The story of a woman with terrifying yellow eyes.
Four years ago,
On the morning of December 21, 2021, the set was silent at four in the morning.
All eyes on the quiet set were focused on a woman who was gently exhaling.
Her sharp eyes were a bright yellow, like those of a beast. Her jet-black hair cascaded down to her chest.
“Whoo… It’s finally over…”
“Just as expected.”
“Ugh. That’s creepy.”
Although it had been some time since the acting had finished, the staff were still caught in the lingering atmosphere of the performance.
The soft sunlight poured down her black hair, and her golden eyes burned brightly in the remaining darkness of the night.
“Ugh. Suhyun-ssi, your acting is perfect as always. Great job.”
A hearty voice came from the front of the woman.
The director, walking with strides of 65-70 cm, approached.
The director, about 175 cm tall, was not much different in height from the woman standing in front of him.
The woman looked at him.
The director’s tone, breathing, and the movement of his gaze were all broken down into the single act of “looking.”
His tone tried to sound light but contained a certain tightness.
Although the sentence wasn’t long, the tension implied that the director was trying not to be noticed by the woman.
His breathing was heavy.
The woman knew that he had been sitting at the set for hours, just watching without much movement.
His breath was ragged and suppressed, as if he was desperately choosing to hide it.
And his gaze.
He tried hard to hold his gaze in place, but from time to time, his eyes would unpleasantly scan her body.
From her upper body down to her lower body, and then pausing for a moment, they returned to her upper body.
Three unpleasant elements.
She muttered under her breath and smirked.
Ah, what if there weren’t three unpleasant elements?
What if there were two, four, five, or just one?
She would have probably struck the director’s jaw right there.
She had an abnormal obsession with the number three.
She matched the number of monitors in her house or the pillows on her bed.
She even kept her toothbrushes in her one-person apartment to exactly three.
Even the piercings she would eventually get would be three on each ear, although she didn’t know it yet.
She loved three that much.
However, she hadn’t expected the suffocating disgust to be the third one.
The woman cursed inwardly.
“Director, you worked hard too. The shoot must have been exhausting, right?”
She smiled and answered as briefly as possible.
Her acting didn’t end just because the shoot was over.
She answered with a smile, but her eyes were dead.
Without giving the director a chance to add more, she turned and started walking.
She felt his sharp gaze behind her but paid it no mind.
Life is an extension of acting.
That sentence lingered in her mind.
It felt like she had walked for a long time, but her home still wasn’t in sight.
Although her home wasn’t visible… it was fortunate that the smoking room was.
The smoking room at dawn felt even more eerie than usual. Perhaps it was because the usual symbol-like stench was gone.
Tap. Tap. Sizzle.
In the smoking room, where no one else was, a brief flash flickered.
Soon, the weak light shone faintly, and the pungent smoke rose toward the sky.
…
“…Tch.”
She hadn’t even taken a drag yet, but suddenly the cigarette became bothersome.
She flicked the cigarette, which was just catching fire, into the ashtray.
The white stick spun in the air.
The smoke, spiraling in a donut shape, created a dreamy pattern that deeply imprinted itself in her mind.
She quietly watched the fleeting scene and tilted her head slightly.
It disappears so quickly.
It’s 450 won, a waste… but no one’s watching, so I might as well pick it up and smoke it.
As she pondered half-seriously in her head, a familiar voice rang in her ear.
“Hey. … Huh? What are you doing?”
I’m doomed to save money again today.
The woman sighed inwardly and leaned against the smoking room wall.
She didn’t need to raise her head to know who it was. She had heard that voice more days than she hadn’t.
Still, she didn’t want to sever what little remaining connection there was, so she raised her head out of courtesy.
The man, wearing a neat shirt even in the late hours of the morning, looked tidy, but his eyes were heavy with fatigue.
Yoon Byeol-ha.
A man who had once dreamed of being an actor, like the woman, when they were in high school.
The one who recognized her talent and always tried to stop her when she wanted to leave the stage.
The only one who truly understood her darkness.
The woman opened her yellow eyes slightly and responded.
The faint smoke from the cigarette she had lightly bitten escaped slowly.
“I’m thinking about quitting acting… just the same old thoughts.”
A light chuckle mixed with her words.
Her tone was lighter than usual, but the words carried an unknown depth.
Yoon Byeol-ha sighed, as if he were used to it.
Unlike her sigh, his breath didn’t show.
“Your acting skills are genius level. How about reconsidering?”
“How many times do I have to say it? I hate the damn lies.”
“…It’s such a waste of that talent.”
“Agreed.”
The woman looked at Yoon Byeol-ha bitterly.
Her yellow eyes, regardless of her will, relentlessly tried to pry into everything.
“Why are you in a state of ‘not knowing what to do because you want to talk so badly’ right now, Yoon Byeol-ha?”
The woman asked without meeting Yoon Byeol-ha’s gaze.
Even if he tried to pretend he didn’t know, it was evident.
The trembling in him, the corners of his mouth that he was trying to force down, and the tension in his eyes.
