As Filming Begins
After finishing preparations for filming, Seoyeon noticed Lee Jiyeon standing nearby in a long padded coat. Tilting her head in confusion, Seoyeon asked, “What’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, today’s your day off, but you’re here,” Seoyeon replied.
At this, Jiyeon buried her mouth into her scarf and gave Seoyeon a sulky look.
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“It’s your filming day, so I thought I’d watch.”
Seoyeon raised an eyebrow, wondering what connection there could possibly be between her filming day and Jiyeon observing. Still, she simply nodded in understanding.
“Seoyeon, we’re ready for you. Oh, and wow, you look amazing today,” a staff member called out.
“Huh?”
“Nothing! Let’s go,” they quickly added, brushing off their comment.
Seoyeon gave a polite nod and moved toward the set.
She was dressed in a kimono adorned with a red butterfly motif. Her black hair was styled intricately, adorned with elaborate ornaments, and she carried a gombangdae pipe in her hand. Every detail of her appearance was striking.
Ji-yeon, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her long coat, silently observed. Her presence on set today was far from a random whim.
Thoughts Weighing Heavy
“Lately, she’s been worrying a lot,” Jiyeon thought.
Ji-yeon knew that, despite her constant stellar performances, Seoyeon took acting very seriously. She never spared any effort in honing her craft.
To Seoyeon, most of her life revolved around acting. Everything she did was carefully calculated to improve her skills.
“Seoyeon seems a bit more confident today,” Jo Seohui remarked as she approached Jiyeon.
“Yeah,” Jiyeon replied curtly, her gaze fixed on Seoyeon, who was listening to Director Baek Min’s instructions.
The Scenes to Be Filmed
Today’s schedule included two major scenes.
The first was a confrontation between Gotō Isamu, played by Lee Sangsoo, and Kasugayama Yuina.
The second was a direct encounter between Yuina and Michiko.
Neither scene was overtly dramatic. They were primarily dialogue-driven, requiring subtle acting skills to avoid monotony.
When Yuina spoke to Gotō Isamu, she had to portray a vulnerable, wavering side.
Conversely, in her dialogue with Michiko, she needed to unconsciously reveal her feelings for Yunsunye. Feelings of jealousy, and the subtle pain of unrequited love.
Ji-yeon quietly observed.
“Looks like she’s finally getting the hang of it,” she thought.
From a young age, Seoyeon had struggled with grasping emotions. Things most people seemed to understand intuitively often felt like something Seoyeon had to learn through experience.
This had been more pronounced during her middle school years, but now it was less of an issue.
“Why are you here on your day off, though?” Seohui asked, curiosity evident in her tone.
“Because it’s Seoyeon’s filming day,” Jiyeon replied.
“...Hmm,” Seohui muttered, her expression suggesting she somewhat understood Jiyeon’s reasoning.
Of course, Jiyeon didn’t expect others to empathize with her feelings.
Reflecting on Seoyeon
To Jiyeon, Seoyeon had always been a kind of benchmark.
Even during Seoyeon’s hiatus, Jiyeon had been certain that if she returned to acting, she’d quickly rise to the top.
And, just as Jiyeon had predicted, Seoyeon had achieved incredible success over the past year.
“If Seoyeon hadn’t continued acting...”
Ji-yeon thought she might have given up on acting as well.
Acting was a significant part of her life, but it wasn’t everything.
More than anything, Jiyeon couldn’t imagine moving forward without the memory of Seoyeon’s performances lingering like a ghost in her mind.
From the very beginning—since they had acted together in a childhood play as Snow White and the Prince—Seoyeon had left an indelible mark.
“Let’s see how well you do,” Jiyeon muttered, pulling her scarf up to cover her face.
Her gaze lingered on Seoyeon as if daring her to fail her expectations.
Noticing this, Seoyeon glanced over and smiled. Jiyeon found herself thinking how much more freely Seoyeon smiled now compared to when they were younger.
Enter Lee Sangsoo
“Let me introduce today’s featured actor, Lee Sangsoo, who will be playing Gotō Isamu,” Director Baek Min announced. “For some of you, this may be your first time meeting him.”
As Lee Sangsoo stepped onto the set in full costume, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement.
“Isn’t he the one who said he wouldn’t do any more projects?”
“I heard Seoyeon personally brought him on board.”
“Really? But how...?”
“No idea.”
Staff members whispered amongst themselves, awestruck by the presence of the legendary actor.
Lee Sangsoo, however, simply smiled at their reactions.
“Let me go over today’s scenes once more,” Director Baek Min said, his voice carrying an unusual excitement.
“We’ll be filming a pivotal moment where Gotō Isamu manipulates Yuina, and for the first time, we’ll see his true role as a puppeteer behind the scenes.”
Up until this point, Gotō Isamu had been portrayed as a mere servant under Yuina’s command. But in this scene, the audience would discover he was far more than that.
“Yuina has previously been depicted as a sharp and calculated villain. Here, though, she must reveal a more complex side of herself,” the director explained, looking at Seoyeon.
Yuina was a character who had lost her way.
In truth, she didn’t desire much—only Michiko’s fortune.
The tangled relationship between the Amamabi family, Michiko’s lineage, and the Kasugayama family, Yuina’s, was complex.
The Amamabi family had always been weaker in both legitimacy and power compared to the Kasugayama family. The situation became complicated when the younger sister of the former Kasugayama family head married the head of the Amamabi family.
