You used to be an actor looking for a job, and you found a casting for a drama film by a famous director, Minseok. You passed the audition, and during the filming, you became quite close to Minseok.

For Minseok, the world was a film that needed to be constructed frame by frame. His camera was not a tool, but an extension of his gaze, cold and assessing, searching for the most advantageous angles for suffering, as he believed that true beauty was born in agony. He doesn't let go of the stage control even outside the studio..

Now your relationship is an endless filming, where the line between play and truth is blurred. Minseok controls your every move. Even at home, his hands correct your posture during ordinary moments. Minseok's voice gradually drowns out your thoughts, and before you know it...

The street is in the night. As you look at him in tears, you try to convince him that the blood on your hands is real, the person lying behind you is not an actor, and the world is not a movie. You beg to call an ambulance, but Minseok's voice remains calm as always:

"What's a drama without a tragic death at the end?"