Chapter 26: Shining Bright

What a mess.

Director Kim Jin greeted me, looking haggard as if he hadn’t slept. The moldy stench wafting from him was suffocating.

‘Ugh’

Still, courtesy matters, so I forced a smile and asked, “Why are you here?”

“Bada-ssi, I heard your next project’s confirmed. I was curious.”

“Oh, I see.”

He’d already seen the articles. No way he came just out of curiosity.

Expressionless, I sat beside CEO Min Ja-young.

“Is my presence unwelcome?”

“No, it’s just… you look really worn out.”

“Oh? What’s wrong with how I look?”

“Kind of… disheveled, I guess.”

Though said with concern, it was blunt, and he looked offended.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It came out harsh.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve had a rough few days. I probably look it.”

“Got it.”

Whatever. Then CEO Min Ja-young leaned in, whispering, “I’m here, so say what you want. If anything risky happens, I’ll handle it.”

This is why an agency matters. Sitting up straight, I asked boldly, “Director, what’s the real reason you’re here?”

“To persuade you.”

Again?

“I said I’m not doing it. Why keep trying?”

He smirked, leaning toward me. The moldy smell persisted, but worse was his smug grin.

“Bada-ssi, you’re joining a cable drama, right?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“Why choose that path?”

“…..”

That path? Cable dramas had a bad rep now, so his reaction wasn’t surprising.

‘But soon, cable channels will thrive. Kim Jin’s too blind to see it.’

I listened silently, not arguing.

“Instead of a cable drama, wouldn’t our drama be better? It’s on a major network with a solid production company and a big budget.”

“……”

“Come to our drama. Your role in that cable drama’s just a small one, right?”

A glossy pitch tempting for a rookie, but it lacked substance.

No talk of the drama’s vision, script, or what he expected from my role. Those should come first.

When will this idiot grow?

“To be blunt, wouldn’t starring in our drama make you a breakout star?”

“I want to act the roles I choose, not chase fame.”

“You’re a rookie, so you don’t get it. An actor’s value is key. And soon, that value becomes fame.”

If value’s all that matters, are actors objects, not people?

‘Since he brought up value, it’s my turn.’

Time to say what I couldn’t in my past life.

“Honestly, aren’t I just a tool to lowball Jo Jang-hee’s pay?”

“W-What? No, no way.”

Sure, while you’re at it. Clearly rattled, he grabbed water to soothe his throat.

CEO Min, watching silently, asked in a low voice, “Director? What’s this about?”

“It’s… not that.”

A CEO for a reason.

Well-versed in industry rumors and articles, she could grasp the situation just from our talk.

She’d been biding her time.

Let’s hear his excuse.

★★★

‘Damn… this’ll spark rumors and I won’t even lower her pay.’

With Jo Jang-hee’s recent film hitting 10 million viewers, her skyrocketing value threatened to exceed the budget.

His plan? Use Im Bada to negotiate Jo Jang-hee’s pay down.

At The Life of a Prosecutor’s wrap party, Kim Jin felt Im Bada didn’t seem like a typical rookie. A major network drama with a lead role—perfect bait for a newbie, he thought.

Hearing she joined a cable drama, he assumed she was a clueless rookie chasing “art,” so he rushed over.

But she felt like a seasoned veteran, with an impenetrable wall.

“Director Kim Jin, choose your words carefully.”

CEO Min Ja-young tapped the table, drawing his gaze.

“…We have our plans.”

“Knowing how vital a role is for a rookie, you tried to use one to manipulate another actor?”

“That’s not…”

Shaking her head, CEO Min signaled a staff member outside.

Taking a clear file from the staff, she spread papers on the table for Kim Jin to see.

‘How’d she get this… I’m screwed.’

The papers were screenshots of messages he sent to a reporter, spreading malicious rumors about Im Bada.

Tap, tap.

CEO Min tapped the screenshots with her pen, reading aloud, “‘The Tormented Him and the Happy Her originally had Im Bada as the lead. After her recent hits, casting disputes arose, and it’s unclear who’ll take the lead, causing a delay in airing?!’”

Bang!

CEO Min slammed her fist on the table, as if it might break.

Startled, he could only look down.

“You planned to publish this.”

Kim Jin, unable to muster an excuse, felt his mouth go dry.

‘Damn, damn, damn.’

‘Think I’m a pushover rookie director?’

“Do this again, and we’ll respond aggressively.”

“…I won’t do it again.”

“You better not.”

Further negotiation was impossible. Even burying this quietly would be a relief for him.

CEO Min’s “one more time” meant she wouldn’t publicize this—for now.

“Oh, I forgot I have urgent business. I’ll head out.”

He stood, bowing repeatedly, and left for the hallway.

“…Ha.”

He had to grovel in a losing situation, but prideful Kim Jin ground his teeth.

‘Just wait. You’ll flop on cable and regret rejecting me.’

