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It was going to be hard work, with long days, short nights and constant demands on both the body and the mind.  Sora was going to love every minute of it.

The producers of the soap were cooperating fully with Siwon – the network strategy was to everyone’s advantage.  The word, the big word, was always ratings. But it was Sora who had to squeeze in the time for both projects, and Sora who had to learn hundreds of pages of script as Kim Yejin and as Shin Hyori.

The idea of eighteen-hour days and 5:00 a.m. calls couldn’t dull her enthusiasm.  The pace, merciless as it was, was almost natural to her in any case.  And it helped keep her mind off the custody trial, which was set for the following month.

And there was Park Jungsooo.  Even the idea of working with him excited her.  The daily contact would be stimulating.  The professional competition and cooperation would keep her sharp.  The preproduction stages had shown her that Jungsoo would be as intimately involved with the film as any member of the cast and crew – and that he had unquestioned authority.

Throughout the sometimes hysterical meetings, he had remained calm and has said little.  But when he spoke, he was rarely questioned.  It wasn’t a matter of arrogance or overbearing, as Sora saw it.  Park Jungsoo simply didn’t comment unless he knew he was right.

Perhaps, if it was meant to be, they’d move closer to each other as the film progressed.  Emotion.  It was what she wanted to give him, and what she needed from him.  Time.  She knew it was a major factor in whatever happened between them.  Trust.  This above all was needed – and this, above all, was missing.

There were times during the preproduction stages of the filming that Sora felt Jungsoo watching her too objectively, and distancing himself from her too successfully.

Sora found herself at an impasse. The more skilfully she played Hyori, the firmly Jungsoo stepped back from her.  She understood it, and was helpless to change it.

The set was elegant, the lighting low and seductive. Across a small rococo table, Hyori and Hyun Shik shared lobster bisque and champagne. Sora’s costume was clinging midnight silk.  Diamonds and sapphires winked at her ears and throat.  An armed guard in the studio attested to the fact that paste wasn’t used on a Siwon production.

The intimate late-night supper was actually taking place at 8:00 a.m. in the presence of a full crew.  Sipping lukewarm ginger ale from a tulip glass, Sora gave a husky laugh and leaned closer to Choi Tae Joon.

She knew what was needed here – , raw and primitive under a thin sheen of sophistication.  It would have to leap onto the screen with a gesture, a look, a smile, rather than through dialogue.  She was playing a role within a role.  Hyori was her character, and Hyori was never without a mask.  Tonight, she would project warmth, a soft femininity that was no more than a façade.  It was Sora’s job to show both this, and the skill with which Hyori played the part.  If the actress Sora portrayed wasn’t clever, the impact on the character of Hyun Shik would waver.  The connection between the two was vital.  They fed each other, and by doing so, the entire story.

Hyori wanted Hyun Shik, and the viewer had to know that she wanted him physically nearly as much as she wanted the connections he could bring her professionally.  To win him, she had to be what he wanted.  Ambition and skill were a deadly combination when added to beauty.  Hyori had all three and the capacity to use them.  It was Sora’s job to show the duality of her nature, but to show it subtly.

The scene would end in the bedroom; that portion of the film would be shot at a different time.  Now, the tension and the uality had to be heightened to a point where both Hyun Shik and the audience were completely seduced.

Ryeowook ran a hand over the back of his neck and lapsed into silence.  Both the actors and crew recognized the gesture from their director and remained silent and alert.  The scene wasn’t pleasing him, and he was working out why.  Keyed up, Sora didn’t allow the tension to drain out of her.  She needed the nerves to maintain the image of Hyori.  The sight of the ginger ale and the scent of the food in front of her made her stomach roll uneasily.  They were already on the fourth take.  Objectively, she watched her glass being refilled, her plate replaced.  When this was over, she thought, she’d never even look at a glass of ginger ale again.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?”

Glancing over, Sora saw Choi Tae Joon grimace at her.  She locked Hyori in a compartment of her brain before she grinned at him.  “I’ve never wanted a cup of coffee and a bagel so much in my life.”

