Despite *The Neighbor Uncle*, Ha-eun's debut film, achieving an impressive box office milestone of 7 million viewers, and her winning the Best New Actress award at the end-of-year awards ceremony, Min Da-yeon hadn’t seen Ha-eun's full acting prowess since the screen test for the role of Kim Ji-ah.
After all, Min Da-yeon was only eleven years old, and *The Neighbor Uncle* was rated for mature audiences, so Da-yeon couldn’t watch the film to see Ha-eun’s performance on the big screen. All she had access to were the brief two-minute trailers.
But unlike a few years ago, when Da-yeon had dismissed Ha-eun as a mere amateur, she now acknowledged Ha-eun as a legitimate actress. She was aware of the hard work Ha-eun put into her craft by attending acting classes, despite already being talented.
Even so, Da-yeon decided to compete against Ha-eun once more because she hadn’t just been idly waiting around. Unlike Ha-eun, who had only filmed a few minor commercials and then taken a break, Da-yeon had gained experience by continuously acting in various dramas and films, which gave her a measure of confidence.
But it was a miscalculation.
**"What is memory? What are moments worth remembering? What… are they?"**
‘…How am I supposed to beat that?’
Watching Ha-eun’s performance first, Da-yeon found herself regretting the decision. Ha-eun embodied Han Yoo-hwa’s character so flawlessly that it made Da-yeon question whether she should even bother watching the others.
As the auditions progressed, with each actor stepping forward, Da-yeon eventually had her own turn. However, among the four finalists, there was no doubt as to who best suited the role of Han Yoo-hwa. This much was clear from the attention both lead actors, Ha Yoon-sung and Yoo Sung-ah, paid solely to Ha-eun.
"It feels like just yesterday when I saw you in *The Neighbor Uncle*. You've grown up a lot, haven’t you?" Ha Yoon-sung commented, admiring Ha-eun in her hanbok attire. At the same time, Yoo Sung-ah muttered that Ha-eun was sure to make a few boys her age cry.
Even though Da-yeon’s fame far exceeded Ha-eun’s, it seemed irrelevant at this moment.
The final audition for young Han Yoo-hwa ended similarly to the previous screen test, leaving Da-yeon with a bitter taste as she walked out of the audition room.
“Hey, Da-yeon. How did the audition go?” her manager, Kim Jin-soo, asked, holding out a strawberry latte, seemingly oblivious to the situation.
Da-yeon knew that he genuinely didn’t mean any harm, so she simply climbed into the car without snapping at him.
Yet, even as she sipped her strawberry latte and reminded herself that she had given her best performance, the memory of Ha-eun’s immersive acting lingered in her mind.
‘…What’s so different about that brat and me? Why is there such a gap between us?’
No matter how much she acknowledged Ha-eun’s talent, she couldn’t shake her curiosity about how Ha-eun had become such a natural at acting. What kind of life had Ha-eun lived that she could act with such depth and authenticity? How had the gap between them grown so wide?
For the past four years, Da-yeon had tried to uncover the secret behind Ha-eun’s acting skills. She had hoped that if she discovered Ha-eun’s unique approach, she could replicate it in her own performances.
But the more time she spent with Ha-eun, the more she realized that Ha-eun was, at her core, just a normal girl with above-average looks.
Eventually, Da-yeon began to wonder if she had overestimated Ha-eun when she was seven years old and foolishly thought she might surpass her in this audition.
However, Da-yeon’s pride prevented her from simply accepting it as a difference in talent. After all, she had always been praised for her own talent.
Back at home, lying on her soft mattress, Da-yeon thought to herself:
‘…This is it, the last time. From now on, I won’t obsess over that brat. I won’t…’
Determined to truly understand Ha-eun, she resolved to study her as if analyzing a character in a script.
---
“Let me follow you around 24/7… will you let me do that?”
“Huh? Why…?” Ha-eun asked, surprised by Da-yeon’s slightly embarrassed yet determined request.
It wasn’t an impossible request, after all. They weren’t doing anything that required secrecy.
Additionally, Da-yeon hinted that if Ha-eun refused, she’d no longer concern herself with Ha-eun (and her acting). This alarmed Ha-eun, who mistook it as Da-yeon’s intent to end their friendship.
Although Ha-eun didn’t mind Da-yeon tagging along during her daily workouts, she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to bring her along to acting and singing lessons, as Da-yeon was from a different agency.
“…I’ll let you know tomorrow. I need to check something first.”
“Fine.”
Ha-eun reached out to her acting school and her singing instructor, Double Lee, to see if it was okay for Da-yeon to accompany her. To her surprise, both parties responded positively.
**[“If it’s Min Da-yeon, the child actress, by all means, bring her! We’d be delighted to have her.”]**
**[“Oh, you’re friends with Min Da-yeon? I’ve been wanting to meet her. Bring her along!”]**
Realizing Da-yeon’s reputation was even more impressive than she had imagined, Ha-eun was grateful for their warm response.
However, when she asked her mom if Da-yeon could stay over at their house, Na-yeon teased,
“Our daughter’s first friend is Min Da-yeon, huh? Aren’t your standards for friends a bit high?”
Having taken her mother’s words to heart since her first day of kindergarten—about making as many friends as possible—Ha-eun replied,
“…I have plenty of friends, Mom.”
For the first time in her eleven years, Ha-eun found herself arguing back. While she might not have friends with whom she shared all her secrets, she was confident in her friendships and felt she was well-connected.
“Sure, Ha-eun. I don’t mean friends you just know by name. I mean a ‘real’ friend—one you’d want to have a sleepover with in your room.”
At that, Ha-eun had to concede. For some reason, only Da-yeon came to mind as a ‘real’ friend.
In any case, she was able to grant Da-yeon’s odd request. The next day, she met with Da-yeon and shared the news that everyone had given their approval. Da-yeon simply nodded, as if unfazed, and they spent the day together after school.
They boarded the van together, surprising their driver, Joo Jung-yoon, who wasn’t expecting Da-yeon to join them.
Thus, from acting school to Double Lee’s studio, and even to the local training ground where Ha-eun often exercised, the two were inseparable. When they finally arrived home, Na-yeon warmly greeted Da-yeon.
"Hi, Da-yeon~"
"Oh, hello."
Everything was fine—until what happened next.
“Well, I’m going to take a shower. You can read a book in my room or—”
“I’ll join you! I sweated a lot following you around.”
Only then did Ha-eun realize that Da-yeon’s request to “follow her around” truly meant staying by her side at all times.
Before long, Na-yeon, who had overheard their conversation, intervened.
-Shhhhhh...
“…”
And that was how Ha-eun and Da-yeon found themselves soaking in the bathtub together. It wasn’t too strange, strictly speaking, but...
‘…What is that… Are those… abs?’
From Da-yeon’s perspective, the faint outline of a toned core on Ha-eun’s belly—something she’d only ever seen in adult models’ photoshoots—caught her attention. Compelled, she reached out and poked Ha-eun’s firm stomach.
“…What are you doing…?”
With a mix of bewilderment and embarrassment, Ha-eun’s blinking gaze met Da-yeon’s, who was at a loss for words.