In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 20

Some time later, with three weeks left until the series finale.

We’d finished filming all the remaining scenes on set early, leaving only Yoo Ji-an’s final scene.

The last scene written in the script for Yoo Ji-an.

The moment where she lets go of everything and accepts her fate.

Director Moon stared sharply at the monitor and shouted.

“Ready—action!”

Extras playing reporters swarmed forward, camera flashes exploding.

“Yoo Ji-an-ssi, give us a comment about your feelings when you committed the hit-and-run!”

“What are your plans after your release?”

The lights were blinding.

I frowned as if annoyed by the crowd and barrage of flashes.

“Yoo Ji-an-ssi, do you have any regrets about your engagement and broken engagement with Cha Minho-ssi of Sejin Group?”

Walking in handcuffs without a word, I stopped and looked directly at the reporter who’d asked that last question.

“Regrets?”

The surroundings went quiet for a moment.

“I have no regrets about loving Cha Minho. Not even now.”

Flashes fired in rapid succession.

“What I regret is just… not loving myself as much as I loved Cha Minho. That one thing.”

After finishing my answer, I pushed through the crowd.

Countless questions kept pouring out behind me.

Without listening anymore, I climbed into the transport vehicle.

People pressed against the window, snapping photos.

I stared ahead calmly.

This was the end now.

This was how it ended.

For some reason, I felt at peace.

Perhaps this was when Yoo Ji-an felt relief.

Accepting an unavoidable fate was cruel, but it was also a path that led to a peace-like comfort.

The car’s engine started, and soon we were heading far away, leaving the reporters behind.

“Cut. Okay!”

I closed my eyes briefly and took a long breath.

Then opened the car door and stepped out with a bright expression.

Before I knew it, applause from the staff was pouring out.

* * *

I caught my breath for a moment in the waiting room.

Then Yu-ri-ssi burst in with the staff members.

Carrying an armful of flowers.

“Sena-ssi! You worked so hard!”

Yu-ri-ssi came over and hugged me tightly.

I embraced Yu-ri-ssi, who’d become even thinner from the brutal schedule.

“Yu-ri-ssi, hang in there just a bit longer.”

“I’m dying… Kill me too.”

Everyone giggled at Yu-ri-ssi’s words.

“Sena-ssi, you were amazing right to the end. It really felt like watching Yoo Ji-an now.”

Another staff member handed me flowers.

“Thank you, everyone. Let’s definitely work together again on another project.”

“See you at the wrap party! You have to come!!”

“Yes, I’ll definitely be there.”

I exchanged brief goodbyes with Yu-ri-ssi and the staff, all crushed by their schedules.

Back alone in the empty waiting room, I sat in a chair.

The time to say goodbye to Yoo Ji-an was approaching.

It had been such a long, long encounter.

She was a character I’d shared my heart with more intimately than anyone else in the world.

Now I needed to prepare to send her off with a clear heart.

But not yet…

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I wasn’t ready for that yet.

This emotion was a first in my entire acting career.

Perhaps this meant I was finally doing proper acting now.

When I thought about whether I’d conveyed Yoo Ji-an’s life well to people, at least I had no lingering attachment or regret.

Then that’s enough…

I tried to console myself like that.

I held up the script to fan my hot face.

My heart wouldn’t settle down.

If Yoo Ji-an were watching me now, what would she say to me?

Would she say I did well?

Would she say I was at least a bit better than in my previous life?

I just hoped I hadn’t disappointed her…

I closed my eyes and clasped my hands together, as if having a conversation with Yoo Ji-an.

Yoo Ji-an, thank you for everything.

* * *

That evening.

For some reason I didn’t want to leave the filming location, so I watched the other actors’ shoots.

The other actors too seemed reluctant with the remaining filming schedule running out, hovering nearby like me.

Whenever our eyes met, we’d clasp hands and comfort each other.

The evening shoot was filled with Park Hoon sunbaenim’s final scene.

I was watching sunbaenim’s performance while taking notes in the script when…

“Ah, after working so hard, rest a bit during the remaining time. Sena-ssi.”

Senior actors offered words of concern.

An awkward smile naturally emerged.

“Haha, I need to watch and learn from the seniors’ acting, quickly.”

“You little glutton. Trying to steal my bowl of rice!”

Then Park Hoon sunbaenim, who’d been waiting for his shoot while listening to the conversation, shouted playfully.

The surrounding staff simultaneously burst into laughter.

“Oh, sunbaenim. I’m curious about uncle’s downfall too.”

When I answered, Park Hoon sunbaenim burst into hearty laughter.

“Indeed.”

Then he walked over here and gulped down an ion drink he’d prepared.

“Sena-ssi, you know.”

He spoke in a slightly calmer voice.

“I’ve always played supporting roles, so I met characters briefly and my immersion became quite dulled, you know?”

Suddenly Park Hoon sunbaenim smiled and opened up about his acting.

It was a first.

Hearing sunbaenim’s inner thoughts.

“But watching the Yoo Ji-an you performed, Ji-an’s uncle became special to me too. Through someone else’s character, my character became extraordinary.”

For a moment… my heart felt heavy.

Could I really influence people this much?

My acting did that?

“So thank you. Thank you, Sena-ssi.”

