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“Is this what it’s like to hold a press conference right after a scandal breaks?”

“Did you really hear his heartbeat when Yoo Seong-jae hugged you?”

For a moment, Ha-eun blinked in silence, awestruck by the scene that closely resembled what she had only ever seen in TV news.

However, it all turned out to be one big misunderstanding, from start to finish.

After all, these were merely scenes from a drama, and getting overly affected by them wouldn’t be good for either Ha-eun or Yoo Seong-jae.

Thus…

Even after the five-minute limit that Gong Hye-yeon set had passed…

“Didn’t you say they didn’t touch at all here? It’s like they’re totally overlapping in this scene.”

“The camera angle was vertical, okay? The only thing that actually touched was a fingertip.”

“You’re risking your life for this?”

“Yep. Life on the line.”

“…If that’s risking your life, then it really means they didn’t touch at all…”

Maintaining a poker face, Ha-eun tried her best to prevent any further misunderstandings.

She aimed to keep the absurd rumor of Yoo Seong-jae fainting due to her witchcraft-like kissing skills from spreading at all costs.

“What do you mean Yoo Seong-jae almost fainted on set?”

“It was because a grasshopper landed on his shoulder. As soon as he made eye contact with the grasshopper, he thought his heart had stopped.”

“Oh, I see.”

So far, she believed she had managed the situation well until she was asked for her autograph by a friend—who had implored her to sign for their cousin.

Her eyes momentarily filled with question marks, but it was whatever.

However, unlike the groups of girls who swarmed around her, overly excited by the head girl Gong Hye-yeon’s first comment…

The boys from Class 2, who were gathered a bit further away, still seemed to be nervous around Ha-eun.

Especially…

“Do-yoon, you totally give off Yoo Seong-jae vibes.”

“…Should I quit now?”

“There’s no way to find a substitute at this point. Just put aside your pride and everything else.”

“Wow… look at you talking like this like it’s not your issue.”

“So what can you even do? Other than being overshadowed by Yoo Seong-jae’s looks, what else can you do?”

The expression of ‘Joo Do-yoon,’ who played the male lead knight Kyle in “Shall We Fall Together,” wasn’t normal at all.

It seemed he was feeling some pressure about stepping onto the stage as Ha-eun’s counterpart.

The problem was that the last time Ha-eun had talked to a boy her age without hesitation was back in elementary school.

Since entering middle school, she hadn’t gotten closer than recognizing names and faces and exchanging basic greetings.

Of course, it wasn’t that Ha-eun had wanted to distance herself from the beginning.

It was just that the number of times her innocent attempts to make friends had been mistaken for romantic interest had increased day by day, inevitably leading to distance.

“I wish they could at least direct their gaze properly.”

But regardless, the important thing was that rehearsals for “Shall We Fall Together” were progressing smoothly.

She thought it wouldn’t do for this awkward situation—where she couldn’t even make eye contact with Ha-eun— to continue for long.

Perhaps that’s why.

“Hey, Hye-yeon.”

“Yes?”

“Can I wear this crow mask over here?”

A crow mask that had been sitting all alone in a corner of the large props box kept catching her eye.

She figured that if she covered her face with the mask, at least she’d be able to meet their gaze without much difficulty.

When she relayed this suggestion to Gong Hye-yeon, an okay sign came back a little while later.

Of course, checking that she could express herself as the empress would be necessary, but Gong Hye-yeon judged that she should focus more on the acting of the other friends rather than Ha-eun, who was already a well-seasoned veteran.

Thus, the rehearsal began with Ha-eun’s upper face covered by the crow mask.

Soon enough, the friends playing the commoners began to sing a song that denigrated the empress in the auditorium.

“Hmm…”

To be blunt, it wasn’t a perfect song.

If Lee Joon or Lee Gun-yeol had been there, they would have immediately been told to start from the beginning.

But still, since it was just the first rehearsal…

She decided to focus more on figuring out the general level of her friends rather than the song quality.

However.

“It’s just a song. Please don’t worry about it, as it only has voices filled with lies.”

At that moment, when she first matched harmonies with Joo Do-yoon, who played Kyle the knight…

“Alright, we’re going to start at the original speed. We’ll slow it down from the second rehearsal!”

Just as in the past when Ha-eun began her first class at Kim Gyu-tae’s action school with the highest difficulty level…

Present-day Ha-eun also aimed to test Joo Do-yoon with a little extra effort in her performance.

There was a need to ascertain just how far Joo Do-yoon could match her.

“No, those people have sincere feelings.”

To be precise, it wasn’t the maximum level of emotion Ha-eun could portray.

It was a performance that she had made moderately to not seem too extreme.

“They believe I’m the source of all their misery. And, even until their last breath, they will… truly hate me.”

With her upper face covered by a mask, all Joo Do-yoon could see was the faint smile at her lips.

However, there was a fleeting glimmer of unrest in his eyes, quivering precariously for just a moment.

It felt as though, despite facing her directly, he was looking somewhere else entirely.

