ILHBO C5

In My Next Life, It’s Oscar, Not a Husband
Episode 5

That evening, after returning home, I received a text message.

[Actress Ha Eunrae. You have passed the audition. I’m truly happy that we’ll be working together ^^ I’ll send you the reading schedule and filming schedule soon.

Before that, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. For scheduling matters, you can coordinate with the staff member you met earlier.]

Since when had a film director been this kind to me…?

It was probably the first time since that damn “investor controversy” scandal.

I felt a strange emotion as I opened the wiki window that had popped up earlier.

<Living with a Ghost>

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Horror
Director/Screenwriter: Jegal Se-yeon
Starring: Ha Eunrae, Seo Kyungbin

It had changed.

My name now shone after being revised.

There were other changes too.

Filming period and production details seemed the same… but—

Awards: Under revision…
Audience count: Under revision…

Awards?

I swallowed hard.

Was I influencing this work and causing changes?

And those changes… could it be that this low-budget film—which originally wouldn’t even be invited to a film festival—might end up winning an award somewhere?

Just thinking about it made my heart feel like it was going to burst out of my chest.

Honestly, I had my own dissatisfaction with my debut film.

It was a highly commercial project.

It was a box office success, but it was also controversial for being excessively violent and containing many scenes where actresses had to undress.

Of course, I was grateful just to have debuted—but I had once wondered, what if my debut hadn’t been with something like that?

“Then in this life, I’ll debut with a Jegal Se-yeon project.”

It was an independent film, but I even had a leading role.

My career—my life—was clearly changing.

I even wanted to search my own name in the wiki, but that seemed impossible.

[0 “search credits” remaining.]

Search credits.

Based on the many regression-story tropes I knew, that was clearly a “foreshadowing item.”

It probably gets rewarded when achievements are made.

But—

“I still don’t know what it is right now.”

And there was something more urgent in front of me.

[Actor Ha Eunrae. Sending you the revised script for <Living with a Ghost>. The script will likely be further revised after page 42 by the director, but I’m sending it for now.]

[<Living with a Ghost>.pdf]

It was a message from Park Seowoo.

I recalled his changed wiki.

Without “search credits,” it seemed I could only see wiki changes when my actions directly affected things…

“And it seems I can only see it when the change is very direct. I still can’t even see my own wiki.”

Did my acting video really influence Park Seowoo enough to create such a direct change?

That thought made me feel oddly pleased.

Of course, Park Seowoo as a person was still unpleasant—but as a director, his approval meant a huge deal for me as an actress.

We’re talking about a director who might one day win an Oscar.

‘And he’ll remember me even when he gives interviews later.’

A smile crept onto my lips.

And just as I was grinning to myself—

“Ha Eunrae, what’s this? Who are you texting that you’re smiling like that nonstop? Let me see. Unnie will check.”

A hand suddenly reached for my phone playfully.

My housemate—Yeoreum.

For reference, this was 21-year-old Ha Eunrae’s “refuge.”

This was the place I ended up in after working part-time at a grilled meat restaurant to save up tuition money because I couldn’t afford college—only for my father to drain everything away that very day.

Completely losing it, I wrecked the house and left with only my phone.

Then I made a call.

“…Hello?”

“….”

A friend I had been close with until high school.

Kang Yeoreum, who got into a Seoul-based two-year fashion design program, and whom I couldn’t contact afterward due to some strange inferiority complex.

I couldn’t even say a word properly—but Yeoreum suddenly gave me her address and told me to come to her studio apartment.

And from that day on, we started living together.

‘Thinking about it now, I was really shameless.’

Back then, I was too young to realize how much I was relying on her.

Well… not just that.

Even after the “investor controversy,” when I suddenly decided to get married, I ignored Yeoreum’s advice.

“It might not be a good idea to get married when you’re this exhausted. You should at least observe what Do-un is like a bit more… and just because you get married doesn’t mean you have to retire…”

“Do-un is a good person. I’ll properly introduce him to you next time.”

At my words, Yeoreum shut her mouth.

She probably had nothing to say to my obviously unbalanced state of mind.

After the scandal, I had disappeared and then suddenly reappeared announcing my marriage—it must have been absurd for her.

Of course, even after I got married, we still occasionally contacted each other, but it didn’t feel like we were close friends anymore.

There were also some conflicts.

Yeoreum had fallen into debt after her ambitious online shopping mall project failed, and I tried to help pay it off, which only made her cut me off almost completely.

“Do you think I’m pathetic?”

Thinking about it now, I had been careless in so many ways.

Kang Yeoreum had always supported me silently whenever I struggled.

And I had failed to be that kind of friend in return.

Determined to change this time, I held out my phone screen toward her.

“Huh…? I thought it was a guy. Well, it is a guy… what is this? Did you get another script? Someone asking you to act in another short film?”

Yeoreum asked, slightly disappointed.

“This time it’s different. I’m getting paid, and there’s an official contract.”

Once money starts coming in, I’ll properly pay Yeoreum rent too.

Seriously… 21-year-old me, how could I be so shameless?

“What? So you’re really becoming an actress? I thought you weren’t interested in acting. You even rejected agency business cards before.”

Ah.

Agency business cards.

Right.

I remembered receiving a large agency card while walking down the street around this time.

An unforgettable name.

Kanna.

My first agency—and my last.

It also left me with unforgettable memories.

Later, after I got married, my former manager Jongho oppa came to see me and said this:

“That was when your contract was about to expire… The CEO instructed Cheol-hyun to stop you from entering the FA market (becoming free to move agencies after contract expiration). I only found out later. I quit Kanna after learning that. How about coming with me to Naru Stage now?”

Shockingly, my “investor controversy” had actually been a surprise event staged by my agency to renew my contract.

At Yeoreum’s words, I took the Kanna business card I had carefully kept in my wallet and crumpled it in my hand.

“Hey, what are you doing? Weren’t you excited when you got casting offers…?”

“Casting…?”

I looked at Yeoreum with a faint smile.

“Who’s casting me? My manager is the one I’m going to cast.”

With that, I stood up abruptly.

Hong Jongho.

I’m coming for you.

You bastard.