Superstar 790
by CristaeEpisode 790 of Superstar from Birth
“Then we’ll get going now!”
“Work hard at practice.”
As Amber and Vermillion departed with excited steps, Seojun, Park Ideun, and Jung Eunsung waved them off from the mini lounge.
“I’ll head back to the office too. Gotta start looking into this fan signing idea.”
Choi Taewoo, still recovering from being swarmed by the Vermillion kids, also took his leave. Seeing Seojun’s interested expression, he figured he might as well dig into it.
“Just don’t overdo it, hyung.”
“…I know.”
Seojun said it without even blinking, and Taewoo nodded with a sheepish expression.
Once everyone had left, the 3rd-floor mini lounge—so noisy just moments ago with more than a dozen people—fell completely quiet. Only Seojun, Ideun, and Eunsung remained.
“It was so lively just a minute ago…”
“Right? Now it’s totally silent.”
As Seojun spoke wistfully, Jung Eunsung gave his shoulder a few pats and added,
“No need to be sad.”
“What should we do now? Wanna hang out? I brought a VR set to our practice room! Hid it from our trainer and manager—took a lot of effort! Or we could go out! This is exactly when the Seojun Shield should be used!”
“…Yeah, this guy’s basically five people’s worth of energy.”
With Ideun chattering at lightning speed and Eunsung looking like a monk in acceptance, Seojun burst out laughing.
While Seojun was hanging out with the Blue Moon duo…
Ahn Daho was quietly flipping through a script.
Since becoming a company director, he had far more responsibilities. It wasn’t easy to review every script or synopsis that came in for Seojun—but anything pre-filtered by Team 1, he still read without fail.
The key difference between him and Taewoo? He didn’t burn himself out. A true veteran.
Like always, he was wondering which script to recommend as Seojun’s next project. If it passed his review, it would go to Taewoo, who’d then hand it off to Seojun.
“Though Seojun sometimes brings in his own picks too…”
Daho chuckled softly and turned back to the script.
[Fate]
A solid piece.
The director was competent, and the screenwriter had adapted the original novel skillfully without losing key themes. The original novel was also excellent.
“Song Moonseok, huh.”
Seeing the author’s name, Daho recalled another one of his works: [The Jury].
A good story.
That was the same play The Jury that had caused a stir back in Seojun’s middle school days when a false rumor claimed he would be performing in [Mirror]. The play had starred actor Kim Jongho.
Now, another work by Song Moonseok—[Fate]—was being adapted into a film, and a casting offer had come in for Seojun.
“Seojun said he liked the novel too.”
Seojun was fond of books—well, the kind with potential for film or drama adaptation. If he said it was good, unless the producers deliberately tanked it, [Fate] would likely succeed.
*“Though, who *tries* to tank a project on purpose…”*
Daho smiled wryly, set [Fate] aside in the approved pile, and picked up the next script.
“Ah.”
His eyes widened the moment he saw the title in English.
“…So this is where it was.”
A project that had once looked like it was trying to flop.
[New Eclipse]
As Seojun’s manager (past or present), it was a title impossible to ignore.
“They already have a script?”
He remembered Seojun mentioning this summer that Grace Welton’s sister, Laura Welton—the author of the original [Eclipse] novel—had been in talks with the production company. It seemed things had progressed quickly.
“Still, I didn’t expect the script to reach Seojun this fast…”
…Then again, maybe it wasn’t that surprising.
In [Eclipse], the male lead was a mixed-blood werewolf from another continent—no specific ethnicity tied to the role.
Plus, Seojun once told him that the male lead in the original draft (a.k.a. the “practice version”) of [Eclipse] was inspired by both Seojun and his friend, Charlie Bernard.
*“Given Seojun’s ticket power, it would be weird *not* to send him the script.”*
It was more surprising that [Mangclipse] hadn’t reached out before.
Daho shook his head slowly.
‘We probably turned that one down on purpose back then.’
In any case—
The script for New Eclipse, a new film adaptation of the much-discussed novel Eclipse, had made its way into Ahn Daho’s hands.
“…Well, this is something.”
Daho stared down at the script with a complicated expression.
“Honestly, I’m scared to even open it.”
Still, the fact that it passed Team 1’s screening meant it must’ve cleared some basic quality threshold.
The cover bore the title and the names of the director and screenwriter—people who had successfully adapted another of Laura Welton’s works, Cloud, into a hit film.
‘That’s promising.’
Letting out a soft breath, Daho flipped to the first page and began reading. Slowly, word by word. And before he knew it, he was completely absorbed. As fast as he had read Fate, he now read this—without skipping a single line.
Eventually, Daho closed the final page of the script. He exhaled deeply.
“…They did a great job.”
As someone who’d read hundreds of scripts for Seojun over the years, he could sense the effort behind this screenplay. He didn’t even need to ask—he could feel how much time and passion the director, writer, and original author had poured into it.
Daho leaned back in his chair.
The other scripts were decent too—but Seojun would almost certainly end up choosing between Fate and New Eclipse.
“So now what…”
If both projects were on equal footing, Seojun would likely pick the one he read first.
