

Why her, of all people?

The fundamental question rose in Je-ha's mind, but he decided to unravel it in due time.

There's plenty of time for that anyway.

For Myeong Je-ha, more than for anyone.

"Fine. Sending you scripts isn't hard."

"Thank you…. Thank you so much…."

"What about Ju Jun-seo?"

What Je-ha wanted to know right now was this: just how much of the board was Han Yeo-reum going to rearrange.