‘So, red pills are actually quite dangerous.’
Seohui Jo became a virtual YouTuber because of Sooyeon Joo.
To be precise, it was to improve her relationship with Sooyeon, who had been oddly upset with her at the time, that she sought advice from Jiyeon.
“There is a better method, but honestly, I’m unsure if you can manage it.”
While discussing various things, Jiyeon suddenly mentioned this.
People are like that.
Even if it’s just a small thing, hearing “You probably can’t do it” tends to invoke a competitive spirit.
Seohui was in such a situation back then.
Of course, one reason was that this method would bring her closest to Sooyeon.
“Virtual YouTuber?”
It was a completely unfamiliar job to Seohui. She had heard of regular YouTubers and streamers, but using virtual avatars to broadcast was something new to her. Despite her initial doubts, she began broadcasting due to Sooyeon’s fondness for it, starting with hesitation.
Moreover, as mentioned earlier, Jo Seohui enjoyed broadcasting quite a lot. It was stress-relieving, and though this side had its own fair share of troublesome fans or potential issues, most problems were generally solved by law.
Seohui’s group had one of the top legal teams in South Korea, and even major corporations couldn’t compare with the Newlike Group, Seohui’s backing.
Currently, the Korean cultural industry was firmly divided into two major powers: Newlike Group and GH Group. Although GH originally led, Newlike Group took the upper hand after Chairman Cho Seok-hwan’s ascent.
‘And GH Group’s preparing one of their countermeasures, using Sooyeon Joo.’
They were definitely planning various moves, starting with the movie <Mine>.
Nevertheless, Seohui didn’t pay much attention to such things. After all, as an actress, she had never received any form of backup from Newlike Group. Her father’s business was his own matter, and she had her own responsibilities to focus on.
Frankly, from Seohui’s perspective, it didn’t matter if GH Group surpassed them. After all, in the end, it would boil down to the same thing, right?
The earnings might differ, but as she was financially secure anyway, it was just something like that to her. Even if her company collapsed overnight, Seohui could live a comfortable life on her personal wealth.
Anyway, leaving aside such minor company issues, the critical matter was the virtual YouTuber.
‘Frankly, I was skeptical at first.’
The initial reason for starting was Sooyeon, but from an honest standpoint where Seohui had become quite sincere about it, she currently felt somewhat bewildered.
Sure, she had been forewarned.
“Soyeon, stop fooling around and get up.”
“Huh? Wait. You don’t seriously mean she actually fainted, do you?”
“…Seriously?”
While poking Sooyeon’s cheek, Seohui started to panic.
Who would’ve known that the red pill could be that dangerous?
“I did tell you.”
Of course, Jiyeon was nonchalantly saying such things, but really…
When searching for “red pills,” online community comments like “Gah, red pills,” and “I guess she’s doing virtual YouTuber stuff because of her appearance” were fairly common.
But who would’ve thought she’d actually pass out?
‘Just as Jiyeon said, Sooyeon must genuinely love this stuff.’
So all those words Sooyeon had spoken while donating to her virtual avatar “Alice” were sincere?
‘If she could just be half as kind to me.’
When broadcasting as Alice, Sooyeon could never be more friendly.
– Ah, so I’m weak for this kind of lady-character.
– Alice is just too cute ☹️
With such chats, she would donate around 100,000 won each time, making Seohui slightly awkward. It felt so strange to feel like you were receiving charitable donations from a friend.
Especially to someone like Seohui, who barely received gifts, this was doubly awkward.
‘Has she forgotten that I’m from a wealthy family?’
Viewing her purely as an actress might allow that, but isn’t Sooyeon aware of it by now? She even took her to Minae Park recently.
But it appears Sooyeon didn’t care about the person inside and was sincerely giving to “Alice.”
“Here, this is the money I received this time.”
“…Is it a lot? It’s almost the same as mine?”
“Huh?”
Seohui handed over all the money she had received to Jiyeon, and apparently, Jiyeon passed it on to Sooyeon’s parents, who used it as pocket money or living expenses.
“Almost the same? Wait…”
Seohui immediately understood what Jiyeon’s words implied. So, it seems the donation amount Sooyeon sent had finally caught up to Alice, nearing the amount given to Ramiel.
