I Want to Be a VTuber

"In return, you’ll receive enough money to live a life of luxury," Yuina said with a twisted smile. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curved slightly, her smile revealing her sinister nature.

"Ju Seoyeon’s portrayal of villains never ceases to impress," thought the cast members as they watched.

"Honestly, she could’ve played the protagonist just as well."

Even with just her first line, there was something spine-chilling about her performance.

From the days of her role in Cha Seo-ah, Seoyeon had always excelled in vividly portraying the depths of human depravity.

"Is this method acting?"

No. Jiyeon, who received Seoyeon’s performance head-on, knew it wasn’t method acting. Seoyeon’s method acting was even more intense and profound.

Particularly when playing villains, Seoyeon avoided method acting due to the lasting impact it could have.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

For most actors, villainous roles were the most mentally taxing, and Seoyeon was no exception—if anything, it was worse for her.

"Oh my, why so silent? A stray dog should wag its tail obediently at its master’s commands."

With graceful steps, Yuina approached Sunye, her elegant hand touching Jiyeon’s chin.

Gently, Yuina stroked her chin, her thumb pressing lightly against her lips. As their faces came dangerously close, Jiyeon swallowed hard.

It wasn’t acting—Jiyeon was genuinely flustered by Seoyeon’s proximity.

Was this really in the script?

No, such detailed actions weren’t specified. Jiyeon remembered Yuina’s scripted actions as merely “gazing at Sunye with a seductive smile.”

But Seoyeon had clearly added her own interpretation to the character, making it much harder to respond.

This thought wasn’t unique to Jiyeon; the other actors watching shared similar sentiments.

"Didn’t the actress playing the protagonist only appear in a few cable dramas before this? She’s not a rookie, but this won’t be easy."

No one was underestimating Jiyeon’s acting ability.

It was about presence.

How could the protagonist assert themselves in the shadow of such a commanding “Yuina”?

It wouldn’t be easy.

Yeon Sunye was an ordinary girl in the story—a skilled thief but still just a regular person. She was intelligent but far from extraordinary.

The challenge was striking a delicate balance. If Sunye exuded as much presence as Yuina, it would disrupt the character dynamic. Conversely, if Yuina completely overshadowed Sunye, the protagonist’s significance would diminish.

It was a fine line to tread—a difficult performance to execute.

At that moment, Yeon Sunye suddenly bit down on Yuina’s finger, which had been pressing against her lips.

"Ahhh!!"

Yuina recoiled in shock, pulling her hand back. Smiling, Sunye spoke:

"Oh, my apologies. As a stray dog, I can’t help but bite when something comes near my mouth."

The ad-lib fit perfectly with the previous exchange, feeling so natural that the actors instinctively checked their scripts, wondering if it was an actual line.

In that moment, Yuina’s overwhelming presence receded, allowing Sunye’s character to shine. Without doing much, Jiyeon’s Sunye established her own distinctiveness.

The phrase “softness overcomes strength” encapsulated the moment perfectly. Sunye had deftly deflected Yuina’s dominance.

"Of course, as you said, I’ll do everything you command," Sunye added, bowing slightly, her words directed toward the startled Yuina.

"As long as you keep your promise, my lady."

Yuina’s eyes narrowed at Sunye’s boldness. Her gaze seemed to say, How dare you, of all people?

But Yuina couldn’t dismiss Sunye just yet. Sunye wasn’t someone Yuina had brought in herself—she was Goto Isamu’s recruit.

Not only was Sunye the most skilled thief in the area, but her audacity in biting Yuina’s finger also highlighted her strong character.

"Of course," Yuina replied, her voice cold. "When a dog behaves well, it’s a master’s duty to reward it."

With those words, both Seoyeon and Jiyeon lowered their scripts, concluding Scene #17—the first meeting between Yuina and Sunye, one of the film’s most pivotal early scenes.

...This is something else.

No one raised their hands to volunteer for the next reading. The scene had left the actors deep in thought, grappling with the weight of what they’d just witnessed.

"These young actors today are terrifyingly good," thought one of the senior cast members.

The biggest surprise was Jiyeon. Until now, her career had been limited to cable dramas. No one had expected her to deliver such a performance.

Her spur-of-the-moment ad-lib had been especially stunning. Even Director Baek Min, who notoriously disliked ad-libbing, had unconsciously nodded in approval.

