Chapter 86: Becoming Yeji

I placed the thick adaptation manuscript I had just received on the desk.

I turned the first page and gazed at the still-rough draft.

You Are the Star Inside Me.

I read the title written at the top.

My gaze slowly drifted down as I began to skim through the content.

[Rain falls on a narrow alleyway in the evening.

A small girl is lost, sitting down in the alley. The girl is crying, calling out for her brother. Her vision is blurry, and raindrops strike her face. In her hand, she holds a torn umbrella, and her feet are damp and soaked.]

My fingertips tensed. The image of Dahye crying out my name flashed through my mind. I could still vividly remember the sensation of her wet hand gripping my arm.

[Her brother runs through the rain. He calls out her name. “Yeji!”

His voice trembles, and his breath is ragged.

When the small figure at the end of the alley seemed ready to collapse, a man calling the girl's name appears. The man is her brother.

“Oppa! Waaaah!”

The moment she sees her brother's face, Yeji bursts into tears.]

The story overlapped with the memory of Dahye bursting into tears as soon as she saw my face. Dahye, clinging to my arm with her wet hand, standing there for a long while.

Even now, it felt as if her sobs still echoed in my ears.

[Her brother holds Yeji's hand, checking her face, arms, and knees to see if she’s hurt. Their clothes are drenched, and their hands are cold.

Yeji continues to cry, calling her brother.

But in her sobs, there’s also a hint of relief.]

That day, Dahye’s hand was as cold as ice. I wiped her face with my trembling hand and brushed the dirt off her knees. Her lips were blue, her fingers clenched tight and wouldn’t relax.

No matter how much adaptation had changed it, since I wrote the novel while thinking of Dahye, the content resonated easily and soaked into my heart.

[Her brother dries Yeji’s skin with a towel. He takes out a plastic raincoat from his pocket and puts it on her, leaving himself to get soaked. Worried that Yeji might catch a cold, he hugs her tightly and carries her on his back.

He raises the umbrella and lays Yeji down on his back.]

“Her brother walks as if she isn’t heavy at all, not once stopping. Yeji buries her face in her brother’s back. Her small, delicate hands tightly clutch his collar.”

The warmth that spread through my back could be felt already. Watching her slowly regain composure brought back memories of that time. Dahye, who stopped crying and leaned on me without a word.

With my mind lost in memories, I walked and caught my breath. Even as water seeped into my soaked shoes, I did not stop.

My body grew cold, but I tried not to show it, fearing Dahye might worry.

[“You must have been really scared, huh?”

Her brother asks. The child does not answer.

“It’s all right now. Oppa is here. Wherever you are, I’ll always come find you.”]

“You are the star inside me. I’ll always stay by your side so you can shine.”

Murmuring the sentence softly, I pressed my lips together. The words I had quietly said to Dahye as she dozed on my back.

Leaving those words behind, I quickened my pace.

The texture of the paper lingered at my fingertips. The emotions melted between the lines could be felt clearly.

I picked up my pen and left a note in the top right corner.

[Checked.]

[Protecting my little sister is my oldest promise.]

And below that, I wrote another line.

“The picture I imagined is captured perfectly.”

I put down the pen and turned my gaze toward the window. Clouds hung thick in the sky.

As I read the sentences, I felt as if one side of my body was damp.

Just like that day.

Though I hadn’t yet read the entire flow of the adapted draft, my heart was fully poured into it. Even just this one scene was enough to tell.

That the director was reading this story exactly right. The affection, fear, relief, and promises of that night made my heart race.

All of it, revived within the story.

[You must never gloss over this scene. Handle it with the utmost care.]

I picked up my pen again and wrote a note in the corner.

I hoped the director would read this line.

I hoped the actor would understand this scene.

I wished that the feelings I put in would be conveyed exactly.

My work continued on.

---

With only a few days left before summer vacation ended, strong sunlight stretched long across the glass windows. Dahye knelt on the cleanly polished floor, sitting upright. Taking a deep breath in and out, she tried to calm her nerves. The mirror on the wall reflected everything—from Dahye’s gaze down to the trembling in her fingertips.

“Don’t lose the emotional line. Don’t just stick to the surface of the lines—look into Yeji’s heart. Imagine you’ve become Yeji. Peer into Yeji’s feelings and emotions.”

The acting teacher’s voice filled the practice room. Short, but powerful words.

The script, yellowed and worn from repeated readings, rested in her palm.

On the cover of ‘You Are the Star Inside Me’ was written ‘Middle School Yeji.’

Dahye stared at it for a while, then bit her lip and steeled herself, fixing her gaze forward.

The heart at the beginning of adolescence tangled in confusion, emotions pouring out unguarded. To become Yeji in the script, she summoned up her feelings. Understanding wasn’t enough. She needed emotions that were embodied.

She recalled the feelings she’d held for her brother and brought them to mind.

“I didn’t know... I really didn’t know... I thought if I just said it, everything would happen...”

