Whatever Helps, Use It
"I'm grateful, but… why, exactly?"
Myeong Je-ha gave a languid smile.
"I want to see how high you can climb. So be a good girl and cooperate, will you?"
So this is a threat. The smile on his face was a stark contrast to the shattered stat window hovering above his head.
"Why the sudden interest in watching me?"
"Hmm… Let's just say I'm a fan of yours, Han Yeo-reum."
"Quit messing around and tell me the real reason."
"I checked the final script Director Gong revised. This has never happened before, not once… but it looks like Director Gong intends to keep casting you in every installment of the series."
My eyes went wide at the unbelievable claim. Influencer 1 is a season-one-only character, though? That makes no sense. Are we even looking at the same script?
"You'll see it in the script. Trust me, go to the set and do well this time. Stay on Director Gong's good side. He's someone worth keeping close."
Analysis: S++
Myeong Je-ha's stats shimmered. Seriously? Am I really going to get supporting roles in a 10-million-viewer movie, over and over?
"So, will you promise me now?"
He and I both knew the other had regressed, but neither of us ever bothered to say it out loud.
"Time is the one thing I have plenty of…. Still, I'd like to cut down on the exhaustion a little. Let's get along, you and I."
It was his way of saying: stop rebelling pointlessly and join hands with me.
"Fine."
"I figured you'd run away once or twice, but you haven't."
I'd been prepared for this from the moment I regressed. Analyzing a script is actor basics 101. Of course I'd worked out how the story ahead was likely to unfold.
"You must have found something useful in me. You don't seem like the type to do anything that loses you money."
"Who knows…. Classmates should be good to each other, that's all."
Myeong Je-ha shared nothing about his past, and for my part I kept silent about the status window. Each of us holding exactly one secret.
"So? How are you going to help me?"
"Hmm…."
He considered it for a moment, then broke into a bright smile — a face that said he was genuinely pleased. A shadow pooled in his long lashes.
"In all sorts of ways."
The next day, I found out exactly what direction Myeong Je-ha's help was taking. It started with Dokgo Min's social media.
"She posted the shoot from yesterday right away, huh."
↳ …but I want him….
↳ lmaooo you're insane
There was Myeong Je-ha's photo, uploaded for the whole world to see. In a single day, the likes had blown past twenty thousand. And immediately after that, my photo went up — positioned right beside Myeong Je-ha's face.
Because the photo had been posted with zero gap after Myeong Je-ha's, the comments were flooding in faster than usual. And then the shot began making the rounds of the internet news sites at remarkable speed. I was certain the articles had been arranged on Myeong Je-ha's end.
Nearly every single article featuring Myeong Je-ha had my photo attached right alongside his.
"…So that the people who know Myeong Je-ha, come to know me too…."
His debut work had been a 10-million-viewer film — less than a year old, at that. That gave him recognition spanning from teenagers all the way to the elderly. Me, on the other hand? I was known almost exclusively among teens and twenty-somethings.
"Oh, so she came here yesterday for this shoot."
How long has he been planning this? Right. If he'd truly just wanted to talk, he would have called me in alone — not come to Dokgo Min's studio. From the start, he'd meant to put us on display, with or without my consent.
"And now what is this."
I was scrolling down my screen when a headline made me frown. Do Gyeo-ul's name kept intruding into the middle of the article titles.
I called Myeong Je-ha.
"It's you, isn't it? The articles. Right now."
"You checked fast."
"…I'll even thank you for linking me with you. But I don't like my name sitting next to Do Gyeo-ul's."
A small laugh carried over the line. Hey, I'm not being funny.
"Yeo-reum."
He said my name gently.
"You said you wanted to be more famous than Do Gyeo-ul. Apparently you don't want it all that badly."
That lit a flash of anger in me.
What is he talking about? Do you have any idea how desperate I am?
I couldn't bring up my life before the regression, and it was suffocating. Just as I opened my mouth to fire back—
"If you really want to make it, you use whatever there is to use."
Myeong Je-ha's voice had turned cold in an instant.
"Think it through, Yeo-reum. Do Gyeo-ul debuted at age five. The entire nation watched her grow up. Do you honestly think one or two hit projects can beat a bond like that?"
"…."
He wasn't wrong. He was so painfully right that I couldn't even answer. I just bit down on my lip until it ached.
Right. Do Gyeo-ul debuted at five and has spent her whole life acting however she pleased. So why, of all people, did she do it to me?
Even now, at only twenty, she has so much already.
The titles Do Gyeo-ul had accumulated floated through my mind.
"However much you hate Do Gyeo-ul, don't you dare dismiss her influence. Only an idiot does that."
"…And how do you know I hate Do Gyeo-ul—"
"I just know. I also know Jegal Rok has been debating whether to take you on."
His cold assessment continued.
"Right now you have no agency, no connections feeding you reliable information, no next project lined up. So your pride has to go too. Even if it means clinging to Do Gyeo-ul's name, you need to work at imprinting yours one more time in people's heads."
Only then did I realize I'd still been nursing my pride. Myeong Je-ha seemed to be running some kind of test.
"Yeo-reum."
How big was my desire to climb. What I was willing to do to endure it.
"If you hate it, quit."
At those words, the confusion I'd been drowning in snapped cold and clear in an instant.
All right. Think it through, Han Yeo-reum.
Judging it coldly, Myeong Je-ha's choice was correct. Everything he'd said to me so far — anything wrong in it?
Not a single thing.
Think of the audition hopefuls lined up outside those Chungmuro buildings. And above all—
Do Gyeo-ul used my acting, so why can't I use her name? I had nearly ten years of my acting stolen from me.
The moment I framed it that way, the unpleasant taste slowly faded. Before the regression, sure — but as of now, of the three of us — me, Myeong Je-ha, Do Gyeo-ul — Do Gyeo-ul's recognition was overwhelming.
"…Fine. Then for the time being, I'll make use of Do Gyeo-ul's name. Just like you said."
Only then did a quiet laugh drift through the receiver. It seemed I'd finally given the answer he wanted to hear.
"A courier will deliver the script in a little while. Look it over. Prepare for a meeting, too."
"A meeting?"
"It's a single-act drama script. One episode, and — like you asked — it's a public broadcast."
I'd asked for it literally yesterday, and it was already settled? That was impossible.
"Then you'd better get me on public TV."
"Public TV? What kind of appearance?"
"Anything! I just need to be on TV, that's all."
At my request, Myeong Je-ha had stared at me in silence for a long moment — his face composed, like something drawn in a single unbroken line. He studied me quietly, then gave a simple nod.
Less than twenty-four hours had passed since I'd spoken those words, and yet here it was, at a speed I could hardly believe.
Exactly thirty minutes after hanging up, the script arrived. On the cover, the title was written in large letters.
Not Interested At All
My eyes caught on the name written beneath it — because something about the title had been naggingly familiar.
"…I knew it!"
Direction: So Ye-sol. Screenplay: So Ye-sol.
Just seeing the name made my heart leap.