I Don't Want To Do a Romantic Comedy With a Villain! - Chapter 38

Episode 38

During the time it took to reach the reception room, Permette didn’t speak to Min-joo. 

Seeing Min-joo’s deeply bowed head and trembling shoulders, it was almost as if Permette could guess the unasked questions.

Compared to Vehen’s house, the relatively small reception room was still quite elegant. It seemed like a considerable amount of money had been spent on it, serving as a space to welcome outsiders and spend time. The marble floor, sofas made of fabric, and red curtains partially covering the windows all looked quite valuable.

Following Permette’s guidance, Min-joo sat down on the sofa. 

Snacks and tea were promptly prepared as soon as Min-joo took her seat. 

Min-joo raised her head, trying to dry the tears she had barely held back, but she turned it away when she felt a gaze staring at her from the side.

“You’re staring too much.”

“Is it a big deal? Like someone being murdered.”

Permette’s serious question seemed humorous. For Permette, a big deal was probably something like Vehen’s death.

Min-joo leaned back on the sofa.

“No. Permette, you might have heard, but Viscount Ziken’s house burned down. And the bill didn’t pass.”

“I heard.”

“You heard.”

“Is it such a big deal to come all the way here for such news?”

Although it sounded like a reproach towards Min-joo, it implied questioning whether Min-joo was sent to the outskirts just to deliver such late news.

“Of course, it’s a big deal, but since the goal is achieved, it’s not that disappointing.”

Permette’s goal was to cut off Tedric’s funds, preventing him from operating the gambling den. So, Permette had no regrets. Permette knew Tedric wasn’t that foolish and suspected he would have used tricks to avoid getting caught. 

Burning Viscount Ziken’s house and spreading rumors among the nobles to create a certain atmosphere was a bold move, but Min-joo hadn’t thought it would be that audacious.

Min-joo sighed as if anticipating Permette’s reaction. While Min-joo was shocked, she wasn’t particularly disappointed.

Tedric being caught up in this incident was the original plot, but Min-joo felt that it couldn’t be helped since things had already deviated from the original story. She was also aware that liberating slaves wasn’t an easy task.

Carefully sipping tea, Min-joo spoke. Her mouth seemed to tingle.

“It seems there’s a spy in Vehen’s house. Or perhaps a maidservant who is passionately in love with Vehen and has gone mad.”

Even though Vehen warned her not to speak, the Permette Min-joo knew was the kind to report to Vehen and seek advice on what to do. He wasn’t a character to betray.

“I did consider the possibility of a spy, so I was cautious.”

That made sense. Min-joo, who suspected a maidservant to the point of pointing a gun, wouldn’t do so without reason.

After biting into a pomegranate, Permette spoke.

“His Excellency is a good person, but not to the extent of being loved to the point of madness due to his personality.”

The analysis from the closest aide of seventeen years was sharp. Permette strengthened his resolve about the existence of a spy and turned to Min-joo.

Permette’s long eyelashes moved slowly, like the fluttering of a butterfly.

“His Excellency would not know this, but are you done talking to him?”

“No, we fought before exchanging words.”

“You fought?”

“Yes. So I’m telling you to convey this to Vehen. There seemed to be a spy among the maids, and I couldn’t determine their number. Also, the spy has approached me.”

Permette played with his lower lip as if he had come across an interesting story.

After a moment of contemplation, Permette, with the remaining pomegranate in his mouth, began to shake his toes in the air.

“What do you plan to do?”

“The spy? Vehen should handle it.”

“No, it’s Min-joo’s opinion. Since the spy approached you, do you plan to respond positively?”

Min-joo put down the tea she was sipping with surprised eyes. The clinking sound of the cup and saucer echoed.

“I’ve been thinking about it, but Permette is quick-witted. Yes, I’m considering selling Vehen’s information to the spy.”

“And then?”

“If I know who is acting on the information I leaked, I can catch them in the act. Imagine how thrilling it would be if someone fell into the trap of false information.”

With a gentle smile, Min-joo pointed to the distant cannoli. Unable to reach it, she asked Permette to pick it up for her. Permette picked up the cannoli and looked at Min-joo.

