Superstar 835
by CristaeTo the quiet cheers of the crowd, Seo-jun opened his eyes.
If the ears had been part of his actual body, he could’ve told whether they were moving or not. But no matter how much he focused, all he could feel was the headband pressing against his head.
“Guess I’ll have to check with a mirror.”
Continuing that slightly pitiful thought, Seo-jun looked into the mirror in his hand. The mechanical ears, shaped exactly like a wolf’s, drooped low.
“Whoa!”
As soon as Seo-jun gasped in surprise, the ears perked straight up.
“Ooooh!”
The actors let out another round of exclamations as the wolf ears, which had been drooping moments before, shot upright with Seo-jun’s startled reaction.
“That response time is insane!”
“It really feels like it’s connected directly to Jun!”
“Jun! Try other emotions too! Come on!”
At Brian Gudel’s request, Seo-jun grinned and ran through a series of expressions.
Joy.
Flap flap.
“Ooh!”
Sadness.
Droooop—
“Ooooh!”
Anger.
Sharp lift!
“Ooooooooh!!”
Like kids with a new toy, Seo-jun and the actors stared at the wolf ears, mesmerized by their life-like movement.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of mechanical stiffness. The movements were smooth, fluid—like an actual animal’s. The range was wide, too.
The ears stood tall and leaned forward, then folded back close to his head. Even the little twitching from imaginary muscles could be seen.
“This is nothing like the footage we saw before.”
“Yeah. If I only saw the ears, I’d believe there’s a real wolf in front of me.”
A round of admiration filled the room.
“Jun! Can I try them too?!”
“Sure. Just a sec.”
Seeing Brian’s excited expression, Seo-jun smiled and gently took off the wolf ear headband. Judging by its performance, this device had taken serious money and tech to make.
‘Better not drop it and break it.’
Brian, seemingly on the same wavelength, handled the headband with utmost care.
Now motionless, the wolf ears were stiff and cold, devoid of the warmth and movement from just moments ago.
“Wow. So this was moving like that just now…?”
“It’s totally mechanical when you touch it.”
The other actors gently poked at the wolf ears in Brian’s hands with curious faces. Soft due to the fur, but hard and cold to the touch.
“Alright, I’m trying it on!”
Brian carefully put on the headband, his face filled with excitement. The others watched him with eager eyes.
“How did you make this, exactly?” Seo-jun asked Wilma Evans with a thrilled expression.
The way the ears responded to emotion was simply amazing.
Wilma, who had been watching silently until now, finally turned to Seo-jun.
Seo-jun blinked.
He recognized that expression.
That “as expected of Seo-jun.”
Here it comes.
“Truly… you’re incredible, Jun.”
See?
At Wilma’s quiet words, Seo-jun rolled his eyes.
‘Wait, what? I didn’t do anything this time though?’
All he did was basic emotional acting. Any actor should be able to do that.
For a veteran director like Wilma to be surprised—that was more unexpected.
Seo-jun was about to respond when—
“Uh-oh?”
Brian’s nervous voice rang out.
Turning toward him, Seo-jun saw both Brian and the actors staring at the wolf ears with concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you break something, Brian?”
“Jun… Director…”
Brian looked near tears, eyes filled with confusion, panic, and injustice.
“Oh! It moved!”
Right then, the ears moved again.
They folded backward—an expression of anxiety and fear.
Brian’s teary face and the anxious ears made for a perfect match.
‘Okay, so the performance is solid.’
Even the actors seemed amazed.
“Uh? They’re up again!”
“Wait, now they’re down?!”
“They’re twitching…?”
“Brian, what are you doing?”
“I don’t know!!”
It was chaos.
Brian looked on the verge of tears, actors spoke over one another, and the ears moved wildly as if malfunctioning.
…Malfunctioning?
Seo-jun blinked.
“Brian, is that thing broken?”
Brian’s eyes went wide.
Answer enough.
Wiping at his face, Brian looked pleadingly at Wilma.
“D-director… is it… expensive?”
He sniffled.
“It’s fine,” Wilma said with a wry smile.
“It’s not broken. It’s meant to do that.”
…What?
Everyone blinked in confusion.
“Jun, try it again.”
“Uh, okay.”
Seo-jun took back the headband and placed it on his head, then acted out some emotions while looking in the mirror.
Joy—flap.
