In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 172

But this time, Minyeong unnie was even more unyielding.

When the counselor concluded that giving up the QYN project would help with treatment, unnie immediately announced to the press that day that I wouldn’t be appearing in it.

Of course, it was all decided without consulting me.

I argued with unnie several times over this, but there was no way I could win.

“What’s an agency for? An agency exists to take care of actors. Your actor just had an accident—her body and mind are sick right now. How can you let her appear? Would you do that if you were me?”

Mom and Dad also sided with Minyeong unnie.

“Sena, your acting career isn’t going to end just because you skip this one project.”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this! Are you trying to drive your mother crazy on purpose?”

QYN also accepted my withdrawal with concern rather than disappointment.

-It’s unfortunate, but we hope to work with you on our next opportunity. We wish you a speedy recovery.

I had no way to overturn all of this.

I kept holding onto the script despite my coughing preventing me from practicing out loud.

But each time I read through the lines, the situation and texture of emotions from that moment came back so vividly that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Park Inha filled my thoughts all day long.

I set down the script I’d been reading in secret from unnie.

The edges were already fraying from being read dozens of times.

The hospital room was packed with gifts fans and friends had sent.

“Haah.”

I let out a short sigh and walked toward the gifts.

As I unwrapped them one by one, various aromatherapy candles and oils for mental stability, supplements, and paintings spread across the hospital room floor.

I stared blankly at them.

The gifts from people who’d thought of me didn’t resonate.

This had never happened before.

Part of my soul remained stuck as Park Inha, not Han Sena.

Was the doctor right—was giving up this project truly the right thing for my mental health?

Was I too immersed in that world?

But… if I gave it up, could I even endure it?

I hadn’t entered the script world of my own will.

And that world had clearly told me I absolutely had to film this.

I hugged my knees and buried my face.

That’s when the hospital room door opened.

It was Minyeong unnie.

Unnie sighed seeing me crouched on the floor.

“Did you eat?”

“…”

“Your medicine?”

“Unnie, I want to be discharged.”

“No.”

“I won’t insist on filming the project. I just want to be discharged. My body’s fine.”

“……”

“Being here makes me feel more suffocated and depressed.”

Unnie seemed unable to refuse even this, giving no answer.

Silence settled over the hospital room.

* * *

Home after so long.

For several days, I lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling.

All the curtains in my room were drawn shut.

‘Don’t think about anything. Just shake it off.’

But as time passed, the quietness flowing through the house drove me more insane.

Other dramas and scripts wouldn’t register at all.

When I turned on the TV, it grated terribly on my nerves.

I forced myself to answer Minyeong unnie’s calls once a day.

-Did you eat?

-I did.

-Don’t lie. I had food delivered. Eat it.

The phone calls were always the same.

A few days later, unnie discovered that unopened delivery food was piling up outside my door.

Unnie said nothing about it.

Then a few days after that, she spoke over the phone with a deep sigh.

-Quartet Media is considering investing in the QYN project.

At those words, I slowly sat up in bed.

“What are you talking about, all of a sudden?”

-They must’ve liked the script. But they made you being cast as the lead their condition.

Unnie spoke reluctantly, as if forcing out news she didn’t want to share.

Still, my ears perked up.

-And the second condition is expanding it to a 16-episode structure.

“That sounds great.”

I’d felt while reading the script that many parts were omitted from the 8-episode version anyway.

The writer probably had far more to convey, just like me.

-Do you really want to do this script that badly?

“Yes, unnie, please….”

-What’s with the ‘please’ again? Why do you keep making me the bad guy?

Unnie grumbled.

But from her tone, it seemed like she was ready to give in, and I jumped to my feet.

“Unnie, what made you suddenly change your mind?”

-Somehow you’ll gradually improve with psychological treatment. But if I don’t let you do this project, I think you’ll carry it as a regret for life. That’s why.

“……”

-What would I say if you resented me later?

Hearing those words, my nose stung for no reason.

“Unnie, thank you. And… I’m sorry.”

-But in exchange, you absolutely have to do it while continuing counseling. If you slack off even one day, I’ll halt filming and make you retire.

That made me laugh.

“Yes, unnie. I definitely will.”

-I’ll schedule the meeting.

“Thank you!”

After hanging up, I flung open the tightly closed curtains.

Dazzling light poured into the room.

“Ugh.”

My eyes squinted involuntarily at the brightness.

My head spun for a moment.

Still, energy surged through me for the first time in a while.

* * *

But the challenges to overcome weren’t finished yet.

