Chapter 18: The Shadow, The Corset, and Too Much Prosecco
"Don't worry, sweetie," Lukas said, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and professional pride. "If that Seo-yoon wants proof that you're Ji-soo, we'll give it to her. We're going to perform a little magic. We'll film a video of Ariadne—but naturally, in a way that no one recognizes you. That way, she can confirm that you are you... or rather, that you aren't you, but... wait." He paused, momentarily lost in his own logic. "Oha, darling, your life is a total train wreck right now. But never mind, you know who you are! Let's get to work."
Lukas began hauling piles of clothes into the living room, insisting Clara try on everything to find the perfect outfit for an 'eccentric queen of literature.'
"Here, sweetie, we'll use this corset to push your breasts up," Lukas announced, brandishing the garment.
"But why?" Clara protested, looking at the restrictive lace. "I thought you were only filming my silhouette?"
"Of course I am, Clara-honey, but gravity is the enemy! Put it on."
While Clara was being squeezed into a completely different persona, Lukas transformed the apartment. He covered every window with dark foil and set up professional studio lights he had bought years ago for his own vlog. The vlog had never actually launched because Lukas could never decide what to wear for the first episode; he usually ended up drinking so much Prosecco out of frustration that he'd fall asleep before hitting 'record.'
Finally, he stacked a mountain of old fashion magazines for Clara to sit on. When she looked at the laptop screen, she gasped. The reflection showed a mysterious, elegant female silhouette. It definitely wasn't 'Ji-soo.'
"Okay, sweetie, everything is tippi-toppi prepared," Lukas whispered, getting behind the camera. "Now it's up to you. Disguise your voice. Become Ariadne. Be cool, be clear, and for heaven's sake, stay in English. No word-salad like you usually do when you're nervous. And... Action!"
Clara took a deep breath, forcing her racing heart to steady.
"This is Ariadne," she began. Her voice was cool, distant, and carried an undeniable authority. "I am forced to interrupt my writing because I have been informed that my assistant, Ji-soo, is being accused of being a fraud. Let me clarify: Ji-soo is my assistant. More than that, she is my right hand, my eyes, and my ears. She does excellent work and reports to me daily on the progress of Mr. Kang's production."
She tilted her head, the silhouette looking regal on the screen.
"The fact that my assistant is not publicly listed is by my specific request. And let me remind you: if Ji-soo hadn't been with me in Paris, this deal would never have happened. If I receive any more of these 'negative reports,' I will take the liberty of terminating our collaboration immediately. I trust I have made myself clear."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"Oh, and if there are individuals with too much time on their hands—perhaps because they are unemployed and haven't landed a new film role—they should use that time to fix their own lives instead of meddling in others. I wish you all a pleasant day."
"And... CUT!" Lukas shrieked, nearly dropping the camera. "Clara! You were incredible! I never knew you were such a great actress. Bravo, sweetie!"
Clara let out a long, shaky breath, her adrenaline fading. "Thanks, Luki... but I feel like I'm going to faint. Let me out of this corset, quickly!"
"Of course! But first," Lukas said, already popping a cork, "we drink Prosecco to calm your nerves. Prösterchen! Stößchen! I can't wait to see the reactions at the set when they see Ariadne's message tomorrow."
The Viral Bomb
The atmosphere at the studio was suffocating. Seo-yoon was standing next to Min-ho near the monitor station, looking like a cat that had finally caught the canary.
"Min-ho, darling, you've seen the evidence my manager found," Seo-yoon said, her voice loud enough for the nearby crew to hear. "There is no record of a 'Ji-soo' at Ariadne's agency. Keeping a fraud on the payroll is a liability. For the sake of the movie—and my reputation—she needs to go. Today."
Min-ho's face was unreadable, his jaw tight. He looked at Clara, who was standing a few meters away, clutching a script so hard her knuckles were white. Before he could respond, a chorus of notification sounds erupted across the set.
Ping. Chime. Buzz.
Every technician, every makeup artist, and even the security guards pulled out their phones.
"What is this?" Mr. Kim stammered, fumbling with his tablet. "Ariadne... she just posted a video? After three years of silence?"
Seo-yoon froze. "A video? That's impossible."
Min-ho took the tablet from Mr. Kim's shaking hands. The entire set went silent as the video started to play. The mysterious silhouette of a woman appeared, regal and intimidating. Then, her voice—cold and sharp as a diamond—filled the room.
"Ji-soo is my eyes and ears... she is the only one who speaks for me... if I hear one more word about frauds, your contract will be the next thing that doesn't exist."
When the line about "unemployed actresses who should focus on their own lives" played, a collective gasp went through the crew. Someone in the back actually muffled a laugh.
Seo-yoon's face turned from pale to a bright, angry purple. Her hands started to shake so violently she dropped her expensive designer sunglasses. "This... this is a fake! This has to be a trick!"
Min-ho didn't look at Seo-yoon. He looked straight at Clara. There was a strange glint in his eyes—part relief, part intense curiosity. He stepped closer to her, the tablet still in his hand.
"It seems," Min-ho said, his voice low and vibrating with authority, "that Ariadne is much more protective of you than anyone realized, Ji-soo."
He then turned to the entire crew, his voice booming. "Back to work! We have a movie to make. And Seo-yoon? I suggest you follow the author's advice... and focus on your lines."
Seo-yoon looked like she was about to explode. She turned on her heel and stormed toward her trailer, screaming for her manager.
Clara stood there, her heart hammering. She had won this round. But as Min-ho walked past her, he whispered just loud enough for her to hear: "We still need to finish our conversation from yesterday. Tonight. My place."