Chapter 4

BLACKOUT

“Hello, everyone!”

Hyeongseok’s booming voice announced Lee Yeon’s arrival.

“Wow…”

“Oh… it’s Lee Yeon.”

The reactions were typical, but Lee Yeon found it difficult to maintain her composure every time.

In truth, nothing had been easy since the day her photo first appeared in the heart of Seoul. To be more honest, she often wondered if deciding to walk this path was the right thing to do.

“Lee Yeon, hi! We just saw each other the day before yesterday. Want some tea?”

“Yes, please take care of me today too, Director.”

It was a relief to at least be familiar with the beauty staff. Thanks to those who offered her a warm cup of tea instead of a boisterous welcome, Lee Yeon could finally breathe easily.

As the staff bustled around, she exchanged quick greetings with the photographer, main assistant, and advertising editor who came to the waiting room, then immediately began preparing for the shoot.

It had been four years now. Lee Yeon was accustomed enough to shoots to accept herself as a ‘model,’ but thinking back to when she first started, she still broke out in a cold sweat. It had been so awkward.

Now, she was known for being intensely shy, which helped somewhat, but in the beginning, she faced many misunderstandings and even some serious conflicts on one or two occasions.

The biggest issue was her ingrained habits and manner of speech. No matter how hard she tried to fix them, they would unconsciously slip out, causing misunderstandings.

Things like her naturally condescending tone and way of looking at people.

<I know she’s popular these days, but what’s with that haughty attitude?>

<She looked down on me l-like this! Just a nod of her head. Is she ignoring me? I can’t work like this!>

After every shoot, Hyeongseok always had to lead her to deal with angry people. Explaining the situation, apologizing, and bowing her head to each of them was a common occurrence.

Things only improved somewhat after a major public broadcast documentary about Socheonkyo aired.

At the time, ‘Model Lee Yeon’s’ popularity was already on the rise, so there was concern that the content of the broadcast might cause problems for her future work.

But contrary to their worries, the existence of ‘Yeonhwa’ was not mentioned at all in the broadcast. Instead, Lee Yeon benefited from the documentary.

People who learned about the absurd social hierarchy and excessively strict rules created by the fraudulent cult leader began to overlook Lee Yeon’s mistakes.

However, Lee Yeon didn’t entirely like it. She knew the truth would eventually come out, and she had to bear the burden of things people didn’t know about on her own.

It felt like she was walking a tightrope every day. The greater the praise and support for ‘Lee Yeon,’ the more anxious and guilty she felt, fearing that what she had done might be exposed at any moment.

“You look a little pale today. Are you not feeling well?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Lee Yeon looked at her reflection in the mirror. She had suffered from a hangover all weekend, so it was only natural for her complexion to be poor.

“Your eyes are red too, and wait, you seem to have a bit of a fever…”

“I guess I didn’t sleep well.”

Her condition had hit rock bottom, quite literally, since she woke up in the hotel room that morning.

The terrible headache from the hangover was one problem, but the shock of most of her memories from the previous night being gone was immense.

Experiencing a blackout for the first time in her life was pure terror.

She managed to recall taking Jeong Sihyeon’s forgotten room key, sifting through her throbbing head.

But after that, no matter how hard she tried, it was useless. She could only feel somewhat relieved that there were no traces of anyone else in the room. There was no other choice but to conclude, somewhat optimistically, that she had been incredibly drunk, made it to her room on her own two feet, and immediately fallen asleep.

With a severe headache, shame, and a bottle of water, when she left the hotel room, she had intended to dismiss it as a mere one-night mishap, vowing never to underestimate champagne again.

But even that small hope shattered the moment she stepped out the door.

It was because of the paper shopping bag neatly hanging on the doorknob and the sudden memory of black shoe tips.

Not only could she not remember who the owner of those shoes was, but the shopping bag contained low-heeled flats and a hangover remedy. There was no card or note with a message, which only added to her confusion.

“Ha…”

Just thinking about it made her head throb, furrowing her brow.

“Are you really okay? Should I call Director Hyeongseok?”