Then, as a mournful tone began to reach Joo Do-yoon’s ears, the next line she had memorized vanished from her mind as if it had never existed.

“Ah, um… sorry. Let’s take a short break.”

Ultimately, rehearsals had to pause for a moment.

Once they resumed after a brief check of the lines, thankfully, no blunders took place regarding the lines.

Gong Hye-yeon asked for overall feedback just after the first act rehearsal ended.

“I guess it’d look different to a veteran who does both acting and singing. Just give me some simple pointers.”

“Hmm…”

Taking a moment to scan the faces of her friends relaxing in their respective spots, she asked what kind of feedback they were seeking.

“If 1 is the lowest and 10 is the highest for intensity, what’s your preference?”

“I’d love to say 10, but starting off too strong would be a bit too much, so maybe around 6.”

“Got it.”

Until that point, Gong Hye-yeon assumed she would only have to point out the seriously problematic aspects.

After all, Ha-eun had the image of a calm, kind girl who never spoke a bad word.

This thought of Gong Hye-yeon held true for feedback related to her friends’ performances.

Only overly exaggerated expressions or conversely, too blank expressions received gentle pointers.

However.

Once feedback related to ‘singing,’ one of the crucial elements of musical theater, commenced…

“Nah, it sounds less like high notes and more like a forced screech.”

Gong Hye-yeon poured out feedback that lightly exceeded what she’d expected.

Even while still wearing the crow mask, she felt as though those fierce eyes were piercing straight through her.

This harsh feedback stemmed entirely from the critiques Ha-eun had received from Lee Joon and Lee Gun-yeol in the past.

To be precise, while it was feedback at a level 6, as she asked for, she thought she had moderated it a bit.

However, to her other friends, who couldn’t possibly know how Doublia gave feedback, Ha-eun’s pointers could only be described as pure venom.

Perhaps it felt even heavier because the costume was the luxurious outfit of the empress too.

There was no room for compromise in even the slightest details.

Just a short while ago, the innocent demeanor of Ha-eun, head over heels in love, had been completely erased.

‘Whoa, was she always like this?’

It was bewildering.

Everything was fact and she couldn’t argue against it.

Thus, her mental state, thoroughly raked over until nothing was left, fell apart.

As someone who usually considered herself quite good at singing, that shock hit Gong Hye-yeon even harder.

As time flowed on, the shock lingered until the hall rental time came to an end.

She thought she’d feel more at ease when they all had dinner together, as there wouldn’t be any substantial feedback on singing.

But…

“Carbonated drinks aren’t good for your throat. Drink water.”

She had no idea why, but she ended up receiving feedback regarding the drink preferences of Gong Hye-yeon and the other friends.

As a result, from that day forward, Ha-eun earned the nickname “The Queen of Nagging.”

*

At roughly the point when the rehearsals for “Shall We Fall Together” had gone through several rounds, slightly different from what Ha-eun had imagined…

“What? An invitation to observe the child actor audition for ‘The Sunshine’…?”

“It’s merely a suggestion that it would be ‘nice’ if you attended. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

News regarding the child actor audition for the drama “The Sunshine,” which was now nearing the casting finalization phase, arrived.

More specifically, it was that the male lead Park Joo-ho, played by Baek Tae-hoon, had called for Ha-eun through Jung Jung-yoon.

To be accurate, whether she went or not, it wouldn’t matter much.

It was more of a light suggestion, thinking it wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to come if her schedule allowed.

But.

“I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to tell the kids you’ve helped to cheer them on.”

This thought crossed Ha-eun’s mind as she recalled the kids she had helped with the preparations for the “The Sunshine” child actor auditions, thanks to the request from Jeong Jeong-cheol.

She felt a desire to encourage those cute kids who had first met her with deep bows and polite greetings.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Lee Ha-eun.”

“…I’m Baek Tae-ho.”

Ultimately, she headed to the audition venue and met with Baek Tae-ho, who had come early.

Then followed a light handshake.

Since it was her first time meeting Baek Tae-ho directly, it was awkward in various ways.

Nonetheless, there was a need to close the distance with Baek Tae-ho for the filming of “The Sunshine,” which was set to start in a few weeks.

“So, I… watched ‘The Informants.’ You acted really well.”

She attempted to break the ice by mentioning “The Informants,” which had been released relatively recently.

And before even a few seconds had passed…

“…Isn’t that a rated R movie?”

“Oh.”

Thanks to Baek Tae-ho reminding her of a fact she’d temporarily forgotten, Ha-eun’s ice-breaking attempt went completely awry.

She began to sweat bullets almost instantly.

“Uh, um, I didn’t mean that I watched it in the theater! I found a 40-minute summary on YouTube.”

She felt more awkward than ever before.

Even though it was a film she had seen when she was an adult, she couldn’t say it was as an adult.

With each excuse she made, Baek Tae-ho’s expression changed to one of increasing bewilderment.

It was as though he were saying, “What on earth is she talking about?”

Ha-eun became convinced that she’d completely ruined her first impression.