Gong Myung stood in front of a bulletin board, intensely staring at a certain flyer. The flyer would catch anyone’s attention with its clashing bright blue background and bolded, orange font. His mind swelled with his mother’s words that were circling his mind. Go chase your dreams like your dad used to tell you.

“Hey!” Someone tapped his shoulder.

He turned to see Ahreum smiling brightly at him. “You’re going to class today?” He was surprised to see her on campus when usually, she would be at a shoot for her drama.

“My filming starts later in the day, so I have time to go to my classes. Actually, it’s more like I don’t have an excuse to skip my classes.”

“I think saying that you’re really tired from filming with Hallyu actors all day, is a pretty good excuse.”

“I wish that it was, but the school is stricter than you think.”

“Maybe you can slip in an autograph from the actors you film with.”

“Are you telling me to bribe them?”

“No. I’m only suggesting that giving them a little present may help your case.”

“That’s bribing,” she said with an amused smile. “You really aren’t as innocent as you look.”

He shrugged. “I told you that my innocent face is hiding the beast inside.” His fingers contracted to mimic the claws of an animal while he scrunched his face up to copy the appearance of a monster.

“Please stop doing that,” she giggled.

From afar, they both spotted a conspicuous crowd—made entirely of women—following behind a fellow dormmate of theirs. “They’re at it again,” Ahreum said.

Gong Myung’s attention went towards the crowd, then at the man they were following, then said, “Chanyeol and his fangirls?”

“Yup. Chanyeol and his fangirls,” Ahreum validated. “Want to go see what they’re up to?” She grinned, interested in watching Chanyeol and his fans despite knowing that it was an absolute waste of time.

“Sure. I have nothing better to do.”

 

Chanyeol found a spot under a tree. He placed down his easel and started laying out his art supplies, doing it coolly and stopping himself from grinning when seeing the attention he was getting. “It’s a rather fine day to create art,” he said. He brought his hand up, palm facing the sun, as he deliberately stared at the sky, eyes crinkling cutely from the rays. Then, he pretended to just notice the crowd of women watching him, before smiling. “Do all of you want me to paint for you?”

The women nodded, some chiming a, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I’m not feeling well today. University, classes, life…” He sighed dramatically. “They’re all piling up and…” Another sigh. “...it has been way too long since I’ve had time to paint and create art that speaks my mind. I hope you understand.”

The women nodded, some left, some stayed behind and gave him a few words of encouragement, and all had disappointment written on their faces. Chanyeol prepared all that he needed to start his artwork, lifting his brush and beginning to choose a color. Most of the crowd had left after finding out that his painting business wasn’t open, but some had stayed behind, standing a good distance away to give him some personal space; however, they were still observing as the young man created his art, all expressing admiration and fondness through their facial expressions.

 

“Look at him.” Ahreum held back a laugh. “He’s doing too much. You see the way he holds the brush?”

Gong Myung brought his attention to Chanyeol’s hand. Even from a distance away, he saw the way Chanyeol held onto the brush with exactly three fingers, brushstrokes done delicately on the canvas, every line of color created meaningful streaks onto the white background.

“What about it?” he asked back.

“He’s being so overdramatic. He never holds the brush like that unless he wants to look all cool. But the strangest thing is, I think they’re falling for it.” She discreetly pointed at the women, all of which were still admiring and still standing around to view Chanyeol, none of which would have noticed Ahreum pointing at them as they were too preoccupied with the exaggerating artist.

Suddenly, something swung down from the tree Chanyeol was under. No one could have seen it coming because the tree had a lot of leaves, despite it being autumn, that concealed the branches. The something turned out to be a person, hanging midair, long dark hair pulled down by gravity. Ahreum and Gong Myung witnessed Chanyeol screech, body jerking backwards, feet tripping over something in the grass and causing for him to tumble down. Laughter erupted from Ahreum while Gong Myung was trying to register what had happened. “D-Do you see that?” he pointed at the figure hanging from the tree, not sure if it was a living person or not.

“Of course I see her. C’mon, let’s go over to them.”

“Go over? But that…”

“It’s Seul-ah. She’s the sweetest person on Earth and we both know her, so why do you look so afraid?” She grinned when seeing his frightened, yet confused expression.

“That’s Seul-ah?”

“Yes. Are you okay with going over to them now that you know who she is?”

Gong Myung slowly nodded. Ahreum smiled and grasped his arm before pulling him over to the tree.

