It all happened in the blink of an eye.
The moment Seoyeon’s head was hit into Jiyeon, the latter delivered unexpected dialogue.
“Was there such a line?”
“No, the script definitely didn’t include such a line.”
“So, it was all improvisation?”
The staff exchanged glances, murmuring quietly.
There was no other option.
From the moment Jiyeon collided and hit her head against Seoyeon, it was already an “NG.”
After all, the scene had never been planned this way.
Yet, Jiyeon’s spontaneous line immediately diffused the tense atmosphere, lightening it.
Nothing could have been a better response to stop the quarrel between the two.
It made sense because Yeonseonye, who had been relatively under the radar, acting as a bridge between both parties, was exactly the type to do something like this.
Even more, the staff were confused whether Jiyeon’s line was improvised or not because it didn’t stop after just one line.
“I’ve hated you for a while now, you evil woman. Lady, stay there. Let me give her a good scolding.”
With those words, she grabbed the hair of Yuina, who had been struck in the face, and tumbled her on the ground.
While rolling, she whispered into Yuina’s ear.
The entire sequence flowed so naturally, like it had been written into the original script. Even Director Baek Min, who knew the script inside out, subconsciously glanced at it again for a moment.
It was too perfect for the scene.
“Quick thinking,” Director Baek thought to himself.
Lowering the hand he had raised to call out another “NG,” he looked at Jiyeon with renewed appreciation.
To be honest, Director Baek had not held Jiyeon’s acting as highly as Seoyeon’s or Jo Seohui’s.
Her acting was not bad. Compared to other actors of a similar age, it was good enough, but by Director Baek’s standards, being just “better than peers” was far from passing grade.
“But her audition showed a color that perfectly matched Yeonseonye.”
A relatively understated performance.
That’s why she suited the role of Yeonseonye.
And her unique charm had particularly resonated with Director Baek.
“Perhaps it’s her quick reflexes. She knows how to handle situations when crises arise.”
Of course, knowing doesn’t equate to executing immediately. It’s not something anyone can do easily. Even Seohui Jo and Seoyeon, when faced with this unexpected incident, seemed momentarily flustered.
Yet in such a situation, the scene was salvaged because Jiyeon immediately delivered lines that suited the narrative, bringing the skewed script back on track.
From the moment her head collided, everything Yeonseonye said was improv by Jiyeon.
From now on, everything would be.
“Are you crazy? Do you want me dead? What’s happening at broad daylight? Why don’t you just announce that I secretly attempted to cut all your heads off?”
At this point, Yeonseonye had yet to reveal that Yuina was someone planted by Michiko.
Although Michiko had some suspicions, Yeonseonye had not yet disclosed it.
However, the dialogue just uttered by Yuina, layered with Seoyeon’s interpretation of her emotions, made it quite significant.
When Yuina proclaimed that she possessed everything, her gaze swept over Yeonseonye, which was certainly not in the script.
Seoyeon must have interpreted it as something Yuina would have done. As Yuina prepared to retaliate, she froze and looked towards Yeonseonye.
In response to this, Yeonseonye, realizing things had come to this, again crashed her head into Yuina, and the two rolled away from each other.
“Our lady is hurt, look! Her beautiful dress is all ruined.”
“Se, Seonye, you’re bleeding!”
“It hurts! I know, ugh, it really aches. How is your lady’s head so hard? Hold on, let me check…”
After roughly wiping her head with her sleeve, Yeonseonye reached out to Michiko.
“Lady, grab my hand.”
“Uh… uh?”
“You intend to stay here like this? There are so many spectators. Are you going to keep fighting? She’s glaring at you. Grab my hand, quickly!”
Though hurriedly spoken, this dialogue from Yeonseonye made Michiko glance alternately between Yeonseonye’s extended hand and Yuina’s bewildered face.
Then—
“Hmph. Looks like you both got what you deserved. Let’s go, Seonye.”
Michiko grabbed her hand and got up, allowing herself to be pulled and run along with Yeonseonye through the crowd.
Hand in hand, the two couldn’t help but burst into laughter as they ran.
Thus ran the two through the crowd.
The cameras instinctively followed them, and a few cameras lingered on Yuina, whose gaze alternated between the duo in disbelief.
But only for a short moment.
Yuina smirked, watching as the two disappeared entirely.
“Indeed, such a hilarious sight.”
