Chapter 17 Debut? (4)

Script Reading

It is the process of reading the script with other actors to synchronize before the actual filming begins.

There are several rounds of script readings up to the final one.

Currently, this is the very first session and a meeting with the other actors for the first time.

“Hello.”

This session is mostly for main characters playing student roles.

Even so, most of the participants are adult actors.

Among them, I was the only actual middle schooler.

“Oh, nice to meet you. You’re playing the role of Uriel, right?”

The first person to greet me was Kang Haon, a male actor.

In this drama, The Heirs, he plays the role of the student council president, and his impression was as good-natured as his character.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Siyeon.”

Before coming here, I’d received countless reminders from Chaeyoung.

Apparently, as a rookie, it’s crucial to greet everyone loudly and confidently.

It seemed that the acting world was quite hierarchical.

Of course, that didn’t bother me.

If we’re talking about hierarchy, the assassin school I attended was far stricter.

And after witnessing the political struggles of the royal court, this was nothing.

“Um… I brought some coffee and snacks. May I offer them to the seniors?”

Here, I was in the youngest position.

And as a young middle school girl, being seen as shy yet capable and possessing a good sense of decorum for my age was ideal.

“Oh, I was just feeling thirsty. Thanks! I’m Lee Minwoo, playing Kim Tak in this drama.”

“Pleased to meet you!”

It seemed my strategy worked, as the lead actor Lee Minwoo smiled and picked up a coffee.

Lee Minwoo was already a famous actor who gained popularity as the lead in the previous drama, Flower Over Flowers.

From my prior research, I learned he has a polite personality but also subtle old-school tendencies.

It’s best not to do anything that might bother him.

“Can I have one too? Oh, there’s chocolate!”

Next, the lead actress Park Siha approached and took a coffee as well.

She also showed interest in the sweet snacks like chocolate cookies.

She was quite close to the lead actor Lee Minwoo and had a kind personality.

If I acted reasonably, she’d likely view me favorably.

Kang Haon, along with these two, were said to be alumni of the same theater and film program.

Other actors and staff also helped themselves to the coffee and snacks.

I mentally reviewed my research and acted accordingly.

The production hadn’t started yet, but my performance had already begun.

Wherever I am, my mission is to perform perfectly. That’s who I am—Nameless.

‘Dongsoo might be a valuable information source and advisor in the future.’

In truth, most of the information I had was gathered by Dongsoo.

Chaeyoung helped me with the basics of acting, but Dongsoo handled the details about how to deal with individual actors, the atmosphere of the broadcasting station, and the preferences of the director.

He must have used his exceptional computer skills for this, despite his lack of physical strength.

He was perfect as an intelligence agent.

The greetings proceeded smoothly.

However, one person neither took the coffee nor acknowledged my greeting.

It was Yuna, the person I had auditioned alongside.

She sat with her arms crossed, flipping through the script at her seat.

The nameplate in front of her read “Kang Yesul.”

Ah, I see.

She must have been cast for a different role after failing to get Uriel’s part.

If I recall, Kang Yesul’s character is the daughter of a Gangnam lounge owner and an aspiring actress.

While all roles are important, hers was relatively minor.

Step, step, step—

I slowly walked toward her with the last coffee in hand.

My steps across the center of the reading room drew everyone’s attention.

Even Yuna, who had been deliberately avoiding eye contact, looked up at me.

“I’m Kim Siyeon, playing Uriel. I brought coffee, so please enjoy it, senior.”

I placed the coffee in front of her and smiled.

My actions froze the atmosphere in the room.

If I were an ordinary middle schooler, I might have panicked, thinking, “What did I do wrong?”

But I am Nameless. I don’t tolerate such awkward situations.

The student actors gathered here were all connected in some way.

This meant everyone was aware of how Yuna felt about losing the role to me.

In other words, everyone knew she disliked me.

Yuna glared at me.

Despite knowing this, I approached her first to gauge her reaction.

Since it was already confirmed we’d work together, there was no need to make enemies.

It was like executing a mission alongside teammates.

Maintaining good relationships was essential for a successful operation.

But if she rejected my goodwill…

“No, thanks. I already had some earlier.”

Such a person would be no better than a hindrance on a mission.

In fact, they’d be worse than an enemy.

An unhelpful ally is more dangerous than an opponent.

“…Understood.”

I took the coffee back and returned to my seat.

The room’s atmosphere chilled in an instant.

Sensing the tension, the director soon began the script reading.

“The arrival of Lucifer in the school of devils… Things are about to get interesting, hehe…”

The script reading started with Kang Haon delivering his lines as Lee Hyo-soo.

Although the line was quite serious, Kang Haon delivered it naturally without awkwardness.

Even I might have struggled with such a line, but it was clear that Kang Haon’s talent was anything but ordinary.

‘So many cringy… I mean, unique lines here.’

The script by writer Kang Eungsook was filled with unexpected dialogues.

There were lines that made time and space curl up—phrases that even my past self wouldn’t have dared to utter.

But for some reason, the people of this world seemed to enjoy them.

It was reminiscent of the sentimental novels that the Northern Duke had loved in my previous life.

“Uriel. Isn’t she hilarious? Her fiancé got stolen by Gikyun, she always shows up to school in weird shoes…”

Toward the end of the script reading, it was time for the confrontation scene between Kang Yesul and Uriel.

The character Kang Yesul, played by Yuna, was someone who had a bad relationship with Uriel.

Uriel treated Kang Yesul like a bug, and Kang Yesul openly displayed her hostility in return.