“Isn’t the project too bland? I’d like to see some romance added.”

The moment Quartet confirmed their investment, they started meddling with every aspect of the project.

And from my and the writer’s perspective, it was all complete nonsense.

“Park Inha, Tae Sunwoo, Kim Youngwoo—a love triangle would be perfect, right?”

“Park Inha’s abilities seem too weak. What if we added another superpower?”

“Oh, that sounds good! Like telekinesis, for example.”

Telekinesis my ass.

For the first time in countless meetings, I felt my expression control slipping as I forced my lips into a semblance of a smile.

“Those are interesting ideas, but I think that direction would undermine the project’s strengths.”

Squeezed among the production team, the rookie writer tried to voice opposition in a small voice, but no one listened.

“And isn’t Park Inha’s story too heavy? Does her whole family have to die? What if it was her boyfriend who died?”

“Oh, then the love line with Tae Sunwoo would be stronger.”

“Not bad.”

What exactly was not bad about this?

They were straying further and further from the Park Inha I knew.

The nonsensical talk continued endlessly.

Listening to it made me feel like Park Inha’s entire life was being completely negated.

The writer probably felt it even more.

Sure enough, the writer’s expression was turning into a death mask.

“Should we take a break?”

The excited Quartet PD clapped his hands together.

At his words, I let out a small sigh.

Shortly after, the conference room emptied as everyone went out to smoke.

In the silence, only the writer and I sat gloomily.

Get it together, Han Sena.

I raised my hands and slapped both cheeks.

They say even if you enter a tiger’s den, you’ll be fine if you keep your wits about you.

The writer looked at me with a startled expression after I suddenly slapped my own face.

“Writer.”

“Yes…?”

“This meeting is completely ridiculous right now, isn’t it?”

“……Hah…. But what can a rookie writer even do?”

“Writer, push back with me. We didn’t stake everything on this project for this.”

At that, the writer looked shocked once more.

Like their face was saying ‘you staked that much too?’

It might seem excessive.

But I really had died several times even inside that script, and I’d convinced everyone around me to do this.

I had absolutely no intention of making the project this way.

“Those people are saying all that because they want to make this drama well too. So let’s skillfully persuade them and find common ground.”

At my words, the writer finally nodded with determination.

* * *

Twenty minutes later.

The meeting blazed more intensely than ever before.

“Giving backstory to the arsonist? That’s an insult to Park Inha.”

“Right now the arsonist isn’t even human—it’s like an object. HBC will put serious effort into their villain too.”

At the Quartet director’s remark, brief silence fell.

I realized my mistake too.

I finally understood.

Why Quartet kept throwing out these ridiculous settings.

They’d been keeping HBC in check all along.

Plus, since they’d cast me after HBC lost me, they probably felt even more confident this was a fight worth having.

But slapping on settings haphazardly like this would be worse than not doing it at all.

I spoke up in the silence.

“Rather than backstory, let’s emphasize the arsonist’s character traits. What about adding psychopathic tendencies or distinctive characteristics?”

“Mm, psychopath….”

People nodded briefly.

A commonly used trope, but one that always packed a punch.

“For a psychopath, what about having some exhibitionist tendencies?”

The writer quickly supplemented my suggestion.

“How so?”

“What if he deliberately left traces to make Park Inha aware of his existence? Or sent her mail?”

“…!”

“While adding those behaviors, there’s no reason or logic behind his crimes and evil. Just like typical psychopaths.”

“That sounds good! That’s way creepier.”

“That would be genuinely scary, right? Then it could be a special way of treating evil as true evil.”

“I’ve never seen this kind of arsonist in other dramas. This could work.”

For the first time, everyone’s opinions aligned.

From then on, the meeting progressed rapidly.

The atmosphere was completely different from before.

Park Inha’s desperation and pain, the process of convincing her colleagues, even the supporting characters’ traits.

While maintaining these core elements, we discussed what scale to show to overwhelm the audience.

Along with me, everyone’s opinions flew across the table.

After adjourning and reconvening several times, four hours flew by in an instant.

Finally reaching a dramatic compromise in the conference room.

Everyone collapsed with drained faces, completely exhausted.

“Writer, please revise the script accepting only what you can.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Thank you all!”

The writer answered energetically despite their tired expression, eyes shining bright.

“Alright, let’s all go home and rest now.”

“We’ll see you in two weeks after the writer finishes the deadline.”

“I’ll send out the casting call.”

This is really the beginning now.

My heart pounded.