Upon seeing this reaction from her, the surrounding crowd members, serving as extras, looked at her with perplexed eyes.
No doubt their looks were genuine—they were seeing things not scripted in the script.
After all, this entire sequence of unexpected dialogues and scenes wasn’t supposed to happen.
Or rather, they did exist in the script but never carried this feeling.
“Who’s looking?”
Yuina turned to glare at the onlookers. The crowd, upon receiving her gaze, scattered in confusion.
Yuina then picked up her toy bear, which had been left behind in the chaos.
“…for me, too.”
After a brief glance at the direction where Yeonseonye and Michiko had disappeared, she slowly turned around, her back contrasting with the lively duo that had just run off holding hands.
The camera captured these moments as the scene wrapped up.
Undeniably, if you observed closely, the scene matched the script’s contents.
Yeonseonye takes Michiko, in a disheveled state, and they vanish. The sequence ends with an emotionally complex look from Yuina.
However, the parts where Yeonseonye and Michiko hold hands while laughing and running, and the meaningful line delivered by Yuina at the end, were all elements not on the script but newly reinterpreted.
“Was all of Yeonseonye’s dialogue improvisation?”
“Really? Well, I thought it was too natural to have been scripted. The fall wasn’t acting anyway, right? Jiyeon really did fall.”
“Even I thought, ‘oh, that’s wrong,’ but…”
From the moment of the fall, she naturally delivered her lines.
Such was the case for Seoyeon and Jo Seohui.
Their performances had reached an immersion level that made it difficult for other actors to interject easily.
Had Yeonseonye just interrupted as originally intended, it could have ruined the flow of the scene entirely.
Though technically correct, it would have robbed the protagonist of any impact.
Yet, the simple accident was cleverly transformed into the protagonist’s decisive action.
“Even though it was all Yiyeon’s improvisation, the two who responded to her were quite impressive as well.”
“They slightly altered the nuances of dialogues that were already supposed to be in the script.”
That’s why the scene connected so smoothly. Changed parts were corrected on the spot by Yiyeon’s instant dialogue.
“There, really, this turned out so well. Look at this.”
The cameraman grinned as he showed footage of Michiko and Yeonseonye running and laughing.
“Doesn’t this look amazing even without any music?”
“I thought the same thing earlier. This truly fits the romance genre, doesn’t it?”
High praise from the staff. Even the actors, after seeing the film, were astonished by how well the scenes turned out.
Of course, regardless of all that,
“Sorry… it deviated so much from the script…”
Jiyeon cautiously approached Director Baek Min, apologizing. By the way, her head was now bandaged.
Apparently, she had genuinely injured herself while headbutting Seoyeon’s face. It was strange why Seoyeon, who had been hit twice—once on her face and the other on her head—was fine, while Jiyeon’s head, which had headbutted twice, was bleeding.
“Such a sturdy girl.”
Of course, Jiyeon was unconcerned about the wound.
What mattered was whether Director Baek Min would ignore this particular performance—or not.
“What if he tells us to reshoot?”
After all, the performance deviated significantly from Director Baek Min’s planned feelings and essence of the scene.
However impressive the improvisation, it still wasn’t something that should be done without cause. If everyone took it upon themselves to act as they pleased, what would be the role of a director?
Jiyeon’s apology made Director Baek Min pause in thought. Naturally, the staff, who were enjoying the captured scenes and laughing, now tensed up.
“Is he really going to make us reshoot?”
“With Director Baek Min, it’s usually normal to reshoot entirely.”
“Ah, but that would be such a waste of a good scene.”
Tension filled the air as everyone looked at Baek Min. Sensing the mood, he chuckled faintly.
“What do you all think of me? I’m not making you reshoot. This is a good scene. Yes, admittedly, I internally screamed ‘NG’ a hundred times, but this… it’s fitting. Though, it does slightly depart from what I intended.”
He patted Jiyeon’s shoulder.
“I’m going to let this slide since it was an accident that turned into acting. And ultimately, the lines were attempting to bring the original script back anyway.”
Originally, the scene was supposed to feel heavier. Excessive emotion in full measure.
But even with the tone slightly toned down, the scene’s overall completion improved.
The emotions subtly displayed by Yuina without being overt were especially to his liking.
As he was thinking this, someone approached.
“Isn’t it scary how young actors these days perform? When I was young, this would have been astonishing.”