“Please.  Don’t mention real food.”

“More feline,” Ryeowook said abruptly and focused on Sora.  “That’s how I see Hyori – a sleek black cat with manicured claws.”

Sora smiled at the image.  Yes, that was Hyori.

“When you say the line, ‘One night won’t be enough, you make me greedy,’ you should practically purr it.”

Sora nodded while she flexed her hands.  Yes, Hyori would purr that line, while she calculated every angle.  Sora had a mental image of a cat – glossy, seductive and just this side of evil.

Just before the clapper was struck for the next take, Sora caught Jungsoo’s eye.  He was frowning at her while he stood off camera.  Though his hands were casually in his pockets and his expression was still and calm, she sensed the wall of tension around him.  Unable to break it down, she used it and the eye contact to pull herself back into character.

As the scene unfolded, she forgot the flat, warm taste of the ginger ale, forgot the intrusion of cameras and crew.  Her attention was completely focused on the man across from her, who was no longer a fellow actor but an intended victim.  She smiled at something he said, a smile Jungsoo recognized too well.  Seductive as black lace, cold as ice.  There wasn’t a man alive who would be immune to it.

When she reached the line Ryeowook had focused on, Sora paused a beat, dipping her fingertip into Tae Joon’s glass, then slowly touched the dampened skin to , then his.  The seductive ad lib had the temperature on the soaring.  Even while he mentally approved the gesture and Sora’s intuition, Jungsoo felt his stomach muscles tighten.

She knew her character, he mused, almost as well as he did himself.  So well, it was always an effort to separate them in his mind.  This attraction that plagued him –at whom was it directed?  That surge of jealousy he felt unexpectedly when the woman on set melted into another man’s arms – for whom did he really feel it?  He’d entwined reality and fiction so tightly in this script, then had chosen an actress skilled enough to blur those lines.  Now, he found himself trapped between fiction and fact.  Was the woman he wanted the shadow or the light?

“Cut! Cut and print! Fantastic.”  Grinning from ear to ear, Ryeowook walked over and kissed both Sora and Tae Joon.  “We’re lucky the camera didn’t overload on that scene.”

Tae Joon flashed a white-toothed smile.  “You’re lucky I didn’t.  You’re damn good.” Tae Joon laid a hand on Sora’s shoulder.  “So damn good I’m going to have a cup of coffee.”

“Ten minutes,” Ryeowook announced.  “Set up for reaction shots.  Jungsoo, what’d you think?”

“Excellent.”  With his eyes on Sora, Jungsoo walked toward them. There was nothing of the cat about her now.  If anything, she looked a bit weary.  He found that while the knot in his stomach had loosened, he had to fight the urge to her cheek.  Jungsoo was more accustomed to the first sensation.  “You look like you could use some coffee yourself.”

“Yeah.” Again, Sora forced herself to lock Hyori’s personality away.  She wanted nothing more than to relax completely, but knew she could only allow herself a few degrees. “You buying?”

Nodding, he led her off set where a catering table was already set up with coffee, doughnuts and danishes.  Sora’s stomach revolted at the thought of food, but she took the steaming Styrofoam cup in both hands.

“This schedule’s difficult,” Jungsoo commented.

“Mmm.” She shrugged that off and let the coffee wash away the aftertaste of ginger ale. “No, the schedule’s no tighter than the soap’s – lighter in some ways.  The scene was difficult.”

He lifted a brow. “Why?”

The scent of the coffee was real and solid.  Sora could almost forget the spongy food she had to nibble on for the past two hours.  “Because Hyun Shik’s smart and cautious – not an easy man to seduce or to fool. Hyori has to do both, and she’s in a hurry.”  She glanced over the rim of her cup.  “But then, you know that.”

“Yes.”  He took her wrist before she could drink again. “You look tired.”

