Jungsoo stood by the wide expanse of window in Siwon’s office and watched Seoul hustle by.  From that height, he felt removed from it, and the rush and energy radiating up from the streets and sidewalks.  He was satisfied to be separate.  Connections equalled involvement.

None of the actresses they’d auditioned in the past two weeks came close to what he was after.  He knew what he wanted for the part of Hyori – who better?

When he’d first started the script it had been an impulse – therapy, he mused with a grim smile.  Cheaper than a psychiatrist and a lot more satisfying.  He’d never expected to do any more than finish it, purge his system and toss it in a drawer.  That was before he’d realized it was the best work he’d ever done.  Perhaps anger was the tenth Muse.  In any case, he was first and foremost a writer.  However painful it was to expose himself and his mistakes to the public, there was no tossing his finest work in a drawer.  And since he was going to have it performed, he was going to have it performed well.

He’d thought it would be difficult to cast the part of Hyun Shik, the character who was essentially himself.  And yet that had been surprisingly simple.  The core of the story was Hyun Shik, but Hyori, a devastatingly accurate mirror of his ex-wife, Kwon Yuri.  A superb actress, a gracious celebrity – a woman without a single genuine emotion.

Their marriage had started with a whirlwind and ended in disaster.  Jungsoo didn’t consider himself blameless, though he placed most of the blame on his own gullibility.  He’d believed in her image, fallen hard for the perfection of face and body.  He could have forgiven the faults, the flaws soon discovered.  But he could never, would never, forgive being used.  And yet, Jungsoo was still far from sure whether he blamed Yuri for using him, or himself for allowing it to happen.

Either way, the tempestuous three-year marriage had given him grist for a clean, hard story that was going to be an elaborate television movie.  And more, it had given him a firm distrust of women, particularly actresses.  A year before, he’d promised himself that he’d never become involved with another woman who could play roles that well.   Honesty, if it truly existed, was what he’d look for when he was ready.

His thoughts came back to Sora.   Perhaps she was centered in his mind because of her surface resemblance to Yuri, but he wasn’t certain.  There was no similarity in mannerisms, voice cadence or style of dress.  And the biggest contrast seemed to be in the personality.  She hadn’t put herself out to charm him or to hold his attention.  And she’d done both.  Perhaps she’d simply used a different angle on an old game.

While he hadn’t trusted it, he’d enjoyed her lack of artifice.  The breezy laugh, the unaffected gestures, the candid looks.  It had been a long time since a woman had lingered in his mind.  A pity, Jungsoo mused, that she was unsuitable for the part.  He could have used the distraction.  Instinct told him that Kang Sora would be nothing if she wasn’t a distraction.

“I’m still leaning toward this Moon Chae Won.”  Kim Ryeowook, the director, tossed an eight-by-ten glossy on Siwon’s desk.  “A lot of camera presence, and her first reading was very good.”

With the photo in one hand, Siwon tipped back in his deep leather chair.  The sun at his back streamed over both the glossy and the Longines he wore on either hand.  “An impressive list of credits too.”

“No..” Jungsoo didn’t bother to turn around, but stood watching the traffic stream.  “She lacks the elegance.  Too much vulnerability.”

“She can act, hyung.” Siwon said with a now familiar show of impatience.

“She’s not the one.”

Siwon swore lightly under his breath.  “And we’re running out of time and options.”

Jungsoo gave an unconcerned shrug.

When the buzzer on his desk rang, Siwon heaved a sigh and leaned forward to answer.  “Kang Sora ssi is here for her reading, sajangnim.”

“Send her in.”

“Kang Sora ,” Ryeowook mused. “Oh yeah, I saw her last summer in a theatre production of Sseoni.”

Vaguely interested, Jungsoo looked over his shoulder.  “Im Nami?”

“Chun Hwa,” Ryeowook corrected, skimming over her list of credits.

“Ha Chun Hwa?” Jungsoo gave a short laugh as he turned completely around.  “She’s too soft for that strong character.”

Ryeowook merely lifted his eys.  “She was good,” he said simply.  “Very good.  And for what I’m told, she very good on the soap.  I don’t have to tell you how many of our top stars started that way.”

“No, you don’t.”  Jungsoo sat negligently on the arm of a chair.  “But if she’s stuck with the same part for two years, she’s either not good enough for a major film or major theatre, or she’s completely without ambition.  Because she’s an actress, I’d have to go with the former.”

“Keep sharpening your cynicism, hyung.” Siwon said dryly.  “It’s good for you.”

Jungsoo’s grin flashed – that rare one that came and went so quickly it left the onlooker dazzled and unsure why.  Sora caught a glimpse of it as she entered the room.  It went a long way toward convincing her to change her initial opinion of him.  It pass through her mind, almost as quickly as his grin, that perhaps he had some redeeming personal qualities after all.  She was always ready to believe it.