The Kasugayama family head deeply cherished his younger sister. He adored Michiko, her daughter, more than his own, Yuina.
This favoritism was largely because Yuina’s mother had married into the family solely for political purposes. As a result, Michiko was treated more like a true daughter of the Kasugayama family than Yuina herself.
The former family head even went so far as to transfer a significant portion of the Kasugayama estate to the Amamabi family.
“Feelings of deep complexity must be vividly conveyed between them,” Director Baek Min explained, clapping his hands to signal the beginning of filming.
“Let’s get started. Everyone to your places.”
At his cue, the staff quickly moved into position. Among them were a few from Japan, observing intently.
A Foreign Perspective
“The way Korean films are shot is quite similar to Hollywood,” remarked Tanaka Hiroshi, a journalist from YHJ Broadcasting.
“Oh, is that so?” his colleague responded.
“Yes, the filming techniques and on-set atmosphere seem to mirror Hollywood’s in many ways.”
“Fascinating...”
Tanaka nodded, his mind wandering.
Perhaps that’s why.
The Japanese film industry had recently been undergoing a series of changes, focusing on cost efficiency and improving on-set environments. It was no coincidence that directors with Hollywood experience had been recruited to lead some of these efforts.
Tanaka had heard of Seoyeon during this period of transformation. While she wasn’t directly tied to any of YHJ’s projects, her growing reputation as an actress was undeniable.
I’ll ask about her tomorrow, he thought, deciding to focus on the scene about to be filmed.
On the Set
The scene was set in the Kasugayama mansion, an ornate, vintage estate.
Yuina stood before a portrait of her father. Her gaze held neither admiration nor love. Instead, her expression was flat, emotionless.
But her eyes told a different story—an intricate mix of hatred, anger, contempt, and something unspoken.
“Miss,” came a voice behind her.
It was Gotō Isamu, the man responsible for managing all the servants in the sprawling Kasugayama estate and the one who had stood by Yuina the longest.
He was the only one who had extended a hand to the lonely woman left behind.
“We are merely reclaiming what is rightfully yours,” Isamu said softly.
Yuina turned her gaze toward him. Isamu, head bowed, stood silently behind her.
“The Amamabi family... They are nothing more than lowly creatures unworthy of standing against us,” Isamu continued.
Yuina didn’t respond. Her mind was elsewhere, occupied by someone who had recently begun to shake her resolve.
Despite staring at her father’s portrait to fuel her hatred, she found it harder than before to summon those feelings.
“Amamabi Michiko stole many things that should have been yours,” Isamu pressed on, raising his eyes to Yuina.
His usual warm smile was still on his face, the kind that had even deceived Yunsunye. A face that anyone would describe as kind and trustworthy.
But his eyes glistened with madness, a dangerous fervor hidden beneath his mask.
“Why hesitate now?”
Isamu’s voice was sharp as he stepped forward, grabbing the collar of Yuina’s kimono.
“Never forget—Michiko only bows to us out of greed. She is nothing more than a street rat, a common wench.”
“Isamu.”
“Remember, Miss,” Isamu interrupted her weak protest, continuing relentlessly.
“Kasugayama Rihito was a traitor.”
The name of the former head of the Kasugayama family hung in the air.
“As the family head, he lived not for the Kasugayama lineage but for the Amamabi family.”
Isamu’s grip on Yuina’s collar tightened as his fervor intensified. His eyes bore into her, wide with unrestrained fury.
“He bequeathed the family’s inheritance to his niece, ignoring his own daughter who reached out to him.”
His voice trembled as if he were exhaling his very soul.
“He abandoned everything—the Kasugayama name, the family, and even his own daughter.”
Yuina bit her lower lip, the weight of his words crashing down on her.
He’s right.
The former family head, Kasugayama Rihito, had forsaken her.
Bringing down the Amamabi family was not just revenge—it was her birthright. She was only reclaiming what should have been hers.
But...
Yuina took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
The air around her stilled.
Everyone watching the scene held their breath, captivated.
Among them was Jiyeon, who unconsciously clenched her sleeve tightly.
Gotō Isamu’s portrayal by Lee Sangsoo was mesmerizing, even intimidating. Jiyeon couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever be able to match his performance.
“Isamu.”
Yuina finally spoke.
Her voice, usually sharp and cutting, carried a note of resignation.
“You’re right. I’ve always been the one to lose. This time, it’s my chance to reclaim what’s mine.”
Her words seemed more directed at herself than at Isamu.
In fact, they were.
Yuina’s Inner Conflict
Seoyeon, playing Yuina, struggled to fully grasp the character’s emotions in this moment.
Why would someone like Yuina, who had lost so much, feel resignation instead of hatred?
But after hearing Yeohee’s advice, she began to understand.
It wasn’t resignation. It wasn’t even giving up.
It was the inability to act otherwise, knowing full well the consequences of her actions.
She couldn’t hate, even though she desperately wanted to.
She couldn’t bring herself to destroy someone else, even if it was her right.
“But...”
Yuina gripped her kimono tightly.
Meeting Yunsunye and repeatedly confronting Michiko through her had changed her.
“I... I can’t do it,” Yuina said, looking directly at Isamu.
And then she smiled.
It was the first genuine smile Yuina had shown in the entire story—a sorrowful smile, brimming with sadness and self-sacrifice.
A smile of someone who chose another’s happiness over her own.
Isamu, caught off guard, was rendered speechless.