“No. It’s just… I had a bad dream, and it keeps coming back to me.”

“Oh, really? It must have been a terrible nightmare if it keeps bothering you.”

If only it had been just a nightmare.

Memories that didn’t return even with time were more terrifying than any nightmare.

“But what are we going to do? Today’s shoot will be really long. That photographer is famous. He’ll keep shooting endlessly until he gets a shot he likes.”

Hyeongseok had told her something similar on the way to the set.

He mainly shot art photography, so he never did a half-hearted job just because it was an advertisement. He reportedly directed every single strand of hair.

If that was true, it was bound to be a difficult shoot, but Lee Yeon actually thought it was for the best. She figured it would be better to concentrate on something rather than constantly rummaging through her muddled mind.

“Model ready. Let’s shoot!”

The very first shot was a close-up.

It was the most difficult task, requiring her to convey everything solely through her expression and gaze, without the help of background or props. However, the success of the entire session often hinged on the first shot, so she had to focus intently.

“Alright, Lee Yeon. I absolutely hate explaining things multiple times, so listen carefully, okay?”

The photographer, with a sparse beard on his philtrum and chin, suddenly warned her sharply.

“What I want is a feeling like ruins. A very fragile existence blossoming amidst apocalypse, death. Do you understand? But it can’t be too sad or merely beautiful. You know, like photos of children in conflict zones. That kind of… a heavy, heartbreaking feeling just from looking at it. Do you get it?”

She was a little flustered by the demand to evoke a feeling on the battlefield when the prepared set was full of flowers. But he began to ask for even more absurd things. Like loosening her pupils then slowly contracting them, slightly parting her lips without showing her teeth, and creating the nuance of exhaling a breath. He continued with obscure and difficult-to-understand directions.

“I’ll try my best.”

They were incomprehensible demands, so she could only say that much for now. He seemed unconvinced, let out a deep sigh, and added,

“You’ve experienced it yourself, haven’t you? Hmm? That photo that made Lee Yeon debut? That one. Try to recall the emotions you felt then. That should be easy, right? Isn’t it?”

In that instant, the expressions of all the staff, except the photographer, crumpled simultaneously.

Their faces clearly showed, ‘Does he really have to bring that up?’ Because asking her to recall that time was asking Lee Yeon to dredge up a terrible memory. Hyeongseok’s face, in particular, hardened terrifyingly.

Quiet whispers spread, and the air on the set grew heavy, yet the photographer acted oblivious. Lee Yeon calmly nodded.

“Yes. I’ll try.”

“Good! Then let’s go!”

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t angry at the photographer’s insensitive directing.

But she couldn’t argue with his statement that it wasn’t a difficult task. As he said, Lee Yeon could recall that moment without even trying.

“Alright, staff, clear out. Quiet! Let the model get into character! Kim, raise the side light more. The lines are overlapping!”

As soft background music began to play, Lee Yeon took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

In the pitch-black darkness, she quietly, heavily sent her consciousness back to that day five years ago.

Soon, the exceptionally clear sky, the dry air from a long period without rain, and even the scent of the corn bread she had for breakfast that morning vividly returned.

It was nothing difficult, having repeated it dozens, hundreds of times.

If anything, it seemed to become clearer each time she recalled it.

The thoughts she had when she took out and put on her new ceremonial robes, the breath that briefly faltered, the throbbing pain—when all of it came back… Lee Yeon finally opened her eyes above the altar, where embers were flying.

‘S-save! Save me…!’

‘Aargh! Ugh… Ughhh…’

Black smoke billowed as if to cover the sky, and an acrid smell pierced the mucous membranes of her nostrils.

Everything in her sight was burning. The chapel, the altar, the people.

It was, quite literally, a living hell, filled with terrible screams, groans, and cries.

And there, Lee Yeon, no. Yeonhwa, could do nothing.

‘Yeonhwa-nim…!’

Except powerlessly watch those who were dying, seeking salvation from her.

‘Why… Why us…’

Except watch the desperation in people’s eyes turn into bewilderment, and finally, into rage.

“Good! Lee Yeon, that gaze! Nice!”