Twelve Hours, Cinderella

The black shadow had the voice of a small child.

What is that?

It came back to her in a flash—the moment of her death, when Baek Ga-yoon was murdering her, and one of the many black shadows rippling behind the woman's back had been seized in her hand.

"That's right. That's when I peeled away from her. Evil spirits like me cling to Baek Ga-yoon by the dozen. Want to know why?"

The rumors about Baek Ga-yoon surfaced at once. The abuse of power, the violence, every vicious act Baek Ga-yoon was rumored to have committed—could it be that they had all simply been true?

"Exactly. But there's another reason, too."

A reason. Everyone had their own circumstances. Still, that could hardly make the wickedness right.

Whatever she thought of it, the evil spirit went on, perfectly unbothered.

"It's because she made a deal. Every time she pulls something that vile, the spirits attached to her grow stronger."

She couldn't quite wrap her head around that.

"Why? Why would she do evil spirits favors?"

What was in it for her? Money, fame, power—did Baek Ga-yoon, who had all of it, have anything left to gain? As if it had read her mind, the spirit answered.

"Of course she does! In exchange, Baek Ga-yoon's acting improves."

Her acting…? Her brow creased. There was a saying that had stuck to Baek Ga-yoon for years: no one could touch her when it came to acting.

Which would mean all of that—every ounce of it—was power bought from evil spirits, paid for with wicked deeds?

"You can have it too."

The spirit's voice was a coaxing purr, but she only shrugged. She wasn't about to be won over that easily.

"Hmm. I don't know that I want power badly enough to take it from someone else."

The black shadow wavered with an unpleasant sound. It was laughing at her.

"No. That's not it."

The spirit whispered, low and insinuating.

"You're dead, remember? You have to live! In return, you get life. Life!"

It landed like a blow between the eyes. Her lips parted slightly.

Life.

Ga-yoon stared at the spirit, unblinking. Its black shadow shifted, reshaping itself into numbers.

Into the time engraved at the base of her neck.

"I'm weak right now. An evil spirit is short on evil."

The strength anchoring her soul to the body that had died was faint, it said—that was why she'd been granted a measly twelve hours. It also said that if she repeated vicious acts the way Baek Ga-yoon did, the spirit's power would grow, and with it the time she was allowed to live.

But something didn't add up.

It meant the stronger the spirit became, the longer she could stay alive.

"Then why help me?"

Was simply getting stronger really benefit enough for the thing? Somehow she doubted it. Once it had power, she suspected it would want something more.

"Oho… we help each other, that's all."

Just as she'd suspected, the spirit pressed on, sweet as syrup, as though something were tucked behind the words.

"One little gesture from your hand, and I peeled right off Baek Ga-yoon. That's how I came to be bound to you."

Its voice was gentle now, soothing, insinuating.

"You are my host. If I can't feed on you, I simply cease to exist."

In other words, the spirit could exist only so long as she did. That was why it was helping her.

Right. A symbiosis, exactly as it said—two creatures keeping each other alive.

"Understand? Sorry to say, I'm weak at the moment. Even squeezing out enough power to talk like this is about all I can manage."

Melting back into shadow, the spirit flowed to the base of her neck and seeped in—right where the time was engraved.

"Twelve hours, Cinderella."

And within those twelve hours, she would have to do evil. Only then could she buy herself more life.

The hands of the clock began to move.

Tick. Tock.

"…So the director is on a complete hair trigger right now, which means you'd better deliver. Well. Our Ga-yoon's a brilliant actress, so I'm sure it'll be fine, but still."

Minji's mouth, stalled all this while, was moving again, and the makeup artist's brush resumed its strokes. But Ga-yoon had frozen where she sat, staring blankly at the woman in the mirror.

There, embedded between her nape and the hollow of her collarbone, the time was counting down. Can only I see that thing?

"This spot here—nothing got on it, did it…?" she ventured, rubbing at the time. The makeup artist stole a closer look before answering.

"There's nothing there. Maybe it came off just now, when you rubbed it like that?"

"Oh. I guess it must have."

So no one else could see it.

Ha. But seriously, this…

She swallowed hard and locked her eyes on the time as it drained away. The passing seconds felt brutally fast.

Tick, tick, tick.

Ah… I'm… I'm seriously freaking out…?

Her mouth had gone bone-dry, and before she knew it she was wetting her lips over and over until the makeup artist stopped her.

