In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 117

Feeling the weight of their stares, I spoke up.

“I received a casting offer with great conditions, but I’m hesitating too.”

“Why would you?”

“Given the script, it’s going to be difficult to pull off.”

Seo Jaeyeon looked intrigued.

“Well, well. Han Sena hesitating?”

“Right. Sena-ssi’s usually the picture of confidence—like the embodiment of invincibility, you know?”

Seong Minhui chimed in from the side.

Hearing that, I laughed awkwardly.

“Thank you for saying that, but I’m not always brimming with confidence.”

After saying that, I lifted my beer glass.

Whenever people saw me as “someone who’s always confident” or “someone who doesn’t know failure,” I felt an indescribable emotion.

Like I was a liar or something.

Though things had changed now, what I’d been most familiar with originally wasn’t confidence—it was failure.

People would never know.

Holding onto feelings I couldn’t share, I sipped my beer.

* * *

Back home.

In the darkened living room, I watched about two dated movies before turning them off.

They were the most famous foreign films made about dissociative identity disorder.

I wonder how everyone prepared for these characters.

From what I’d learned, with dissociative identity disorder, every time the identity changes, not just regular behavior and speech patterns but even tiny habits and mannerisms completely change.

Literally becoming a different person.

<Say Your Name> had a total of five identities.

I’d have to become five people, coexist with them, and experience conflict with them too.

Lost in thought, I flopped onto the sofa.

Playing it by ear and diving in recklessly kept making me hesitate.

‘If you agree to appear, we’ll not only pay whatever fee you want, but we’ll also consult with you on casting the opposite role.’

Receiving such a good offer actually made me suspicious somehow.

That’s when a message from Minyeong unnie flew in.

Was she still up working at this late hour?

-Got a call from the SCBS single-episode drama people. They said the ratings were really good, so they want to do a mentor special. Got a super short script from a talented writer—four people total, two women two men, perfect fit for the headcount.

Reading that message, I sat up.

Unnie added that all the other mentors had already agreed to participate.

Then I can’t be the only one to skip out.

This worked out well.

I’d been spinning my wheels forever, so this timing was perfect.

Going on set and getting back in front of the camera to sharpen my instincts seemed like it’d be good.

I wanted to just be out on set without overthinking anything.

* * *

The single-episode drama filming location.

The single-episode drama set I’d come to while postponing my decision was perfect for refreshing.

A familiar yet tasty flavor—a decent script that promised to be satisfying, combined with veteran actors whose chemistry clicked perfectly.

The straightforward script actually allowed the actors to utilize their individuality in every gap and show their true value.

The atmosphere was cheerful and harmonious too.

That’s when Yeongi, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, came running from far away.

“Mentor!! I came to cheer you on!”

Yeongi held out cookies she’d baked herself.

Happy to see Yeongi after so long, I grabbed the hand holding out the cookies.

“It’s been ages, how have you been?”

“Yes.”

Yeongi smiled while chattering about her recent activities.

I listened to her story while smiling quietly.

“It’s so hard to choose. It’s even harder than picking a company.”

Yeongi was in the process of selecting her first TV miniseries debut project.

She grumbled that her hair was falling out while showing me several options.

“…But with this project, I just can’t see a solution at all. Honestly I got first place in the audition more from luck than skill, so it scared me. But if I do this, I’ll grow a lot, right?”

My ears perked up at Yeongi’s last words.

I stared at Yeongi’s face, momentarily dazed.

“…Mentor?”

Right now, I was in a similar situation to Yeongi.

Struggling over a difficult script.

But at the end of that struggle, Yeongi had placed a small hope.

She’d found her own reason for participating in that project.

Placing hope in something even if it’s an unanswerable question.

Still, I’ll grow, right? I’ll improve, right?

When I was feeling so unsure, my mentee’s fiery determination gave me a bit of an answer.

“Yeah. That project might be the best one for your growth.”

I said that and smiled slightly.

* * *

“Are the soles of your feet several times thicker than other people’s?”

Evening after filming wrapped.

Seo Jaeyeon had suddenly called me out, and we were drinking coffee together.

“Huh?”

“How is it that every path you take is full of thorns? Do you like acupressure or something?”

After hearing that I’d become interested in <Say Your Name>, Seo Jaeyeon tossed out her signature cynical joke.

Hearing that, my mind wandered elsewhere.

If you’re at rom-com queen level, do you recite drama-worthy lines even in everyday life?

“You have such an interesting way with words.”

The words slipped out casually.

And one second later, I thought ‘oops, that was a mistake’ and looked at Seo Jaeyeon in surprise at myself.

Did that offend her?

But Seo Jaeyeon didn’t bat an eye and just chuckled.

“I do things a bit unconventionally, me. My ex-boyfriend said he liked that about me. Pretty and good with words too, he said.”

Ah, yes.

Information I wasn’t particularly curious about, but I laughed along with an “ahaha” and nodded.

Seo Jaeyeon looked at me and said:

“Drop the formalities with me already.”

“Huh?”

“Stop using formal speech too.”

“……Why…?”

Seo Jaeyeon shrugged.

“Because I want to get close to you? And we’re the same age.”

“…..”

That was slightly shocking.

Come to think of it, I’d never once asked her age.

This person had succeeded young and maintained her top position for a very long time.