"This feels much more natural," he said. "Please replicate this in the actual shoot."

The script was even adjusted on the spot to incorporate the changes.

From the very first reading, the performances had been extraordinary, putting the other actors on edge.

They’d prepared themselves for a challenge under Director Baek Min, but it was clear their acting abilities would be thoroughly tested.

First of all, Seoyeon couldn’t deny she was feeling a bit excited.

Even though romance made her uneasy, today’s script reading didn’t require her to act out any romantic scenes.

This was the first meeting between Yeon Sunye and Yuina.

Looking at Jiyeon, standing opposite her with script in hand, Seoyeon couldn’t help but feel cheerful.

After all, wasn’t this their first performance together?

She felt motivated to give it her all.

At the same time, she wanted to show off her skills.

Naturally, a thought crossed her mind:

"I should show Lee Jiyeon what I’m capable of."

During practice, she had already demonstrated her acting ability.

But practice and the real thing were entirely different.

Especially during script readings, which could often feel as intense as actual filming.

And with a meticulous director like Baek Min, the sessions tended to drag on.

For the record, Director Baek Min was the demanding type.

So there was no room for complacency, even if Jiyeon made a mistake—no one would criticize her too harshly in such a setting.

But who would’ve thought Seoyeon would be the one caught off guard instead?

"I didn’t expect you to bite me."

"It didn’t hurt anyway."

Jiyeon’s cheeky remark made Seoyeon narrow her eyes at her. She wasn’t wrong.

Even if Jiyeon used all her strength, she wouldn’t leave so much as a scratch on Seoyeon’s skin.

Skin that didn’t even show a dent after a paintball hit wasn’t about to give way to Jiyeon’s bite.

But that was beside the point.

"Still, it was impressive. I was surprised, Lee Jiyeon. You didn’t plan that in advance, did you?"

It was Jo Seohee who asked, her tone full of admiration.

She was one of the many actors internally applauding Jiyeon’s ad-lib.

Everyone already knew Seoyeon was a skilled actress. Jiyeon, however, had been an unknown quantity.

"Ju Seoyeon," Jiyeon said.

"What?"

"That scream—wasn’t acting, was it?"

"..."

Well, of course, she’d been startled.

Having her finger suddenly bitten was unexpected.

It wasn’t about pain—it was about surprise.

"I was just caught off guard."

The unexpected ad-lib had momentarily shaken her.

Usually, when Seoyeon acted, her mind was as calm as a still pond.

To paint emotional pictures in her performances, she needed to maintain inner peace to keep her "brushstrokes" steady.

This time, however, was an exception.

"It won’t happen again."

"Hmm."

Sure, it wouldn’t. Jiyeon knew well enough that Seoyeon was thorough and unshakable when it came to acting.

Still, she felt a small sense of satisfaction at having rattled Seoyeon, even if only once.

Just as Jiyeon was mulling over this, Seohee interjected:

"It’s my turn next. This scene involves you, too... are you okay with that?"

Seohee had taken the baton after Seoyeon.

Though she’d missed the first reading, Baek Min had no choice but to give her the second slot.

This next scene, too, involved Jiyeon.

Naturally, given that Jiyeon played the protagonist of the film.

"If she messes up, I’ll tease her about it."

With that mischievous thought, Seoyeon crossed her arms and decided to observe Seohee and Jiyeon’s performance.

"I wonder which scene it is."

Flipping through the script to find the scene Baek Min had mentioned, Seoyeon quickly identified it.

And then...

"What?"

Seoyeon froze, looking back and forth between her script and Seohee and Jiyeon standing opposite each other.

"You’re like a doll, my lady."

"Why? Because I can’t resist the strings pulled by a maid’s hand?"

"I meant you’re delicate and beautiful. Why would you say something like that?"

The scene wasn’t from the early part of the script. It was much later, set in the mansion where Sunye, the protagonist, gradually developed a bond with Amanabi Michiko, her lady.

It was their first moment of mutual affection.

"Sunye, dry my hair for me. Your touch is so gentle—it feels wonderful."

With those words, Michiko’s long hair fell into Sunye’s hands. As their gazes met through the strands of hair, both of them smiled softly.

"W-wait... hold on."

Watching this, Seoyeon was overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling.

Sunye’s demeanor toward Michiko was eerily similar to that of Ramiel’s from her past life.

Recently, Seoyeon found herself experiencing a new emotion: anxiety.

