In This Life I Will Die as an Actress Not a Villainess Chapter 93

After finishing the nerve-wracking improvised scene, filming continued without rest.

Budget constraints meant we couldn’t afford to go over schedule by even a single day.

In the story, the adoptive grandfather who was a carpenter brought in a large piece of wood.

Bella’s eyes widened as she approached Grandfather.

“Wow! What’s that?”

It was the first lively expression I’d seen from her in a while.

Grandfather Richard answered.

“I’m going to make a dining table. I’ll carve it from this whole piece.”

I reached out to touch the unfamiliar wood, but Richard caught my wrist.

“Dad told you to always wear gloves when touching wood.”

Richard helped me put gloves on my hands.

I smiled at this father of mine.

The thought crossed my mind of my Korean father, waiting desperately for his only daughter back home.

“In Korea, they call family ‘shikgu,’ don’t they?”

I looked at this father before me who’d even studied Korean.

Richard, with his graying hair and beard, grinned.

“It’s a word that came from eating meals together. A warm, wonderful word.”

Listening to Richard’s words, I touched the wood again with my gloved hands.

“I’m making this with the hope that our family will live happily together, eating at this table.”

This wood felt like a talisman Dad was creating.

Though Emily had been the one to first push for the move, once Bella joined in, the whole family united with one heart and mind.

The place they’d moved to after building a new house was California.

Far from Pennsylvania where they’d lived before, the bright, warm sunshine of the Southwest brought peace to the heart.

It was completely opposite to Pennsylvania, where the skies stayed overcast for long seasons.

This major move required help from many people.

Especially that person.

I looked out the window at Kim Heejeong, examining every corner outside the house.

Kim Heejeong had ultimately granted my first and last wish.

‘I’m repaying a debt. I have no intention of approaching you or seeking forgiveness.’

She’d left just that one cold statement.

And she really did keep her distance throughout the work, trying not to mix with the family gatherings, staying on the periphery.

I watched Kim Heejeong outside, meticulously inspecting every corner of the house.

Richard, sensing my gaze, spoke lightly.

“Once the table’s finished, we should all eat together. Your mother too.”

I’d been watching out the window when I startled and looked at Richard.

Richard wrinkled his nose.

Without realizing it, I bit my lip hard.

A frustrating situation where I couldn’t say I liked it or that I hated it.

I loathed Kim Heejeong terribly, but that hatred tormented me so much.

Perhaps Emily would’ve wanted to let go of these feelings by now.

A line seemed to come from deep in my core.

“I don’t even understand my own heart, Dad.”

Richard nodded as if he understood everything.

Seeing his face made me choke up, and I forced down the emotions.

Crying wasn’t in the script.

At the same time, I thought about it.

This project was truly remarkable.

In my previous life, I’d calculated everything while preparing for filming—emotions, breathing, eye contact, sometimes even how many times to blink.

After starting to fall into the script world, I’d naturally immerse myself in the character and act.

And now, I was acting in a way I’d never tried before.

Emotions burst out spontaneously in each situation.

The acting that emerged was always different from my calculations, but strangely, this unfamiliar adventure wasn’t bad at all.

In fact, I felt a fresh thrill each time and enjoyed it.

I turned my gaze to look at the gloves on my hands.

It hadn’t been in the script.

Simply, looking at the gloves made me feel like Emily was no longer lonely.

Then I turned my gaze again to look at Bella, who was touching the wood with me.

Somehow I felt a little more confident.

Though my birth mother had abandoned me, I was loved like this, so I felt I could share my love well with my own child too.

I decided to let myself be deceived for a moment by the false hope that this new move and fresh start offered.

* * *

That evening.

We immediately began filming the scene where they sat around the completed table for a meal.

Before filming, the director spoke.

“Alright, we’re almost there. Let’s push through a bit more. For this scene, I’ll leave it to the actors’ improvisation. Feel free to go with it. Ready, action!”

Richard immediately clapped his hands.

“Barbecue’s ready! Come on over.”

Bella ran to the table with a bright smile.

“The table’s huge.”

“If your classmates stay over and we’re short on beds, we’ll have you sleep on top of here.”

Bella burst into giggles at Richard’s improvised humor.

Bella was gradually regaining her laughter.

Then.

Knock knock knock—

Someone knocked on the front door.

Aiden approached and opened the door as if he already knew who it was.

Meanwhile, I smiled awkwardly, managing my expression as it began to stiffen.

The door opened, and everyone’s eyes turned toward the same spot.

There stood Kim Heejeong, her expression frozen just as awkwardly as mine.

A moment of silence settled over the house.

“Come on in. We just finished setting everything out.”

Sandra broke the silence with a warm voice.

Kim Heejeong nodded and approached the table.

“Well then, shall we eat? Emily, Aiden, Bella. Congratulations on the move! And thank you, Heejeong.”

Hearing Richard’s words, we all sat down and picked up our forks and knives.

In the cheerful meal atmosphere, only a quiet stillness flowed between Kim Heejeong and me.

Lost in thought, I slowly chewed my food.

After this meal ended, Kim Heejeong would return to Korea.

True to her personality, Kim Heejeong had even refused my parents’ request to stay for just one night.

I put a small piece of steak in my mouth and looked at Kim Heejeong.

So this is what Kim Heejeong’s face looks like when she eats and chews.

I stared intently at that face as if committing it to memory one last time.

Kim Heejeong, sensing my gaze, looked at me.

Our eyes met briefly in silence.

Then Kim Heejeong turned her head and focused on eating again without a word.

* * *

After the meal, on the terrace.

Kim Heejeong and I stood alone together in the center of several installed cameras.