Looking at Seo Jaeyeon’s face, which seemed to have something to say, I got slightly tense.

As if reading my feelings, Seo Jaeyeon got to the point.

“Let’s do a project together.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a dual-female-lead production I’m joining. The director’s already attached, and it’s Writer Bin Gyuhyeon’s work. Bin’s script quality goes without saying.”

My mouth dropped open as I stared at Seo Jaeyeon.

A project with Seo Jaeyeon and me together?

“The content’s interesting. Not predictable either. The director’s struggling over the other female lead spot, and I recommended you.”

“Why me all of a sudden….”

“If you and I do a dual-lead together, the ratings will absolutely be first place. Plus if the quality gets recognized, we’ll sweep the award ceremonies too. Sounds good, right?”

“Well… I guess that’s true.”

When I gave a lukewarm response, Seo Jaeyeon raised the corner of her mouth as if she’d expected as much.

“Your criteria for choosing projects. I know them. People say you have an exceptional eye for scripts, but I don’t think that’s all there is.”

“…..”

“Your reason for choosing projects is deeply personal. Things like a challenging spirit, growth, new attempts.”

Seo Jaeyeon suddenly revealed precise insight and drew me in.

“People like you always avoid paths that seem like guaranteed success. But is there really a need? What matters is ratings.”

That familiar yet suddenly unfamiliar three-character word stuck in my ears.

Ratings.

“Ah….”

“What lets you keep acting for a long time, what lets you burn with passion longer than others. That’s not inside you—it’s outside. Ratings. That time when people sit in front of their TVs during prime time and watch your face over all other dramas.”

Each of Seo Jaeyeon’s words struck like a blow to the back of my head.

I took my hands off my coffee cup and quietly ruminated on those words.

Those words that felt like the clear answer.

An actor’s lifespan isn’t determined by the actor.

Because it depends not on one’s own choice, but on others’ choices.

I already knew that.

“So you need to temper that feeling a bit. Focusing only on passion or fighting spirit is just as foolish and excessive as obsessing only over ratings. What matters is balance.”

“……”

“I’ll send over the script, so read it at home. And give me an answer by the end of this week.”

After finishing her words, Seo Jaeyeon stood up from her seat.

Then she grinned.

“Of course, you don’t have to do it.”

Having been speechless for a while now, this time too I looked up at Seo Jaeyeon without saying anything.

“Even if we don’t work together, drop the formalities next time we meet, okay? See you.”

Seo Jaeyeon walked away with light footsteps from her heels.

Listening to those footsteps for a long time, I realized something.

How Seo Jaeyeon had survived in this industry for over fifteen years.

Seo Jaeyeon sometimes yearned, and other times reined herself in.

In order to keep acting for a long time.

* * *

Under the clear sky, cutting through the waves while getting hit hard by the cool ocean breeze.

“This is amazing!!!”

I rode the board over the waves, screaming until my insides felt completely clear.

I gripped the rope handle connected to the boat tightly.

“Wow, you’re strong!”

Ha Seongjun, covered in thick sunscreen and wearing sunglasses, watched me from the boat and laughed.

“Is it refreshing??”

Ha Seongjun shouted loudly.

I answered like I was screaming back.

“Yeah, to death!! I love this so much, ah—aack!”

Mid-answer, my concentration slipped and my ankle got swept by the current.

In an instant, I tumbled underwater.

Just briefly submerged in the water.

“Are you okay, Sena-ssi?”

“Grab the handle again!”

Above the water, people’s voices echoed with a muffled sound.

Briefly, momentarily, the world’s sounds felt blocked out in the quiet underwater.

Unlike my stinging eyes and nose, somehow my insides felt calm.

I relaxed my body and surrendered to the water.

Then I slowly opened my eyes.

Above the rippling current, the sun shone brilliantly with blurred edges.

This feels good….

Barely able to feel that silence, the life vest quickly pulled me back up to the surface.

“Puha! Ugh, my eyes hurt!!”

Hwang Yuseon, who’d been sitting next to Ha Seongjun, had jumped up.

“Sena-ssi, are you okay? You went under pretty deep.”

“I’m fine! Ugh, I totally inhaled water though.”

I rubbed at my eyes.

Hwang Yuseon looked exasperated.

“Let’s stop now. I can’t tell if we came here to play or for endurance training.”

Park Eunki stretched out his arm and offered his hand.

Grabbing that hand tightly, I barely managed to climb onto the boat.

The moment I got above water, my whole body felt heavy like I was carrying sandbags.

“Ugh, I’m dying.”

Park Eunki quickly handed me a water bottle.

I immediately washed my face with the clear water.

After confirming I was okay, the captain started the boat again.

I laughed out loud while getting hit by the refreshing breeze again.

The three of them looked at me like I was strange.

“Anyone would think you’d never played in your life.”

Hearing that, I laughed again.

“That’s right. I’ve never really played before. I’m going to start now.”

Then Park Eunki sitting next to me chuckled.

“I’ll teach you how.”

“Will you?”

That’s when Hwang Yuseon, who had a sun allergy, scratched at her slightly itchy neck and asked.

“By the way, Sena-ssi, did you decide on your next project? I heard you even went to a meeting for <Say Your Name>.”

The moment I heard that question, a stone dropped in my chest with a thud.