Chapter 290: Chapter 290

The coals blazed a bright, deep red. Thick cuts of hanwoo sizzled above them, flipping smoothly in the hands of the guest chef.

Every time the flames shot up, Da-yeon flinched, but it wasn’t a big deal. After all, it was part of giving the meat that smoky finish. And besides, her startled reactions made for good footage.

“Here you go, Ha-eun. Your medium steak first.”

Perfectly cooked tenderloin was skillfully cut into bite-sized pieces by the chef’s flashing knife and plated neatly. Soon after, a well-done steak for Da-yeon followed—though Ha-eun still didn't quite understand how anyone could enjoy it that way.

“Now then, let’s get started with the interview.”

“...Why the sudden formal tone?”

“You always use formal speech during interviews.”

And so began the "Actress Min Da-yeon" interview session, laced with Ha-eun’s playful praise.

She introduced Da-yeon as an incredibly prestigious guest—someone known by every household in Korea, no less.

“Min Da-yeon sunbaenim, how’s the steak to your liking?”

“Ah... It’s good, yes.”

Maybe it was because Ha-eun, who had been speaking so casually until now, suddenly addressed her as sunbaenim with utmost respect, but a faintly disgruntled look appeared on Da-yeon's face.

There was just a hint of mischief lingering around Ha-eun—it wasn't her imagination.

“But sunbaenim, why have you been picking out all the asparagus?”

“Asparagus is just there for decoration, isn’t it?”

Ha-eun covered her mouth in mock horror.

Muttering something about “Min Da-yeon, embroiled in controversy,” she made Da-yeon hastily insist it was all just personal taste.

“...You dragged me here just to humiliate me, didn’t you.”

“You’re misunderstanding. I would never play a prank on someone as lofty as you, sunbaenim.”

It felt like seeing Diah in adult form.

The tone was polite—but the words were pure mischief.

“First, let’s hear your thoughts. How do you feel being the third guest on our Lee Ha-eun channel?”

“First was Song Hyun-min. Second was Kang Sun-woo sunbaenim. Third is Min Da-yeon sunbaenim.”

“...What kind of lineup is that?”

Hearing the list, Da-yeon finally understood why Ha-eun’s YouTube channel had exploded in popularity.

It was, bluntly put, a case of sheer star power.

Ha-eun herself was already a big enough draw, but adding a K-pop star and a veteran actor?

Anyone seeing such thumbnails would be unable to resist clicking.

Other struggling YouTubers crushed beneath the weight of the "Ha-eun whale" suddenly felt pitiful.

“But technically, I’ve already appeared once, right? During the Num0 challenge.”

“That doesn’t count. You didn’t say a word. You’re only a guest if you speak.”

“...Your standards are insane.”

Anyway, while enjoying the hanwoo they’d won on My Little Live, they continued the interview.

The next questions were all about what Da-yeon thought of Lee Ha-eun, the person.

“For example, back during the The Guy Next Door screen test... what was your first impression of me?”

“You were insufferable.”

“I was your senior, and yet you just wandered around the set without even greeting me.”

“Well... it seems I was already a problematic kid back then... Never mind.”

Trying to laugh it off awkwardly, Ha-eun moved onto the next question.

Maybe she hadn’t understood how important hierarchy was back then—but she definitely did now.

At least Ha-eun could get away with this kind of teasing;

other people would never dare to be this casual around her.

“Next question. When you spotted me at elementary school, what went through your mind? I remember you even followed me to the bathroom because you weren’t sure it was me.”

“W-Why are you asking something like that?!”

“We have to ask unique questions on the Lee Ha-eun channel! Exclusive coverage!”

Da-yeon fell into brief thought, recalling that faraway memory—When she first glimpsed Ha-eun in a long school hallway, so striking among the crowd she had to double-check by peeking into the bathroom.

Back then, she just looked different.

And once she confirmed it was Ha-eun, she snapped at her for disappearing all this time.

Even though she scolded her, what she really remembered — was that tiny hand suddenly grabbing hers, a small voice saying—

‘There! We shook hands, so now we’re friends!’

That cheeky, dazzling smile had left Da-yeon completely speechless.

Even now, the absurd thought crept back: ‘God, she was way too pretty.’

“...You were pretty.”

“Huh? What was that?”

“N-Nothing! Just... you looked exactly the same back then...Always making the senior go up and talk first...”

“So Min Da-yeon sunbaenim was already a bossy senior even back then, huh?”

“You really have no filter, huh?”

After that, the topic shifted from their school days to their careers.

For instance, the time during Moonlight Divided by the Clouds when Da-yeon actually slapped Ha-eun on camera.

Or when she kicked Ha-eun’s character Yeong-wol into a prison cell.

“You really went all in on that kick. Did you have some grudge against me?”

“W-What are you talking about! I was just trying to act more realistically...”

“Hm. Sure. Let’s go with that for now.”

“...Feels like you’re trying to bury me today.”

“You’re imagining things. Hehe.”