 

“I needed a new perspective,” Seul-ah said. She was hanging midair, legs wrapped around both sides of the branch, and sketchbook held in her hand.

“What new perspective can you possibly get from hanging upside down?” Chanyeol looked at Seul-ah weirdly as he stood up.

“Many. Regular upright positions won’t allow me to see all of the space of space.”

“That makes no sense.”

“But it does.”

“...You know what, I don’t know why I even try.” He glanced back at his fangirls, and awkwardly smiled at them. They swooned, seemingly not fazed by his over-the-top reaction just previously, while he wiped away an imaginary sweat of relief. Afterwards, a paint stain, created when he fell down with his paintbrush, was discovered on his shirt. “This is my favorite shirt,” he grumbled while trying to wipe it away.

“That is a bad stain. You should use rubbing alcohol.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He raised both eyebrows at her.

The stain wouldn't go away, only smudging and taking up more space on his favorite shirt when he rubbed at it. He grumbled again, reminding himself to buy some sort of apron to wear the next time he painted. The sound of footsteps approached, and he saw Ahreum and Gong Myung walking towards him.

“Seems like you're having fun,” Ahreum laughed, remembering the image of Chanyeol’s grand reaction and fall.

Chanyeol noticed her holding onto Gong Myung’s arm, eyes turning suspicious before grinning playfully. “You seem to be having fun yourself. Are you guys already dating?”

“W-What?” Ahreum realized that he was looking at her hand on Gong Myung’s arm, making her immediately let go. “I-I was just bringing him over here. Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I was painting.” His eyes roamed up to Seul-ah, who was busy staring at her sketchbook with her supposed newfound perspective. “But I got interrupted.”

“Are you sure you were painting? It looked more like you were trying to impress those girls,” Ahreum said.

“I wasn't trying to impress them. They just were.” He ran a hand through his hair and smirked.

Ahreum pretended to gag. “Stop being so full of yourself. You're not that handsome.”

“But I am. I must be the most handsome person you've ever seen.”

Ahreum laughed hysterically, pointing at him with her thumb while turning to Gong Myung. “He thinks he's the most good-looking person in the world or something.”

Chanyeol frowned. “I am good-looking.”

“But not that good-looking.”

“What do you know about visuals? You're from the countryside, so you have no eyes for beauty.”

“That's where you are wrong. I'm not from the countryside. I'm from Daegu, and there are a lot more people there than you think.”

“You're from Daegu?” Gong Myung questioned.

“Yeah.”

“But you don't have an accent,” he pointed out.

“I'm just good at speaking like a Seoul person,” she answered before turning back to Chanyeol. “And I don't want to be arrogant or anything, but I was considered one of the idols of Daegu.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder, trying to keep on a humble expression.

“Pft!” Chanyeol forced himself to not laugh. “You? An idol of Daegu? Is everyone in Daegu that ugly?”

She glared at him, ready to kick him in revenge. “But you're in Seoul now, idol of Daegu,” he continued. “Seoul is where I, Park Chanyeol, the most good-looking person on Earth, was born. Bask in my handsome glory.” His arms raised up as he smirked. She in return, pretended to gag again.

“Oh please, I have seen way more good-looking people than you.”

“Like who?” His arms fell back to his side as he challenged her to name anyone who was more good-looking than him.

“Seul-ah.”

“Seul-ah?” He looked at the person in question. She was still busy in her own little world as her sketchbook occupied her mind, but this time she was somehow drawing on the page while remaining upside-down in midair. “Seul-ah as in Yoo Seul-ah?”

Ahreum nodded.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am not, and you know that too. Don't you remember your reaction when she first came to the dorm?”

His eyes rounded a bit. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Then I'll remind you.” She tapped Gong Myung’s shoulder. He was curiously watching Seul-ah draw, wondering how she was doing what she was doing in her current position, but his attention went back to Ahreum when she tapped him.

“Let me tell you about Chanyeol's reaction when Seul-ah first entered the dorm,” she said. “He was like—”

Chanyeol quickly covered to prevent her from going on any further. “Nope. You’re lying. That did not happen and I didn’t react that way,” he said.

Ahreum repeatedly slapped his wrist, demanding for him to let go through muffled yells. “You kind of look like you’re kidnapping her,” Gong Myung said.

“Do I?” Chanyeol warily inspected his surroundings. “Do you think that someone will try to arrest me?”

