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Assistant: Title: Imaginary Truths
        Author: fantacination Mythril 
        Chapter: 1/15 
        Summary: "This is also a story."
  In an industry where fame is the name of the game, Kim Dokja stubbornly insists on flying under the radar, fading into the background credits of each production like a thief after a daring heist. Unfortunately for him, fate, life, and his fellow actors and friends conspire against his quiet dreaming.
        Contents: Chapter 1
    

    


      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    
  “We’re really sorry about this, it seems that Min Jiwon-nim got caught up in an incident at the airport,” her manager, a young man with a round face, apologized profusely, bowing low. 
 
  Behind him, the set was bustling as crew members continued to tweak lights and details, laying out extension cables for equipment and adjusting angles for cameras. Their work was brisk and efficient, but not unduly hurried. Min Jiwon’s ‘incident’ was trending all over social media for the past hour. Without the leading lady, filming the key scenes for today would have to wait. 
 
  The director scratched his scraggly beard and sighed. “Forget it. Apologize to Joonghyuk-ssi, instead. For now, we’ll proceed with the minor characters’ scenes first.” 
 
  The rest of the cast had been ready since earlier that morning and now waited around the set, chatting idly or focusing on the script.
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk, in contrast, stood directly in front of the director, powerful arms folded as he glowered. Even standing, his presence drew the eye, as though the light was drawn to only him.
 
  “Of-- of course, my sincerest apologies, Joonghyuk-nim, we planned to get out discreetly, but it seems one of the fans got a little over-excited…” The man wilted visibly under the unimpressed look Yoo Joonghyuk gave him. 
 
  Bi-hyung, his manager, stepped in at that point, soothing. “It’s just right, Joonghyuk-ssi has been rushing so much that he hasn’t been able to rest well. I’ll take him back to the car and you can call us when Jiwon-ssi arrives.” 
 
  Not without digging the knife in a little bit first, of course. 
 
  The director flapped a hand. “Yes, please get some rest.” He turned his head, barking out some instructions to the rest of the team. 
 
  “Alright everyone, change of plans! Dokja-ssi, have you finished your preparations already?” 
 
  “Yes, Byungho-nim.” 
 
  “Good, good, come up, we’ll do your stuff first so you can go home for the day.” 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk glanced at the man who walked up towards the set. He was nondescript- the kind of good-looking face that nonetheless blended into the crowd of other, more dazzling actors. If Yoo Joonghyuk had to pick out a feature, perhaps it was his eyes, large, clear and dark, set off by long lashes. His suit was cut sharply to his form, artfully disheveled, and his bleached hair was slicked back, baring his clean face. Unfortunately, he had the unassuming aura of a drab little mouse, making the flashy suit seem too small and ill-fitting. 
 
  Noticing that Yoo Jonghyuk hadn’t yet left, the director nodded towards him. “Joonghyuk-ssi, this is <PRESIDIO_ANONYMIZED_PERSON>, he will be playing Jin Hajoon, the son of the criminal boss.” 
 
  “We’ve already met,” Kim Dokja said pleasantly, but he didn’t lift his gaze to meet Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes.  
 
  “Oh, really? Ah, that’s right, you were in Zarathustra with Anna Croft, weren’t you?” 
 
  “Among others,” Kim Dokja agreed cheerfully. 
 
  “Well, I didn’t hear any complaints from Baram-nim, so it must have gone well.” 
 
  It was easy to see that the director had a favorable impression of this bit actor. Yoo Joonghyuk lost interest immediately, piecing together a familiar story. 
 
  Sensing Yoo Joonghyuk’s mood, Bi-hyung excused them and the director spoke a few words to Kim Dokja, going over the mood he wanted for the scene. 
 
  “I’ll bring the car around closer, so please wait here, Joonghyuk-ssi.” Bi-hyung took out his car keys and motioned for Yoo Joonghyuk to sit at the waiting area near the parking lot. 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk nodded, digging into a pocket for his phone only to realize he’d left it in the jacket on set. With Bi-hyung gone, he had no choice but to get it himself, stalking back over from where they came. 
 
  
    Thwap! 
  
 
  “You useless 
  
    idiots
  
  ,” the harsh voice cut through the air like a whip crack. 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk stopped, a sharp sense of danger piercing him like a knife. He swung his head, looking for the source, only to be arrested by the sight on set. 
 