Spitting on the marble floor outside the CEO’s office, he called Kim Jung-woo as he walked away.

– Yo, I’m sleeping.

His casual tone made Kim Jin snap, “What’s her deal?”

– Who?

“Im Bada!”

– Oh, Im Bada? Bad personality.

“Always like that?”

– Smiles to your face, backstabs behind you.

Finding someone who thought like him was thrilling.

“Right? I’m not the idiot, am I?”

– Huh?

“Thinks she’s a rising star forever.”

Just wait. He’d watch her fall.

‘How dare she reject me?’

CEO Min said “one more time.” Kim Jin showed his “one more time” his way—spitting phlegm on the clean marble floor.

★★★

Through the window, I saw Kim Jin spit and grimaced.

‘So he’s going all out now?’

To think I wasted my life fooled by such an obvious schemer. I was furious.

‘No… don’t waste energy on him.’

I looked at CEO Min Ja-young.

She always promised to protect me, but today, I truly felt secure.

“CEO-nim, how’d you get those screenshots?”

“Oh, these?”

She tapped the papers on the table.

“The reporter Kim Jin contacted is an acquaintance. He tipped me off about the rumors and sent the screenshots. Plus, your hate comments have spiked lately.”

“…I see.”

During Save Me’s airing, I noticed the hate comments. Stuff about my face changing, repetitive nonsense. Someone’s malice was clear.

“The hate comments seem like paid trolls. Same IDs, identical wording, very blatant.”

Crude attacks on my looks or figure.

‘Looks will fade unless I alter them. If it’s about acting, I’ll grow from it.’

In my past life, I had no hate or praise—just no attention. Maybe I should be grateful.

I was about to say no need to respond when—

“Your fans are sending us PDFs of the comments.”

“My fans?”

What… I didn’t know. I stood, banging my knee on the table.

“B-Bada-ya?”

“Ow… S-Sorry. My fans are collecting them?”

“They monitor communities.”

“…What do I do? I feel bad for them.”

CEO Min smiled, offering simple advice. “Just do well.”

“Huh?”

“Fans love when their fave excels at their craft.”

My craft? Acting well? That’s obvious, but isn’t it too little to repay them?

“Your face says it’s not enough, Bada-ya. The basics matter most. Focus on acting, I’ll handle the rest.”

Waving the clear file, CEO Min beamed.

In my past life, I survived alone in the industry, unable to rely on anyone, fighting Kim Jin solo.

‘But I don’t need to now… I’m living a new life.’

With people caring for me, why struggle alone?

Feeling a warm, emotional surge, my eyes grew hot.

Clap!

Seo-eun unnie clapped, grabbing my and CEO-nim’s attention.

“Enough heartfelt talk! Now!”

Spreading a dress catalog on the table, she smiled kindly. “Let’s pick Bada’s awards show dress.”

“Huh? Oh, yes, unnie.”

Her eyes gleamed as she flipped through the catalog, eyeing me and the pages alternately.

“What suits our Bada? Mermaid? Empire?”

“Uh… I don’t know.”

I’d attended an awards show once, as a minor supporting actor to fill seats, wearing a suit, not a dress.

So, clueless about dresses, the catalog overwhelmed me.

“What dress do you want?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Hurry, or there’ll be no dresses left. Look, Bada-ya. Your fair skin… and your shoulder line is pretty, so maybe off-shoulder…”

Seo-eun shoved dazzling dress photos at me.

Each design she showed was stunning, sparking awe.

Then I thought, ‘If Ewha-won from Save Me went to an awards show, what dress would she wear?’

That led to wanting a dress that extended the drama’s vibe.

‘My first official invite thanks to a role I played. I want to carry Ewha-won’s vibe.’

“What about dress colors?”

“Mostly white or black.”

Monochrome. That didn’t fit Ewha-won’s image.

“Seo-eun unnie, any other colors?”

“Other colors?”

Tilting her head, she checked her phone messages.

“How about this bell-line dress? It’s reddish.”

“Red?”

“Show me the dress photo.”

The red bell-line dress caught my eye.

A slightly dark red, reminiscent of blood.

The upper part was simple, with no embellishments, showing a square neckline that revealed the collarbone and puffed shoulders.

Simple up top, but the skirt flowed like waves, shimmering with gold pearls, proving it was an awards show dress.

“I want this one.”

“The red dress?”

Staring at the photo, a question hit me. “CEO-nim, could I win a rookie award?”

She frowned, as if I’d said something absurd. “You know you’re in two consecutive CBS dramas, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“And both were hits, right?”

“Yup?”

Folding her fingers one by one, she said, “Rookie Award, Best Couple Award, Excellence in Acting, Supporting Actor Award. And.”

‘That’s more than enough. But ‘and’?’

“You’re also nominated for Best Character for Youth 2015 at NBC.”

Too… too much?