Kim Byul doesn’t have many friends.
Considering she’s the ‘Nation’s Little Sister’ (from 10 years ago), a veteran child actor, and holds the title of the Ice Queen of the Theater and Film Department, it might seem strange that she doesn’t have friends. But reaching the pinnacle is inherently a lonely journey.
At least, that’s what she says.
But from my perspective, the reason Kim Byul doesn’t have friends is because she’s in a different age group.
Physically, she might be the same age as her peers, but mentally, she’s much older.
After all, isn’t she someone who entered society 10 years ago?
Kim Byul stood in front of cameras at an age when her peers were running around giggling and chattering nonsense with sauce smeared on their faces at tteokbokki shops.
And she wasn’t smiling because she was having fun, but because that’s how she would look the prettiest on camera. She wasn’t saying what she wanted to say, but rather what wouldn’t get her in trouble.
After all, her character had just died. Death is the end of everything. That includes the end of filming for her.
But Kim Byul knew very well that the schedule truly ends only when she’s properly said goodbye to the people on set, so she dragged her tired body around to bid her farewells.
However, the manager who was supposed to be taking care of her wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Where did Team Leader Kim go this time?
If he’s late because he’s off smoking somewhere again, this time she won’t let it slide. He wasn’t when they first met, but since becoming a team leader, he’s gotten a bit arrogant. Well, if that’s the case, Kim Byul will have to become arrogant too. She’ll have to turn into a gangster…
Fortunately, the catastrophe of pure child actor Kim Byul turning dark and losing her manners didn’t happen.
Her manager, Team Leader Kim, appeared on set with a group of people in tow.
Among them, Kim Byul even spotted CEO Baek Seung-won, dressed in a white suit and sunglasses.
While Kim Byul was wondering what was going on, everyone on the set was looking at her with strange expressions.
Especially the PD and the writer—they were on the verge of bursting into laughter. Their cheeks were puffed out.
As Kim Byul looked around in confusion, Moon In finally caught her eye.
Before she could finish her sentence, she saw Gu Yu-na standing beside him.
And next to her was her mom.
What is this? What kind of combination is this?
The answer naturally revealed itself as a cake with lit candles appeared out of nowhere.
Burst into tears before the first syllable of ‘Happy Birthday’ was even finished!
“Why didn’t you tell me beforehand…?”
Kim Byul grumbled, her eyes swollen from crying. However, she couldn’t hide the slight smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.
In the waiting room on set, Kim Byul clung to Gu Yuna like a beloved stuffed toy, making quite a pathetic sight in various ways.
“Ah—seriously, how childish… How old am I that you’re still doing things for me…?”
“Don’t you guys have anything better to do? Shouldn’t you be at school? What are you doing here…?”
Kim Byul, with her lips pursed, didn’t stop grumbling until the very end.
It was especially annoying how she pretended not to like it while clearly unable to suppress her smile.
I wanted to flick her duck-like pout with a pen, but I decided to hold back just this once.
Because today was a good day.
It was both Kim Byul’s birthday, the day she wrapped up her role in the drama, and the 10th anniversary of her contract with Baekhak Entertainment.
Of course, if you count from her debut date, it’s a bit more than 10 years, but her contract with Baekhak Entertainment was separate.
Now, Kim Byul was no longer an actress who had been under contract with Baekhak Entertainment for ‘almost 10 years’—she was an actress who had been with them for ‘exactly 10 years’.
So, Baek Seung-won, the man who might be distant with his family but is warm to his actors, planned this surprise event to commemorate the occasion.
As for me, I had received a birthday celebration from her not too long ago, so this was my way of reciprocating—or perhaps even getting back at her—by making Kim Byul cry once.
Fortunately, it seemed Kim Byul liked the surprise.
Suddenly, Kim Byul tightened her grip on Gu Yuna, who she had been hugging.
Gu Yuna silently screamed and struggled to break free, but there was no way she could overcome Kim Byul’s strength, which could even handle horseback gun action on the vast plains of Manchuria.
Kim Byul couldn’t see Gu Yuna’s expression, so she simply basked in the warmth, smiling gently.
“Ha… Hugging Yuna again after so long feels so recharging.”
“Right. Yuna looks like she’s dying of happiness right now.”
“You guys are going to Baekhak Arts High School next year, right? I guess we’ll be able to see each other at school again then?”
Though Gu Yuna finally managed to escape from Kim Byul’s embrace like a cat drenched by a shower hose, Kim Byul kept chatting cheerfully, talking about how she was looking forward to next year with a big smile.
As I watched that innocent smile, I briefly had another thought.
The adult world is ruthless. The world of capitalism is even colder.
None of those adults moved just to celebrate a child’s birthday.
Just a moment ago, CEO Baek Seung-won and Kim Byul’s mother had arrived with a camera crew in tow.
It was a team owned by Baekhak Entertainment.
That team was planning to commit the cruel and terrible act of turning Kim Byul’s birthday celebration reaction into a company YouTube variety show.
What a terrifying idea to eternally preserve a girl’s tears just for views!
It was a monstrous idea that only demons obsessed with ratings would think of.
And yet, even this was just a step in a much more wicked scheme…
In the context of the entertainment industry’s logic, such a YouTube variety show was actually a form of ‘promotion’.
In other words, it was a ‘benefit’ provided by the company to the actress.
Because it would increase her recognition.
So, why was Baekhak Entertainment trying to boost Kim Byul’s recognition?
The answer was simple.
It was because word had spread that So Tae-woong, A maestro of Korean cinema and the recipient of the Berlin Golden Bear, was preparing a new film.
And the lead role in that film was for a ‘teenager’.
As soon as the rumor spread, entertainment agencies with child actors all turned their eyes, and Baekhak Entertainment was no exception.
And Kim Byul was the strongest card Baekhak Entertainment held among their ‘teenage child actors’.
So, Baekhak Entertainment was essentially bulking up the actor who would participate in the casting competition on behalf of the company.
The timing was perfect. The filming for the drama Rosarium had wrapped up at just the right time, and thanks to the show’s success, Kim Byul’s recognition had also increased.
If the company gave her a push right now? The chances wouldn’t be low at all.
Baekhak Entertainment was probably already seeing visions of the future.
A future where they ride the wave of Director So Tae-woong’s new film, which would take the world by storm, and rake in piles of money…
But the reason my thoughts were complicated wasn’t just because Kim Byul’s birthday party was planned with such impure intentions.
To explain further, I would need to go back a bit in time.
That is, before I was invited to Kim Byul’s surprise birthday party operation.
I was just lazing around at home, having roughly finished writing the novel Dark Adaptation.
“How did you manage to find me when I’ve just moved my office?”