Only the sound of insects filled this place—no staff stood nearby.

The lighting had been set up in advance too.

It was the director’s consideration for the actors filming the final scene.

Standing there facing each other, just the two of us, felt strange.

Jang Jeongseon sunbaenim looked at me silently with deep eyes.

I felt truly like Emily, hesitating over what words to say, when Kim Heejeong before me spoke a line not in the script.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you eat. Today.”

“…”

I was startled by those words.

To hide my feelings, I quickly turned my head.

It was the sunbaenim’s improvisation.

So she’d been thinking the same thing I had during the table scene?

Flustered, I just stared at the grass…

“Instead of spending a lifetime raising a child like other people, I chose to build houses.”

Kim Heejeong calmly unfolded her lines.

Hearing that, I slowly turned my head again to look at Kim Heejeong.

“I liked that. For me.”

“…You never asked.”

“Exactly. Since you didn’t ask. That’s why I’m telling you first.”

“…”

“You didn’t get angry, didn’t resent me, didn’t ask why I did it. You wanted to ask, didn’t you? Why I didn’t raise you.”

But… hearing the reason I’d been abandoned, my heart began to calm.

It was inexplicable.

“The life of architect Kim Heejeong was my choice. I had to give you up, but I never regretted it for a single moment. This is my way of taking responsibility for that choice. However.”

“However?”

“I hope your choice meets a happy ending. More than mine did.”

This was Kim Heejeong’s farewell.

Hearing those words, I leaned against the terrace wall.

Then Kim Heejeong and I stood side by side, gazing in the same direction into the distance.

A long, long silence flowed.

* * *

After the dreamlike filming, I returned to my Korean home to find that early winter had arrived, having passed November completely.

The American schedule had wrapped up with a brief production report meeting.

The film had entered post-production.

For the first time in recent memory, my year-end schedule was completely empty too.

Guess I’m unemployed for a while now.

I sniffled at the colder weather and shook out my wet hair.

The post-editing should be almost done by now.

It’s about time I heard something.

Just as I picked up my phone, a message flew in from Director Raymond.

-Sena, we’ve been invited to the Snowfall Film Festival!

Oh, Snowfall?

Snowfall was the dream stage for directors making art films and newly debuted filmmakers.

While its scale wasn’t among the world’s largest, its prestige certainly didn’t fall behind the majors.

For those who loved independent and art films, it held the greatest authority.

How should I put it—the most major of the minors, the most minor of the majors, that kind of film festival.

In both this life and my past life combined, attending a film festival would be a first.

My heart pounded pleasantly.

My joy at being invited to the film festival was short-lived.

-But there’s a slight problem. Our screening ended up overlapping with Warners’ release date.

Huh?

How is that possible?

Considering all the CG work in the Warners film, even if they’d started filming around the same time, reaching final completion should take at least another year.

Then another message arrived.

This time from Aiden.

-Sena! You got the news, right? It’s Warners again. We dodged <Fabulous>, but now we’re up against <Ables>.

Reading Aiden’s message made the situation clear.

The Warners film <Hometown> would face was <Ables>, the second film in the series.

In sequence, it was right before <Fabulous>, which I’d auditioned for.

Don’t tell me.

With an uneasy feeling, I quickly logged onto the internet.

Sure enough, <Hometown>, Warners, <Ables>, my name, and Lee Nara’s name were all lined up in the real-time search rankings.

I sighed.

Articles with clickbait titles were pouring out.

[Han Sena vs Lee Nara, Third Showdown!]

[Han Sena’s Hometown vs Lee Nara’s Warners!]

[Han Sena: ‘Sunbaenim, I’ll be at the film festival first~’ Heading to Snowfall!]

[Han Sena’s Reckless Path, How Far Will It Go?]

It’s not even my film going against Lee Nara’s film, yet they’re going this far…

Checking the first article, it had been posted four hours ago.

‘Four hours ago? That can’t be right.’

Even I, one of the cast members, had just found out.

How did these people get the information? From where?

Then another message flew in from Director Raymond.

It contained a detailed explanation of the situation.

-Sena, don’t worry too much about the articles. Since we were invited to Snowfall, we decided to hold our world premiere there, but we only found out late that it overlaps with <Ables>.

-I didn’t want to give up Snowfall just because of Warners. It might be my greed, but since the rivalry structure was already created even before we started filming, I don’t think we need to avoid it.

-Plus, our goals are different from Warners’~^^ I really enjoyed this project.

I chuckled at the last message.

He’s unexpectedly cute in weird moments like this.

The director’s explanations made perfect sense too.

There was no need to let the media manipulate us by constantly using Warners and Lee Nara to frame narratives.

And we could use this constant buzz to our advantage too.

It would gradually increase interest in the director’s film, which hadn’t been well-known in Korea.

Our audience numbers should grow.

Let’s not waste energy on useless things anymore.

I turned off my phone screen and started drying my hair.

“Oh right, what happened with that?”

I’d barely put down my phone when I picked it up again and sent another message to the director.

-Director, what happened with the footage where the hunters appeared?

A reply flew back immediately.

-We got their consent safely. Even received an apology. They asked me to tell you they’re sorry too.

I widened my eyes at the message.

Those people?

How suddenly?

-They were right on the verge of getting caught by a civil organization and animal protection society for hunting in a no-hunting zone. We made a deal of sorts~^^

“Ah.”

The director had hidden Zhuge Liang qualities.

Relieved, I put down my phone again.

But to attend Snowfall, I’d need to pack again.

I stared at the large suitcase I’d thrown on top of the wardrobe the moment I’d returned to Korea.

Who knew I’d live a life frequenting airports this often?