“How was your day, dear?” her mom asked gently.

Ae-cha sighed, poking at her food. “Not so good, Mom…”

“Here, try this,” her mother said, sliding over a cup. “Chocolate milk. Made with the brightest chocolate powder. It’s good for kids.”

“Sure, Mom.”

Ae-cha lifted the cup — but suddenly her hand slipped. The milk cascaded down her dress, splattering across the table.

The whole room froze.

Then—

“CUT!”

A booming voice shattered the silence. The studio lights dimmed. Cameras stopped rolling.

Director Kim threw his headset onto a chair. “What just happened here?! Who messed this up?”

The actress playing Ae-cha’s mom immediately bowed her head. “I-I’m sorry, Director. I slipped… it was my fault.”

The set grew tense. Staff members shuffled awkwardly, pretending to look busy.

Ae-cha, still seated in her child actress costume, smiled sweetly. Her manager rushed over, concern in his eyes.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

She tilted her head, still wearing that angelic, innocent grin. “It’s fine. Things like this happen sometimes. I’ll go change.”

But the moment she stepped into her van, the atmosphere changed.

Ae-cha yanked off her headband, dropped her jewelry on the couch, and let her expression fall into something cold. Something regal. Something terrifying.

Her voice rang out — no longer a child’s, but a queen’s command. A ruler of hell itself.

“Replace her.”

Her manager blinked. “…Ma’am? Replace who?”

Ae-cha’s eyes narrowed. “Are you blind, Myung-bo? The woman who spilled the milk. The one playing my mother. Replace her. Immediately.”

Manager Myung-bo swallowed, beads of sweat forming. “I-I understand, ma’am… But with this delay, we can’t shoot the ad today.”

Ae-cha leaned back on the leather seat, folding her arms like a monarch giving judgment. “I don’t care. Cancel the shoot. Tell the cast to go home. I’m not in the mood today.”

When the van doors slid open, however—

Switch.

The brat vanished. The diva disappeared.

The idol stepped out.

Fans squealed as they gathered near the gates. Cameras flashed. Ae-cha’s smile turned dazzling, pure innocence shining like the morning sun.

She waved, posed, signed autographs, even crouched down for selfies.

But as she leaned close to whisper in her manager’s ear, her smile didn’t falter — though her words dripped like venom.

“Who allowed these people into my house?”

Manager Myung-bo bowed deeply, mumbling excuses. The fans, of course, saw only their angel.

And then, as quickly as she had appeared, Ae-cha slipped into her mansion and shut the doors.

---

Present Day — Seoul National University

I, Phoenix Hart, sat frozen in my chair, slack-jawed.

“Wait, wait, wait… THAT was your story?! That wasn’t childhood drama, that was a commercial shoot gone wrong!”

Kang Joon-Woo sipped his soda, completely unfazed.

“I told you. She always wanted the spotlight. She started as a child actress, after all. Hot-tempered too, before she fell for me.”

Ae-cha whipped her head around, eyes wide.

“Excuse me? What did you just say? I fell for you?!”

Joon-Woo smirked, leaning back. “Didn’t you just admit it?”

Their bickering sparks flew, threatening to set off another round of fireworks.

I nervously raised my notebook, trying to calm them down. “S-so, what I’m hearing is… you were a little diva back then, Ae-cha?”

Her eyes snapped to me like arrows.

“What did you just call me?”

My heart dropped. “N-no! Not diva! I meant—uh—Little… D-d… Dazzler! Yes! Dazzler!”

Her glare intensified.

I gulped. My hands were shaking so bad I nearly dropped my pen.

But instead of snapping, Ae-cha flipped her hair and turned her nose up with a smirk.

“Hmph. Well. At least you admit my story is interesting.”

Joon-Woo groaned, muttering under his breath. “She’s impossible.”

Me? I was sweating buckets, already regretting letting her take over the spotlight.

But it was too late now.

Because Park Ae-cha had only just begun her tale.

---

To Be Continued…