Chapter 9
Seol pulled a mask out of her coat pocket and looped it over her ears. Her small face was completely covered, leaving only her eyes visible.
Inside the elevator, she pressed her fingers against her eyes, trying to stop the tears welling up.
She’d seen it often in dramas—the evil women chasing after rich families for their money. Did her teacher see her that way?
Her anger fizzled out as quickly as it flared up, like a burst bubble. It made sense. After four years, she suddenly appeared and proposed marriage—of course, he’d be taken aback.
And he didn’t seem to get along well with Chairman Kang either. Was that why he didn’t like her?
The more she thought about it, the worse she felt, like she was sinking into a hole.
Still, she was sincere.
How could she convey her feelings? Time was running out, but the teacher’s walls were so high.
“What if he leaves for America just like that?”
Stepping out of the lobby, Seol glanced up at the building before slumping and hailing a taxi.
When she reached for her phone to call her manager, Sun-young, her hand froze. Her pocket was empty.
“Oh no, my phone.”
Where could she have lost it? She’d had it when she went to her teacher’s house.
Could she have left it there?
But going back now would be impossible in this situation.
“Excuse me, driver. I’m sorry, but could I borrow your phone for a moment? I lost mine.”
She turned to the taxi driver for help.
“Thank you, sir.”
When they arrived at her destination, Sun-young was already there, paying the taxi fare.
“Seol, where’s your phone?”
“I lost it.”
“How? There’s nothing important on it, right?”
“No.”
Her phone was mostly for staying in touch with her grandmother or her manager. Thanks to Mina’s constant monitoring, she didn’t even store numbers for Chairman Kang or Director Choi. She had memorized the few she needed.
“Oh, right. Happy birthday, Seol!”
“Thank you.”
“It’s a shame you’re working on your birthday. Would’ve been nice to hang out with friends on a day like this.”
Seol smiled instead of answering.
Sun-young didn’t know because they hadn’t worked together long—Seol had no friends. She had colleagues but not friends, having spent her life growing up on sets.
“But Seol, you look especially pretty today. You’re always pretty, but more so today.”
Seol smiled again, but it tasted bitter. The one person whose praise she wanted hadn’t said a word.
“Seol, there’s something for you.”
Clapping her hands like she’d just remembered, Sun-young led Seol to a corner of the set.
“It’s from your fan community.”
It was a food truck serving churros and coffee.
“Happy Birthday, Actress Yoon Seol!”
A large banner with Seol’s photo hung on the pink truck.
“There are also gifts and flowers from the companies you model for in your dressing room. You’ll need to take a photo and post it later.”
Seol nodded quietly. It was for the agency’s social media account.
“Seol, is something wrong? You seem down today.”
Sun-young soon realized why. The agency CEO, who was also Seol’s mother, hadn’t even called.
“The CEO did call earlier—”
“It’s fine, unni.”
“What?”
“My mom doesn’t care about me anyway. Let’s just take the photos. Please hurry.”
Caught off guard, Sun-young fumbled with her phone camera.
“Okay, smile for the photo?”
Standing next to the truck, Seol smiled like a doll with no emotions.
[Keep a close watch on her, Sun-young. That’s your job—to make sure Yoon Seol doesn’t do anything stupid or get into trouble. That’s what your salary is for.]
Her mother controlled and monitored her every move. They weren’t like normal mothers and daughters.
Despite being her mom, the CEO never asked Seol how she was doing—whether she was eating well or if work was tough.
Word had it that even gifts sent to the agency for Seol were taken by her mom.
Sun-young, still a rookie manager, found herself feeling sorry for Seol. She worked endlessly to keep the agency afloat, yet had no time for herself.
“Never mind, don’t overthink it,” she told herself.
Even so, Sun-young knew: that worrying about celebrities was pointless.
“Cut!”
“Sorry, director, I bit my tongue,” cooed Seo Ye-rang, sticking her tongue out playfully.
The filming resumed, but it wasn’t the first time. Seol had already been slapped over seven times.
“Seol, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Your face is swollen. Ye-rang, let’s just pretend this time, okay?”
“But director, it’ll look fake. Just one last time, I promise!”
Her “last time” had already come and gone five times.
“Seol, are you fine with that?” Ye-rang feigned concern, knowing the answer.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. No one wanted to upset Seo Ye-rang and risk delays.
Seol endured, even though her face stung and her pride hurt.
Later, back at her grandmother’s hospital room, Seol pushed the door open with a cheerful smile.
“Grandma! Your beautiful princess is here!”
“My darling, you’ve worked hard, haven’t you? Happy birthday.”
Seol’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the melon on the table.
“Grandma! I was craving melon, and you just knew?”
As she opened a familiar lunchbox next to the melon, she paused.
“Grandma… Did my teacher… come by?”