  The studio was dark, illuminated only by a single amber lamp on the set. The stark lighting threw shadows on what was an otherwise luxurious setup: a gilt-edged sofa under a crystal chandelier, the remains of a banquet on the table. 
 
  Mantled in light and shadow, a pale, well-dressed young man pinned a thug’s head to the table under his perfectly-polished oxford shoe. Glass and wine lay shattered around them, and the two other actors were frozen to their seats, petrified. 
 
  There was a mad light in the man’s eyes as he took up a fruit knife left on the table. He hefted it lazily, flicking pale liquid off with a sharp swing. Then, without warning, he abruptly jammed the seven-inch blade down an inch from the pinned man’s head. He yanked the knife out and did it again, hacking away at the table, splinters and chips flying out. In the perfect quiet, his performance seemed all the more maddened, the thud of the knife like a cleaver on a butcher’s block.
 
  “I told you I wanted her!” the man growled. With the full force of his arm, he stabbed down, leaving the knife embedded on the table. His shoulders tipped back and a slender, graceful hand smoothed back a few locks of hair from his brow, exposing his fair forehead. The dim light cast half his bloodless face into shadow. The other half was unexpectedly delicate, like fine porcelain, a dramatic contrast to the demon from a moment past. It painted a veneer of fragile sanity over his lunacy. “So,” he said slowly, his voice dropping into half-croon, and his mouth carved a too-wide grin, saved only by a faint love-lorn glaze. “Where is she?” 
 
  The man on the table whimpered, forgetting his lines. 
 
  “She’s still in Seoul, we’ll find her! W-we’ll do better,” one of the others said, the stutter on his lips all too raw. 
 
  “‘Better’ is useless. I only need ‘will’.” The man leaned back on the couch, arrogantly draping an arm over the back in a movement that stretched his expensive dress shirt taut over his chest, his eyes half-lidded with ennui, as though he’d already lost interest in the man under his heel. 
 
  “Come back with her or not at all.” 
 
  “Cut!” The director shouted. “All in one take, as professional as ever, Dokja-ssi.”
 
  The man on set seemed to instantly collapse in on himself, closing his eyes as an mad second-generation tyrant and opening them as an amiable little mouse. “I’m glad if Byungho-nim is satisfied.” He removed his foot from the other actor and helped him up, apologizing.
 
  “Amazing, isn’t it?” A voice remarked, forcing Yoo Joonghyuk back into the present. 
 
  He glanced over to find a graceful woman in a pantsuit standing next to him. Her fresh, pretty face and neat, orderly clothes could have belonged to any starlet, but the backpack tucked under her arm and the old, peeling plastic thermos in her hands clearly didn’t belong to her. 
 
  She looked up at him and there was a hint of steel in her gentle gaze. “He’s the best actor I know.” 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk shifted his eyes back to the nondescript man politely listening to another actor’s complaints. 
 
  “You are?” 
 
  “Yoo Sangah, Kim Dokja’s manager.” She extended a professional hand. 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t shake it, engrossed in finding even a speck of the former unhinged, sloppy mob boss in the prim posture and the delicate shoulder that sank under an overenthusiastic slap. 
 
  A change so complete it was eerie. 
 
  “I’ve never heard of him,” Yoo Joonghyuk said, finally. 
 
  “That’s how he likes it,” Yoo Sangah smiled. “Please excuse me, Joonghyhuk-ssi.” She walked off, offering Kim Dokja the thermos with a cheerful ‘good job!’. 
 
  ‘Kim Dokja’. Yoo Joonghyuk silently marked the name and left. 
 
  =
 
  “What were you doing with Yoo Joonghyuk?” Kim Dokja asked Yoo Sangah curiously, once they were alone. They had a little corner of the dressing room to themselves, oddly peaceful amidst the hubbub. “You haven’t fallen for him, have you?”
 
  “I’m loyal to Dokja-ssi.”  Yoo Sangah laughed and helped him peel out of his suit jacket. 
 
  Kim Dokja made a face, ruffling his hair back into its usual soft mess. “It’s because you keep saying stuff like that that your mother is worried we’ll get married.” 
 
  “I’m your fan, though?” Yoo Sangah teased. 
 
  “You have it hard,” Kim Dokja replied, the familiar banter spooling out, but he wasn’t letting her off that easily. “You’ve never approached him before- why now?” 
 