"Ah—your lipstick's coming off."

"Thirsty? I'll get you water—one second."

Minji stuck a straw into a tumbler and held it out. Just then a knock sounded, and a staff member stepped in to announce,

"Jung Ga-yoon-ssi, we're going into the shoot shortly. Please head out to set."

Ga-yoon's lips twitched.

Now? It's happening now?!

Am I supposed to plant my feet like Baek Ga-yoon and refuse to shoot?!

But Minji's answer came faster than hers.

"Yes! Got it!"

The busy staffer hurried off the moment the reply landed. Minji gathered up the tumbler to put it away, while the makeup artist finished her last delicate touches and withdrew.

All that remained was for Ga-yoon to rise from her chair and head to set.

"……"

But her movements were sluggish, her lips quivering.

If I throw a fit right now and refuse to shoot, everyone here suffers for it. Yes. So that would count as an evil deed, wouldn't it.

Damn it. The clock keeps running, and my mouth just won't open.

She knew better than anyone how much of other people's time, devotion, and sweat went into making this drama.

Her hands were shaking. The memory of dying once wouldn't leave her—the terror of being unable to breathe; the desperate will to live; the helplessness of being destroyed without ever knowing why, and the rage she bore toward Baek Ga-yoon. Everything blurring faint, fainter—and then that instant when her breath finally severed. All of it, vivid.

Remember that, and the answer is obvious—do whatever it takes, survive first, think later.

"Ha…"

As the sigh left her, Minji pressed the script into her hands.

"Nervous? There, there. Let's run it one more time on the way. Once you're in front of the camera, you'll come through just fine—more than enough to satisfy the director."

Apparently Minji had read her stiffness as nerves over the director's foul mood; trying to loosen her up, she kept up a stream of chatter and patted her shoulder.

Right. The shoot comes first. Twelve hours—there's still time. Get through this shoot, then figure out a way.

She didn't want to live at other people's expense.

That wouldn't be me.

Eyes squeezed shut, then open, she stepped out of the waiting room and unfolded the script as she walked. Today's shoot was the villain Na Yu-ju's monologue.

Terms of Inheritance had entered the final stretch of filming.

The story had reached the point where Lee Ha-yeon, the female lead played by Baek Ga-yoon, had gained everything—and the villain was about to lose it all.

Spitting mad, Na Yu-ju returns home and demands water from the housekeeper. She hurls the cup, complaining that the water isn't cold. She slaps the housekeeper across the face and goes on a rampage, raging that every last bit of it is Lee Ha-yeon's fault.

"Huh…?"

Wait. Couldn't I turn this to my advantage?

"Ga-yoon, is something wrong?" Minji asked worriedly, catching her arm. Ga-yoon flinched, turned to look at her—and the corner of her mouth curved up.

"No, nothing. Inspiration for how to play it just came to me out of nowhere."

It was worth an experiment. She wanted to live—there was no denying that. But she had no confidence she could string wicked deeds together day after day, the way Baek Ga-yoon did. She'd stake her life on it: that was not who she was.

If she tried to live like that, she would be the one to come apart.

Script clutched tight in her fist, Ga-yoon started walking again.

"All right—when you slap her cheek here, the timing is everything."

In front of Ga-yoon and the bit-part actress, the director was laying out the choreography of the slap with complete seriousness. From other angles, he explained, a feint would do since it barely registered on camera—but this scene was a straight-on shot, so the slap had to land for real, and so did the taking of it.

"Ga-yoon-ssi, don't you worry about me one bit. You can hit me as hard as you need to. Got it?"

The bit actress—the one who had to take the hit—was tense, but she pumped her fist with the face of a soldier headed into battle. She was an actress old enough to be Ga-yoon's mother.

"Yes. Let's nail it in one."

With a scene like this, the ideal was to perform it properly and get the okay in a single take. Halfhearted acting on a shaky heart would only multiply the takes—and the number of blows the other actress had to absorb.

"Good, good. I believe in you both. Let's go!"

With a look brimming with trust, the director gave Ga-yoon and the bit actress each a pat on the shoulder and returned to his post.

"Terms of Inheritance, episode 11, scene 21, take one."

The director's voice drifted from the speakers.

On the set built around a grand mansion's living room, the bit actress slipped off toward the kitchen and vanished from sight, while Ga-yoon took her place just beyond the front door to wait.

"Cue!"

The signal dropped from the director the moment he confirmed that everything was in place.