Chapter 10: The Weight of a Villain’s Mask

Hours had passed since I returned home from my grueling schedule. Still in my clothes, I slumped onto the sofa and began to read the script my manager had brought.

Including the project I’d auditioned for, there was an overwhelming number of casting offers for various dramas. The problem, however, was that most roles were either villains or minor supporting characters with minimal screen time.

I clearly auditioned for lead roles, so why did directors and writers consistently offer me villainous parts? Their answer, of course, would always be the same. ‘Because it suits you.’

“Joon-hee, would you like to take a look at this one too?”

My manager, witnessing the utter crumpling of my face, subtly extended another script. With a heavy sigh, convinced it would be no different, I set down the one I was holding.

“No,” I replied curtly. “They’re all the same anyway. Either a villain or a supporting role with barely any lines.”

“Still, getting continuous casting offers is a good thing. If you just seize the next opportunity—”

“When is that ‘next’ even going to be?!”

My pent-up frustration lashed out at an undeserving target. Though I quickly apologized to my blameless manager, my mood plummeted even further into despair.

While true for everyone in this industry, for an actor, having an image irrevocably cemented was akin to receiving a death sentence.

From now on, I would only be offered those kinds of roles. Even worse, it was obvious that if the public grew tired of me playing the same type of character, casting offers would dwindle to nothing.

Having practically grown up on film sets, there was no path for me outside of acting. If the public forgot me, if I could no longer act, how was I supposed to live?

The mere thought made my vision blur, and I felt as though I was cast adrift in a suffocating darkness.

Gasping, I drew ragged breaths. My startled manager patted my back until, as my anxiety gradually subsided, my breathing finally returned to normal.

“You know how it is. I’ll eventually be discarded like this.”

“No, that’s not true. There are still many opportunities; don’t be hasty, just think it through.”

“But the opportunities aren’t coming! Everyone just wants me to do the same thing!”

I desperately wanted to cry. Yet, if it wasn’t for a role, I couldn’t even weep freely. My ability to control emotions better than anyone else felt like a curse in moments like these.

Raising my arm, I vigorously rubbed my burning eyelids, then left my manager and retreated to my room. Without turning on the light, I crawled into bed and pulled the blankets over my head.

Normally, being enveloped in complete darkness would calm my mind, but now, perhaps due to my anxiety, it offered no solace. Even clutching my rapidly beating heart and trying to regulate my breathing proved futile.

If only I could just sleep, I might feel better, but without medication, even sleep eluded me. After an indeterminate amount of time spent hidden in the darkness, the door quietly opened, and my manager stepped inside.

“I’ll be heading out now. Don’t stay up too late; you have a schedule tomorrow.”

I remained silent.

“And this,” he continued, “is Choi Yoon-hee’s new work. It’s another villain role, but she wrote it with you in mind from the very beginning. She really hopes you’ll take on this part. I know you’re struggling, but even the CEO seems to think this is a role you absolutely must do.”

I knew it. Missing out on Choi Yoon-hee’s new project, of all people, would be foolish. Yet, the thought of playing another villain was even more repulsive.

So much so that I wouldn’t care if I squandered this golden opportunity.

“I’m sorry to bring up work when you’re clearly having a tough time. I’ll get going now.”

Only a long while after my manager had left did I finally emerge from beneath the blankets. I switched on the mood lamp, revealing a script neatly placed on the drawer.

****

As an actress, it was incredibly gratifying that Choi Yoon-hee, a guaranteed ratings powerhouse, had personally offered me a role. However, knowing it was yet another villain made my feelings a complicated mix of joy and apprehension.

This project would undoubtedly succeed. Yet, its success would only further solidify my image as an actress who played villains, an image I might never shake. The pros and cons were so starkly clear that making a decision felt impossible.

‘It wouldn’t hurt just to read it,’ I mused.

After idly tracing the cover for a long time, I finally succumbed to the temptation. I switched on the room light and opened the script. Turning the first page, I saw the drama’s title and the names of the cast members listed.

‘This is the third time,’ I noted inwardly.

