In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 187

A small bar, some time later.

“I can’t help it. I’m tearing up too.”

To commemorate the final episode, the director, staff, and actors had gathered to watch the broadcast while holding a wrap party.

Several staff members and actors pulled out tissues and dabbed at their tears.

On screen, I was sobbing out loud, fully immersed as Park Inha.

Watching that, I unconsciously clenched my fists.

To keep from crying.

I bit down hard on my trembling lips.

The explosive emotions I’d felt back then were still so vivid.

Fortunately, everyone’s attention was fixed on the screen, so no one noticed me.

“Whew.”

The thought crossed my mind that I might never be able to rewatch this drama.

I wasn’t usually the type to watch my own dramas or movies over and over, but <Night of Fire> would be especially difficult to revisit.

The spirit of Park Inha, which had felt alive and breathing inside my body, was gradually fading away.

But probably, every time I thought of Park Inha from now on, it would still hurt a little.

Everyone’s eyes were glued to the TV.

The drama was truly racing toward the end now.

Tae Sunwoo approached Park Inha, who was packing up her belongings and clearing out her desk at the station.

‘Park Inha, what are you going to do now?’

‘I’m going to get lunch.’

‘No, I mean what are you going to do going forward?’

‘…I’m going to think about it over lunch.’

‘Really…? What are you going to eat?’

Park Inha didn’t answer, just stared silently down at the desk she’d cleared clean.

A place she’d never return to.

She might have been thinking that the place itself hadn’t been so bad after all.

Park Inha wiped away the expression filled with various thoughts and took a step forward.

Tae Sunwoo stood there staring blankly at the back of Park Inha, who kept ignoring him to the very end.

He didn’t show it, but looking a bit hurt, he tapped Park Inha’s desk with his finger for no reason.

That’s when Park Inha turned around and looked at Tae Sunwoo.

‘Sunbaenim, do you like gimbap?’

‘Hm?’

‘I was going to get gimbap. Want to come with me?’

At that, Tae Sunwoo’s expression instantly brightened.

Tae Sunwoo quickly lowered his lips and cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘Come with you? For gimbap… well, doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I really like gimbap.’

‘You like gimbap?’

‘Yes. You asked me before what I liked. First of all, gimbap.’

Tae Sunwoo nodded as if entering it into his brain.

The two slowly left the station.

The weather for going to get gimbap was incredibly sunny.

As the door opened and sunlight poured in, Park Inha briefly squinted.

‘It’s warm….’

That was Park Inha’s final line in the drama.

A scene where Park Inha, whose life had always been nothing but scorching heat, felt the world as warm for the first time.

Even while acting it, I’d thought it was a simple yet moving line.

Before she knew it, Tae Sunwoo was carrying Park Inha’s bags and gesturing for her to hurry.

Park Inha smiled faintly and walked over.

As the two walked side by side, subtitles appeared below them.

[To all the viewers who loved <Night of Fire> with such passion, we sincerely thank you.]

“Ah, so refreshingly understated.”

“Sob, it’s over.”

Sniffling sounds came from here and there.

Reactions circulated among the staff.

“That romance teasing is such a tease.”

“Right? I want to see more.”

“I heard this writer hates anything cringy to the extreme.”

“That explains it. I like this better though. It feels like Park Inha and Tae Sunwoo.”

Listening to that, I nodded along too.

Beside me, Choi Sunha, who’d been downing more than ten rounds of soju-beer cocktails, also nodded.

“Mm, I like this too.”

His alcohol tolerance was incredible—he’d downed that much but his complexion hadn’t changed at all.

“Do you like the ending, sunbaenim?”

“Yeah. Any more romance would’ve been scary.”

“Scary?”

“I think Sena-ssi’s fans would’ve cursed me out.”

“Hey, what are you talking about?”

The people around us who’d heard Choi Sunha giggled.

Choi Sunha shrugged and smoothly stood up, then started mixing soju-beer cocktails for the youngest staff members.

Watching that made me grin too.

I listened to the chatter and clinking glasses on the table and drifted into thought for a moment.

It really is over.

One huge chapter that had felt like it would never end had closed.

Every possession and every shoot had been hard, but <Night of Fire> was the work with the deepest and longest aftereffects.

As always, I silently said my goodbyes alone.

‘Goodbye, Park Inha.’

* * *

A small piece of good news found its way to me.

A few days later, I visited the counseling center I’d been stopping by regularly.

“You’ve improved noticeably. You’re having fewer nightmares these days, right?”

The doctor adjusted her glasses and asked gently.

“Yes.”

I answered with a slight smile.

Then the doctor asked with a somewhat curious expression.

“Did filming the final episode also influence your real-life emotions?”

“I think so.”

I answered and nodded slightly.

At that, the doctor wrote something down in the chart.

“How fascinating. Of course, this happens occasionally among actors. Finding healing by possessing a character through experiencing something similar in real life.”

Hearing that surprised me a little.

It was definitely something that could happen to others too.

Though it would be extremely rare.

“But I’ve almost never seen PTSD treatment work this well. Especially someone improving this much in such a short time.”

“Right….”

The doctor looked at me with genuinely curious eyes.

I awkwardly averted my gaze and smiled.

Every time I came to counseling, I had to leave out the part about possessing the scripts, which made conversations more than a little uncomfortable.

Plus, my condition couldn’t be perfectly explained without mentioning the script possessions.