At that moment, Seul-ah accidentally dropped her sketchbook onto the ground. She then reached up to hold the branch, and released her legs from the tree. Her legs were allowed to dangle for a few seconds before she let go, landing on the ground with feet firmly planted. “Are you kidnapping Ahreum?” she asked curiously when she saw the two.

“Do I look like I’m kidnapping her?” Chanyeol asked back.

“Yes,” Seul-ah replied while picking up her sketchbook.

“Well I’m not kidnapping her. She’s spreading false rumors about me, so I’m simply preventing the spreading of false rumors that will harm my reputation and image.”

“I was not spreading false rumors about you!” Ahreum attempted to yell, though it came out too muffled for anyone to understand.

“I think what you’re doing now is more damaging to your reputation and image,” Gong Myung said.

“I agree full heartedly. No one thinks nicely of a kidnapper,” Seul-ah added, dusting off her sketchbook from the dirt it got from touching the ground.

After hearing that, Chanyeol gave in. “Fine. I’ll let go of her,” he replied, doing as he said. As soon as Ahreum was freed, she swiveled around and slapped Chanyeol on the arm, the sound coming from the slap resonating through the campus. “Ow!” he shouted.

“That’s what you get,” Ahreum said. She then ran over to Seul-ah to get a safe distance away from Chanyeol. “But regarding what I was saying earlier…” Ahreum’s eyes glinted mischievousness, mouth ready to continue the spillage of what she was talking about before Chanyeol stopped her.

“Don’t you dare,” Chanyeol said. He picked up his largest paintbrush, submerged it in paint, and held it threateningly at her.

Ahreum stared at the paintbrush, then at her outfit, then at the paintbrush again. “You wouldn’t…”

“You think I wouldn’t?”

“Guys.” Gong Myung stepped between them, holding out a hand of peace. “Let’s not do this.”

“Tell that to her,” Chanyeol said.

“Tell that to him,” Ahreum said.

“You started it,” Chanyeol continued.

“No, you started it,” Ahreum retorted.

The two bickered, Chanyeol still holding his paintbrush out as a threat, Gong Myung still standing in between them with a hand of peace—in which was ignored. “Hey look…” Something in the ground caught Seul-ah’s eyes. She bent down to gently pick the creature up before standing and presenting them to her fellow dormmates. “This looks like Yeol.” She gazed at the frightened creature, and it—somehow—seemed to have relaxed at the sight of her. “I’ll call him Yeollie.”

Chanyeol instantly abandoned his paintbrush, throwing it onto the ground, and jumping behind his easel to hide behind it. “Stop naming those things after me!” he yelled.

Ahreum took multiple large steps away from Seul-ah. “I forgot… I need to go practice my lines,” she said before bolting away from the scene.

Chanyeol watched as Ahreum easily extracted herself from the situation. He then looked down at his easel, tried to pick it up, but it was hard to do as he didn’t want to mess up his canvas or deal with more paint staining more of his favorite shirt. He didn't have the heart to run away without his precious easel; therefore, he was stuck. “Don’t come over here. I’m painting. Let me paint.” He fumbled around to get a paintbrush in his hands to make his statement more convincing.

“Would you like to paint Yeollie? I think he would look nice in your painting,” she suggested before noticing something. “Oh, I apologize. She. She would look nice in your painting.”

“I don’t want to paint that thing, so get it out of my sight,” Chanyeol said.

“Poor Yeollie. He refuses, so you will have to go. I hope you find someone who will be willing to paint you.” Seul-ah crouched down, preparing to release Yeollie back into the wild.

Chanyeol turned to Gong Myung. “Can you believe that I’ve lived with this for over a year?”

Seul-ah’s ear twitched. “I believe that an insult was directed at me.”

“I was talking about the bugs that keep coming into the dorm. Go back to talking to your grasshopper. It needs to go back to where it came from,” Chanyeol said.

Afterwards, Gong Myung went over to Chanyeol’s painting, asking in confusion, “What is this anyway?”

“Oh, this? Well, I haven’t finished it yet,” Chanyeol said, smiling from seeing someone taking an interest in his art. “I usually go for a realistic feel in my art, with a touch of delicacy, but also a hint of boldness at the same time. This time, however, I’m trying something new and leaning more towards abstract.”

“Ah…” Gong Myung nodded, pretending to understand.