  “Well, because he was looking at you.” 
 
  Kim Dokja stared at her blankly. “Yes? Didn’t he leave right after the shoot?” 
 
  “He looked too long.”
 
  Kim Dokja laughed. “He probably just doesn’t like being forced to wait to film. He’ll forget, just like the other times.” 
 
  “Maybe,” Yoo Sangah hummed noncommittally. “For now, we should get to MPM for your afternoon shoot.” 
 
  “Was that for the liniment? Or the drink?” Kim Dokja wondered as he finished changing behind a rack of costumes in the communal dressing room. 
 
  “The drink.” Yoo Sangah handed him a change of clothes. 
 
  “Ah, it’s been a while since we saw Gilyoung, hasn’t it?” 
 
  “He’ll be happy, won’t he?” Yoo Sangah smiled. 
 
  =
 
  “Dokja-hyung!!” A short ball of energy streaked across the studio, sticking against Kim Dokja’s side. 
 
  Kim Dokja was grateful Lee Gilyoung had stopped jumping into his arms. The boy was getting a bit too large, now, for him to lift easily. He rummaged in his pocket and produced some sweets, individually wrapped chocolate, and dropped them into Gilyoung’s waiting hand. 
 
  “Gilyoung-ah, you’re early?” 
 
  “I wanted to see you!” Gilyoung beamed. He tore open the chocolate wrapper with his teeth, gobbling it down clean. He was wearing a sailor-style shirt with suspenders, the detailed buttons were in the shape of beetles, indicating another original design from his mother. 
 
  “Where’s your manager?” 
 
  “Dunno,” Gilyoung said vaguely. “I think he got a call?” 
 
  Kim Dokja nodded and walked over to greet the rest of the staff.  
 
  Today’s concept was of a hardworking father and his adorable, athletic child. The product was a nutritional drink targeted for young athletes, with a new vanilla-malt flavor currently being promoted. 
 
  Kim Dokja had read over the script in the car. It was a sweet story, innocent and charming. Like an idyllic afternoon. 
 
  He closed his eyes and let his hand slip around Gilyoung’s small one, cradling it preciously. It was fortunate that it turned out to be Gilyoung. That was easier. 
 
  “Dokja-ssi?” 
 
  Kim Dokja blinked, the thin character he’d started to construct collapsing as he turned at the familiar voice.
 
  “Hyunsung-ssi?” 
 
  “It’s you, after all! What job are you doing today?” Lee Hyunsung bounded up to them like an oversized golden retriever, eager to see friends. The bright green singlet he had on was inappropriate for the weather, doing little to hide his thick biceps and broad chest. 
 
  “It must be the same thing as Hyunsung-ssi-- aren’t you the brand ambassador?” Lee Hyunsung had started to gain a bit of a reputation for his uncanny athleticism and sweet nature. The Sponsors loved that kind of personality and he often did a lot of endorsements in between action series. 
 
  “And Gilyoung is here, too, that’s great.” He reached out to ruffle Gilyoung’s hair, which the younger boy bore with great dignity, nuzzling back into Kim Dokja’s side once he was done. 
 
  “It’s been a while since you worked together on Masked Thor, huh? Congratulations, by the way, I heard it was well-received.” 
 
  “It’s nothing, B.YOO-nim deserves all the praise.” 
 
  “That’s true, but Hyunsung-ssi’s Thor was very charming.” 
 
  Hyunsung flushed faintly. The golden retriever was wagging his tail. 
 
  Gilyoung’s face was pressed into his side, however, which usually meant he was sulking. “Gilyoung did well, too, your declaration at the end was very cool.”
 
  Gilyoung puffed up his chest. “Next time, hyung should audition, too- you’re way better than everybody else.” 
 
  Yoo Sangah walked over to the trio, bringing some of the crisp outdoor air with her as she tucked the car keys away in her coat. 
 
  “Ah, Hyunsung-ssi, thank you for last time.” She bowed slightly but her smile was warm. 
 
  “Any time,” Lee Hyunsung beamed. 
 
  “Did you two meet up?” Kim Dokja asked curiously.
 
  “Just by chance, Hyunsung-ssi helped take care of someone for me…” 
 
  They chatted until the director called, breaking up the party to get ready for their shoots. 
 