In a situation where an average person might lash out, shouting “Why are you reading my thoughts?” and having a fit, Yoon Byeol-ha just chuckled.
“…You’re not going to listen to me anyway. A friend of mine, who’s a YouTuber, said they don’t have an editor.”
“An editor…”
The woman trailed off, her curiosity piqued.
“Yeah, so I was thinking of recommending you since you kept saying you were going to quit acting.”
“Sounds good. An editor.”
After quitting acting, she found a way to survive without starving to death.
For someone like her, who learned quickly in any field, it didn’t seem like much of a problem.
“That’s so like you.”
Yoon Byeol-ha laughed even in the tragic situation of a childhood friend giving up on their dreams.
“What will your nickname be? I know you don’t like your name.”
“Nickname…”
The woman closed her eyes and quietly thought for a moment.
She was planning to just randomly pick something from whatever came to mind.
A brief moment passed, and a scene that had remained in her mind appeared.
A cigarette flying with no reason, leaving a trail of afterimages.
“Contrail. Contrail sounds good.”
It’s so cheap but disappears quickly, just like me.
She added that and smiled brightly.
She would work as an editor for Killog’s Notes, manage LumiLive, and get used to the name Contrail, a name she preferred over one she wanted to forget.
Contrail found herself caught up in an unexpected connection.
“Uh… hello?”
Contrail believed she could recite every detail of that moment, even if she was about to die.
It wasn’t because she had met anyone with a more perfect appearance than Kang Suhyun in the entertainment industry.
It was because the chest that squeezed out from between the rough bandages was so large it made her feel like she had three heads—that, or maybe her obsession with perfection had reacted to it.
But more than that, it was a kindred spirit.
Ah. There was a strong scent of someone who had been hurt somewhere.
Though their personalities had taken very different paths, Contrail was happy to meet a kindred spirit after so long.
It was surprisingly frustrating that Suhyun was so introverted and timid.
No, considering Contrail’s usual personality, maybe it wasn’t just “slightly” frustrating.
Suhyun’s introversion lightly tickled Contrail’s deep desires.
Dark, low desires.
‘I want to see her get angry.’
Contrail wanted to see how Suhyun would change when she got angry—whether she’d turn to rage or resignation.
It was an incomprehensible desire.
Contrail was mentally ill.
Not just having an obsession with the number 3.
There were a lot of long, complicated thoughts in her head that would get dismissed as something typical of a middle schooler if just the diagnosis were mentioned.
But she couldn’t just say it.
Maybe that’s why.
“Suhyun, do you realize that this is actually a pretty good treatment in the industry?”
“Would you be willing to appear on broadcasts regularly? I’m not talking about your ‘agency,’ but more like a ‘debut’.”
She was testing the waters.
She kept poking until the pirate captain popped out.
This treatment is too much for you. If you come out of a place you don’t belong, and humble yourself, I’ll give it to you.
“How would you feel if people were complimenting your drawings live?”
You’re the kind of person who laughs like a fool with a clownish smile at just one compliment.
Yet, Suhyun either smiled or just got entranced.
Contrail was on the verge of disappointment.
At least, for the last time,
If she didn’t get angry after sticking a big, sharp word and making her feel terribly uncomfortable,
She’d just let it go.
Contrail had made a ridiculous plan, even more absurd than those she most despised.
“Ding. I’m your manager.”
She showed up uninvited to an address she was only supposed to visit professionally.
“At this rate, the cleaning can’t proceed.”
She locked the incomplete-looking person in the small bathroom.
Pretending to clean, Contrail’s heart raced.
This would be the final test.
It was the last chance, given mercifully.
She expected to finally see Suhyun’s true face.
“Ugh… h-hhh… Sniff…”
And the result was a failure.
If she had known she was such a weak, ordinary person, she wouldn’t have done this.
Contrail felt the first sense of failure in her plan as she embraced Kang Soo-hyun.
“It was all an act!”
But the way she said it was laughable.
Could that really have been an act? The way she cried, asking for help.
If it had been an act, Contrail would’ve found some way to get her into the entertainment industry.
“Yes. This is an apology…”
Contrail, suppressing a sneer, dropped her business card.
“Eat this and get lost.”
I thought we were kindred spirits, but I was such a fool.
This should satisfy you, right?
“Yoon Byeol-ha?!”
Contrail laughed and added,
“Yes. He’s my friend.”
Is this idiotically pure girl really the end of it? There will be no more private meetings.
Should I call it a relief? To Contrail, who separated business from personal life, Suhyun became just another foreigner—like everyone else.
She was like a doll with whom no personal conversations were had.
Contrail stood up, thinking about taking care of the LumiLive members and moving to a new spot.
“But… Contrail, why me?”
“…What?”
Contrail stopped.
She turned slowly, her eyes mixed with expectation and tension.
Soo-hyun was still smiling brightly. Contrail was disappointed again. Was she just too dumb to understand the reason?
But Suhyun’s eyes weren’t smiling.
They were cold, but certain…
“Why the hell should I fall for your tricks again, you asshole?”
She was angry.