On their way to Gil Da-hyun’s house, Seoyeon noticed that Da-hyun was observing her closely. Her expression seemed to ask, Why do you want to study with me?

Seoyeon didn’t really have a good answer for that.

I just don’t have anyone else to study with.

How pathetic. Jiyeon was busy preparing for auditions, and studying with Jo Seohui felt like a loss, given their rivalry. Seohui’s competitive spirit had rubbed off on Seoyeon, making her hyper-aware of their dynamic.

And as for Park Jungwoo?

“If a female actress invites a male actor to study, it’ll cause a scandal.”

That would be his response for sure. So, Seoyeon was left with her classmates. Among them, Gil Da-hyun, who reminded Seoyeon of the characters in Heaven’s Garden, seemed like the best option.

They had even spoken before.

“Are you sure you don’t want to invite others to study with us?” Da-hyun asked.

“No.”

Da-hyun seemed to want to study in a group, but Seoyeon refused.

My study skills would be exposed.

Even though Da-hyun seemed trustworthy, Seoyeon didn’t want to take chances. And so, they ended up studying alone at Da-hyun’s house.

“Oh, you’re doing this because of your drama role?” Da-hyun finally understood after they arrived.

For the drama. To study hard… Because she’s a student? Isn’t that just normal?

That thought crossed Da-hyun’s mind, but Seoyeon looked so serious that Da-hyun decided to drop it. Maybe this was a different kind of studying.

Besides, Seoyeon looks like the type who would excel at studying.

Da-hyun had never asked Seoyeon about her grades, but there was something about her demeanor that suggested she was a model student. Seoyeon was always attentive during class, never dozing off, and her posture was perfect, like a student straight out of a picture.

And her notes? Da-hyun had caught a glimpse of them once. They were immaculate, written with various colored pens.

Maybe she just enjoys organizing things, Da-hyun had thought at the time.

But those assumptions were shattered when they started studying together.

“You don’t know this one?”

“…No.”

“And this?”

“Uh…”

Seoyeon studied the questions seriously, but Da-hyun was shocked.

She barely knows any of this!

In hindsight, it made sense. Seoyeon missed a lot of classes due to her schedule. But still, her image had created certain expectations.

“Well, at least you have good memorization skills,” Da-hyun remarked.

“Yeah.”

That was a given. As an actress, Seoyeon rarely forgot her lines, which made her memory sharp.

Then how is her academic performance so poor?

Da-hyun wondered but didn’t say anything. Seoyeon, sensing Da-hyun’s thoughts, glanced away and said sheepishly, “Studying is about learning, right?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” Da-hyun quickly agreed, although from her perspective as a top student, she found Seoyeon’s situation baffling. Still, Seoyeon’s dedication to her acting was undeniable, and Da-hyun respected that.

“This problem is from middle school material.”

“….”

“You should know this at least, right?”

Da-hyun’s eyes silently asked, Didn’t you learn this before becoming an actress? Seoyeon, feeling cornered, avoided her gaze. Sure, studying is about learning, but come on, there’s a limit to what you can not know…

Under Da-hyun’s silent judgment, Seoyeon resigned herself to diligently taking notes, feeling like a scolded puppy.

Hours passed as they studied. After what Da-hyun considered a warm-up session, she casually remarked, “You’re good at sports too, right?”

Seoyeon, who now looked pale from hours of studying, nodded. Of course, she was good at sports.

No, not just good—her physical abilities were almost abnormal, having developed to an extraordinary level. In fact, even Seoyeon wasn’t sure of the full extent of her physical prowess.

“You should join a sports club. It’ll help your school record.”

Though being an actress made that somewhat irrelevant, Da-hyun suggested it for the experience.

“I’m already in a club.”

An esports club.

“Oh, I knew it! Of course!” Da-hyun nodded enthusiastically, without realizing the exact nature of Seoyeon’s club activities. Meanwhile, Seoyeon chose not to clarify. Her gaming skills, especially in League of Legends, were enough to earn her a spot in the club, though lately, she had grown tired of it.