  A stylist handed Kim Dokja a parcel with his clothes and settled a slightly curly dark wig on his head, to better match Gilyoung, before leaving him to do another artist’s clothes. He dragged the sweater onto his bony frame and sat still as a makeup artist carefully dabbed subtle circles under his eyes and emphasized the lines of his mouth, finishing off with a quick powder.
 
  “Dokja-yah’s skin is really good, I’m very envious,” the makeup artist, a woman in her forties, sighed delicately. “Aren’t you turning thirty this year? I can’t believe I have to make you look older.” 
 
  “I wouldn’t look this good at all, if not for Airi-noona.” 
 
  The woman guffawed and slapped him encouragingly. “Acting cute at your age, you little rascal! You always know what to say, don’t you? I’ll see to the others now, so try not to touch your face too much, you hear?” 
 
  “...Dokja-ssi has really come a long way,” Yoo Sangah observed, once she left. 
 
  “It’s kind of automatic if you practice it enough,”Kim Dokja laughed awkwardly. “I guess I have to start changing the script, though, I really am getting old.” 
 
  His eyes flicked down and he tugged at the cuffs of his dark brown sweater. The somber color gave his relatively youthful face an old-fashioned air and a pair of thick glasses covered the brightness of his eyes. 
 
  He had often been told, as a child, that his face resembled his father, more, though his eyes were like his mother’s, dark but lively. 
 
  “Is it really okay?” Yoo Sangah asked, fiddling with the script. 
 
  “Why shouldn’t it be?” Kim Dokja replied, turning towards her, the smile on his mouth a little crooked. “This is also a story.”  
 
  =
 
  Lee Hyunsung invited them to dinner, but Yoo Sangah got summoned to the office shortly after, leaving Kim Dokja free to wait at the izakaya-style restaurant not too far from the studio as the action star finished up.  
 
  He took a sip of iced barley tea, went through his messages, replied to some, and opened his webnovel app for the sixteenth time in the vain hope there would be an update. 
 
  Disappointed, he sent a text to Han Sooyoung and let his gaze wander.
 
  The bar was modestly-sized, the light bright but yellowed, casting a golden glow on wooden tables and chairs. An incongruously modern LCD screen was mounted on one of the walls, playing the trailer for a new movie. 
 
  “Ah, it’s Yoo Joonghyuk!” someone from the next table commented excitedly. 
 
  “That movie opens this weekend- let’s go see it together!” 
 
  Sure enough, it was Yoo Joonghyuk’s new movie. The camera cut in on the swipe of a sword, slowly panning up a moody, gorgeous Yoo Joonghyuk, dressed in a waistcoat with a stiff collar buttoned up high. The theme seemed to be steampunk, his boots tipped in brass, and his low, magnetic voice was questioning the woman at his feet. 
 
  Kim Dokja watched as the cut-ins revealed that Yoo Joonghyuk was a bounty hunter, tracking down an infamous serial killer. Every movement felt authentic and sharp, an irresistible pull on your subconscious whispering that if you looked away, just once, then you’d regret it for the rest of your life. Yoo Joonghyuk was poetry in motion, crisp and clean in a way that spoke of long training, and he looked as though he could step out of the screen at any moment and streak like a comet through an insipid night. 
 
  “He’s flashy, as always, huh?” A woman stood next to Kim Dokja's table, bracing her hands on the edge. Her long hair was pulled up into a messy bun and the loose shirt and plain jeans did little to hide her curvaceous figure. Her baseball cap was set low over her eyes. She casually hopped over the table, slotting herself on the inside of the booth behind Kim Dokja.
 
  “Heewon-ssi.” Kim Dokja acknowledged as she wrapped a friendly arm around his thin shoulders. 
 
  “Heeey! I heard from Hyunsung that you guys were having dinner, that jerk, so I invited myself.” 
 
  “You’re always welcome to join us--”
 
  “That’s what I keep telling you,” Jung Heewon said absently. 
 
  “No, that’s a different issue…” 
 
  “Anyway, another new movie, huh? Is he trying to go for some kind of record?” 
 
  “He’s… in demand,” Kim Dokja shrugged. 
 
  “Even though he’s always pretty much the same guy, don’t they ever get sick of him?” Jung Heewon complained, stretching out her arms on the table like a runner doing warm ups. 
 
  “It’s a bit different,” Kim Dokja said reluctantly. As an actor, he couldn’t help but sympathize with Jung Heewon’s point of view, but it was because he’d been watching for so long as an actor that he also couldn’t really let it stand. 
 
