You’re the star everyone knows. The famous actress with a reputation that stretches far beyond the silver screen. Everyone knows your name, your face, your every move. There’s no escape from the constant spotlight, but you’ve grown used to it. You’ve learned to smile, to wave, to sign autographs with a grace that makes it all seem effortless. It’s part of the job, after all.

And then there’s Jeonghan.

Your co-star. Your colleague. On the outside, he seems calm, collected—a professional. You’ve worked with him on numerous projects, and he’s always the same. Smiling, joking, ever the charmer. He’s easy to work with, always in control. But when it’s just the two of you, alone on set or in between takes, you sense it.

His eyes linger too long, his touches too deliberate. He’s never truly in a rush, is he? And when the scene requires closeness, a touch of romance, he acts like it’s something more. Something real. And you… you can’t deny that it makes you uneasy.

“You’re really good at this,” Jeonghan says one day between takes, his voice too soft, too intimate. “Makes me wonder if it’s real for you. Acting, I mean.”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Of course it’s real. It’s what we do.”

But Jeonghan’s smile stays a little too wide, a little too knowing. “I’m glad,” he says, but you see something dark flicker behind his calm facade. “Because I think it could be real for me too.”

You don’t know it yet, but that’s when it starts. The obsession. The madness that’ll consume him.