Not that she’d never felt nervous before—it wasn’t like she was claiming to have lived a completely stress-free life. But this time, the feeling was different. It was unfamiliar, even to her.

"What should I do...?"

A week had passed since the script reading. With filming set to begin the following week, her mind was swimming with thoughts.

"Why is Jo Seohee so skilled?"

Even now, when Seoyeon closed her eyes, she could recall Seohee’s performance during the reading.

It hadn’t been anything extravagant—just a simple scene where Michiko realizes her love for Sunye, locking eyes with her.

In turn, Sunye gazes back at Michiko as if looking at a treasured gem.

The performance had been so natural that Seoyeon couldn’t help but admire it.

"Well, it’s no wonder."

After all, the character Michiko bore more than a passing resemblance to Ramiel, whom Seohee had embodied countless times before with such care.

But thinking about the fact that Seohee was the one performing that role now, Seoyeon instinctively rummaged through her bag for a coin.

"Ah, right... they confiscated it."

Even her stress-relieving bubble wrap had been taken away.

Nothing else felt quite as satisfying in her hands, leaving her at a loss.

...

Seoyeon took a moment to glance around.

She was currently at the KMB broadcast station, where she’d come to discuss the aftermath of her recent Japanese TV appearance.

Specifically, they were considering filming a new CM related to Dream Future.

"Looks like The Chaser is planning something too."

Apparently, the Japanese release date had been moved up, and the film was now set to premiere next month—an exceptionally rare case for a Korean movie.

With her "landmine princess" and "killer" image in Japan, it seemed Seoyeon’s reputation was anything but ordinary there.

"Anyway..."

Clearing her throat, Seoyeon casually opened her script.

Though the scenes weren’t graphic, they were still enough to make her cheeks flush.

Some of them were her own.

"I have to do this with Lee Jiyeon...?"

Until now, she hadn’t given it much thought, but seeing the scenes in person during the reading had changed that.

Now she finally understood why Seohee had been so insistent when recommending the role to her.

"It’s similar to Joharin, but deeper."

Kasugayama Yuina’s romance scenes shared certain similarities with Joharin’s. Both characters struggled to openly express their feelings for the person they loved.

And in both cases, those feelings were ultimately doomed to remain unfulfilled.

"I managed to bluff my way through Joharin, but this feels impossible."

Seoyeon felt a tinge of worry.

Her acting was fundamentally rooted in crafting emotions. If she couldn’t fully grasp Yuina’s feelings, she risked failing to bring the critical scenes to life.

"Maybe I should ask Jungwoo... no, that’s not an option."

Even Seoyeon, as shameless as she could be, knew she couldn’t ask Jungwoo for advice about this.

And among her fellow actresses, there wasn’t anyone she could comfortably ask either.

Jung Eunsun? Sure, she’d give advice if Seoyeon asked, but every meeting with Eunsun usually ended with her scolding Seoyeon.

If she brought this up with Eunsun, she could already imagine the response:

"A proper actress should carry herself with dignity. Crawling around on the ground isn’t acceptable!"

She vividly remembered the death glare Eunsun had given her after she drilled a hole into a coconut during a deserted island shoot.

Eunsun placed a great deal of importance on maintaining the image and dignity of an actress. Every time she saw Seoyeon gleefully running around on variety shows, she’d follow up with stern messages via text or chat.

"Hmm, if I have to ask for help..."

"What are you reading?"

"!!"

Startled, Seoyeon hastily closed her script and turned her gaze away.

It wasn’t that the script was particularly embarrassing, but it still felt awkward somehow.

And the voice was familiar.

"Ahem. W-what do you mean?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing."

Turning her head, Seoyeon felt her initial panic subside. Instead, a sense of pity welled up within her.

Her calm, serene "still pond" of emotions returned.

"Hello, Yeohui sunbae."

"Ah, h-hello. What a coincidence, huh?"

The woman responded with a casual smile, her tone lighthearted. Seoyeon narrowed her eyes slightly.

Come to think of it, she had sensed something earlier, even before opening her script.

At first, she’d assumed it was just another celebrity who recognized her, but...

"Wait a second."

Looking at Yeohui standing before her, Seoyeon’s thoughts began to shift.

Here, standing right in front of her, was a woman who had been unable to let go of her regrets for twenty years.

In other words, she was the perfect living reference for the kind of acting Seoyeon needed for Yuina.