Yuri posted the photo but didn’t think much of it.
Yes, Yongsu was a famous writer, but all of Yuri’s followers were Korean.
She only posted it because her friends were curious about her new home and the family she’d live with.
-Ding!
-Ding!
-Ding!
-Ding!
-Ding!
Yuri swallowed hard.
What was going on?
Her phone was blowing up with follow requests.
What the heck is this?
At first, she didn’t think much of it.
But two hours later, the requests kept pouring in relentlessly.
And it was early morning in Korea.
Yuri cautiously picked up her phone.
When she opened SNS, she gasped.
“Eek!”
The people sending follow requests were all names she’d seen on the news—famous actors, directors, CEOs, OTT executives, singers, and more.
Their follower counts alone were enough to make her heart race.
This is scary…
For someone Yuri’s age, SNS was just a fun way to connect.
Sure, there was some bragging involved, but mostly it was just something her friends did, so she did too.
“W-What do I do…”
The flood of requests overwhelmed her, making her fear grow.
“U-Uncle!”
Finally, scared, Yuri called for Yongsu.
He was preparing to fry chicken and tilted his head as she ran over.
What? What’s wrong?
“P-Please do something about this!”
Huh? What?
-Ding!
-Ding!
Yongsu looked at her phone, which kept buzzing with SNS follow request notifications.
“What’s this?”
“SNS follow requests!”
Seeing Yuri’s anxious eyes, I scratched my head.
Unlike Hye-yeon or Jiyu, I thought Yuri would enjoy this kind of attention, but apparently not.
Just ignore them.
“How can I?! These are super famous people!”
Then accept the requests.
“B-But then they’ll see all my future posts!”
“…”
It seemed Yuri felt burdened by that.
I took off my plastic gloves and turned to her.
Yuri, just because these people are famous doesn’t mean you have to change.
I never wanted to be famous.
Even if I succeeded as a writer, I wanted my work to be famous, not me.
But as my work gained fame, I inevitably did too.
Still, I hadn’t changed as a person.
Being around famous people doesn’t mean you have to become one. Just because they buy luxury goods doesn’t mean you have to.
The point was, you don’t have to follow what others do.
Even if famous people kept sending follow requests, our lives wouldn’t change.
We’re still us, and you’re still you. Of course, if you want to change and seize this moment, that’s different.
Having lots of followers naturally draws attention.
That could make climbing the ladder easier than starting from nothing.
Changing your life is ultimately your choice.
“Okay… I get it.”
Yuri thought for a moment, then waved at me.
“Uncle! Uncle!”
Yeah? What?
“Let’s take another picture! Just us two!”
Sure.
I crouched down to her eye level.
Yuri muted the follow request notifications, switched to selfie mode, and snapped a photo with me.
“Thanks, Uncle!”
No problem.
Yuri beamed at the photo.
Then, as if remembering something, she looked at me again.
“Oh! Right, Uncle!”
What?
“You’re a writer, right?”
Yeah.
She hadn’t heard it from her mom, but she’d pieced it together from things she heard since arriving in Canada.
“What’s your pen name?”
Me? Adele Louis.
“…Adele Louis?”
Yuri stared at me in shock.
***
Yuri’s dream was to become an actor.
She never told anyone, not even writing it on school forms about future aspirations.
The reason was simple.
Because we were poor.
They say dreams don’t need money, but reality doesn’t work that way.
You only realize that when reality hits.
The reason Yuri dreamed of acting was because of Adele Louis’s first work, Virus, which was adapted into a movie.
Her family rarely watched movies, but sometimes her mom saved up to take them all to the theater.
When they saw Virus, it hit Yuri like a nail driven into her heart.
I want to be an actor too.
Her mom skipped other movies, but always took them to see films based on Adele Louis’s works.
When his works were adapted into OTT dramas, she even paid for subscriptions she usually called useless.
Because of this, Yuri saw a lot of Adele Louis’s work and grew to yearn for acting even more.
“U-Uncle, you’re Adele Louis?”