In the story, Kang Yesul spreads lies about her family running a water business.

Most students at the Imperial High School, being children of conglomerates, mistakenly think it’s a bottled water company.

But Uriel learns that “water business” is actually a euphemism for nightlife operations and begins to despise Kang Yesul.

The scene we were reading was where Uriel overhears Kang Yesul badmouthing her and exposes her secret.

“Her mom got divorced too, didn’t she? No luck with men, that family…”

“Hey. Kang Yesul.”

I interrupted Kang Yesul’s line a beat earlier than the script indicated, cutting her off.

Without looking at the script, I fixed my gaze solely on Yuina, who played Kang Yesul.

I had already memorized the script.

And for someone who dared to position themselves as my enemy, I would crush them thoroughly from the start.

“What, what? Uriel?”

Whether genuinely startled or acting, Yuna’s reaction was incredibly realistic.

“What did you just say?”

“What, what? I didn’t say anything!”

“I heard it all. What about my mom? And as for Kim Tak, I’m only letting him be. He’s mine anyway.”

“Hah! Kim Tak obviously likes Cha Eunseo. Everyone knows that. And you, you’re the one who had your fiancé stolen by Gikyun. The whole school knows about it!”

At this point in the script, Uriel grabs Kang Yesul’s hair.

Of course, no real action takes place during a script reading.

Instead, I discreetly tugged at a thread I had tied earlier to my finger.

“Ack, ahhh!”

It was a thread I had connected to Yuna’s hair when I approached her with coffee earlier.

Yuna twisted her head as if someone had really grabbed her hair and continued her passionate performance.

Naturally, it was because I had actually pulled the thread to simulate the action.

“Your mom is trash. A prostitute running a bar in Gangnam. And yet, she’s been fooling everyone all this time?”

“Wh-what…”

“Are you planning to end up just like your mother?”

“……! Agh! Aaaaaah—!”

Yuna screamed, flailing her head as if truly in agony.

Yet even amidst her struggles, she didn’t forget her lines—a true actor, indeed.

“Well done,” the director said.

I released the thread.

Yuna looked around, clearly unsure of what had just happened.

I calmly looked down at my script with a neutral expression.

Then, lifting only my eyes, I met Yuna’s gaze.

Her body visibly trembled as our eyes locked.

This was a warning—and the final mercy I would offer.

If she dared to trouble me again, things wouldn’t end this lightly.

However, if she ignores this and continues to cause trouble next time… well, she’ll find out then.
I lowered my gaze again, and shortly after, the script reading came to an end.

“Great job, everyone. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Wow, Siyeon was amazing, wasn’t she? She was cast for a reason.”

“Exactly. She really seems to have extraordinary talent.”

“Hehe, thank you.”

“You’re so cute and pretty. And you’re such a sweet kid. Can I just call you Siyeon?”

“Of course! Please feel free, senior.”

As the reading ended, the actors chatted warmly, laughing with Siyeon.

She had somehow already become close with everyone, who casually complimented her in unison.

Yuna sat off to the side, staring blankly at the scene.

‘What… what is with this kid?’

Every time the script brought a clash between Kang Yesul and Uriel, Siyeon had looked at Yuna as if she wanted to kill her.

Just meeting that gaze and hearing the lines had sent chills down Yuna’s entire body.
And during the scene where her hair was supposed to be grabbed, it had genuinely felt like her hair was being pulled out.

No, she was sure of it—it felt like her hair was being yanked.

But how? There was no one near her actually grabbing her hair.

It was absurd, but could her voice’s intensity alone create such a sensation?

Impossible. She had never seen or experienced such acting before. But that talent…

“Ms. Yuna, you were great today too. Especially earlier—I really thought your hair was being pulled.”

The director’s voice broke through Yuna’s spiraling thoughts as he approached her.

Yuna forced a fake smile and responded to the compliment.

“Thank you. I look forward to working with you more.”

“Likewise.”

Regardless of everything, the day’s results were positive.

Though there were some tense moments when clashing with Siyeon, people seemed to praise those parts even more.

At that moment, Siyeon approached Yuna.

“Thank you for your hard work, senior.”

With the day winding down and people preparing to leave, Siyeon had gone around thanking everyone and now stood before Yuna.

She didn’t lower her head but instead looked Yuna directly in the eyes.

“Th-thank you. You too,” Yuna stammered, unintentionally averting her gaze.

She had intended to brush Siyeon off, but somehow her mouth moved first to respond.

It felt like a sharp winter wind had grazed her neck, leaving it cold.

Swoosh—

Siyeon turned and walked away without hesitation.

Yuna glared at Siyeon’s retreating figure.

‘Was that… did she just ignore me?’

It was clear she had been ignored.

That little brat. Could it be because she didn’t accept the coffee earlier?

Of course, Yuna resented losing the role to Siyeon.

But since it was the first day, she had planned not to show it openly.

Perhaps it had unintentionally slipped out, but Yuna knew she had the power to make Siyeon quit if she wanted to.

‘I was going to let it slide because she’s young. But no, this won’t do.’

A 14-year-old, daring to look down on her?

No matter how young, such arrogance could not be tolerated.

The final script reading would be attended by writer Kang Eungsook herself.

If Siyeon made a mistake in front of the writer, it would completely destroy any trust she had earned.

This wasn’t about jealousy over losing the role.

It was about teaching a rebellious teenager to respect the adult world.

At least, that’s how Yuna justified her thoughts to herself.

‘You picked the wrong person to mess with.’

Without realizing the weight of her decision, Yuna made a resolution she would come to regret.