The studio lights felt like a warm, forgiving sun, a stark contrast to the cold glare of the public eye Selena Bakker had endured for months. She sat poised in her chair, having just finished her declaration of eternal love for her late husband. The host, Baek Si-woo, leaned forward, his expression a carefully crafted blend of curiosity and sympathy.

"Selena-ssi," he began, his voice gentle. "The public knows the star, the actress. But can you tell us... how was your life before the fame? Before you came to Korea?"

Selena offered a small, wistful smile, perfectly calibrated to evoke pathos. "My life was very simple," she said, her voice soft and reflective. "The only thing I always had, the one constant, was my passion for acting. It was my escape, my dream."

She paused, her gaze drifting as if looking into the past. "It wasn't always easy. I was bullied in my school for acting. The other children... they thought it was strange, that I was putting on airs." She gave a slight, graceful shrug, a gesture of resilience. "But life, even then, was good enough for me to live. I've come to believe that sometimes, bad things happen in life to make way for a better future."

Si-woo nodded along, his face a mask of empathy. "That's a very brave perspective. Can you share... what were some of those 'bad things'?"

A shadow passed over Selena's delicate features. "One day," she said, her voice dropping to a confidential tone, "my mother left our house. She just... walked out. Without even saying anything."

The host's eyes widened in genuine, televised shock. "By 'left,' you mean... she left? Or... she passed away?"

Selena was quick to correct him, shaking her head. "Oh, no, no. She left me. She walked out and never came back. She never contacted me ever again." She looked down at her hands, her expression a complex mix of sorrow and understanding. "My mother was divorced, you see. So maybe... maybe she just chose a life she thought was better than the one she had with me."

The studio was silent, hanging on her every word. Si-woo, sensing the profound loneliness in her story, gently pressed on. "And your father?"

A brighter, yet still tragic, smile touched her lips. "That was the good part of the story. We lived in the Netherlands, and my father lived and worked here, in South Korea. After my mom left me, I had no one. So, I came to Korea to live with my dad. I was so hopeful... it was a new beginning."

She let the hope linger for a beat before delivering the final, heartbreaking blow. "Unfortunately," she said, her voice catching with just the right amount of emotion, "he died in a car accident. It was just six months prior to my wedding with Min-jun."

The picture was complete for the audience: the bullied child, the abandoned daughter, the orphaned immigrant. It was a masterclass in building a sympathetic backstory, a narrative of a woman who had endured so much loss, making the recent tragedy of her husband's murder almost cosmically cruel. She wasn't just a widow; she was a survivor, and the public was being expertly guided to root for her.