“Kang Sora ssi.”  Siwon got up from the chair and extended his hand.

“Choi Siwon ssi, nice to see you again.”  She took a brief scan of the room, her gaze lingering only fleetingly on Jungsoo as he remained seated on the arm of the chair.  “Your office is just as impressive as your home.”

Jungsoo waited while she was introduced to Ryeowook.  She’d dressed very simply, he noticed.  Her hair was loose again, giving her an air of youth and freedom he would never equate with the character she wanted to portray.

“Jungsoo ssi,” Sora gave him an easy smile. 

She wore the same carelessly y scent he’d noticed the night of the party.  Jungsoo wondered why it was that it suited her while contrasting at the same time.  She fascinated.  It seemed to be something she did effortlessly.  “I’m going to cue you,” he continued and reached for a copy of the script.  “We’ll use the confrontation scene in the third act.  You’re familiar with it?”

All business, Sora noted curiously.  Does he ever relax?  Does he ever choose to?  Though she was rarely tense herself, she recognized tension in him and wondered why he was nervous.  What nerves she felt herself were confined to a tiny roiling knot in the center of her stomach.

“I’m familiar with it.” She told him, accepting another copy of the script.

Now her palms were damp.  Good.  Sora knew better than to want to be relaxed when twinges of emotions would sharpen her skills.  Taking deep, quiet breaths she flipped through the bound script until she found the right scene.  It wasn’t a simple one.  It stabbed at the core of the character – selfish ambition and icy .  She took a minute.

Jungsoo watched her.  She looked more like the guileless ingénue than the calculating leading lady, he mused and was almost sorry there wasn’t a part of her in the film.  Then she looked up and pinned him with a cold, bloodless smile that completely stunned him.

“You always were a fool, Hyun Shik ah, but a successful one and so rarely boring, it’s hardly worth mentioning.”

The tone, the mannerisms, even the expression was so accurate, he couldn’t respond.  For a moment, he completely lost Kang Sora in the character and the woman he’d fashioned her after.  He felt a twist in his stomach, not of attraction or even admiration, but of anger – totally unexpected but vilely real.  Jungsoo didn’t have to look at the script to remember the line.

“You’re so transparent, Hyori.  It amazes me that you could deceive anyone into believing in you.”

Sora laughed, rather beautifully, so that all three men felt a chill race up their spine.  “I make my living at deception.  Everyone wants illusions, so did you.  And that’s what you got.”

With a long, lazy stretch, she ran a hand through her hair, then let it fall, pale auburn in the late-morning sunlight.  It was one of Kwon Yuri’s patented gestures.  “I’ve acted my way right up to the top.  You were a great help.”  She walked over to him with a small, cool smile still on her lips, in her eyes.  With an eloquent gesture, she brushed her hand down his cheek.  “And you were compensated. Very, very well.”

Jungsoo grabbed her wrist and tossed it aside.  Sora merely lifted a brow at the violence of the movement.  “Sooner or later you’re going to slip,” he threatened.

She tilted her head and spoke very softly.  “Darling, I never slip.”

Slowly, Jungsoo rose.  The expression on his face might have had any woman trembling, would have had any woman making some defensive move.  Sora merely looked up at him with the same coldly amused expression.  It was he who had to force himself to calm.

“Very good, Kang Sora ssi.”  Jungsoo tossed the script aside.

She grinned, because every instinct told her she’d won.  With the long expelled breath, she could almost feel Hyori drain out of her.  “Thanks, It’s a tremendous part,” she added as her stomach unknotted.  “Really a tremendous part.”

“You’ve done your research,” Siwon murmured from behind his desk.  Because he knew Kwon Yuri, Sora’s five-minute read had left him uncomfortable and impressed.  And he knew Jungsoo.  There was little doubt in his mind as to what Hyori’s creator was feeling.  “You’ll be available for a callback?”

“Of course.”

“I saw your Ha Chun Hwa, Kang Sora ssi,” Ryeowook put in. “I was very impressed then, and now.”

She flashed him an unaffected smile though she was aware Jungsoo was still staring at her.  If he was moved, she thought, then the reading had gone better than she could have hoped.  “It was my biggest challenge, up until now.”  She wanted to get out, walk, breathe the air, savor the almost-victory while she could.  “Well, thank you.”  She pushed her hair from her shoulder as she scanned the three men again.  “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

Sora walked toward the elevator too frightened to believe she was right, too terrified to believe she was wrong.  Up until that moment, she hadn’t let herself dwell on just how much she wanted the part, and just what it could mean in her life.

* * * * *

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