The Monitor Doesn't Lie
So that was what she'd meant — commit acts of wickedness to raise her acting skill. She intended to squeeze out whatever improvement she could, right up to the very moment she shared the screen with me.
Pfft. Jung Ga-yoon let out a laugh as thin as a passing breeze and murmured,
"How childish."
It wasn't loud enough for anyone nearby to catch, but it was precisely the right size to reach Baek Ga-yoon.
"Ha!"
Choking on her fury, Baek Ga-yoon shot out a hand and seized Jung Ga-yoon by the hair.
"Aaah!"
It was just as the startled bystanders rushed in to pry them apart—
"That's it, hold on. You think acting alone will make you my equal? Perfect timing, really — I've just filled up my time!"
Behind Baek Ga-yoon, who spat the words out as if chewing them to pieces, a massive shadow rippled.
An evil spirit.
So she had to commit wicked acts for a set stretch of time to purchase her acting skill — that was the shape of the deal, anyway.
Jung Ga-yoon fixed her gaze on the shadow and studied it closely. But last time there had been several of them flickering about; now there was only one. What could that mean?
"Director! Let's get the shoot started!"
Before the others could even reach them, Baek Ga-yoon released the fistful of Jung Ga-yoon's hair and took her place among the extras. It was her starting mark for the scene.
"Are you okay?"
"Are you all right?"
Minji and the rest of the staff hovered around Jung Ga-yoon, checking her over, while Sohee bit her lip anxiously and smoothed her hair back into place.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Director."
She soothed the people around her and looked toward Director Kang, her eyes saying, let's get this shoot moving.
Director Kang nodded his thanks, gratitude tangled with worry on his face. Apparently he believed she had somehow talked Baek Ga-yoon into filming after all.
"All right, everyone — once this week is over, we wrap the series. Let's bring the fire!"
Director Kang clapped twice, rallying the set, and Jung Ga-yoon took her own starting mark in front of the balcony.
"And... ready."
The staff sprang into motion, and the moment the preparations were complete—
"Action!"
Director Kang's cue rang out.
Standing among the extras, Baek Ga-yoon plucked a champagne glass from a nearby tray and drew Lee Ha-yeon's emotions up to the surface.
Soft at the corners of the eyes, gentle in her gaze — in an instant Baek Ga-yoon had become Lee Ha-yeon, the heroine at once poignant and dignified, and sank deep into the role.
"Congratulations on the brand launch. I enjoyed the presentation earlier."
There was no line for it in the script — just a stage direction: Lee Ha-yeon chats with the guests at the party.
"Oh — yes. Thank you."
The extra, caught off guard by Baek Ga-yoon's improvised line, fought down his panic and managed a reply.
How could a face so vicious mere moments ago turn so gentle! At the transformation, not only the extra but Director Kang and every member of the staff clicked their tongues in silent admiration.
Baek Ga-yoon, all right. Her temper might be an absolute waking nightmare, but when it came to acting, she could not be beaten.
"Ah... Excuse me for a moment."
Though she hadn't touched a single sip of the champagne in her hand, Baek Ga-yoon's cheeks glowed pink. She set her glass on the tray of a passing waiter and drifted lightly toward the balcony. The camera followed her.
"Cut. Let's go straight into the balcony scene."
The take had earned an instant okay, and the cameraman stepped inside the balcony. The space wasn't spacious enough to set up a locked-off camera, so he would have to work handheld.
"We're ready."
The cameraman gave the signal, and Baek Ga-yoon nodded.
"Okay. Ready."
Baek Ga-yoon thought of Jung Ga-yoon, who would come through the balcony door. Lead and villain — the two of them had played off each other plenty by now. And every single time, the same thought had surfaced...
There was something different about Jung Ga-yoon's acting. Irritatingly different. That, presumably, was what people meant by talent.
No — surely not. At the table read for Terms of Inheritance, she could still say with confidence that Jung Ga-yoon was no better than she was. And yet.
In every instant of filming this drama, Jung Ga-yoon became the villain Na Yu-ju so completely it made her skin prickle — so completely that Baek Ga-yoon caught herself thinking the girl's immersion outranked her own.
And this, while Baek Ga-yoon herself had to buy every ounce of her skill by ceaselessly feeding power to an evil spirit.
Was Jung Ga-yoon truly Geum Sa-ra's biological daughter, then?
"Actress Baek — are you still not ready?"
Without her realizing it, tension had crept into the corners of her eyes, and the mask of Lee Ha-yeon had cracked, ever so slightly.
That demon of a director, Kang. Of course he wouldn't let it slide — he had to shoot her a look.
"Whew..."
Shaking her head, Baek Ga-yoon loosened the muscles of her face and remade her expression.
It's fine. It'll be fine. Right up until today's shoot, she had packed every hour solid, handing her malice over to the evil spirit. Her acting had to have grown since yesterday. Focus.
"Good. Action."
A soft breeze drifted by, pleasantly cool, and the flush faded from Lee Ha-yeon's cheeks as a smile bloomed across her face — a smile like a cherry tree in riotous spring bloom, warm enough to melt the hearts of everyone watching through the lens—
Creeeak—
The balcony door opened, and Jung Ga-yoon made her entrance. Her appearance alone froze the air, as though the spring breeze had been flung to the ground and left for dead.