“Since you told me without discussing it with His Excellency, I’m curious about the reason you fought.”

“There’s a rumor that I’m Vehen’s lover in his mansion.”

Permette shoved the cannoli into his mouth. Crunch, the sound of sugar crystals breaking echoed.

Vehen’s lover. Min-joo entertains and enjoys prosperity as Vehen’s lover.

Inside his mouth, sugar and bread mixed and crumbled.

Permette couldn’t discern whether it was the cannoli, his feelings, or something else mixing in his mouth.

Why is he angry? Why is his heart pounding as if it’s leaping under his feet?

‘If this is love, isn’t it too heavy an emotion?’

The thought that he had while looking at Min-joo’s back came back to him.

If this emotion isn’t love, then what is it? Why does this emotion, flipping his insides, wandering up and down, feel this way?

Permette wiped sugar crumbs from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. It was sweet, too sweet.

He couldn’t ask.

Min-joo wanted to draw a line with Permette, and if she asked what this emotion was, the answer would be obvious.

If she said it was a profound emotion, Permette would approach without hesitation. Surely he would.

Was he upset because she was being treated like a plaything – someone whose body is handed around like a window?

Permette couldn’t take his eyes off Min-joo.

“Asked for something, and he ended up eating it himself.”

“…….”

“Surprised? I was too. I thought I was living well enough. Working hard, not causing harm. I thought I was doing well, doing my job and living, but it turned out I wasn’t.”

For Min-joo, Permette was selfish, self-centered, lacking empathy and humanity.

She thought of Permette as a character who couldn’t get close no matter how much one tried.

When she complained about something difficult, it seemed like he would only give her a sarcastic remark.

But now, she knows.

Permette wasn’t as self-absorbed as she thought, and even if lacking in humanity, he wasn’t a heartless trash.

Min-joo continued talking, sprawled on the sofa. The candlelight illuminating the room felt unusually intense today, like a wildfire.

“I’m afraid of attention. Permette may not understand, but where I lived, there was something called the Internet. If you upload a video, everyone in the world can see it.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“It’s true. Permette, how do I look?”

Permette rolled his eyes to find the right answer to the sudden question. He couldn’t figure out what answer could comfort Min-joo.

So, he decided to give the most generic comfort.

“You’re beautiful. Always have been.”

“Really? I knew my appearance was liked by people.”

From the moment she was born, constant compliments about her looks, suggestions to become a celebrity, and more poured in.

Men asking for her number on the way to school, girls wanting to be friends.

All because Min-joo was pretty. The attention she received due to her high-level appearance was natural for her.

“People said I could be anything since I was pretty. So, I naturally tried to become an actress.”

Encouraged by people around her, she started learning acting in middle school.

She even prepared for college entrance exams.

Watching actors on screen didn’t feel difficult at all.

The faces of the actor on the screen, their acting, the plot that captivates the audience, screen composition, direction – everything seemed lovely and approachable.

As a result, she genuinely wanted to act. To breathe with the audience, shake their hearts, empathize, and walk along with the story.

When Min-joo pointed to the cannoli again, Permette picked it up once more.

And then handed it to Min-joo.

Min-joo stared at the cannoli in her hand and took a bite. The sugared rim melted and solidified, wandering in her mouth.

“There’s a perception that learning acting here is vulgar. But where I live, it was an object of admiration. Anyway, when I went to college to become an actress, there was a video I acted in for an assignment that ended up on the internet.”

Titled “A University Theater and Film Major Female Student,” Min-joo’s acting videos were scattered all over the place. Acting alone in front of the camera, shedding tears, expressing anger – it was an assignment video that she never expected to receive so much attention.

“Beautiful. People say I’m so pretty they could die. They don’t understand my acting; they only see my face. They want to do something with me once. It scared me. I thought I was good at acting, and my skills mattered more than my appearance. I hated that people weren’t interested in that.”

The comments on the video were still vivid. They were so clear that it felt like they were hovering in front of her.

‘She’s not even that pretty. Why do people like her? I don’t get it.’

‘I don’t even know if she’s good at acting. She just relies on her face too much.’

‘With that face, I’d get accepted anywhere. Let’s do something together.’

