In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 48

A few days later.

Finally catching my breath at the office for the first time in a while…

That didn’t last long.

Minyeong unnie sat in front of her monitor with a rather serious expression, handling various tasks.

“Unnie.”

“…”

“Unnie?”

Radio silence.

It was about my Rookie Award nomination.

I hadn’t realized a single nomination would make the agency this busy.

Before I knew it, unnie had buried herself in mountains of paperwork along with the increased staff.

I sat there blankly, staring at unnie.

I’m the one who got nominated—why is she the one suffering?

This is quite strange.

The staff who’d delivered the nomination news, Teacher, who’d worried I might get ahead of myself, even me—

None of us had thought it would become this big an issue.

But the public response was different.

The moment award nominees were announced, my name hadn’t left various portal sites for days straight.

Provocative articles were the baseline, and rival candidates’ companies even picked fights with us.

Plus, thanks to the nomination, interest in Palace Flower currently filming and even the Morning Dew commercial shoot got renewed attention.

Unnie gulped down her water and finally opened her mouth.

“Hey, I haven’t slept in days because of you.”

“Uh, unnie, your dark circles are… This is gratitude, right?”

“Yeah, you little punk. Looks like Morning Dew sales jumped quite a bit too. They reached out wanting to sign the next contract.”

The Morning Dew renewal product that had caught on through TV advertising gained even more momentum from this influx, so their side was rushing to secure the next contract.

“So this time I’m adding a running guarantee clause.”

A running guarantee meant receiving additional modeling fees proportional to sales increases once sales growth exceeded a certain threshold.

It was mainly a contract method used by movie actors, and she was saying she’d insert that into an advertising contract.

“Wait, does that work?”

“We’ll toss it out there and see.”

“Hmm…”

I slowly nodded.

If it worked out, it would definitely benefit my side.

If Palace Flower did well, by the time it wrapped my recognition would be even higher.

I could earn more than just setting a basic contract fee.

After mulling it over briefly, I looked at unnie and spoke.

“Unnie, but make sure it doesn’t overlap with Palace Flower filming as much as possible.”

“Right. Why wouldn’t I? You fought so hard to get that role. But what about after Palace Flower wraps?”

“What do you mean?”

“Variety shows and stuff. Any interest in going on? You already filmed that commercial.”

Ah.

This was unexpected too.

I felt a bit confused for a moment.

In my previous life’s memories, Minyeong unnie wasn’t the type to push rookies onto variety shows at all.

“Have I gotten offers or something?”

“Offers have been pouring in from all over for a while now, but I held off a bit since you’re filming. For now, your opinion matters most.”

After hearing unnie’s words, I found myself briefly conflicted.

Variety shows, variety shows. Me on variety shows… suddenly my confidence plummeted.

Going on to act cute, do physical comedy, run around like crazy…

The prospect felt dizzying.

As if she’d expected this, unnie looked at me struggling with the decision.

“Here’s what I think. The entertainment industry has this tendency to shove any slightly hot rookie into variety shows to make quick money.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“But looking long-term, that’s not necessarily a good strategy. For established stars, it can reset their stuck image and help them connect with the public in a friendly way, so it works out in multiple ways. But for rookies, it can backfire.”

This was an unexpected perspective from unnie.

As expected—there’s a reason she’s an entertainment company CEO.

Unnie continued.

“Since you only have one or two famous roles under your belt, they craft variety characters based on those, which can solidify your image. That becomes an obstacle to growing into an all-around actor.”

I found myself nodding like an idiot at those words.

If unnie says so, then it must be so.

She was someone who knew how to invest in actors with a long-term perspective.

“Still, just in case. Do you have any variety shows you want to do?”

At those words, I shook my head back and forth.

“Not yet. I want to focus on my work. Even if I have time, I’d rather take a short break and experience various things rather than variety shows.”

At that, unnie smiled meaningfully.

“Alright, I’ll prepare something.”

“Huh? Prepare what?”

Without answering, unnie turned back to her monitor and became absorbed again.

Only the sound of keyboard typing filled the office as I sat there awkwardly, then quietly stood up in the solemn atmosphere.

* * *

My next destination was school for the first time in a while.

“Huh? Wow! Look, it’s Han Sena for real.”

“Really? We’re in the same year, right? Isn’t she a senior?”

“I think she delayed graduation because of work? Something like that?”

From the entrance onward, murmurs drifted from here and there.

Right, that’s me.

I’d been so swamped during Flat Shoes that I’d hastily filed for a delayed graduation, pushing back my schedule by a whole year.

Worried about just drawing attention, I’d planned to slip in, grab my diploma, and leave.

But the school’s response was,

‘Student Sena, please give the graduation speech representing the Theater and Film department.’

A suddenly important responsibility had been thrust upon me.

Plus, I was only filming my second project, and they wanted me to give a speech…

There were plenty of friends who’d made it big much earlier, and if you counted people from within the school who’d been exposed to mass media, there were already dozens, hundreds.

After receiving the request, I’d hesitated about whether this spotlight was really mine to take, when unnie shoved me forward.

‘Of course you have to do it—why wouldn’t you!’

I’d been swayed by her persuasion that ‘you’ll have things only you can say.’