I wonder how people can play the same game for so long…

Lately, she had been eyeing FPS games, which were gaining popularity. Given her physical abilities, she thought she might excel at them.

“So, Da-hyun… do you play games?”

“Huh? Games?” Da-hyun’s eyes widened.

Seoyeon had almost called her by her first name, but quickly corrected herself. It’s better to ease into it, rather than being too familiar too quickly.

Seoyeon, 17 years old, was a person who understood the importance of social boundaries. Definitely not because she felt awkward.

Why did the conversation shift from sports to games?

Da-hyun wondered but didn’t dwell on it. She was more curious about whether Seoyeon actually liked games.

“I’ve never really played any. I’m too busy studying.”

Da-hyun shook her head. She was always focused on her studies. Her only hobbies were watching movies or dramas, which she considered the minimum amount of leisure time.

Hearing Da-hyun’s explanation, Seoyeon thought about the characters from Heaven’s Garden again.

Lonely, huh?

Among the people she knew, Gil Da-hyun most closely resembled the students from Heaven’s Garden.
In contrast, Jo Seohui was more like the parents of the upper-class students in the drama.

Seoyeon’s decision to study with Da-hyun was partly influenced by the parallels she saw between Da-hyun and the characters in the drama. It was an opportunity to study and improve her acting—a win-win.

But it’s different.

Gil Da-hyun wasn’t like the characters from Heaven’s Garden.

“You could’ve gone to a better school if you were focused on academics, right? But this one is close to home.”

Da-hyun explained that she had two younger siblings, and since her parents both worked late, she had to take care of them. That’s why she had chosen a high school nearby.

“And you’ve been an actress since you were little, right?”
“Yeah, I took a break for a while, though.”
“That’s amazing. I’m still trying to figure things out, but you’ve already achieved your dream.”

For Da-hyun, that was hard to grasp. She was still uncertain about what her future held, and that uncertainty drove her to study diligently, hoping to quell her fears.

In contrast, Seoyeon appeared to be someone who was already pursuing her dreams.

Um…

Being an actress was definitely one of her dreams. But Seoyeon had another goal, one she found hard to share with someone as earnest as Da-hyun.

Technically, she could chase that other dream now, just like Jiyeon. But Seoyeon was still hesitating.

She wasn’t the type of person who could balance multiple pursuits at once. Having just returned to acting, she wasn’t confident she could handle another venture.

That’s why she was hesitating. She wanted to be careful with something she truly loved.

“You’re amazing too, Da-hyun.”
“Huh? Oh, thanks…”

Seoyeon meant it sincerely. And through Da-hyun, she had gained more insight into her character, Lee Yuju, from Heaven’s Garden.

Yuju and Da-hyun weren’t similar characters, apart from their shared diligence in studying. But there was one key difference.

Dreams.

Da-hyun hadn’t figured out what she wanted to do yet.
But Yuju had never considered anything beyond the path laid out by her parents.

That was a significant difference.

Da-hyun had always made her own choices—whether it was studying hard or attending Yeonhwa High School.

Everything she did was a result of her own decisions. And her uncertainty about the future stemmed from the fact that her future was entirely up to her.

But Yuju was the opposite.

Everything Yuju did—studying hard, entering Taeyang High School—was dictated by her parents. Yet they never told her what she should aspire to be.

They offered her possibilities: You could be a doctor, a lawyer, a successful tutor, or maybe a coordinator like us.

But none of those options appealed to Yuju. Having studied mechanically for so long, even her exceptional talent was stifled by indecision.

That’s why Yuju’s hatred wasn’t just directed at others.

It was self-hatred.

She hated herself for being too much of a coward to make her own choices, for blaming her parents’ education when she couldn’t even decide what she wanted for herself.

And Seoyeon had gained that insight through her time with Da-hyun.

Da-hyun’s actions were motivated by a desire for a fulfilling future. She wanted to avoid looking back at her school days and regretting a life filled only with studying.