It was actor Lee Sang-soo.
He made the comment to ease the situation now that things had calmed down, fearing Baek Min might change his mind.
“Yes, it is surprising how each of them has their own distinct colors.”
Indeed, Seoyeon’s performance clearly stood out.
Even the final line.
“Yuina would definitely say something like that.”
That line was exactly what Baek Min had envisioned for the scene’s emotions: complicated and heavy.
Unlike the others, Yuina belonged to Director Baek Min’s vision, and that was enough for him to let it pass.
The most critical essence of the scene was still within his original intent.
‘Despite everything, she grasped the essence and performed accordingly.’
The atmosphere lightened.
The playful performances by Yeonseonye and Michiko.
The contrasting shades.
Seoyeon likely understood.
That Yuina should not perform a style befitting the others but stick to the originally planned role.
‘Jiyeon’s judgment was far beyond my expectation, but in Seoyeon’s case… I must admit, it’s impressive.’
This side was equally fast. Even when headbutted earlier, she had been observing Jiyeon’s performance.
Almost as if predicting that Jiyeon would improvise.
Thinking of this, Baek Min smiled at Jiyeon, who was nervously peeking at him.
“Jiyeon and Seoyeon, you two are old friends, aren’t you?”
“Yes? Oh, yes. We’ve known each other since kindergarten.”
“Exactly.”
“Uh?”
“Haha, never mind.”
Seoyeon might have predicted that Jiyeon would improvise, and Jiyeon subconsciously believed Seoyeon would accommodate it.
Such synchronization between them greatly pleased Baek Min.
‘That’s why it felt more genuine when you two ran off holding hands with Michiko.’
A complicated gaze.
However, the strongest emotion among those tangled feelings was a slightly pointed jealousy.
Baek Min thoroughly approved of it.
‘Perfectly Ramiel.’
At the end of the day, watching Yiyeon’s performance reminded Seoyeon of a 3D avatar she had in mind.
No matter how severe it might sound, it made sense. After all, Yeonseonye’s character was based on Ramiel’s.
‘As expected, Jiyeon is great at handling situations. This has been true since last life.’
This was something known since then.
For both Virtual YouTubers and regular YouTubers, one of the essential skills is adaptability.
With frequent live broadcasts, awkward situations often arose.
Given that Jiyeon had been a member of ‘Seven Live,’ the most popular VTuber group at that time, she was often entangled in various incidents.
Each time, Ramiel cleverly navigated those situations.
‘So that adaptability is what made her shine in improvisational acting?’
With a sharp gaze, Seoyeon looked at Jiyeon by her side the day after filming.
Jiyeon, unusually, seemed thrilled.
Though usually Seoyeon would visit Jiyeon’s class after school, today it was Jiyeon who came to find Seoyeon.
“Jiyeon, why are you staring at me like that.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not. Your expression says it all.”
Jiyeon simply thought the strange reaction had nothing to do with Ramiel.
Certainly, Seoyeon wasn’t genuinely pouting either.
She just teased a little.
That wasn’t important right now.
Seoyeon, suppressing her sullen look, spoke awkwardly.
“So, what kind of flowers to buy for a sick visit? Lilacs?”
“You really want to get her killed?”
Jiyeon chuckled.
By the way, their destination was Jo Seohui’s house, which they had visited a few days ago.
Why they were going there?
“You hit her too hard.”
“I didn’t exactly hit her hard.”
It was just acting. Besides, Seohui Jo was fairly resilient and could handle being tossed around without issue. She seemed fine yesterday, though the throw was a little more forceful than usual.
Seohui remained unfazed during filming, adrenaline keeping her upright. But after the cameras stopped, she collapsed.
Thus, Seoyeon, as the de-facto ‘offender,’ found herself naturally obligated to visit the next day.
“Her house is huge… who do you think will answer the door when we ring the bell?”
Jiyeon pressed the doorbell nonchalantly.
Would it be the housekeeper they saw last time?
As they waited with that thought, a middle-aged man opened the door.
“Who is it?”
At the sight of him, Jiyeon hesitated, wondering who this gentleman was.
Seoyeon, however, was instantly frozen.
It was impossible not to freeze. After all, she had a photographic memory for anyone associated with the industry.
That memory immediately registered who this man was.
“The chairman of Newlike Group.”
In other words, Jo Seohui’s father.
