For the Sake of Lying Chapter 1

On the 27-inch screen doubling as a computer monitor and TV, the year-end award ceremony was drawing to a close. Dazzling, colorful lights illuminated the leading actors nominated for the grand prize. Among the sea of tuxedo-clad men, one actor stood out.

His clear eyes contrasted with his fair skin, and his soft brown hair gleamed under the stage lights. In an instant, his radiant smile made everyone around him seem ordinary. His flawless face, brilliant from every angle, seemed almost tailor-made for the spotlight. The fans’ cheers grew so loud they threatened to overwhelm the speakers.

An elderly actor stepped forward to announce the winner. The camera zoomed in on the male actor as the audience erupted into even louder applause, delaying the host’s ability to continue. The actor stood, hugging the actress beside him who had also been nominated, and made his way to the stage. His tall frame, broad shoulders, and athletic build contrasted with his gentle appearance.

The man who won the grand prize, surpassing seasoned veterans, was only in his late 20s. The drama he starred in had become a global phenomenon, setting a new milestone for K-dramas. Its filming locations had turned into tourist attractions, drawing visitors to even the most remote areas. It was a success that seemed almost too good to be true.

Yoon Do-young, smiling brightly as his colleagues congratulated him, stepped onto the stage with a hint of embarrassment. He held the grand prize trophy under the dazzling spotlight, standing at the center of the stage. Kang Hyun, watching from a rectangular screen, fixed his sharp gaze on the gleaming golden trophy.

That should have been my role. It was originally a 12-episode web drama. But when Yoon Do-young took over, the production budget skyrocketed, and the series expanded to 24 episodes. It even secured a prime-time slot on terrestrial television. With just one appearance, Yoon Do-young had demonstrated his star power, and now he was accepting the award with a confident smile.

“Thank you to all the staff who supported me and made it possible for me to perform well,” he said, his words cutting sharply into Kang Hyun’s mind.

The production team had once praised me, saying the character was perfect for me. But I’m sure they showered even more praise on Yoon Do-young. They probably celebrated him for filming overseas and delivering such a stellar performance. Maybe they even thanked him for accepting the role.

“I’d also like to thank my agency’s CEO for actively promoting me for this role,” Yoon Do-young continued.

He knew the role had been reassigned due to an investor’s request. But despite being aware of the circumstances, a heavy ache settled in my chest. No, it wasn’t just an ache—it felt like my heart was being torn apart. I gulped down a beer, trying to calm the storm inside.

“I dedicate this award to my best friend, Kang Hyun.”

Yoon Do-young’s eyes softened as he spoke, his sweet smile almost melting the hearts of everyone watching. Normally, I would have smiled back at that expression. But Kang Hyun’s face remained cold and unreadable as he stared at the monitor. His sharp eyes only grew more piercing.

A prize dedicated to me? What does that even mean? Why? For what reason are you giving me credit for your success?

Kang Hyun’s eyes widened as he repeated the words in his mind. A bitter smile twisted his lips.

Did you really believe that? Did you honestly think I couldn’t handle the role? That I couldn’t succeed because you took it from me?

Those were the words I held back after hearing from the CEO that the role had been given to Yoon Do-young. You didn’t even know I had been cast. I kept it a secret, careful not to tell anyone until filming began.

But maybe that’s just how it is. You’ve never really considered my feelings. You’ve always taken everything I said at face value.

Kang Hyun’s brow furrowed as he glared at the monitor. The corners of his eyes turned red, and the beer can in his hand crumpled under his grip. Yoon Do-young’s dazzling smile reflected in the screen, taunting him.

I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

Beer spilled from the crushed can, foaming as it dripped down my hand. Kang Hyun stood up, his tall, slender frame making the small room feel even more cramped. He walked past the gray interior, past the dining table that doubled as a desk, and stopped at the tiny sink. He rinsed his face with cold water, trying to cool the heat rising in his chest.

Leaning against the wall, Kang Hyun stared blankly into the air, taking slow breaths to calm himself.

The world is designed for those who have everything. Someone like me was never meant to take the lead role. Even a supporting role is a privilege. If I work hard and prove myself, maybe I’ll be recognized someday. Isn’t that the goal? To become a respected supporting actor?

Kang Hyun forced himself to focus on reason. He returned to the table, turned on the lamp, and opened the script for his new drama. His role was the younger brother of the female lead—a small part, but with memorable lines. It was a character that required sharp wit and chemistry with the lead.

He highlighted his lines with a fluorescent marker and began reciting them, trying to immerse himself in the role. But his mind kept wandering. Frustrated, he slapped his own cheek to snap out of it. The sting helped him refocus, and he started reading the script from the beginning, this time paying attention to the other characters’ lines as well.

As he delved deeper into the script, his expression grew serious. He began to lose himself in the story, his lips moving as he recited the lines. The characters came alive in his mind, and for a moment, he forgot everything else.

His phone buzzed, interrupting his concentration. The classic ringtone—one Yoon Do-young had set years ago—echoed in the quiet room. Kang Hyun stared at the caller ID: Yoon Do-young’s name flashed on the screen. The ringing stopped, replaced by a message notification.

“Hyun, I’m outside your house.”

A moment later, the doorbell rang, followed by a soft knock. Kang Hyun’s eyes shifted to the front door, then back to his phone as another message came through.

“I didn’t go anywhere. Where are you? I miss you.”

His sharp eyes wavered at the last sentence. The anger that had been boiling inside him moments ago was replaced by a heavy ache in his chest. Emotions clouded his judgment.

He hesitated, then picked up his phone. Yoon Do-young had been called an acting genius since his days as a child actor. His performances were flawless, captivating audiences in every genre. If I had played that role, I wouldn’t have been able to evoke the same love and admiration he did.

I admit it. As an actor, I respect his talent. His performance in the drama made my heart race, and I found myself waiting for his call like a lovestruck fan.

But I can’t stand how he blurs the line between reality and fiction.

Kang Hyun’s fingers hovered over the keypad.

“I watched the award ceremony. Of course, I knew you’d win. Congratulations.”

With that, I maintained the last shred of courtesy as an old friend.

“Where are you? I want to see you.”

The immediate reply made his hands tremble. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his lips quivered.

The complicated emotions he had buried for so long surged to the surface. He struggled to steady his breathing as his fingers typed out a response.

“I’m at a hotel with my lover.”

There was no reply. The room fell silent except for the hum of the refrigerator. Kang Hyun turned off his phone and returned to the script.

Hours passed, but he couldn’t focus. He read the lines over and over, trying to lose himself in the story. Finally, he set the script aside and stretched, noticing the faint light creeping through the blackout curtains.

He turned on his phone and played his usual sleep music, slipping on his earphones. Just as he was about to lie down, a notification chimed.

“Breaking News: Actor Yoon Do-young Hospitalized After Traffic Accident.”

“World Star Yoon Do-young Injured in Hotel Lobby Incident.”

“Yoon Do-young Involved in Serious Traffic Accident.”

Kang Hyun’s body moved before his mind could process the news. He bolted out of the house, tears streaming down his face as he ran to hail a taxi.