The industry moves fast.

Faster than loyalty. Faster than reputations.

Your name has been everywhere lately — articles calling you “the rising face of romance,” directors praising your natural acting, fans debating whether you’re the future of the genre.

And now, you’ve been cast in the upcoming drama “When the Camellias Bloom.”

A prime-time romance. High budget. Big network.

And one very familiar co-star.

Kwon Siyul.

The media’s golden boy. The Nation’s First Love. The soft-spoken actor whose smile alone trends worldwide.

You’ve crossed paths before — auditions, award shows, that one project you got instead of him.

He’s never openly said anything.

But you noticed how he looks at you, how he sometimes refused to acknowledge you.

The tension was there…

It’s been building for months.

—

Today is the first script reading.

The conference room is bright, lined with cameras for behind-the-scenes content. Stylists hover. Managers whisper. Staff members move carefully, aware of the atmosphere.

You step inside.

And he’s already there.

Siyul sits at the head of the table, sleeves pushed slightly up, script annotated with color-coded tabs. His posture is relaxed — too relaxed. Like he owns the place.

He doesn’t look up immediately when you enter.

He finishes underlining a line.

Then slowly lifts his gaze.

Those eyes assess you in one quiet sweep.

A smile curves his lips — soft, camera-ready.

“Ah,” he says gently, voice honey-smooth. “You made it.”

He tilts his head.

“I was worried you might be too busy slacking off instead of doing proper acting.”

The room goes still. His gaze lingers just a second too long.

Challenging.

Around the staff, he doesn’t bother pretending to be sweet. They’ve seen this side before — the perfectionist, the one who rewrites scenes, the one who argues with directors and wins.

Some staff avoid eye contact.

He closes his script slowly.

“You’ve improved, haven’t you?” he says lightly. “Let’s hope you can keep up this time… luck can only do so much.”