Who would believe that anyway.

The doctor smiled at me.

“Fortunate.”

“It’s thanks to you, doctor. Being able to separate from Park Inha on set because you suggested methods—that’s what helped me get healthy.”

“I also gained data thanks to you, Sena-ssi. I even pondered whether forcing separation isn’t always the answer.”

“Thank you.”

“Anyway, you still can’t let your guard down. Keep coming regularly for the next few months just like now.”

“Yes. I understand.”

I answered and stood up from my seat.

* * *

I thought this would be a heartwarming year-end wrapping everything up nicely.

“Ack, so cold! Brrr….”

I’d been listening to cheerful carols and feeling light for once, but here I was on this freezing day getting doused with cold water out of nowhere.

Among the various variety show offers <Night of Fire>’s cast received, there was one program everyone found interesting at the same time.

None other than a TV variety show that invited guests as “punishment proxies” to play games.

A recently rising variety show called <Worldview Convergence>.

It had a bizarre system where the variety team members split into teams and played games with absurd rules, and all the punishments went to the invited guests.

But the team that got picked today happened to be spectacularly bad at games.

Every time I got doused with cold water, the comedians playing terrible soccer broke into cold sweats.

“W-wait. Time, time.”

“This doesn’t feel right!”

“We’re going to get ten million antis! Why are we playing this game!!”

“Is our show getting canceled?”

At that, the PDs and camera directors grinned wickedly.

Then, as if refusing to give them any quarter, they blew the whistle again.

Swoosh—

“Ugh. Pwah!”

My teeth chattered from the cold.

Next to me, Choi Sunha, who hadn’t gotten hit by a single drop, stared at me blankly.

“You’re really having a tough year-end.”

“What?”

“Scorching hot, freezing cold. No middle ground, none at all.”

Choi Sunha annoyingly clicked his tongue.

I glared at Choi Sunha sharply.

“Just you wait, sunbaenim. You know we’re playing games too, right?”

“Wow, Sena-ssi. That’s vicious.”

“Sunha-ssi, be human and switch spots with your hoobae just once.”

“Huh?”

Choi Sunha’s eyes went wide.

Mine lit up too when I heard that.

The people around kept egging him on.

“Let’s do a team change once! Team change! At this rate Sena-ssi’s going to catch a cold.”

After hesitating briefly, the PD gave an okay sign.

I shoved Choi Sunha aside while shivering wrapped in a towel and quickly switched spots.

But really, what on earth got into them.

A moment later, the team that had been scoring the whole time made their first mistake and lost.

So in the end, I.

Swoosh—

“Ahhh!! Pu, pwah.”

Ended up looking like a complete drowned rat.

The studio erupted into laughter.

* * *

Minyeong unnie’s office, after a long time.

I sat on the sofa watching TV and giggling.

‘Nice shot!’

On screen, footage from earlier was playing—me beating Choi Sunha in a 1:1 game and making him do the punishment.

Unnie looked at me sprawled on the sofa and grinned.

“Your face really opened up after filming ended.”

“Hehe.”

“Is life bearable now that it’s over?”

“Yes.”

‘The punishment is sunbaenim’s dance!!’

When I assigned the punishment, Choi Sunha’s expression stiffened in a way I hadn’t seen at the time.

“Pft, puhaha.”

Flashy music started playing…

Choi Sunha, who’d been standing there as if his thought process had stopped, slowly started moving his pelvis.

‘???’

Question marks appeared in the subtitles.

Everyone started doubling over with shocked faces.

Choi Sunha shamelessly continued his pelvis dance.

He crossed his arms and bounced his pelvis around doing waves.

“Oh my.”

Minyeong unnie spit out the coffee she’d been drinking.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Choi Sunha dragged me to center stage.

I looked at Choi Sunha in shock, and people started cheering like crazy.

In that atmosphere where I absolutely couldn’t break the flow, I felt the pressure.

In the end, I squeezed my eyes shut and started dancing too.

“Ahhh. I can’t watch anymore. Turn it off.”

“Keh.”

While I frantically looked around for the remote, Minyeong unnie, who’d choked on her coffee, coughed.

“You’re secretly proud of your dancing, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen you dance, kid.”

“I didn’t do it because I wanted to!”

Minyeong unnie ignored me completely and sat at the table looking at the monitor.

“Oh, it’s here.”

“What is?”

Minyeong unnie looked at the monitor while clicking the mouse.

Giggling sounds came through.

“What is it?”

“Want to see?”

“Yeah.”

I got up from the sofa and walked over to the monitor.

“Ack, is that the thing? Wow.”

Inside the monitor, my emoticon samples were moving around.

Starting with all the characters I’d played—Yoo Jian, Song Sunim, Lee Jihyeon, Emily, Yoo Dayang, Park Inha—and extending to the times I’d made a fool of myself on variety shows.

‘Sena-ticon Candidate List’

[Dance! King! Dance! Legend!]

[You don’t want to marry me? Why?]

[May Your Majesty have mercy.]

[Didn’t mom tell you not to?]

[Want to go get food?]

[Wow~]

Looking at the various emoticons made me laugh awkwardly.

“People really like these?”

“Don’t even get me started. Thousands of people already reserved them.”

“Eek.”

The idea of people using emoticons of me felt somehow embarrassing.

I mentally resolved never to tell Mom and Dad about this and turned my head.