‘He’ll start visualizing how he’d act in the role as he reads it.’
Once that vision takes hold, unless the second script is markedly better, Seojun wouldn’t be able to let go of the first.
Like the first bite of food when you’re starving—it’s always the most delicious.
“Guess that saying about timing in life isn’t just a cliché.”
Both films were shot in different countries—Korea and the U.S.—so doing both would be extremely difficult.
Daho looked down at the two scripts on the desk: Fate and New Eclipse.
Whichever one ended up on top…
That would be the one Seojun read first.
And that meant, in a way, Daho’s hands would decide Seojun’s next project.
“Of course, the final choice is still Seojun’s.”
But as his former manager, Daho had a feeling—it would come down to one of these two.
He quietly studied the two screenplays, eyes darting back and forth between them.
Then—
The peony-engraved compass on the side of his desk began to spin.
[(Passive/Custom) Golden Mermaid Parvita’s Compass points the way.]
Hmm.
Daho reached out and picked one.
The Next Day – Seojun’s House
“Seojun-ah, I brought the scripts.”
Right on time—matching Seojun’s return from school—Choi Taewoo arrived with a box full of screenplays.
“Thanks, hyung!”
Seojun’s usual thank-you still felt special every time. With how his face lit up, there was no doubt it came from the heart—Taewoo couldn’t help smiling too.
“You want coffee, right?”
Seojun happily guided him to the living room and handed him a cup he had already prepared. The iced coffee was filled with cubes—Taewoo, a proud member of the Iced Forever club, smiled wide.
Seojun placed his own orange juice on the table and looked down at the box with an eager gleam in his eyes, like a child opening a treasure chest.
“…Oh…”
Seeing the topmost script, Seojun let out an unconscious gasp.
[New Eclipse]
He couldn’t help it.
‘Grace never mentioned this…’
They had talked about other things, but she’d said almost nothing about the project.
‘So either she didn’t know Seojun got the casting offer, or she knew and didn’t want her personal connection to influence his choice…’
‘…Or maybe it was so bad again, she didn’t even want to bring it up.’
It had to be one of those three.
“How was it, hyung?”
Better than Mangclipse?
Though Seojun didn’t say the second part aloud, the flicker in his eyes made it clear. Taewoo smiled—probably everyone who heard about New Eclipse had that exact same look.
“It was good. Way better than before.”
“Phew. That’s a relief.”
Seojun’s shoulders relaxed, the weight of concern for his friend lifting. Smiling brightly, he looked over the script again. The cover credited the Cloud team—he vaguely remembered Grace mentioning that the old in-house crew had been swapped out for them.
Still, Seojun’s eyes held a glint of skepticism as he began to read.
At first, he read leisurely, sipping his orange juice in between. But soon, the frequency dropped. Then, he stopped drinking altogether. Sitting still, barely breathing, he turned the pages slowly and carefully.
Completely absorbed in New Eclipse.
Watching him, Choi Taewoo couldn’t help but smile.
As expected, Seojun shone brightest when it came to acting.
“Wow…”
Seojun finally looked up, awe in his eyes. The doubt in his dark pupils had turned to excitement, now sparkling.
“It’s completely different! It doesn’t stray much from the original, but you can really see how they emphasized cinematic elements. The characters have even more personality—probably to make them stand out better on screen. It’s fascinating. And the action scenes… they’re gonna look amazing…”
Words poured out of him in a rush.
Taewoo nodded.
“Right? It looks like they put a lot of care into it.”
“I want to do this one, hyung.”
Yep. Called it.
At Seojun’s quick, decisive answer, Taewoo chuckled knowingly and nodded.
“Not going to check the others?”
“The others? Oh… Fate? It’s getting a film adaptation?”
Placing New Eclipse gently to the side like a treasure, Seojun noticed the script beneath it.
“That one’s good too. One of Team 1’s recommended picks.”
“Really?”
Even though his heart was already set on New Eclipse, Seojun figured it wouldn’t hurt to check the others too.
Hmm-hmm-hmm~
Humming, excited at the prospect of another fun read, he opened Fate… and immediately pouted.
“Aaah… this one’s good too, Taewoo hyung…”
Just like Ahn Daho had predicted—Fate had captured his heart as well.
“…I can’t do both, right?”
With wide, puppy-like eyes, Seojun looked at Taewoo as if asking to keep two shiny toys. Smiling softly, Taewoo cleared his throat and replied.
“They’ll overlap in filming schedule, and the locations are the U.S. and Korea… so yeah, you’ll have to choose one.”
“Ughhh…”
Timing is everything.
Seojun let out a long sigh and looked back and forth between the two scripts with deep longing. After a moment, he made his choice.
The one he read first—New Eclipse.
Just as Ahn Daho had foreseen, the ideas and performance he’d already imagined for that role made it impossible to shake off.
Really!
Truly!!
It was painful to let go.
“…Guess it can’t be helped…”
As Seojun gently poked the script for Fate with a mournful expression, Taewoo could almost see droopy puppy ears and tail sprouting behind him.
And that made him burst out laughing.