Originally, there had been quite a gap.
“Hmm, might I end up receiving more?”
Seohui covered her mouth with her hand and chuckled, “ho ho ho.” This was, in fact, Alice’s gesture.
At Seohui’s expression, Jiyeon’s eyes became sharper as she looked at her.
“Anyway, I’ll be putting extra effort into my broadcasts from now.”
“…Huh? You haven’t forgotten that we’re in the middle of filming, right?”
“Since Yeon Seonye’s acting referenced Ramiel, it’s somewhat helpful anyway.”
Is that so? But Jiyeon’s acting this time was actually quite impressive. Even Seohui was drawn into her impromptu performance.
Sometimes an actor’s improvisation can surpass the original script.
However, for a director who dislikes improvisation, it can also provoke irritation. Director Baek Min was exactly that type, so Seohui was a little tense.
Honestly, until now Director Baek Min might not have minded reshooting, but this time, the scene had come out incredibly well.
Especially the final scene where Michiko held hands with Yeon Seonye and ran was outstanding. The script originally read simply, “A scene where Michiko helps up Seonye after she falls,” but the impact grew much stronger than intended.
“Adding background music here would really make this quite amazing.”
Such was the sound director’s comment. Director Baek Min gave a slight warning but also acknowledged Jiyean’s skill in improvisation.
‘Such reflexes can’t be achieved easily with effort alone.’
Seohui thought, looking at Jiyeon who was glaring at her bluntly.
Certainly, her acting skills fell behind those of Seohui and Sooyeon, but her reflexes were different.
No wonder Ramiel’s broadcasts skyrocketed quickly. This sudden brilliance was indeed a matter of talent.
‘Talent…’
The word left a somewhat ambiguous impression on Seohui. As a child, everyone praised Seohui as a prodigy actress, but at some point, such talk disappeared.
Of course, Seohui isn’t completely talentless. After all, in the arts and entertainment industry, one can’t even debut properly without talent.
However, compared to her mother’s talent, it felt lacking. Those who knew her mother’s identity would naturally start comparing between Seohui and her mother.
“Certainly talented, but…”
Such remarks felt like Seohui’s face was being overshadowed by someone else’s.
Once those statements wounded her pride, but now, she lets them pass.
Anyway, Seohui knows. Because she didn’t possess the same brilliance as Sooyeon, such reactions were inevitable.
Just as her father had said, she didn’t inherit much of the actor’s talent.
Her mother’s brilliance.
She didn’t carry that sparkle.
“Anyway, Jo Seohui, don’t get too full of yourself. I’ll widen the gap again next time.”
“Huh? No, no. I wasn’t thinking of competing with something like this?”
“As much as you’re laughing while saying that.”
Hmph, Jiyean’s remark made Seohui cross her arms.
Well, anyway, winning was a pleasant feeling.
Whether it was as a virtual YouTuber or as an actor.
Even if she’s a bit behind now, she surely believes she’ll grasp her goal someday.
Even the lacking talent would, someday…
With that thought lingering, feeling she had gotten the better of Jiyeon, Seohui happily made her way to the filming set. Since today’s shooting schedule was light and she was filming with Sooyeon, she planned to quickly wrap up and suggest going shopping.
‘After all, acting with Sooyeon makes me feel like my skills are improving a bit.’
Among her peers, there’s no actor who fits well with Seohui’s acting. However, not only did Sooyeon match her but she also brought out even greater potential.
‘Like that time when we were grappling.’
At that moment, Seohui was undoubtedly a few times more immersed than her usual performances.
Just as Sooyeon had become immersed in “Yuina,” Seohui had completely immersed herself in “Michiko.”
Is that what they call method acting?
Seohui hadn’t experienced such immersion before, but she finally understood what it felt like.
Becoming completely engrossed in a character was somewhat unfamiliar to her.
“So, how about shopping after we finish today?… Why are you looking at me like that?”
Feeling strange about Sooyeon’s odd reaction, Seohui had to ask.
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Indeed, Sooyeon’s response had that unmistakable “guilty puppy” face.
According to Jiyean, it’s the face Joo Sooyeon makes when she’s done something wrong.
*
‘Should I finally start speaking casually now?’
Sooyeon found herself deep in thought.
