[Raiquèn's POV]
"Aside from that... why did you become an actress, Rai?"
Yeira asked, leaning back on the couch.
I pursed my lips.
I can't tell her it's because I admired her for a long time and got inspired by her, right..?
"O-oh... well, my aunt is a world-class actress. I was... inspired by her."
Sorry, Aunt Sera! But I'll use you as a scapegoat for now!
"Hm? Oh, right. Seraphina Ignazio?"
Yeira looked my way, and I adjusted how I sat—shifting slightly toward her.
"Yes! She's my auntie."
I said, a bit too energetically.
"Hm, come to think of it... I worked with her once."
"Yes! In that movie called Barcelona!"
Yeira looked at me, slightly surprised.
"Have you watched it?"
Of course I did! I've watched every movie and series you've been in!
"Yes—ahhh! I couldn't help but cry at the ending! Such a tragic one."
Yeira giggled softly.
"Can't help it. That's what the director wanted."
I pouted. "Hmm, but still. There could've been a lot of other ways to end it—not just killing the characters tragically, you know?"
I crossed my arms and leaned my head against the couch, facing her.
"What about you? Why did you become an actress?"
Yeira didn't speak for a moment.
Ah...? Was that too personal?
"Because my mother wanted me to," she finally said, simply.
But as I observed her face, I caught a flicker of something in her eyes—an emotion I couldn't quite name.
"It was her dream to become an actress, but she chose practicality. That's why~"
She said that playfully, though her tone carried something deeper beneath it.
"Ah? But keep it a secret, okay?"
Yeira turned to me and placed her index finger over her lips.
"Of course."
I replied softly, watching the way her expression changed again.
Looking at her now, I found myself becoming more and more curious...
Then my gaze fell to her lips.
Why... back then, why didn't Yeira kiss me?
Was it because it was only a rehearsal?
Will she really do it when it's the final play?
But why am I so caught up with it?
Ugh, I can't believe it. I think I'm becoming a pervert.
"The play... what do you think about the ending of it?"
She asked, her gaze fixed straight ahead.
The play... huh?
My Beloved Muse ended tragically too. Gwen died before Mitsura could even confess her feelings.
In the script—around Act 16—it was revealed that Gwen had been secretly helping Mitsura and Reyna gain access to the Duke's wealth and control over the town.
Gwen had known all along that her family's riches came from exploitation and corruption. And she couldn't stand it—watching the townsfolk suffer under her own father's hand.
So, even though she knew that the tea being served to her was poisoned... she still drank it.
The reason she let Mitsura become her portrait model was to secretly pass along clues about the Duke's house—helping Mitsura uncover the truth. But by the time Mitsura realized everything... it was too late.
Gwen had already consumed too much poison. All she could do was wait—silently and patiently—for her death.
"I think... it's unfair."
I murmured, my eyes distant, still lost in thought.
"Mitsura wanted Gwen to live once she learned she had nothing to do with the exploitation. But then... she was crushed when she realized Gwen had been helping her all along."
I paused for a moment, glancing at Yeira.
"So... don't you think it's unfair, Yeira? To watch someone you adore die in front of you—without your feelings ever reaching them?"
Yeira's gaze remained fixed ahead, her expression unreadable, as if she were staring at something only she could see.
"I think Gwen's decision was just right," Yeira said simply.
I didn't say anything. I just watched her—how she could speak with such calm, her expression composed, almost unreadable.
"She was already dying long before Mitsura came," Yeira continued softly.
"So... I think her death was beautifully written."
I narrowed my eyes slightly, studying her brief smile.
There was something intriguing about the way she said it—something hidden behind her words—but I couldn't quite tell what it was.
"But if Gwen had chosen to live," I replied, tilting my head, "it would've opened a chance for her and Mitsura to escape together."
Yeira's lips parted slightly.
"But... isn't the time Gwen spent with Mitsura while she painted her enough?"
She turned to look at me, her tone calm but her eyes distant—cool and unreadable.
"I don't think so," I said, pouting a little as I shifted to face forward.
"For me, that wouldn't be enough time with someone you love."
"Why?" Yeira asked quietly.
"It's just my opinion," I murmured, fiddling with my fingers.
"I think... it hurts the most when your partner left you to die than any other reasons."
"Because death is... inevitable."
For a long moment, silence stretched between us.
Then I laughed, trying to ease the tension.
"Hahaha! But still, I love how well-written both of their characters are."
"It would be niceee…"
I said playfully, looking up as if the ceiling held anything worth staring at.