‘Professors must be fond of her. In various ways~’

As the video spread on the internet, Min-joo became increasingly afraid. Gossip and harassment surrounded her, pushing her into a corner.

Her arms looked a bit fatty, so she had to lose weight on her B+, her fingers were straight and slender, making them an A-, her shoulders were not too sharp but rounded, earning a C+, and her face was an A.

Like cutting meat, they divided her into sections on the chopping board. She had to lose weight on her arms and make her shoulders as straight as possible to avoid looking round.

To turn her A- fingers into A, she spent a lot on nail art. Min-joo, who used to be moderately slim until then, received comments about having some fat, thanks to the distorted camera.

She relentlessly lost weight, vomiting what she ate, enduring the day with just a banana and a bit of milk, leading to digestive problems.

Going from 165 cm and 52 kg to 43 kg took less than six months, and it was incredibly painful – the agony of scraping bones and flesh.

Despite the pain, adjusting to their taste was disgusting. Even after half a year, putting anything in her mouth made her nauseous.

It was only after she shifted to directing, three months later, that she started eating normally again.

As the videos spread, people Min-joo didn’t even know pretended to be acquaintances, tearing her apart, and spreading false rumors about her personality and vanity.

She would have felt less unjust and futile if she hadn’t put in any effort.

Min-joo never let go of studying or acting. She studied hard to get into college and shed tears practicing acting until her voice turned hoarse.

But in the end, her efforts disappeared, leaving only her appearance.

“I hated it. I worked my heart out, but no one recognized it. People at school even insulted me, saying I got in based on my looks. One of my classmates took a leave of absence because of some weird rumors. Whenever I think about that time, I feel like no matter what I do, people won’t acknowledge it.”

Has she ever shared such a story with someone else? No, she hadn’t. Not with classmates, family, or even Vehen. 

It felt comfortable with Permette. Like comfortable shoes that fit perfectly. 

With Permette, who hadn’t fully become human, it seemed like he would easily overlook and not make a big deal out of it.

Without dwelling on it, thinking, “So what?” seemed to be the only response.

It became a comical contradiction. To share a serious story with someone not taken seriously.

“I never lacked in studying or practicing. But suddenly, I was the one who got into university for being stupid, full of vanity, and trusting only in my looks. I was terrified all of a sudden.”

Permette silently listened to Min-joo’s words without interrupting. Even the lack of premature consolation in Permette’s response felt surprisingly comforting.

“I managed to lose weight in six months somehow. Eating and vomiting, enduring the day with just a banana. If I become an actress later, will I have to endure this for the rest of my life? The stares, the whispers behind my back, constantly being haunted by that. It’s agonizing… Thinking that I have to live being torn apart, my future seems pitch dark.”

It was as if she stood in front of a massive mountain, overwhelmed by an overpowering fear.

Standing in front of the camera, smiling while allowing strangers to criticize and tear her apart, Min-joo began to question whether she would truly be happy. 

After that, whenever she stood on stage or in front of the camera, she felt nothing. Her mind emptied, her hands and feet trembled less, and even nausea set in. Her long-standing dream crumbled disappointingly.

“I only know how to run away…”

Running away and avoiding were always her coping mechanisms. 

She pushed away offers of help from peers and disregarded juniors and seniors. She couldn’t bring herself to share what was happening with friends who wondered what was going on lately. Not with her family or her short-term lover. 

All she could think about was wanting to escape.

There was no courage to confront the strange rumors like her classmate did or to deny them. There was no perseverance to overcome the trauma. 

Min-joo hid herself, leaving behind the world of acting and becoming a director.

“Giving up on dreams pathetically, hiding from gazes and rumors, just running away. Without perseverance, without desperation…”

Permette took the cannoli from Min-joo’s hand, gently pushing it into her tearful mouth. The cannoli felt soft and chewy as Min-joo bit into it, becoming increasingly indulgent.

Permette smiled gently. 

“I killed a person. Isn’t running away much better?” 

His smile was compassionate, kind, and warm, strangely contrasting with the statement he uttered.

It was a smile that seemed like a merciful deity, not fitting with the words he spoke.