Chapter 2

Translator: Diva

Chapter: 2

Chapter Title: In This Life, It's the Oscar, Not My Husband

Suddenly, a voice called out.

“Ha Eun-rae-ssi?”

A woman was standing in front of me.

Was this a hospital?

Then this person... a doctor? But she didn't look like one—her clothes were way too casual. No white coat or anything.

Horn-rimmed glasses, checkered shirt, round and cute face.

‘...Hold on.’

This woman was a famous film director.

Jeon Se-yeon.

She had to be well over forty... but she looked a bit younger than I remembered?

And the next words out of her mouth were—

“You're here for the [Living with a Ghost] audition, right?”

[Living with a Ghost]?

That was the indie film directed by Jeon Se-yeon.

It was the very first audition I'd ever gone to.

“We need to set up the camera, so please wait just a moment.”

With that, Jeon Se-yeon headed into the audition room.

Left alone, I looked around and realized.

‘I've regressed.’

It was the quick judgment of someone steeped in the cinematic allowances of film.

Of course, there were grounds for my reasoning.

The date on my phone: 20XX, XX month, XX day.

And above all—

This script in my hand.

[Living with a Ghost].

This was Jeon Se-yeon's graduation project from film academy.

Twelve years ago, a photographer from the same school as her had introduced me to the audition.

But the words “graduation project” didn't exactly light up my face.

“A graduation project? That's just a student film, isn't it?”

At the time, I was already pulling in pretty good pay as a model for online shopping malls, so it wasn't a very appealing option.

“It's a film academy graduation project, so it's not just any student film... And it's a feature-length, so they'll pay well?”

But the mention of good pay flipped a switch in me.

Back then, my family kept causing one disaster after another, so no matter how much I earned, the money just drained away without a break.

‘I didn't even know what a film academy was back then.’

The “Film Academy” was one of Asia's top film schools.

Graduation projects often got submitted to international festivals, so for actors, appearing in a “Film Academy graduation project” was a huge opportunity.

But I knew none of that back then, so naturally, I assumed I'd get the part.

And I had good reason to think that—

I glanced at the mirror across the hallway.

Young.

Beautiful.

‘Beauty holds up even twelve years later, sure.’

But twenty-one-year-old Ha Eun-rae had a unique, standout presence.

Photographers were dying to feature my face in their personal works, and film students I'd run into by chance kept calling me daily to appear in theirs.

And even—

‘Look at this skin. It's glowing...’

I marveled at my own face.

The face that had been ruined by all those procedures I'd gotten whenever stress hit after the debt-investment scandal—it was flawless now.

No Botox along the jawline, no fillers in the forehead, no fat repositioning.

My facial muscles moved freely, expressions natural.

It felt like a national gymnastics champion returning to her pre-injury form.

‘Is this what they mean by peak honey skin?’

I smiled at my reflection.

The best part of regressing? This.

‘I'm before I ever met Kim Do-woon.’

Right before dying, my last emotion had been regret.

Regret over my foolish past self, who chose Kim Do-woon to escape my trash family.

I stared at the empty pill bottle and thought.

This life, I won't live like that.

I'll think of myself, not my family.

Me, what I love, that place where I felt most free.

Life as an actress.

‘That's all I'll see.’

That was my resolve.

That's when someone called my name.

“Ha Eun-rae-ssi.”

“Yes?”

I turned to see a male staffer nodding toward the room.

“Come on in.”

The audition was starting.

For reference, twelve years ago, this was where I suffered my first big humiliation and left.

Obviously, I didn't get the part.

But with my current acting skills, no need to tremble.

The problem was...

‘...I haven't read the script yet?’

I've only seen this movie twice in my life!

Jeon Se-yeon, seated as director in the audition room, was on edge.

Preparing her Film Academy graduation project, she'd rewritten the script multiple times.

And that had caused a problem—

‘I don't like the script...’

Given her love for comedy, she'd envisioned something witty and sparkling, with the core concept set from the start.

‘A woman who thinks she's a ghost, living with a man who knows she's not.’

The female lead, ‘Suin,’ survives a car accident that kills her parents.

Overwhelmed by survivor's guilt, she lives in a delusion that she's already dead and wandering purgatory.

She eats like it's an ancestral rite, avoids sunlight, rarely washes, sleeps on the floor instead of the bed.

All self-harm born from guilt over “I survived alone,” but portrayed in a somewhat comical way.

Yes.

Up to that point, all her professors had praised it as fun.

But—

“It goes off the rails once the male lead shows up?”

Every professor said the same.

‘...I can't write romance.’

A woman who thinks she's a ghost and haunts a stranger's house.

The man who shows up to evict her.

The moment she tried setting them up romantically, clichéd lines poured out, and the relationship twisted.

Her initially promising project sank with each revision for that reason.

From the point they meet, it all fell apart.

So Jeon Se-yeon's mind was filled with script worries; she couldn't even focus on the auditions.

That's when—

“Um... Director-nim.”

A woman called out to her.

Cat-like features with a unique mask. Snow-white skin, sharp features.

The kind of pretty face that would make anyone on the street turn back for a second look.

But—

‘Actors are all like that, whatever.’

Even the stunning ones often lose their appeal up close under the camera.

As she thought that and glanced at the camera beside her—

‘...!’

What? She looks even better on camera?

Especially her eyes—they're alive. A face pretty even in person pulls you in through the lens.

And if she wasn't mistaken—

‘She knows her good angles subtly.’

Rare for a newbie, she was aware of how she came across on camera.

‘Like someone's been acting for ten years...’

But her resume had no credits, not even short films.

So that meant—

‘She's a natural.’

As Jeon Se-yeon felt a flicker of admiration—

“If it's okay, could I tweak the script a bit and do some improv?”

The auditionee, ‘Ha Eun-rae,’ said something unexpected.

Tweak the script?

Jeon Se-yeon tempered her expectations.

Great on camera, but if she was the type to nitpick the work, it'd be tiring.

Some actors were like that.

They'd studied directing themselves and tried meddling with storyboards.

‘They think indie films are a playground.’

Was this actress the same?

But Ha Eun-rae's eyes...

Jeon Se-yeon stared into Ha Eun-rae's eyes on the camera feed and nodded.

“Sure. Go ahead with the improv. Which scene?”

At her question, Ha Eun-rae pointed to a scene in the script.

“The one where they first meet.”

“...!”

Coincidentally, it was right where the script started crumbling.

Their first meeting, where the romance was supposed to begin.

No way...

‘Did she sense that and pick it on purpose?’

With that thought, Jeon Se-yeon felt like this 21-year-old girl was seeing right through her—a 33-year-old woman.