Directly beneath the two lead actors, my name was inscribed: ‘Yoo Seo-jin, played by Yoo Joon-hee.’ The order of names in a script usually correlated with screen time. This time, while still a villain, it was a role closer to a major supporting character.

My fingertips traced each character before my gaze drifted upwards to the names of the leads. It was only one line above, yet it felt impossibly high. A hollow laugh escaped me.

“Han Jung-woo, played by… Seon Woo-jung.”

Choi Yoon-hee was renowned for writing scripts with specific actors in mind for each role. Even at the casting stage, she would often jot down the actors’ names next to their parts.

‘Could they have cast him purely for his looks?’ I wondered.

If, as my manager claimed, I had been earmarked for Yoo Seo-jin’s role from the start, then the lead, Han Jung-woo, must have been chosen similarly. The striking fact, however, was that Seon Woo-jung was a complete rookie, having debuted only a year ago.

Rumors in the industry hailed Seon Woo-jung as a comet-like newcomer who appeared out of nowhere, an actor with a perfect face and even more perfect acting skills.

He was once famous as an extra who outshone the leads. It was no surprise, then, that the broadcasting executives, notorious for unearthing hidden gems, wouldn’t miss such an openly shining star.

From supporting roles to leads in a single bound, Seon Woo-jung had achieved unprecedented success. This was all the information I had about him.

‘What a sense of deprivation,’ I thought bitterly.

I had been acting since childhood, so long ago that my earliest memories were hazy, yet a rookie with merely a year under their belt was a lead, and I was just a supporting actor.

While I might not match Seon Woo-jung in looks or star power, my acting was a different matter entirely. I would never lose to a rookie actor who had only been active for a little over a year.

‘Let’s just see how good he really is,’ I decided.

Fueled by a surge of defiance, I put down the script and pulled out my phone from my pocket. A quick search for Seon Woo-jung brought up his standard profile.

I swiped through the screen and found a clip from one of his dramas. After a short advertisement, the final scene of a recently concluded drama began to play.

The female lead’s back was visible, precariously clinging to the edge of a high cliff. Soon, Seon Woo-jung emerged, pushing through the dense undergrowth.

His eyes flickered with anxiety, his breathing was ragged, and even his shoes were missing. His desperate appearance was utterly flawless. For now, at least.

–Jeong-ah!

His voice, expelled with all his might, was thick with terror. The protagonist’s desperate heart, unable to approach his lover clinging to the cliff’s edge for fear she might fall, left him only able to call her name. It resonated with me instantly.

–Please, don’t do this. Please, please, please…!

He tore at his chest, weeping piteously. A profound sense of helplessness, fear, and despair filled his face, knowing his beloved was on the brink of death and he could do nothing.

–Seon-ho…

–Let’s go back. We’ll go to the beach you love, dip our feet in the water, take walks… Let’s just stay together, always.

With a trembling hand outstretched, he took a step toward his lover. His face, etched with despair, now bore a forced smile. To save her, he laughed, and he wept.

–Please, come back to me…

With that fervent plea to his beloved, the clip concluded. I had no choice but to admit it. At some point, I had become utterly engrossed in his acting, completely losing track of time.

Perhaps it was pointless pride, but I was usually stingy with praise, not just for myself but for other actors’ performances as well.

But Seon Woo-jung’s acting… it simply didn’t belong to a rookie who had debuted only a year ago. His expressions, his voice, even his most minor gestures—not a single flaw could be found.

‘Is this what they call a genius?’

Only now could I understand why Choi Yoon-hee had earmarked Seon Woo-jung for the role of Han Jung-woo. Even to me, he seemed the most fitting actor for Han Jung-woo’s part.

Envy transformed into jealousy, and jealousy soon morphed into a sense of challenge. Though our roles weren’t opposite, meaning we wouldn’t share many scenes, I still yearned to face Seon Woo-jung and act alongside him.

‘Let’s do it,’ I resolved.

My hand moved before my thoughts could fully form, typing a message to my manager. After sending the message confirming my desire to appear in , I adjusted my posture and began to read the script meticulously.

It was a thrill I hadn’t felt in a long time.