Receiving the gazes turned my way, I adjusted my coat collar.

I hurried toward the waiting room.

That’s when I spotted a familiar silhouette in the distance.

“Hello, sunbaenim!”

Someone bent deeply at the waist toward me.

“…Ah, hello!”

Who are you?

Except for my last semester, I could barely remember department members I’d only occasionally run into during classes.

They were faces from a full 20 years ago, after all.

“Sunbaenim! Let’s take a photo together!”

Just as someone approached me, another person smoothly stepped up and blocked them.

“Hey, sunbaenim’s busy! She’s here to give the graduation speech, you know?”

It was a familiar back.

Seon Yuseok had effortlessly handled my hoobae.

Then throughout the walk to the auditorium, he started acting like my bodyguard.

“No autographs. This isn’t a fan meeting!”

“Hey, tone it down a little?”

I poked Seon Yuseok in the back.

But Seon Yuseok answered without caring.

“Can’t do that. What if someone rushes up acting all friendly and causes a scandal?”

“Oh really? And what’s that got to do with you?”

“What? Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Seon Yuseok stopped walking and looked down at me.

“I’m noona’s closest hoobae, aren’t I?”

Honestly.

When did that even happen without me knowing?

I let out an incredulous laugh at the absurdity as we arrived in front of the auditorium.

Just as I was about to enter the waiting room, an unexpected person stood waiting by the door.

“You finally made it big, huh? Annoying brat.”

“Oh, Kim Eunseo!”

It was a face I was seeing after nearly a year.

What is this uncomfortable familiarity?

Obviously Kim Eunseo wasn’t even a graduate this year, yet she’d gone out of her way to come to school just to be difficult.

Coming all the way to my graduation ceremony for my sake… isn’t this interest?

This is why they say even hate is scary.

Seon Yuseok pushed my back, worried another fight might break out.

Then Kim Eunseo irritably shoved Seon Yuseok’s back aside.

“Go grab a good seat. One where you can see me best during my speech.”

I grinned at Kim Eunseo.

“And thanks for the congratulations!”

At that, Kim Eunseo scoffed.

“I didn’t just come to congratulate you, you know. I’m getting cast in a project too.”

“Noona’s getting cast?”

Seon Yuseok’s eyes widened.

I was equally surprised and looked at Kim Eunseo, whose next words were even more surprising.

“Yeah, an independent film.”

An unexpected move.

“I’m going to make it as a serious actress. Better than you. Way better!”

I couldn’t help but smile at Kim Eunseo’s words.

“Sure. I’ll definitely monitor it for you. You monitor my next project too. I’m doing something really good, so I’ll need discerning eyes.”

“At least you know something.”

Kim Eunseo huffed and turned to walk into the auditorium.

Shortly after, behind the stage platform.

“Sena-ssi! You’re on now.”

A staff member gave me the cue.

I took a deep breath.

This nervousness was different from acting.

Soon the staff member nodded and opened the curtain.

I slowly stepped onto the stage.

Standing before the microphone.

“Hello. I’m Han Sena from the Theater and Film Department, representing Seowon Arts University graduates.”

Thunderous applause poured from students packed into both floors of the auditorium.

“First, I’d like to thank the faculty who entrusted me with this speech representing our proud Theater and Film Department.”

I carefully scanned the people in the audience.

Sparkling, shining eyes.

They were the eyes of those who dreamed, just like me.

“To talk about myself—I failed auditions for three straight years before debuting in a supporting role in <Cinderella in Flat Shoes>.”

Suddenly a brief memory from my previous life flashed through my mind.

My twenty-three-year-old self, so desperate for that first role I’d managed to land, clinging to it gratefully.

I realized too late that I shouldn’t have done that.

“From the moment I started dreaming of becoming an actress, somehow talented people always surrounded me, and those people achieved results early on. From former child actors to rising rookies. And their achievements… gave me impatience.”

I could see Kim Eunseo sitting at the far edge of the second floor.

I’m not so different from you.

That’s what I wanted to say to people through this speech.

“However, when I occasionally see people who debut well past middle age, my impatience feels arrogant. An actor’s birth and lifespan are just that fickle and unknowable.”

I could see several people nodding along in agreement.

“I simply stand at this podium as a rookie currently filming my second project. I’m just one person who thirsts for work, like all of you. I also cannot measure the lifespan remaining in my acting career. As one such person, I speak through my own voice the thoughts held by everyone sitting here today.”

The tension eased and the words I wanted to say flowed from my heart.

“We may have to endure long periods of obscurity, or briefly become the center of attention only to be forgotten. There may be times when effort goes unrewarded, and moments when we can’t tell if something is luck or deserved compensation. However, in all those moments, I hope each of us pursues our own art. Unbroken, unswayed, never forgetting that we as individuals are each our own world. I hope both I and all of you manage to accomplish just that.”

After finishing the speech, I slightly pulled back from the microphone.

A brief silence settled over the auditorium.

I was caught up in the lingering emotion myself when worry crossed my mind.

Was I too serious?

Was the topic no good?

Just then, applause started from the front rows one by one, and soon the auditorium filled with clapping.

“Ah…”

Watching that scene, emotion surged through me.

I stepped down from the platform and bowed deeply.