Ha-eun, politely covering her mouth as she laughed, gave Da-yeon goosebumps.

Right now, this was definitely Diah mode, not Ha-eun.

Finally, after touching on their cameo appearances in Veterans and promoting Parasite Family, they wrapped up the outdoor barbecue shoot.

“Now that we’re full—let’s go watch the movie, shall we?”

Somehow, Ha-eun had slipped on a pair of those old-fashioned 3D glasses—one lens blue, one red—and tugged Da-yeon along toward the studio set.

‘She’s really committed to the bit, huh...’

Dragged along, Da-yeon thought—Ha-eun’s whole obsession with the 3D glasses was just for the sake of a good YouTube thumbnail.

Then they settled into a mini-theater setup to watch The Guy Next Door.

The set was high-quality enough to pass for a major network variety show.

｢I'm not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either.

it just reminded me that you’re still alone. That's all.｣

｢Sorry... for making you worry. It won’t happen again.｣

‘How the hell does a seven-year-old manage expressions like that...’

Soon, Da-yeon found herself entirely absorbed in the movie.

Partly, she wanted to judge if kid Ha-eun’s acting really had been as insane as everyone said. Read full story at 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵※𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮※𝓷𝓮𝓽

And then—the heartbreaking scene where Kim Jia (young Ha-eun) parts from Jin Kang-sik (Kang Sun-woo) and walks home alone.

｢...You think I'm pathetic too, don't you?｣

"Stop exaggerating and get up. Where did you hide my money!!"

"...As if someone drowning in debt has money to hide."

"Y-You, what did you just say... Fine! Kim Jia, you're going to regret being born today!!"

A scene where Kim Jia, the young protagonist, is abused physically and emotionally by her biological mother, Seo Do-yeon.

Time passes, and the next morning:

"What the... Who did this to you!"

The moment Jin Kang-sik notices the bruises on Kim Jia, his eyes visibly tremble.

"Yes, I'm fine. No matter what, she's still my mother. She wouldn't go so far as to actually kill me."

"...Why say that now? You knew it all along too, didn’t you?"

This scene... right, this was the one.

It was the very scene where, long ago, Da-yeon had first felt shocked by Ha-eun's acting.

The trembling voice, the way her head tilted slightly toward Jin Kang-sik, the faint, broken smile on her scarred lips—

"Anyway, it’s not like anything’s broken. I can still go to school."

"I’m really okay. So...please don’t look at me like that. When you do, it really makes me feel like I’m pathetic."

Not for one second could Da-yeon tear her eyes away.

Even when trying to scrutinize for small mistakes, it only ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) made the impact stronger.

There was nothing to criticize.

'...What a terrifying kid.'

Truly terrifying, as an actress.

It reaffirmed something Da-yeon had unconsciously known since Ha-eun was seven years old.

"Ah, Mister... I missed you..."

"...I'm sorry. I came too late."

Near the end of The Guy Next Door, soft sobs could be heard right beside Ha-eun.

Turning her head slightly, she found Da-yeon, eyes shimmering red.

“...Hey, why are you crying?”

Da-yeon quickly wiped her eyes.

Ha-eun chuckled and pretended not to notice.

After the movie ended—after Da-yeon's voice, still trembling, gave a shaky but honest evaluation—

“Rock-paper-scissors. Let’s go.”

Suddenly, she challenged Ha-eun to rock-paper-scissors, like a rekindled competitive spirit had ignited after watching the film.

Without caring much about the outcome, Ha-eun casually threw out scissors.

Usually, Ha-eun always won the first round.

But immediately after—

Ha-eun began pressing Da-yeon's fist from above and below with her scissors!

Da-yeon’s hand slowly morphed from a fist to paper.

“...My scissors beat your rock.”

It was sheer, shameless bullying. They had agreed: keep playing until Ha-eun wins—but here she was, forcibly winning through brute strength.

And the tyranny didn’t end there.

Cradling her aching hand, Da-yeon was shamelessly presented with a "winner's request."

“Since you lost, you owe me a favor.”

“It’s something good for you, too.”

Last year, Ha-eun had volunteered to deliver coal briquettes and promised to return.

Tomorrow, she would go again—with Jang Seong-ho.

And she wanted Da-yeon to join.

“You should come too.”

In the end, Da-yeon agreed.

Helping out with charity work wasn’t a bad thing—even if the reason she agreed was mostly because it was Ha-eun asking.

However, the next day—

Wearing white cotton gloves, carrying three or four briquettes at once like it was nothing, Ha-eun completely stunned Da-yeon.

“Hello, sir! I was here last year, remember me?”

“Whoa, the scary girl is back.”

“I had no idea such a pretty girl could fight like that. You were slicing people up like they were cabbage!”

Da-yeon barely held in her laughter. Inside the old man’s home was a photo of him with Ha-eun—and a poster of Veterans.

“She’s scary, alright. Throws sharks around, too. Look at this!”

“Whoa, she’s really tossing a shark here! Good heavens...”