It felt like that typical “terrible situation” dilemma she often read about.
Knowing Jo Seohui’s past, was it her fault for feeling guilty?
‘But wasn’t it you who first used the “parachute” comment…’
Even as she tried to justify herself, it was true that she had lingered on that comment for too long.
Jo Seohui had already apologized back in the day.
Of course, Sooyeon had only been joking around, but knowing the backstory now made it difficult to describe her feelings.
‘According to the timeline, Jo Seohui must’ve started acting not long after losing her mother.’
To be precise, Jo Seohui’s career began after her mother, Bai Seo-ran, had passed away.
In other words, she started her acting career after losing her mother.
It was hard for Sooyeon to imagine the mindset Jo Seohui had when she began acting during such a period.
Her past self, who couldn’t comprehend emotions, would’ve undoubtedly thought nothing of it.
But now, after gaining so much, Seoyeon couldn’t dare to imagine.
If something were to happen to her own mother, Sua…
Though Sooyeon wasn’t weak mentally, she wasn’t sure how she’d cope if she lost something she cherished so much so soon.
After all, it wasn’t until quite recently that she had truly understood the emotion of “liking” something.
‘Yet despite all that, she began an acting career without any mention of Newlike Group.’
To be exact, back then, there was no mention of Newlike Group or Bai Seo-ran in “Child Actor Jo Seohui’s” narrative.
It meant that Jo Seohui had genuinely started from scratch under her own name.
From her perspective, Sooyeon probably seemed arrogant due to being recommended by the director back then.
Saying “parachute” in that context wasn’t strange at all.
‘How solid must her mental fortitude be?’
Separately from that, upon seeing Jo Seohui who was so unfazed while looking at her innocently, Sooyeon was startled for the first time.
To put it awkwardly, Jo Seohui, even as a child, had not a trace of shadow on her face.
‘Apparently, she was the first to discover the body.’
Jo Seohui was the first to find her mother’s extreme corpse. It could have easily become a lifelong trauma, yet seeing her so normal, it was extraordinary.
As someone who had passed out from the red pill as a virtual YouTuber, Sooyeon was astounded by Jo Seohui’s mental strength.
Sooyeon was generally mentally strong, except for the part about virtual YouTubers.
Ah, not being afraid anymore doesn’t mean anything these days—she doesn’t claim she’s fearless anymore.
Nope, I just get super scared easily.
Huh.
That’s the feeling.
Anyway, she generally didn’t waver easily in most situations.
But, wasn’t that beyond the threshold of “most situations”?
Anyway, since Seohui was so fine, maybe that’s why her father, Cho Seok-hwan, had said such things to Sooyeon and Jiyean.
Knowing that both of them would understand the situation, he trusted Jo Seohui to handle it.
What kind of trustworthiness is that?
“Seolyeon, are you not going shopping? The filming today will be over soon, and shall I call Jiyeon, too?”
“…Yeah, I’ll go.”
After hesitating for a bit, Seoyeon answered Seohui.
Then,
“…Informal speech?”
Seohui, noticing Sooyeon had omitted honorifics, said without thinking.
Then she quickly covered her mouth with both hands.
No, the tone just felt a bit off.
“Use honorifics?” Seohui was thinking. “Informal speech?” That tone made it sound like “how dare you speak informally to me?”
So, Seohui shook her head to and fro, trying to show it wasn’t her intention.
“…I’ll stick to honorifics then.”
“No no, informal speech is totally fine. But… why? Was it the wind?”
“…”
And if Sooyeon were to answer Seohui’s question, why the shift in tone?
She certainly couldn’t say, “I saw a previous article and thought it might be awkward to use informal speech.”
‘Oh well, I ended up speaking formally. Should’ve just said it straightforwardly.’
She decided that for now, she would keep using honorifics while testing Seohui’s reaction. Once there’s a clearer opportunity, she’ll switch back to speaking informally.
‘This is what they call self-inflicted harm.’
Sooyeon reflected. From now on, she’d be more open-hearted and lenient toward others.
That’s how it went, until a few days later.
“Hey, you’re Joo Sooyeon, right? Your eyes looked a bit redder in the video. Are you wearing contacts? What an interesting taste!”
Until she met a rude fairy that day.