Dahye opened her mouth slowly. Each word passed her lips, memories of the past flickering through her mind. The scene where Yeji, for the first time, let her emotions explode at her brother.

Dahye lifted her gaze to the mirror, examining her own expression. Slightly trembling brows, tightly closed lips beginning to quiver.

“...Who said I wanted money?! Is it enough just for me to live well?! Is it?! Isn’t your life important too, Oppa!!”

In that moment, her emotions utterly collapsed. They choked her throat and rose up.

It wasn’t just crying—it was a near scream. The script she gripped grew slightly damp. Tears streamed down her cheeks, spreading across the script.

Dahye knew. The ‘Oppa’ in that line wasn’t just an acting partner. Her brother, who stayed up all night agonizing over novel manuscripts.

The crumpled idea notes at his bedside. The days he’d spent hours running around just to buy her something delicious.

Thinking of those moments, Dahye felt she could understand Yeji’s heart.

No, maybe Yeji was herself all along.

“I do! I... I want you to be happy too, Oppa.”

More than anyone, even more than herself...

She wished for her brother’s happiness more than for her own.

Remembering all she’d seen of him, Dahye sincerely made her wish.

“I’m sorry, Oppa. Really, I’m sorry. Because of me...”

She muttered softly in her monologue.

Drooping her head, she leaned into her brother’s arms.

No, she pictured it that way and closed her eyes.

Clap, clap.

Just then, applause erupted from a woman seated at one side of the stage.

“That was wonderful, Dahye. Just now, that was the best acting I’ve seen from you.”

The woman, Dahye’s acting teacher, applauded as she appeared.

“That just now was the Yeji you created. And the emotions you put into it are something no one else could imitate.”

As her acting teacher spoke with genuine admiration, she praised Dahye’s performance.

A performance that made her heart pound.

It was, without a doubt, the best acting Dahye had ever shown.

“Was it really all right?”

Dahye wiped her teary eyes and, with effort, raised her bowed head to look at her teacher. Steadying her breath, she sought confirmation.

The teacher who had never praised her before now poured out words of encouragement, and the feeling was strange.

“Up till now, your acting seemed like you were imitating someone else, but this time, you were Yeji herself. I saw not someone understanding Yeji’s heart and saying the lines, but you becoming Yeji.”

Her teacher’s voice continued in a gentle tone.

“Thank you.”

Dahye nodded at her words. In her heart, her brother’s face appeared vividly—waiting for her at the subway station, choosing a hair tie for her before a field trip.

Dahye had lost count of how many times she had rehearsed. But one thing was clear—today’s Yeji was far clearer than herself yesterday.

Her red, swollen eyes in the mirror were alive with real emotion. Dahye felt she was getting ever closer to Yeji, the role she had been given.

To the point that it no longer felt like practice, but life itself.

That, she thought, was the only way to return the love she’d received, on stage.

“All right, shall we go one more time?”

It was an incredible leap forward.

It clearly showed just how hard Dahye had worked.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Her teacher ended her praise and moved straight back to script practice so that Dahye’s acting could become even more perfect.

---

Summer in Seoul refused to let up. Min Doyoon entered the air-conditioned office, his shirt sleeves rolled up. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds by the window, falling across the glass table. On the desk, the documents that had arrived in the morning were neatly arranged. Among them, one stood out: a thin sheet titled ‘Audition Applicants List.’

“Is this it?”

Min Doyoon asked as he half-sat down.

“This is the final list, compiled as of this morning.”

The man answered with practiced ease, setting down the rest of the documents.

“Thank you for your work.”

Min Doyoon nodded, signaling for him to leave, and unfolded the list. The names of applicants, sorted by age group, were organized neatly. Elementary Yeji, Middle School Yeji, Adult Yeji, and so on.

Each entry listed the name, age, agency, and role applied for.

[Yoo Dahye / 15 years old / AC Entertainment / Yeji (Middle School)]

“Yoo Dahye... This photo looks really familiar?!”

Scanning through the list, Min Doyoon’s gaze stopped at one spot.

He furrowed his brow slightly.

It was definitely a face he had seen somewhere before.

The name was anything but unfamiliar.

He was certain he knew this person.

“Wait, AC Entertainment?!”

A hazy memory slowly surfaced.

“Ah...”

Now, he remembered.

The little sister Chaerin had adored and looked after.

And the brother of that sister, whom Chaerin cared for, was someone he knew very well.

“Well, this is interesting.”

Min Doyoon’s lips curled up in a crooked smile.

The younger sister auditions for the role of ‘Yeji’ in a novel written by her older brother.

“It’d be a real waste to just let this pass by.”

Min Doyoon picked up the cell phone beside his desk.

“I wonder... does he know?”

He murmured quietly as he looked at Yoo Dahye’s photo. A subtle anticipation flickered across his face. He quickly took up his phone and began composing a message.

[You should judge the audition, too.]

It was short, but full of meaning.

Min Doyoon pressed ‘send’ and stashed his phone in the drawer.