“You see this line here? The red is resembling my anguish at the world and the people who live on it. The roundness and the curving of the line represents how I’m bouncing back and forth between wanting to see the good in the world and giving up on seeing it because all I can see is the bad, cruel nature of humans, especially pigs. Pig-like mana—I mean people, are the worst. ”

Chanyeol rambled on about each aspect of his unfinished painting and its meaning. Gong Myung berated himself for getting into yet another situation where he was involuntarily listening to someone without knowing how to get out of it. That was when he was reminded that Seul-ah was still there. He turned to her in hopes of her possibly helping him, but she was crouched down, busy staring at something on the ground with a sketchbook balancing on her head while a water bottle stood on top of the sketchbook.

The sight of it was strange itself, but what was even stranger was the appearance of a water bottle that he didn’t see her having before. After some time and a million words from Chanyeol later, Gong Myung made eye-contact with her. His eyes pleaded for help. She blinked. Then looked back down to examine the grass again. Gong Myung’s shoulders slumped as his mind wondered if she was deliberately ignoring his pleas or if she was just bad at reading his expression.

Chanyeol wouldn’t stop, moving pass explaining his art and going on about a random story involving his pet rabbit. At the 1,000 minute mark—or what seemed like a thousand minutes—Gong Myung took out his phone and texted Seul-ah for help. The action wasn’t discreet or inconspicuous since he wanted Chanyeol to clearly see that he was not interested in listening any longer. Chanyeol, unfortunately, was oblivious.

Gong Myung glimpsed at Seul-ah. Her phone was on the ground beside her, but she paid it no attention. Then he recalled that she wasn’t the type to immediately read a text or even answer after reading if she didn’t feel like it. At that point, he had given up. There wasn’t going to be a way out of it. There weren’t any options left for him to try. The only option left was to face reality and listen for who knows how long.

“You’re rambling on too much,” Seul-ah suddenly said. As if a miracle was bestowed upon Gong Myung, Chanyeol stopped telling his pet rabbit story. They both turned to Seul-ah, who had her phone in hand, screen displaying Gong Myung’s text message that was too far for Chanyeol to see clearly.

“What are you talking about now?” Chanyeol said.

“You. Gong Pal doesn’t want to listen to you anymore. He’s bored.”

Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Gong Myung questionably. “You’re bored?”

“Uh…” Gong Myung didn’t know how to answer. There wasn’t an ounce in him that believed Seul-ah would have read his text in time to save him from Chanyeol’s rambling, but he was proved to be wrong. Not only was that unexpected, but so was being put on the spot by Chanyeol at that very moment. He truly had no clue how to answer.

“And I rambled on too much?” Chanyeol raised his brows as he continued to question Gong Myung.

“Uh…” Gong Myung let out a breath. “Yeah, you kind of do.”

“Then why didn’t you say that earlier? I would have stopped,” Chanyeol said, no hostility nor negative emotion in his tone.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not everyone can understand me when I use artistic jargon. Of course you would’ve been bored since you wouldn’t understand how artists talk.” Chanyeol placed a hand on Gong Myung’s shoulder. “Next time, just tell the truth. I’ll understand. And if you need me to elaborate more on what I’m saying, go ahead and tell me. I’ll be more than glad to.”

“Uh…” Gong Myung, once again, did not know how to answer.

 

---

 

“Hey!” A hand on Ahreum’s shoulder abruptly woke her, script beginning to slip onto the ground, but she luckily caught it after a flailing showcase. “Oh, you’re done filming your part?” She pretended the catching of her script never happened and played it off cooly.

“Yeah, but I had only one line.” Nahyun sighed and took a seat in the chair next to Ahreum. “At least I got to watch Oh Sehun’s acting up close.”

Ahreum watched her amusedly as Nahyun continued to giggle in a lovestruck manner. “Why do you call him Oh Sehun? I know you call him oppa off set.”

“That’s different from being on set. On set I have to remain professional… and what if he hears me calling him oppa? Do you think he’ll be weirded out?”

“I think he’ll be used to it. He has like a million fans after all.”

“He doesn’t have that many fans. He has over a million. Like probably a trillion or a gazillion.”

Ahreum laughed and shook her head. She then went back to looking over her script and rereading her lines. As it was the first time she had ever had such a large role of being the friend of the main character, she was going to put in her entirety in order to be perfect when acting on screen.

However, it proved to be a difficult task. Her eyes repeatedly opened and shut, bouncing back and forth between drowsiness and being alert. It was late at night for the current filming, each filming day growing longer in hours, and she was sleepy. But allowing that to get in the way of her acting was not an option. She wanted to do well, and she was going to do well.

“Ahreum!”

“Huh?” Her head jerked back up after hearing her name.