"Happy?"
A voice pitched strangely askew. A chill like a grudge carved into the marrow bled through even her gait, and everyone on set flinched, shoulders jerking.
Baek Ga-yoon was no exception.
"..."
Baek Ga-yoon, who had been leaning against the balcony rail gazing out, went rigid and turned to face her.
It had grown again. Jung Ga-yoon's acting.
That demented, monstrous bitch.
Making even that skin, white as jade, look as though it must run with cold blue blood.
The mask of Lee Ha-yeon shattered a second time — but this time, no rebuke came from Director Kang. Lee Ha-yeon and Na Yu-ju were enemies, after all; he must have judged the expression fitting.
No one knew that her own immersion had broken, but Baek Ga-yoon's pride lay crumpled all the same. By the script she should have snapped out Na Yu-ju's name — what brings you here again? — but she had no desire to. She had just resolved to flub the take on purpose when—
Click. Click.
Jung Ga-yoon came toward her with her spine ramrod straight, planted herself in front of Baek Ga-yoon, and tipped her chin up a fraction. The look down her nose was imperious. The instant their eyes met, a feeling of being crushed swept over Baek Ga-yoon, and she bit down hard on her lip without meaning to.
Jung Ga-yoon, gazing down at her, curled the corner of her mouth with naked scorn. Then she reached out a white hand, hooked Baek Ga-yoon's hair over her index finger as though hanging it there, and said,
"Stealing everything that belonged to someone else, and acting as if it was yours all along."
The sentence, hissed murderously at her ear, plunged a blade into her heart. Naturally, it was a line born of the story itself — Na Yu-ju believed Lee Ha-yeon had taken everything from her.
But to Baek Ga-yoon, it sounded as though the words were meant for her alone.
"Never even knowing your own place."
Not even Geum Sa-ra's real daughter. She stole my place, and lives happily as if it was hers from the start.
Up close, Jung Ga-yoon's eyes were hollow as empty rooms, and they raised gooseflesh along her arms.
Slide—
Jung Ga-yoon's hand glided up from Baek Ga-yoon's shoulder and closed around her throat. Cold and slick, the hand might have been a snake.
"You know what happens? Climb beyond your place, and you get stepped on. Like this."
"Urk!"
The pressure mounted, steady and inexorable. Was she truly going to strangle her, right here? Her breath wouldn't come.
The words Jung Ga-yoon had whispered to her just before the shoot came flooding back.
"Are you afraid of me? Afraid I might really strangle you? The way you did to me, sunbae?"
Because she looked like a reaper of judgment, come to punish her personally, with her own hands, for grasping at a seat she had known full well was never hers.
"Aaaagh!"
Forgetting entirely that the cameras were rolling, Baek Ga-yoon screamed and thrashed as though fighting for her life. Then she flung Jung Ga-yoon off with every ounce of strength she had and scrubbed furiously at her throat, as if something filthy had touched it.
And in that instant, with a crackle of static—
"Cut! NG!"
Director Kang's voice rang out over the speaker.
"...!"
Baek Ga-yoon — still rubbing at her throat with terror pooled in her eyes — stopped dead.
From beyond the balcony, dozens of pairs of eyes were trained on her. Several had their hands over their mouths, whispering behind them. What could they be saying?
"She strangled me!"
She had performed the scene exactly as written — and they thought she was the one overacting?
No. That was it. Jung Ga-yoon was nursing a grudge — she was using the script as a pretext to make her pay.
Jung Ga-yoon had drawn back a single step and now stood with her arms crossed, looking down at her. No doubt she intended to wave it all away — just acting, nothing more.
She couldn't let that stand. Clutching her throat as though to shield it, Baek Ga-yoon shrieked, trembling from head to toe.
"She really strangled me! Not pretending — really! Aaagh!"
If the scene kept going like this, livid bruises might bloom around her throat — just like the ones she had left on Jung Ga-yoon's neck. She might even starve of air and black out. Jung Ga-yoon wouldn't truly kill her in front of all these people — but she would choke her right up to the brink of death!
"Easy, Ga-yoon. Easy."
Lee Jeong-han hurried over to Baek Ga-yoon — who looked half-mad with panic — and draped a blanket around her shoulders.
"Ms. Baek Ga-yoon."
Director Kang had appeared beside them at some point, his expression pained.
"Let's take this to the monitor, shall we?"
At the words that came out of nowhere, Baek Ga-yoon's brow knotted. Lee Jeong-han pressed a steadying hand to her blanket-wrapped shoulders and nudged her along.
A review? Why? Out of nowhere? Had everything she'd said simply gone in one ear and out the other?
She was half-decided on throwing another fit when Lee Jeong-han, patting her back in soothing little taps, ushered her to the monitoring table. And then—
"Look for yourself. Ms. Jung Ga-yoon never squeezed your neck."
The monitor replayed the scene they had just shot. The hand Jung Ga-yoon had closed around Baek Ga-yoon's throat held not one grain of force.
Utterly defeated.
She had been swallowed whole by Jung Ga-yoon's performance — a performance that, without a flicker of real pressure, had seemed to close around her windpipe and squeeze.