Anger—sharp perk.
Sadness—droop.
“Looks fine to me.”
The ears responded perfectly to his intended emotions.
The others stood slack-jawed.
Wilma then called Dan Kendrick over.
“Dan, your turn.”
“…Alright.”
Dan put on the headband, focused hard.
The ears only gave faint twitches. No real movement.
“It was the same earlier…”
Brian murmured, relieved to know it wasn’t just him.
Everyone looked back at Wilma, who sighed.
“The brainwaves are weak and inconsistent. It means the emotions created through acting are too faint. Since the signals don’t transmit clearly, the ears can’t react properly.”
“Ah…”
That explained why they moved correctly when Brian panicked—those were real, strong emotions.
“Can’t we make it more sensitive?” one actor asked.
“We tried. But then it picks up mixed emotions—‘sadness’ plus ‘focus,’ for example—and reacts oddly. Ears go up, then down, then up again…”
Everyone groaned.
Science was amazing—and hard.
“The current settings are the best balance. Still… even this won’t work for most.”
Watching the ears twitch uselessly on other actors’ heads, Wilma spoke up again.
“Except for Jun.”
And finally—
The ears returned to Seo-jun’s head.
Perk!
Alive again. Soft, organic movement—like a real wolf’s.
Jaws dropped.
“How do you do that, Jun?”
“I just focus on the emotions.”
“Yeah, how do you focus though?”
“…Well?”
Everyone shook their heads.
Seo-jun Lee, the acting genius—even machines acknowledge him now.
“So no one else can use this during filming?” Dan asked.
Wilma grinned.
“No, we still plan to.”
She pulled a small device from the storage box.
“This is a remote control!”
Oooooh!
Everyone stared wide-eyed.
“Of course—it’s a machine, it can be remote-controlled!”
“Why didn’t you show us this earlier?!”
“I wanted to avoid using it,” Wilma said regretfully. “Having the ears respond to the actor’s performance feels more authentic than being remote-controlled by staff.”
True.
It would look better if the ears moved with real emotion.
But only Seo-jun could pull that off.
“If we sync well, it’ll still look natural—like a choreographed fight.”
Wilma’s words had the actors nodding with some regret.
Then—
“Let’s practice,” Seo-jun said.
“Huh?”
“There’s still time before shooting. If we keep practicing, maybe we can use it for at least one scene.”
Seo-jun smiled kindly.
“I’ll help too.”
“Really?”
“That’s aweso—wait…”
The excited actors suddenly froze.
“I think the remote’s good enough, Jun.”
“Yeah. Didn’t Director say syncing could work?”
“Me too, I’ll use the remote.”
“Okay! Let’s practice!”
“NOOO I WANT THE REMOTE!!”
Dragged away by Seo-jun, the actors choked back tears.
Why… why did everything always end in more training?
“Still, they all follow Jun,” Haley Roge said, laughing.
Seo-jun, seated across from her, smiled too.
They always complained, but followed along anyway. He’d once offered to stop and got nothing but rolling eyes.
“One time they even brought orange juice like they were apologizing. I think they enjoy complaining.”
Haley burst out laughing again.
They were in a meeting room at the training center, waiting for Wilma.
“Excuse me.”
Speak of the devil.
The door opened and Wilma walked in—with three strangers.
!!
Seeing Seo-jun and Haley, the three stiffened.
They looked angry, but their glowing faces and sparkling eyes suggested internal screaming.
“These are the guardians,” Wilma said.
“Hello. I’m actor Seo-jun Lee.”
“Haley Roge. Nice to meet you.”
The two actors stood and greeted them with warm smiles.
The guardians looked dazed.
So. Bright.
“You can place the cages on the table.”
“Ah, yes!”
The three hurriedly placed their pet carriers on the table.
Seo-jun and Haley eyed the cages curiously.
Each had a name tag:
[Lily] [Bella] [Jack]
…Jack?
Buddy? What’re you doing in there?
Seo-jun chuckled at the name.
Feels familiar. Kinda endearing already.
He peered inside one of the dark cages.
Though the room was bright, the closed carrier was pitch black.
“You’ll be meeting the new actors now,” Wilma said cheerfully.
“They’ll be playing Molly, the witch’s eternal friend—black cats.”
Inside the darkness—
Slip—
A pair of gleaming yellow eyes emerged.