  “The way Yoo Joonghyuk acts is like he is a different version of himself each time.” 
 
  Like he’d been given another chance at life, he wove a slightly different personality, made slightly different choices according to his character’s history, blending the role and himself. The audience couldn’t help but feel that the role had been made for him. Combined with his natural charisma, it was no wonder that the man never lacked for work, always the protagonist whenever he was in view. 
 
  “Is that even really acting, anymore?” Jung Heewon scoffed. “But what do I know? I just don’t like that b@st@rd, personally. Dokja-ssi’s a lot more talented and Hyunsung’s a lot more loveable.” 
 
  “That’s an obvious bias…” 
 
  “Isn’t it? But that’s life,” Jung Heewon said philosophically. “Here, how about we start ordering?” 
 
  Kim Dokja made a vague noise of agreement. He didn’t really care what they ate, so he left it to her. 
 
  On the screen, Lee Seolhwa was playing as the movie’s leading lady, dressed in a red cheongsam with her pearlescent hair cascading down to her waist, a feast for the eyes. Her snowy thigh flashed in and out of sight as she sauntered slowly over to Yoo Joonghyuk, a gun in hand. 
 
  “Oh, Seolhwa-unni, too?” Jung Heewon remarked. “Ah, they must have big sponsors for this one.” 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk’s presence was amazing, endlessly enthralling, But next to him, her presence was steady and calm, like an untouchable moon to his domineering sun. Lee Seolhwa’s temperament was almost ethereal and her acting was as precise as a surgical blade. She often starred in medical dramas and was an undeniable match with South Korea’s most popular actor. Critics always raved about how it was a match made in heaven; gossipmongers endlessly speculating about whether the two were dating. It didn’t hurt that both of them had jaw-dropping good looks.
 
  “Aren’t you her bodyguard in ‘Calamity’?” 
 
  “As expected of Dokja-ssi, yes, we just started filming! She’s a gentle and cool person. Everyone always feels reassured around her.” 
 
  Kim Dokja smiled at her enthusiasm. His phone buzzed briefly, a text from Yoo Sangah informing him that she was on her way back. 
 
  “Does Lee Seolhwa still bring snacks for the rest of the staff?” 
 
  “She does!” Jung Heewon reported enthusiastically. “I can’t believe she has time to cook! She wears all these really high-end brands, but she’s really got a maternal touch, you know? And her food is really good!” 
 
  “Just be careful not to eat too much.”
 
  “I might not have your metabolism, Dokja-ssi, but I definitely exercise more.” She poked his soft, flat stomach with a finger. 
 
  Kim Dokja laughed, conceding the point, and leaned back in his seat, coaxing stories from Jung Heewon’s day. 
 
  =
 
  “What are you looking at?” Lee Seolhwa glanced over. From their private booth, they could see people passing by on the street outside, but her current dinner partner wasn’t the type to get interested in strangers. 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk’s gaze followed a small group of men and women making their way out of an izakaya. The group lingered outside, chatting in the cooling night air. 
 
  “Isn’t that Heewon-ssi?” Lee Seolhwa remarked. “Are those her friends?” The man next to her was tall and well-built and the woman was quite beautiful, in the refined, gentle way wealthy young heiresses often were. 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t reply. But he didn’t seem to be looking at Jung Heewon, either.
 
  “...Have you heard of a ‘Kim Dokja’?” 
 
  Lee Seolhwa blinked. “Kim... Dokja?” She repeated the name slowly, tasting it carefully like an exotic herb. She knew plenty of ‘Kim’s, but such an unusual name... “I haven’t?” 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk finally turned towards her. “He worked with you on Thousand Poison Doctor.” 
 
  “Oh…” 
 
  “A pale man. Foolish. With… a terrifying ability.” 
 
  “For Joonghyuk-ssi to say so is the most terrifying thing,” Lee Seolhwa laughed, but her interest was piqued. She looked back at the group and picked out the one that Yoo Joonghyuk was staring at. The man seemed to fade a little, in such glamorous company, but looking closer, he was the heart of the group, each one was subconsciously inclined towards him, like flowers towards the sun. 
 
