Myeong Jeha blinked once. In an instant, his bored gaze shifted into one of admiration.
“Hello~, I’m Yun Hyeonjo, MC for Part 2 of the Seoul Drama Awards.”
“I’m Hong Suryeon.”
With the proper attitude of a diligent junior, Myeong Jeha applauded the seniors on stage. Gyeoul, seated beside him, did the sa. Both of them behaved as if the conversation from just monts ago had never happened.
‘This seat must be frustrating. You can only look straight ahead.’
From the very start of Part 1, Myeong Jeha had known where Do Gyeoul’s gaze was headed. At so point, whenever he followed her eyes, Han Yeoreum was there.
If Do Gyeoul inferred only surface-level emotions, Myeong Jeha could read all the way down to the bottom of them.
‘I didn’t realize Do Gyeoul felt this way....’
Before the regression, Do Gyeoul’s position had been enormous, which ant he had seen her face often. At the very least, they appeared in the sa project once per season.
Do Gyeoul had never once lost her place at the top, and Myeong Jeha had accepted that as a given.
‘Hmm....’
Han Yeoreum, who had never been anything but unknown.
Do Gyeoul, who had never been anything but the top.
He wondered if there might be so kind of connection between the two. The way Do Gyeoul looked at Han Yeoreum made him think so.
“Do you think Yeoreum can win an award?”
Myeong Jeha asked Do Gyeoul in a casual tone. It might have sounded impulsive, but it was quite deliberate.
“...Why? Is Yeoreum expecting to win?”
After hearing her answer, Myeong Jeha looked at Do Gyeoul for a mont. He knew sothing.
That sotis, instead of words, every nonverbal cue beca the truth.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“That’s too bad.... I’m worried. I think she’ll be really disappointed.”
That was how he imdiately noticed it. Do Gyeoul’s odd behavior—things he might have missed until now. Han Yeoreum’s strangely intense dislike of Do Gyeoul.
“Yeah. I’m worried too.”
He didn’t know the exact reason, but it likely started from Do Gyeoul’s sense of inferiority toward Han Yeoreum—whatever that incident might have been.
‘So she thinks Yeoreum won’t win....’
Myeong Jeha looked toward the stage. A Taiwanese actor who had received the Asia Special Award was crying as they gave their acceptance speech. Even to him, the lineup felt formidable.
‘Well, anyone would think that.’
Not just Do Gyeoul—there probably wasn’t a single person here expecting Han Yeoreum to win. It was a conclusion you could reach with simple arithtic.
The calculations Do Gyeoul had made were also fairly accurate.
To package a drama awards show held in Korea a little more attractively, you give awards to works from various countries overseas. To increase na recognition, you hand trophies to more famous actors among them. And at the very top, you place dramas with strong global reactions.
“Next is the Judges’ Special Award. The categories are Rookie Award, Popularity Award, Screenplay Award, and Directing Award, with no distinction between short-form and miniseries....”
But there were things ordinary people failed to calculate.
‘In this era, ten million Intube views only an one thing.’
Global.
That was an area Han Yeoreum easily qualified for as well. And if the awards ceremony wanted to increase buzz, it would be even harder to pass her up.
This broadcast, too, would be uploaded to Intube exactly as recorded.
Han Yeoreum, who had landed in real-ti trending videos four tis just in the first half of the year, had at least the minimum justification for winning.
‘She was easy to package.’
And then, one more thing.
Based on justification alone, the probability of a rookie who had fild just one one-episode drama winning an award was extrely low. So let’s shift the angle.
“Shall we et the nominees for the Rookie Award first?”
On average, critics had to watch hundreds of works every year. Whether masterpieces or disasters, once placed in front of them, their ti was inevitably taken.
And statistically, drama critics spent more ti facing disasters.
‘PPL, cliffhanger endings, unresolved foreshadowing, actors replaced [N O V E L I G H T] mid-production after causing trouble, rushed sa-day edits with crude quality, and all sorts of other things....’
They were people who had entered this field because they loved art. Yet they were constantly being shown final products that were laughable even to the general public. No wonder it wore them down.
‘So.’
How drawn would they be to a shining masterpiece among countless failures?
Sotis emotion overpowered reason. Critics or committee mbers—it didn’t matter. As long as they were in this industry, they were people who still had romance left in them.
‘It can’t be helped.’
So even if it ant creating a standard that had never existed before—
“Judges’ Special Award, Rookie Award goes to....”
They had no choice but to hand the trophy to the one who made their hearts race.
“Han Yeoreum, who played Jung Yeondu in .”
Thunderous applause poured through the hall. Myeong Jeha applauded as well, his posture neat and composed. Then, as if sothing had just occurred to him, he spoke again.
“Oh, right. Sunwoo Seonuk is on the judging panel.”
Do Gyeoul’s expression stiffened for a mont.
* * *
Did they really just call my na? I stared blankly at the stage. Director So pulled into a hug, and soone nearby patted my back.
Yun Hyeonjo, one of the MCs, t my eyes as if urging to hurry up. Only then did I move forward, my steps trembling.
‘This can’t be real....’
Seriously—, winning an award? Even as I climbed the stairs, it didn’t feel real. I felt like I was floating on the wide stage.
Only after receiving the trophy and cradling the bouquet in my arms did I manage to stand in front of the microphone.
From far away, my eyes t Director So’s.
“First of all... thank you for giving such an incredible award....”
So Yesol, nodding lightly as she looked at , seed to be telling —
You did well.
“To be honest, I practiced my acceptance speech a lot by myself, thinking maybe—just maybe—I could win. But once I ca up here, I got so nervous I forgot everything.”
Good job.
“First, I want to sincerely thank Director So Yesol for creating such a wonderful work and such a great role for . And thanks to all the staff who worked so hard together with us, I was able to receive this amazing award.”
My mind went blank. Words spilled out without much order. It wasn’t difficult—I’d seen this so many tis before. How many acting award ceremonies and film festivals had I watched? I’d endured my long years of obscurity by imagining myself standing here.
“And to my beloved mom... and my younger brother. And also....”
But maybe I was too flustered. The words that had been flowing unconsciously began to slow. I couldn’t quite grasp what I was supposed to say next.
I took a short, deep breath, lifted my head, and turned my gaze toward the audience.
“Uh....”
A woman covering her mouth in emotion caught my eye.
Where had I seen her before? I was sure I had. Recently, too. I searched my mory.
‘MusicN! Front row!’
She was the person I’d kept making eye contact with from the very front row. I’d assud she was just Seo Eden’s fan—
‘Could it be.... my fan?’
My mouth moved faster than my judgnt. I added the final line to wrap up my speech.
“Lastly....”
Is she really my fan? Did she co here to see ? Did she watch ? Or only ? Will she keep liking ? Will she watch whatever I appear in? Is she happy with right now, celebrating my award?
“To all the viewers who sent such deep empathy and love to .”
I t the cara lens again. Maybe, aside from that person, I’d gained other fans too.
“I think everyone has a ti when they feel the urge to run away sowhere no one knows them. Even so, like Yeondu, I hope monts will co when you find yourselves deeply interested in one another.”
If more people like that appeared, I felt like I could exist as an actor for a very, very long ti.
“I’ll show you an even better side of myself going forward. Thank you.”
I want to act. Longer, more, endlessly. I want to live as an actor every single minute, every single second.
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