Yuju, however, would look back and find nothing but a life filled with cold, mechanical tasks.

Empathy, huh?

It was hard. Seoyeon sighed. She found it difficult to truly empathize with Yuju.

As much as it might sound arrogant, Seoyeon liked herself.
She had a solid foundation: I’m pretty, aren’t I?

Though a bit shy at times, she liked what she did, and she liked the life she was living. She enjoyed acting, had dreams of future roles, variety shows, and even VTubing. There was so much she wanted to do, and she liked that about herself.

Perhaps it was because she had lacked so much in her previous life that she cherished her current self all the more.

But for someone like Seoyeon, who was so positive about herself, Yuju was an even more challenging character to play than Cha Seoa, the killer from her previous life.

She could relate to Seoa through her past experiences, but Yuju...

“...I think I understand now.”
“Understand what?”

Seoyeon mumbled after a moment of reflection, and Da-hyun looked at her curiously.

Seoyeon raised her head and smiled.
She had learned a lot today.

The first day of shooting for Heaven’s Garden.
On a day when autumn felt as hot as summer.

“Feels like fall is disappearing.”
“They say it’s going to get hotter every year.”
“Ah…”

Such casual conversations were heard on set, but they were really just a way to ease the underlying tension.

“We already have so much to worry about…”
“Yeah, it would help if things were easier on the inside too.”

The staff exchanged glances at writer Min Se-hee, who sat quietly in a corner. They weren’t blaming her, not directly.

Usually, all you had to worry about was competing with dramas airing on other networks at the same time. That was stressful enough.

But this time, company politics were involved as well.

Drama Division 1 and Drama Division 2. The divisions hadn’t been officially finalized yet, but this was essentially their first battle.

Both dramas had been allocated prime-time slots, so it was a direct fight for ratings.

Whoever lost this initial skirmish could very well be headed for extinction.

If one show drastically underperforms…
One division could end up getting shut down.

The idea of splitting the drama division into two for the sake of “competition” seemed absurd, but the reasoning made sense.

For too long, KMB’s drama department had failed to produce a hit.

The previous head of the department had stepped down.
The new head had botched several shows.

Within just two years, they were ousted, and Ha Tae-o took over last year. He had managed to scrape by with decent results, but it wasn’t enough.
And so, they had arrived at this situation.

Of course, this is all just the official story.
Some say it’s really just to create a spot for Baek Tae-soo PD.

The staff grumbled.

If Baek Tae-soo, who had been maneuvering behind the scenes, was stepping into the spotlight, it was hard to predict what would happen next.

And all of that pressure…

“...”

...weighed heavily on writer Min Se-hee.

What am I going to do?

Normally, writers didn’t show up on set.

But today, she had come in person.
This was the first day of filming for a drama she had meticulously planned from start to finish.

Maybe I’m pushing too hard.

Min Se-hee felt afraid.
This script was intensely personal, filled with her own thoughts and ideas.

There was minimal romance, just as she wanted.
She had carried over the script she originally wrote for a cable network.

For Min Se-hee, who was essentially a rookie, the pressure was overwhelming.

If this drama fails…

Even if it wasn’t entirely her fault, she would undoubtedly shoulder much of the blame.
Would she be able to continue working at KMB?
Would other networks even consider hiring her?

In the end, was she really just meant to be a cable writer?

“Writer Min Se-hee.”

At that moment…

“Hello.”

A girl bowed respectfully before her.

As always, her manners were impeccable.

With jet-black hair and porcelain skin, she was stunningly beautiful today.

Instead of her usual Yeonhwa High School uniform, she wore the "Taeyang High School uniform," instantly evoking the image of her character, Lee Yuju.

Oh?

Min Se-hee noticed something different.
There was something off about her today.

Usually, when Seoyeon started acting, her whole aura would shift.
But today was different.

Had Seoyeon noticed Min Se-hee’s stare? She glanced over at the writer and smiled.

“It’s a bit tough, so I went to study.”
Her tone was different from usual—slightly colder.

“I learned the solution.”