  Lee Seolhwa gently twirled her fork into her pasta and thought. Thousand Poison Doctor had been her debut, a career-making movie that had also been a blockbuster hit. She couldn’t really forget any of the people she’d spent the year filming with, but there had been others… people who wandered in and out of the set for a time.
 
  No, wait, there was one man who barely stayed two weeks, shooting all his scenes in record time.
 
  “...The director called him a ‘good worker’.”  She remembered an unassuming, incredibly polite man, with the kind of delicate but average features you’d often see in a big idol group. She’d assumed he was a minor idol who had gotten too old for his job and was looking to get some cross industry experience, but would that kind of newbie really have finished up so quickly? 
 
  “The medicine seller,” she murmured. “That’s him, isn’t it?” 
 
  She leaned in, intensely curious, her eyes lighting up mischievously. “Has he caught your attention?”
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk frowned, stabbing his steak. “He’s abnormal.” 
 
  Lee Seolhwa pretended to be deliberately obtuse. It was always useful for dealing with sponsors, and, sometimes, stubborn men. “I think he blends in quite well, actually.” 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk glowered at his meal. “Have you ever met an actor who doesn’t want to promote himself?” 
 
  Lee Seolhwa paused. “No, not really.” 
 
  “He’s hiding something,” Yoo Joonghyuk surmised. 
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk seldom got riled up. People often said he was cold, but it was more of a professional detachment. Though he was often annoyed and wasn’t above being menacing, he was seldom truly discomfited like this. 
 
  It was oddly cute, in such a stoic man. But Yoo Joonghyuk was full of these small surprises.
 
  “Perhaps you’ll find out if you take a closer look. Under his clothes, for example.”
 
  Yoo Joonghyuk dropped his fork, looking at her like a betrayed wolfhound. 
 
  Lee Seolhwa laughed and poured him some wine.
 
  “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, though? It’s nice to see you taking an interest in other people again. I can’t always accompany you like this forever. I might get a jealous boyfriend, someday.” She paused, thinking. “Or a dog.” 
 
  “You hardly have the time.” 
 
  “It’s true,” she chuckled. “But sometimes fate finds a way.” She smiled and took a sip of her own wine.
 
  “Even if it’s nothing more, there’s no harm in making some friends. You’ve been consuming yourself too much.” 
 
  “...What do you mean?” 
 
  “I mean you’re going to see a wall, soon.” She fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “Actors aren’t meant to be alone, Joonghyuk. Humans weren’t built that way. There’s only so many selves you can find by yourself. Sometimes, you need other people to discover them for you.” 
 
  Sometimes, she tried to picture what Yoo Joonghyuk would be like, if he weren’t an actor. With a face like that, it was hard to imagine him being ordinary. His temperament was unruly and stubborn, ill-suited for gladhanding and social niceties. 
 
  But he was the type of man to see things through, and once acting had fallen into his lap, he’d pursued it with a single-mindedness that seemed possessed, as though to fill a gap that existed in his soul. 
 
  For all the rumors that surrounded him; the people that admired him, Yoo Joonghyuk’s back had always struck her as particularly lonely. 
 
  “Do you think Heewon-ssi would bring her friends for dinner if I asked,” she thought aloud. 
 
  Joonghyuk stiffened, looking at her warily. “It’s your business.” 
 
  “Naturally, you’d be invited, too.” 
 
  “...I’ll think about it.” 
 
  “Good, noona likes obedient boys.” 
 
  “...You’re younger than me.” 
 
  She smiled sweetly. “Not in the industry.” 

  
  

    
      
        
        
          A/N: This is a (mostly) brainless fluff plotbunny that kicked in my door and threatened me at gunpoint until I wrote it. There's almost 30k written for this so far and it shows no signs of wanting to stop.  That being said, very little to no research went into the making of this fic and what there is is mostly pulled from a combination of other non-Korean entertainment circle novels/manga. Also apologizing in advance: all non-ORV Korean names are randomly selected from the internet and I’ve tried to follow the old translation’s name formatting where it seemed similar for consistency. I also tweaked the ages so the kids stay pre-timeskip aged. Similarly, South Korean culture and attitudes are not reflected anywhere near accurately in this fic. (For one thing, google suggests they’re a lot more conservative.) Please consider it as an alternate ORV-ish Seoul where even Eden’s angels ship Joongdok.Also it's midnight, I will probably edit/fix typos after I wake up. :'D  Please leave a comment if you're interested in where this is going!'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: