After hearing Han Seul-gi and Song Ji-eun’s story, Tae-ha was left in disbelief.
It was only natural.
The two had just confessed, right in front of everyone, that they were members of his fandom—Taecho.
Even Lee Man-nyeon, who had guided the conversation to this point, hadn’t expected such an answer. His stunned expression made that clear.
A brief silence fell over the fan meeting venue.
Then—
“Waaaaah!”
“Oooooooh!”
Cheers erupted from the audience.
The fans roared in support of Han Seul-gi and Song Ji-eun, applauding their courage. At the same time, they were celebrating fellow fans who shared the same feelings.
Encouraged by the crowd’s reaction, the two women regained their composure.
Song Ji-eun picked up the microphone first.
“Actually… I’ve been a fan for a long time—since before I was cast in the project. But I kept it a secret. I was afraid that if people found out, my casting might be canceled.”
Hearing this, Lee Man-nyeon finally snapped out of his daze and turned to Tae-ha.
“Mr. Tae-ha, did you really have no idea? That Ms. Ji-eun was your fan?”
“No, I didn’t. Is that really true?”
Tae-ha asked directly, still unable to believe it.
Song Ji-eun’s face flushed red as she nodded.
That alone was enough to confirm it.
The audience erupted into cheers once more.
At the same time, Lee Man-nyeon let out a soft exclamation, as if realizing something.
“It’s incredible. You managed to portray Han Seung-hye so well, yet you can’t even meet his eyes like this. During filming, didn’t you struggle?”
“…I did,” Song Ji-eun admitted. “Especially at the beginning. The first scene I filmed was one where my character had to react calmly upon seeing Kim Seong-wol’s beauty for the first time—but I just couldn’t do it. Honestly, it’s impossible not to be impressed by that face.”
The audience laughed and nodded in agreement.
“But in the end, you overcame it. How?” Lee Man-nyeon asked. “Is there some kind of secret?”
“A secret…” She paused, then continued. “Before I answer that, there’s something I want to clarify. I didn’t choose to appear in this project because I was a fan. In fact… it was the opposite.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“I’m sure many of you understand this feeling. When you meet someone you admire up close, sometimes that admiration fades. I was afraid of that. So I thought this was a project I shouldn’t take.”
“But you changed your mind?”
“Yes. When I actually met Mr. Tae-ha, I realized something.”
She glanced at him briefly before continuing.
“No matter how close you get to him, those feelings don’t fade. As a writer, as an actor, and as a person… he’s simply extraordinary.”
It was high praise.
Even Tae-ha, standing beside her, felt a bit embarrassed.
Yet Song Ji-eun spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“However,” she continued, “once filming began, I ran into a serious problem. I started making mistakes—something that had almost never happened to me before. I was frustrated. I began to doubt myself as an actress.”
The venue grew quiet as she spoke.
“Then one day, I saw Mr. Tae-ha… and something changed.”
“What do you mean?” Lee Man-nyeon asked.
“He didn’t feel like himself anymore.”
“Does that mean your fan feelings disappeared?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It means he became Kim Seong-wol—completely and perfectly.”
“Ah… so you finally immersed yourself in the role?”
“To be precise, I was drawn into it. It wasn’t that I forced myself to immerse—it was that he made it effortless. From that moment on, acting became natural again.”
She took a small breath before concluding:
“So if I had to name the reason I was able to portray Han Seung-hye so well… it’s entirely because of Mr. Tae-ha.”
The audience listened intently.
For fans, her story was deeply relatable.
Many of them felt that, placed in her position, they would have struggled the same way.
Thanks to her confession, the atmosphere of the fan meeting heated up once again.
***
But Song Ji-eun wasn’t the only one.
There was another person who had revealed herself as a fan.
Han Seul-gi.
After wrapping up Song Ji-eun’s segment, Lee Man-nyeon turned to her.
“We’ve heard Ms. Ji-eun’s courageous story. Now, let’s hear from the other unexpected fan—Ms. Seul-gi.”
Han Seul-gi hesitated briefly, then nodded.
“Unlike Ms. Ji-eun, I wasn’t a fan before working with Mr. Tae-ha.”
“Oh? Then did you become one afterward?”
“…Yes. You could say that.”
“What happened?”
She took a moment before answering.
“From the first time we met, I had a good impression of him. He was already an accomplished writer and a talented actor. But the more I got to know him, the more I found myself drawn in.”
Her cheeks turned slightly red.
“It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual. Like walking down a normal road, only to realize you’ve reached a dead end—you don’t notice it happening until it’s too late.”
Lee Man-nyeon tilted his head.
“I might be mistaken, but… are you sure that’s just admiration? Could it be something more, like unrequited love?”
At that question, the atmosphere grew tense.
Han Seul-gi quickly waved her hands.
“No, absolutely not. It’s purely admiration. I was confused at first, but by the end of filming, I understood my feelings clearly.”
“And what made you so sure?”
“If it were love, I would have wanted something more personal. But instead, I joined the fandom because I wanted to share those feelings with others.”
The tension eased.
The audience nodded in understanding.
There was a clear difference between admiration and romantic feelings—and she had drawn that line herself.
Even Tae-ha agreed internally.
She had never contacted him privately, nor crossed any boundaries.
Her behavior had always remained respectful.
It was, without a doubt, genuine admiration.
***
After letting the moment settle, Lee Man-nyeon turned back to Tae-ha.
“Then let me ask you, Mr. Tae-ha—did you ever suspect that these two might be your fans?”
Tae-ha thought for a moment before shaking his head.
“Not at all. They hid it so well that I never noticed. To be honest… I’m still surprised.”
“I see,” Lee Man-nyeon said with a laugh. “Then I have one last question.”
“Go ahead.”
“In your future projects, will there be any special consideration for these two, now that they’ve revealed themselves as your fans?”
At that, both Han Seul-gi and Song Ji-eun looked at him expectantly.
Tae-ha met their gaze calmly.
Then he smiled slightly and answered:
“No. There won’t be any.”
***
With that, the second part of the fan meeting came to an end.
But the event wasn’t over yet.
The final segment was about to begin—
The unveiling of a new song.
The audience hadn’t been informed beforehand. However, as the instruments on stage were moved forward, anticipation began to spread.
Then, the large screen lit up:
[Prequel Triple Title Reveal]
[5 Minutes Remaining]
The atmosphere surged once more, building toward its final climax.