"To experience their kind of love, at least."
I could feel Yeira's eyes on me.
I can't believe this—I'm literally talking like a child in front of her.
But it's not like I'm lying, anyway.
In my past life, I never got the chance to experience love; I was too busy surviving rather than actually living.
But in this life… will I get to experience it?
What a troublesome thought.
Still, it would be nice—if there could be someone other than my family who'd stay by my side.
"Say, Rai," Yeira called softly.
I turned to look at her, only to meet her mismatched eyes.
"Hm?"
"You never had any crush before?"
That was so random. I can't believe Yeira is the type to start this kind of conversation.
I chuckled lightly at her question before answering.
"No? I don't think so?"
It wasn't a lie. I just never found anyone attractive enough to be a romantic partner.
Besides, I'm still a minor in this body.
And honestly, I've been too busy practicing and building my career to even think about that.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, and I don't think I'd make a great partner right now."
I laughed awkwardly, swaying my feet lightly against the couch.
Then, I felt a subtle shift—the cushion beside me dipped.
When I turned, my eyes widened slightly. Yeira had leaned closer.
"Rai."
She murmured, her voice soft yet steady, her mismatched eyes locking with mine.
As I thought… Yeira's lashes are long—elegantly so.
And her eyes… there's something both warm and cold in them. Maybe it's the heterochromia, maybe not.
There's something deeper, something that pulls me in—just like the first time I ever saw her, back when I was just a child watching her model.
"Why do you think so lowly of yourself?"
Her words sank softly, almost like a whisper to my soul. Then, her hand rose—gentle fingers brushing my cheek before tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I blinked, startled by her sudden nearness, by her touch that lingered just a little too long.
I tried to laugh it off.
"Because I still think of myself as a kid. I should focus on my career, you know?"
A safe answer—or so I thought. But Yeira's expression didn't waver.
"You know," she said quietly.
"When I look at you, when I talk to you… I get this feeling that you're far more mature than your age."
My lips parted slightly at her words, unsure what to say.
Then she asked,
"Don't you find this world boring, Rai?"
Her tone had changed—calm, but heavy with meaning.
"What do you mean?" I asked softly.
"The people," she murmured, her gaze drifting for a second.
"The reporters who rush at you, the fake smiles you're forced to give even when you're exhausted."
I understood her words. They made sense. That's the price of being an actress.
And yet… I couldn't quite grasp what she truly meant beneath them. Was she tired? Lonely?
All I could focus on was her warmth—her hand still resting gently on my cheek, the way her scent filled the space between us.
The sweetness in the air felt suffocating, intoxicating.
Her gaze lowered, lingering on my lips.
"Say, Rai…" her voice softened to a whisper that trembled between us.
"if I told you to distract me… would you indulge my request?"
Distract her?
Distract her from what?
I didn't understand what she meant. But I knew—Yeira never said things without reason.
What was she going through?
I wanted to know. I wanted to ask.
Would it be alright to pry? Would she even let me?
"Yeira—"
Before I could finish, a voice shouted from outside the door.
"Yeira!?"
Then came the sound of rattling metal. Help had arrived.
I turned back to Yeira. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from my cheek and turned her head toward the door.
I wanted to ask so badly—what did she mean by that?
"Seems like Éryan has arrived," she said softly, her tone calm again, almost unreadable. Then she stood up.
Before she could walk away, I instinctively reached out and tugged at the edge of her coat.
She stopped and looked back, her expression returning to the composed, distant one she always wore in public.
"Rai?"
She said my name gently, as if pulling me back to reality.
I looked up at her, lips parting, but no words came out. I didn't know what to say. Or maybe... I was afraid to ask.
And as I looked at her from this close, something struck me—something I hadn't noticed before.
The Yeira in front of me, the one everyone called a young genius actress, adored and showered with compliments... looked utterly lonely beneath the smile she always wore.
Then the door opened with a heavy creak.
We both turned toward it. The staff burst in, panic painted across their faces, apologizing over and over for the inconvenience.
But it wasn't really anyone's fault.
Yeira walked toward them, her back now facing me—slowly fading away, step by step.
Distraction... huh?
The word echoed in my mind as I thought back to the warmth of her hand on my cheek.
I forced myself to stand, smiling as I assured the staff it was alright.
At the far end of the hallway, I caught sight of Yeira again. Éryan stood beside her, scolding lightly, his voice tinged with concern.
Yeira simply listened—her expression calm, composed, and distant once more.
And just like that… the warmth she left behind felt even colder with the little secret between us.