Red Carpet Premiere
I slipped into the prepared evening dress and stood before the mirror. The red fabric hugged my body, creating an elegant silhouette. It was an open-shoulder mini dress that accentuated my shoulders and legs. Twice as flashy as my usual stage outfits. It looked stunning, but moving in it was incredibly uncomfortable. The high heels made it even worse. Short skirt, towering heels, a top that threatened to slip off—there were too many things to worry about. The thought of enduring this for a full four hours already had me short of breath.
"Doesn't our Siyeon have the most beautiful shoulders?"
"Right? Even most models would struggle with a dress code like this."
Manager unni and the stylist flanked me, chattering away with ha-ha-hos. Since this was the agency's first event—a premiere screening—they were even more excited than usual.
"Oh, has it gotten this late already?"
Manager unni checked her watch and led me outside. The premiere was almost upon us. We arrived at the venue shortly after. A red carpet stretched out beyond the car, surrounded by reporters clutching cameras. The moment I stepped out, flashes exploded from all sides. My eyes stung, but I pretended not to notice and walked down the carpet with practiced poise.
"Ruti! Over here, just once!"
I waved leisurely at the photographers. Behind them, fans who'd come to the event cheered at the sight of me, clutching signs and paper. I glanced back at manager unni. She shook her head and whispered,
"...Only ten minutes till the screening starts."
No time for autographs, unfortunately. I waved even harder to show my regret. We'd nearly reached the end of the carpet when it happened.
"Huh? What's that kid doing?"
A little child suddenly darted onto the red carpet. So small that the security guards noticed a beat too late.
"Q-quick, get them out!"
The mischievous-looking kid was soon grabbed by security and dragged off. I immediately stopped them.
"Let the child go."
They were barely four or five years old. No malice there—just pure excitement. To kids that age, celebrities are like legendary Pokémon. Probably just thrilled or curious. The guards got my drift and released the child. I knelt to their eye level and asked,
"Do you know who I am?"
The kid nodded silently, clutching their paper tightly. When I held out my hand, they handed over the paper and pen. I signed it and snapped a photo for good measure. Time was tight, but I poured warmth into the fan service. To plant good memories in a budding young fan—well, that was the official line. Truthfully, it was all about image management. A top idol kindly servicing an innocent kid who'd crashed the event? Instant heartwarming article. Tomorrow morning, my good deed stories would flood the news. That's how you handle PR.
"Thank you."
"No, thank you... Ahem! Have fun with your parents."
I ruffled their hair and continued on. Inside the venue building, familiar faces greeted me—shooting staff, fellow actors from the movie. Lee Si-woo was among them, rushing over the second our eyes met.
"S-Siyeon! How've you been?"
"Good."
His gaze flicked up and down me rapidly, then his cheeks flushed pink.
"The dress suits you."
"Does it...?"
Pretending to check the dress, I sneaked a peek at him. He was scratching the back of his head, awkward as ever. Still the picture of innocence, then and now. We were chatting amiably when Director Yang appeared behind him. Something seemed off, though.
"Long time no see, Siyeon."
"...Director Yang?"
He looked drastically different from before. Much thinner, dark circles heavy under his eyes. I thought I'd mistaken him for someone else at first.
"...Director, are you sick or something?"
Worried, I asked. He replied with a grim expression.
"Nothing's wrong."
His face was gaunt, but the fierce glint in his eyes burned brighter. It bore the marks of countless trials endured. What on earth had happened in the meantime? I wanted to ask, but it was time to head to the theater.
"Be careful on these stairs."
At the steps leading into the screening room, Si-woo—who'd gone up one ahead—extended his hand. Worried about my high heels, maybe? I scoffed inwardly. My balance, honed through hundreds of dance routines to the extreme, wouldn't falter over some heels.
"I'm fine."
I climbed alone, refusing the help. Si-woo watched silently, looking oddly deflated. The theater buzzed with people—industry folks, critics, regular audiences—all seated, waiting quietly. We took our assigned seats. Soon, the lights dimmed, and the first scene flickered on screen.
Want to Reach You.
1 hour 20 minutes later, as the credits rolled with my ending song, the audience rose in a standing ovation.
———!!
I stayed glued to my seat for a while. Direction, OST, acting, editing—everything surpassed the version I'd seen in my future memories. Now I understood the director's haggard face. He'd poured his soul into it. Want to Reach You was already a smash hit, and now with elevated quality? It might outperform even the future I knew. My chest swelled with anticipation.
Astonishingly high marks from those notoriously picky critics. Rave reviews poured in below, many praising my performance among others.
"Hey, did you hear? That movie with Ruti—people are loving it."
"Wanna go see it?"
The whole class buzzed about nothing else. One girl who'd attended the premiere was gushing to her friends.
"You went to the screening, right? How was it?"
"Insane. You have to see it."
"That good?"
"Reverse-grade level. For real."
Her voluntary hype was commendable. I secretly gave her a thumbs-up.
"And with the premiere safely done..."
All that was left was to sit back and watch the box office soar. I was grinning to myself when a sharp gaze pierced from the corner of the classroom. Turning, I saw Ga-young staring blankly at me. She'd taken a sick day for a cold and still looked rough. Lingering symptoms?
"You okay?"
I approached, concerned. She flinched and averted her eyes, like she'd committed a crime.
"...I'm fine. And sorry for dropping by out of nowhere that day."
"Dropping by? What do you mean?"
"Huh? You don't remember...?"
I tilted my head. Ga-young pondered, then backpedaled frantically.
"Oh, nothing! Must've mixed you up with someone else."
"Hmm..."
How sick was she to mix up memories? I worried about her condition. Thought about taking her to the nurse, but the teacher arrived for morning homeroom, so I sat.
"Everyone, take your seats. I've got good news today."
At her cue, a girl waiting outside entered. Pale skin, sharp features, glassy blue eyes, shoulder-length bob. Quiet and prim, yet with an aura that drew eyes.
"I'm Ha Yu-ri. Let's get along."
She bowed deeply to the class. A transfer student, out of nowhere. The girls exchanged glances; the boys cheered discreetly. And I groaned inwardly.
...Ha Yu-ri. A name I'd heard somewhere before.