“Only between takes.”  She smiled, touched by the reluctant concern.  “Don’t worry about me, Jungsoo ssi. Frantic’s my natural pace.”

She thought of Young Jae.  It’s not supposed to show, she reminded herself.  The minute you walk into the studio, it’s not supposed to show.  “You’re perceptive,” she murmured.  “A writer’s first tool.”

“You’re stalling.”

Sora shook her head.  If she thought about it now, too deeply, her control would begin to slip.  “It’s something I have to deal with.  It won’t interfere with my work.”

He took her chin firmly into his hand.  “Does anything?”

For the first time, Sora felt a threat of pure anger run through her.  “Don’t confuse me with a role, Jungsoo ssi – or another woman.”  She pushed his hand away, then turning her back on him, walked back onto the set.

The temper pleased him, perhaps because it was easier to trust negative emotions.  Leaning back against the wall, Jungsoo made a decision.  He was going to have her – tonight.  It would ease a portion of the tension in him and alleviate the wondering.  Then both of them, in their own way, would have to deal with the consequences.

Sora found the anger was an advantage.  Hyori, she mused, was a woman who had anger simmering just below the surface at all times.  It added to the discontent, and the ambition.  Instead of trying to rid herself of it – something she wasn’t certain she could do in any case, Sora used it to add more depth to an already complicated character.  As long as she clung to Hyori’s mercurial, demanding personality, she didn’t feel her own weariness or frustrations.

True, her senses were keen enough so that she knew exactly where Jungsoo was and where his attention was focused even when she was in the middle of a scene.  That was something to be dealt with later.  The more he pushed at her – mentally, emotionally – the more she was determined to give a stellar performance.

By six and wrap time, Sora discovered that Hyori had drained her.  Her body ached from the hours of standing under the lights.  Her mind reeled from the repetition of lines, the drawing and releasing of emotions.  It was only the first week of filming, and already she felt the strain of the marathon.

Nobody said it would be easy, Sora reminded herself as she slipped into her dressing room to change into her street clothes.  And it wouldn’t be nearly so important if it were.  The trouble was, she was beginning to equate her success in the part with her success in her relationship with Jungsoo.  If she could pull one off, she could do the same with the other.

Shaking her head, Sora stripped out of her costume, shedding Hyori as eagerly as she did the silk.  An idea like that, she reminded herself, had a very large trapdoor.  Hyori was a part to be acted, no matter how entangled it was with reality.  Jungsoo was real life – her life.  No matter how willing she was to take risks or accept a challenge, that was something she couldn’t afford to forget.

Gratefully, Sora creamed off her stage make-up and let her skin breathe.  She sat, propping her feet on her dressing table so that the short kimono she wore skimmed her thighs.  Taking her time, letting herself calm down, she undid the sleek knot the hairdresser had arranged and let her hair fall free.  With a contented sigh, Sora tipped her head back, shut her eyes and fell into a half doze.

That was how Jungsoo found her.

The room was cluttered in her usual fashion so that she seemed to a single island of calm.  The air was assaulted with scents – powder, face cream, the same potpourri just hinting of lilac that she kept at home, the lights around her mirror were glaring.  Her breathing was soft and even.

As he shut the door behind him, Jungsoo let his gaze run up the long slender length of her legs, exposed from toe to thigh.  The kimono was loosely, almost carelessly knotted, so that it gaped intriguingly down the center of her body nearly to the waist.  Her hair fell behind the chair, mussed from her own hands so that the curve of neck and shoulder made an elegant contrast.

Her face seemed a bit pale without the color needed for the camera… fragile.  Without it, the faintest of shadows could be seen under her eyes.

Jungsoo wanted almost painfully to possess her, just she was at that moment.  With hardly a thought as to what he was doing, he turned the lock on the door.  He sat on the arm of a chair and waited.

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First of all, I apologize for not updating for so long. I'm always tired from work. Fufufu~ I hope you can still follow the storyline. Hoping it gets better too. Hihihi~ See you next update ^_^