“You fell asleep again,” Nahyun said. “I think you should take a nap. You look extremely tired.”

“No, I’m fine. My scene is coming up soon and I have to prepare for it.”

“Is it the scene where you act with Oh Sehun?” After Ahreum nodded, Nahyun gave her a jealous pout. “You’re so lucky. You get to be his love interest.”

“I know right. Never in my life would I ever imagine being a love interest for an EXO member. Back in highschool when I went to my first and last EXO fan meeting, I met Sehun in person for the first time. If I told me from back then that I would be where I am now and acting with him, the me from back then would have never believed it.”

“You got to go to an EXO fanmeeting?” Nahyun asked in surprise. “How did you get a ticket? I never got to go to one. The tickets always sell out too quickly, and even if I buy ten albums I won’t win the raffle.”

“I tried the raffle thing too. In Seoul, I never won anything and I barely have any money since, you know, University, so I can’t buy more than two albums. But I had a friend who bought sixteen albums and still did not win a ticket. But the fanmeeting that I told you I went to, also had a raffle. I bought two albums because my sister was lazy and told me to buy it since I was going there to buy one anyway, so I did.

“And it turned out that I won the raffle. Ohh, you should have seen the big rock-paper-scissors fight I had with my sister. I won by the way, but I felt like I couldn’t hear properly for a week because my sister kept screaming during the rock-paper-scissors match. But anyway, that fanmeet was in Daegu so I guess there weren’t as many people to compete with when compared with Seoul.”

“Daegu? Do I have to go all the way to Daegu to go to an EXO fanmeet?”

“Well, you’re acting with your Oh Sehun oppa now. Isn’t that better than attending a fanmeet?”

“I’m really happy that I’m breathing the same air as him and everything, but I haven’t said anything to him since that time we gave him the lunchbox. Whenever I see him I get all nervous and I can’t say anything. I’m mad at myself because of that.”

“I have to practice my lines with him a lot since we’re, you know, love interests. So do you want to accompany me when we do that?”

“Nah. I feel like I’m disrupting him. I think I’ll just watch from afar.”

“You’re going to regret it when the drama ends.”

“I know,” Nahyun said with a sad sigh.

The director started calling the actors for the next scene, which only consisted of Ahreum and Sehun. “It’s my turn now.” Ahreum stood up and wiggled her limbs to shake off her nerves.

“Good luck!” Nahyun said.

Ahreum gave her a nod and walked towards the filming area, script opened and in hand as she reread it one last time. “Oh, sorry,” she said when she accidentally bumped into someone.

“It’s okay,” Sehun said. “Um, hey… I heard that you go to Seoul University of the Arts.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“That’s a nice school.”

“Yeah, I know. I still wonder how I got in,” she said with a laugh. Sehun nodded, showing no reaction with no expression on his face, before turning his attention to the director.

“Boyeon!” The director exclaimed as he pointed a finger at her.

“It’s not Boyeon, sir. It’s Ahreum. Im Ahreum,” she corrected.

“Right. Anyway, we’re not using that script anymore so…” He grabbed her script and threw it behind his back, giving her another one afterwards. “We’re using this one now.” He gave another one to Sehun. “The previous script was lacking, so the writers made a last minute change.”

“Change?” she questioned in quite a disbelieving state while flipping through the new script.

“Yes. Good change. I’ll give both of you five minutes to rehearse before we start. Okay?” The director didn’t wait for an answer before walking away.

“There’s no way five minutes is enough,” she mumbled. A feeling of frustration grew in her when she saw how different the new script was from the old one. Days and hours were spent on memorizing the lines for the previous script, but the effort put into it was in vain as she had to start over again. “Um, do you want to rehearse together real quick?” she said to Sehun without looking up from the script.

“Sure.” He showed slight hesitance when answering, most likely because he got to the part where his character was apparently going to get slapped, but Ahreum didn’t see it since she was busy learning her lines.

“Okay, um… how could you do that?” she started to read. Sehun started acting also, putting on a cold pokerface and turning away like the script instructed. “Why are you ignoring me? Yah! Ha Seon-il!”

“What?” He turned around with an annoyed expression, yet his eyes were still roaming over the words in the script.

“Why is there—oh wait, um, I think I’m reading the wrong line. Sorry. Um… oh. Should we just start right here where it says that I slap you?”

“Why do we have to start with that?”

“Because I think it’s best to do it perfectly the first time so that you won’t get slapped more than once.”