Tears threatened to come, so I hurriedly bowed my head and offered my thanks in return.

The moment sunbaenim finished speaking, Director Moon’s voice came from behind.

“Actor Park Hoon, you’re ready, right?”

“Yes!”

Park Hoon sunbaenim answered in a booming voice.

“Let’s go! Hang in there just a bit longer, everyone!”

“Fighting!”

Energetic cheers from staff members rang out from here and there.

“I’m finally free too!”

Park Hoon sunbaenim walked into the set.

Then winked toward me.

Watching that playful gesture, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ready—action!”

Buzz—

Just then, my phone vibrated.

I carefully moved away and checked the message.

It was from Management Director Kwon Minyeong.

– Sena-ssi, I recruited the actor. When’s a good time for you?

* * *

This time, the place where I sat across from the director was a small sushi restaurant in a Seongsu-dong alley.

It was our first meal together.

We slowly took bites and clinked our beer glasses—clink.

“This wasn’t who I expected.”

The director smiled awkwardly at my words.

“I never thought it would be Actor Yoon Youngjae.”

Then the director answered with a confident voice.

“Actor Yoon Youngjae, a veteran actor with such a solid filmography, was someone who mixed your and my thoughts fifty-fifty.”

Actor Yoon Youngjae.

The person the Management Director brought as an answer to my request.

Speaking of Actor Yoon Youngjae, even at this point in time, he was a senior in his early 60s.

It would be more accurate to call him Teacher Yoon Youngjae.

After debuting, Teacher Yoon Youngjae spent 20 years moving through the theater scene building his position.

After that, when he moved to broadcasting, he became famous for thoroughly following only artistic merit in his acting.

He was famous not only for refusing all commercials and CFs, but also for scolding juniors with his stubborn insistence that even the smallest supporting role should be cherished.

Therefore, naturally he’d had no agency until now.

And most importantly.

This great senior was…

“In my prediction, the Korean Wave won’t fade. Rather the opposite. The trend of Korean content being consumed domestically and internationally is increasing day by day. In proportion, talented Korean actors will also be able to make names for themselves in the world. Someday.”

The director predicted the future once again.

At this point, I almost suspected this person also crossed time like me.

Teacher Yoon Youngjae was actually one of that actor.

Actor that, in the world I’d lived in, advanced to Hollywood. At age 80, he showed brilliant acting, and grabbed several trophies at overseas academy ceremonies for that role.

He was an actor who would remain legendary beyond now, beyond the future I’d lived in, into an even more distant future.

“Acting not fixed by age, passion, and roles created with craftsmanship. Those things will move people. When people like Actor Yoon Youngjae start getting attention, it’ll already be too late. We need to secure them first, that’s my thinking.”

A natural laugh escaped at the director’s words.

I lost, I lost.

“Director, do you take speech lessons separately?”

The director smiled awkwardly.

Then added more words.

“Anyway… the short-term goal is to bring in Actor Yoon Youngjae while announcing to people. This is what kind of company we are, we’ll work with these kinds of actors. Like that.”

I nodded at the director’s words.

Probably if we brought Teacher Yoon Youngjae into the company, recruiting other stubborn actors walking the same path would become even easier.

If we only had one or two such actors, maintaining the company would be difficult, but with several, we could make enough profit to maintain our principles if not achieve excellent surplus.

At this point, I concluded my thinking had been shallow.

“Director, I want to apologize for something. My thinking was shallow. I think I’ve been a bit arrogant lately.”

What good does knowing the future do?

When my thinking is this short-sighted.

The director looked at me with a startled face.

“The reason I made this request was actually because while I felt anticipation, I was also a bit worried. Our goal is really good, but the process to achieve it wasn’t clearly drawn for me.”

Then the director choked on the sushi she was eating—cough—and put down her chopsticks.

“Sena-ssi, why are you suddenly reflecting like this?”

“But you gave me an answer like this. In a way that exceeded my thinking. I must have been too afraid of trial and error.”

“It was thanks to Sena-ssi’s words that my idea to bring Actor Yoon Youngjae gained strength. From ‘let’s just bring them’ recklessly, my thinking extended to plans for utilizing our contracted actors. Not just my personal values, but toward considering the company’s capital too.”

That’s right.

This is what Kwon Minyeong is like.

A sentence from the director’s interview came to mind.

‘I wanted to create a company worthy of actors. A company where good acting is the standard, not money.’

The “profitable actors” I’d been thinking of—the director probably thought of them the same way too, at first.

Even so…

The fact that she ultimately presented this actor to me must mean this.

Long-term success potential, sincerity as an actor.

Short-term, bringing in this actor would naturally lead to recruiting other actors who’d follow.

Maintaining her position while appropriately reflecting my thinking.

It was a wise strategy.

Well, the reason I wanted to work with this person was exactly for this kind of approach.

Seemingly pure white, but with a strong side.

Moreover, through excellent judgment, the director had truly brought an actor who would succeed in the future.

I felt ashamed for trying to test her just because I knew the future a bit more.

“Director. I don’t know much about this, but how long does it take to make business cards?”

“What?”

The director asked back with a puzzled expression.

“To start full-scale company management.”

“It won’t take too long.”

“Director, I’ll join your company.”

The director looked into my eyes with a surprised expression.