Yeah. You’ve seen my work, huh?
“Of course!”
To be exact, she’d seen the movies, not the novels.
“U-Uncle! I have a favor to ask!”
What?
“I want to be an actor!”
An… actor?
Yongsu couldn’t hide his shock.
An actor? Out of nowhere?
Being an Asian actor in North America is tough…
Things were better than before, but discrimination was still common.
Even in a major Canadian city like Vancouver, it was noticeable.
“I’ve always wanted to be an actor!”
Hmm…
“Please help me, Uncle!”
What should I do?
Honestly, I could offer some support.
But it’s such a tough path, and I wasn’t sure if Yuri could handle it—mentally or physically.
Above all, there was no guarantee of success.
…Like being a writer.
My family opposed my path, but here I was.
The future is unpredictable.
Yuri could become an actor, or she might find another career.
Yuri.
I looked at her and smiled gently.
As your guardian, I can support the dreams you want to chase.
On our last day together, Choi Sun-ae told me to let the kids choose their own paths.
That’s all I can do.
“…Huh?”
Yuri’s eyes widened.
Honestly, getting her acting debut would be easy for me.
I could get her a cameo or a child role in my work.
No one would ignore my request.
But I couldn’t do that.
That would be an insult to my work.
Looking into Yuri’s eyes, I said,
I can cheer for your dream, but I can’t make it for you. If it’s truly what you want, work for it. I won’t stop you, but I won’t pave the way either.
You have to choose for yourself. If it’s the path you really want, you need to walk it on your own.
That’s how you learn to get back up after falling.
Yuri didn’t say anything.
No, tears welled up in her eyes.
“…Hmph.”
But she held them back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
“I’m… gonna be an actor! I’ll do it!”
I’ll cheer you on.
“I’ll become a famous actor and star in your work!”
My work?
“Yeah! Not just any role—the lead! I’ll be the protagonist, for sure!”
Her words left me stunned for a moment.
Then, with a smile, I patted her head.
Is that so? Then Uncle needs to step up too.
I didn’t know if it was a coincidence or intentional.
For Yuri to grow up and star in my work, I’d need to break my slump and keep writing until then.
Writing…
Should I try again after so long?
“Uncle! Is the chicken ready?”
Oh.
Let’s make the chicken first and think later.
***
I made the chicken, but the kids weren’t thrilled.
Jiyu ate a lot, but Hye-yeon and Yuri started enthusiastically before putting down their forks.
Is Canadian chicken different from Korean?
I never ate much chicken in Korea, even in high school, so I wasn’t sure if the taste differed.
Next time, I’ll try Korean chicken.
Anyway, that wasn’t the important part now.
“…Hoo.”
Late at night, with the kids asleep, I sat at my computer, letting out a heavy sigh.
Gotta write again… I should, but… hoo.
It’d been ages since I sat at a computer.
I didn’t even sit here to check emails.
I told Mijeong I’d been trying to write, but that was a lie.
For three years, I hadn’t sat at this desk once.
Does this thing even work?
It was the first computer I bought with my part-time job money after high school.
It’d been with me through my journey, and I’d taken good care of it for over 12 years.
The problem was, I hadn’t touched it in three years, so I wasn’t sure if it’d turn on.
-Vrrrm…
Oh? It works?
I turned it on just in case, and it ran better than expected.
I’d worried about dust, but thankfully, it worked fine.
Let’s see…
For the first time in nearly three years, I looked at the desktop.
Then, with a bitter smile, I let go of the mouse.
Man, I went all out, didn’t I?
The screen was filled with countless files.
Of course, they were all backed up on USB or the cloud.
But to stay focused while writing, I’d created empty files with just names on the desktop.
Alright, let’s do this.
I opened a file.
A blank page appeared, pure and untouched by any color.
A white world where I could pour my own colored words.
-Beep…
If only the computer hadn’t shut off.
Looks like it’s time to let you go.
I decided to buy a new computer tomorrow and headed to bed.