Sehun nodded. The two continued to rehearse, putting emphasis on what both of them were going to do to make the slap scene as realistic as possible and finish filming the scene in one shot. “Are you two ready? We’re starting.” The director came back, an apple in hand, and mouth chewing an apple piece while talking to them.

“Um, uh… I think—”

“So we’re good? Let’s start.” The director settled into his directing seat. “And… action!”

“Um… how could yo—”

“Cut! Boyeon, nowhere in the script does it say, ‘Um.’ Let’s do it again.” She nodded without bothering to correct him regarding her name. “Take 2. And… action!”

Ahreum readied herself before starting to say her lines. The scene went on smoothly, and she somehow didn’t say her lines incorrectly. When it got around to the part where she had to slap Sehun, she brought her hand up before rushing it down towards his cheek. A loud, slapping sound resonated through the studio, making her feel apologetic as soon as she heard it, but the two reached an agreement beforehand that she could do it as hard as necessary in order to finish the scene up quickly. As long as they could finish it on the second take, she would feel less sorry.

“You’re an idiot! You’re such a bad person,” Ahreum said the last lines.

“And cut! Okay, so that was great. You really put your all into that slap and it turned out great,” the director started, “but you got the lines wrong in the end. Let’s redo it.”

“W-What? I got it wrong?”

“That’s why we’re doing it again. From the top! And… action!”

Ahreum turned to Sehun apologetically before beginning to say her lines. Slap! “You’re an idiot! You’re a bad person!”

“Cut!” The director leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “Boyeon, are the lines that hard? Why are you getting it wrong the second time?”

“In what way did I say it wrong?”

“Read your script. I’m giving you one minute to do that.”

“But—” Ahreum sighed. “Yes, director.” She then turned to Sehun and gave him a sincere apology and a deep bow.

Exactly one minute passed when the director said, “Let’s start from the top again. And… action!”

Slap! “NG!” “NG!” Slap! “NG!” Slap! “NG!” “NG!” “NG!”

“Are you sure that you go to Seoul University of the Arts?” the director asked her, clearly annoyed and impatient by the fiftieth NG.

“Yes, sir,” she weakly replied.

“Then why do you keep getting your lines wrong? And what was that last slap? You’re supposed to be angry. Angry! Not sad. Let’s try again.”

“Yes, director. I’m sorry, director.” She was tired by then, but all she could do was agree with him. He was the director after all, and she wasn’t even the main actress. She looked over to Sehun, who had a makeup artist hiding the red mark forming on his cheek using makeup. “I’m sorry,” Ahreum said to him.

“It’s okay,” he replied, expressionless.

The filming went on again, and they arrived at the painful and guilt-ridden part of the scene. Slap! “You’re such a—”

“No, no, no! That’s the wrong line! What is wrong with you? How many times do we have to do this before you can remember just one stupid line?!”

“I-I’m sorry, director.”

The director inhaled slowly. Then exhaled slowly. “Let’s do this one more time. I’ll give you three minutes. That’s it. We don’t have time for another NG, so do it correctly.”

“Yes, sir.”

The director got up from his seat, muttering something that sounded like, “Seoul University of the Arts is a lie,” and walked off to get a snack. Ahreum reread through the same lines she had been failing to get right over and over again. The lines weren’t that hard and she had it mostly memorized by the third take, but the director was nitpicky and couldn’t stand even a one word difference in the lines. It was also getting harder for Ahreum to express the correct emotions after going through numerous takes, which was very bad in the eyes of the fussy director.

“I am so, so sorry,” she said to Sehun. Sehun was the source of only six NGs, meaning that she was responsible for the rest of the forty-five. She didn’t understand how he was able to say his lines perfectly fine throughout the majority of their takes, but then she remembered that she had more lines than him.

“It’s alright. Just look over your lines again.”

She nodded, tears starting to form in her eyes from being flustered, disheartened, and yelled at. When the tears welled up too much, she tried to discreetly wipe them away by pretending to have an eye itch. “Hey,” Sehun called. “You’re doing fine. The director is just too uptight.”

Ahreum nodded without looking up. Sehun took out something from his pocket before handing it to her. “Do you like chocolate?” he asked before putting it into her hand. “It may be melted, but it tastes good. A fan gave it to me.”

She stared at the chocolate, mustering a, “Thank you.”

Sehun was the one nodding this time while she went back to reading her lines, determined to get the scene done with on the sixty-second take.

---

A/N: Sorry Sehun.