Superstar 823
by Cristae- Come to think of it, if they’d known Seo-jun would win another Oscar, maybe he didn’t have to enlist.
=22 He’s still only 23. Since he’s a student too, he probably could’ve delayed enlistment.
=33 If I were Seo-jun, I would’ve postponed it as long as possible, worked hard, and then won the award.
=Nah, even if he delayed it, it wouldn’t matter. The law still hasn’t changed.
=?Still?? Wasn’t this being discussed back when Seo-jun was 12 and 18?
=Just discussed. Nothing was ever made into law. Who would’ve thought someone would win a global award in their 20s?
=But Seo-jun went and did it again, lol.
Even in March, the world was still buzzing about Seo-jun.
In Korea, the talk of military exemption—thought long forgotten after Seo-jun’s discharge—was once again a hot topic.
- Seriously, if they’re going to say no exemption, then just say it. Why are they always just “discussing” it?
=Politicians, of course. Just chasing clout off trending topics.
- It’s kind of a shame. Seo-jun could’ve filmed a whole project in 1 year and 4 months. Must’ve been a loss for the agency too.
=I’m sure he gave it plenty of thought and chose what was best.
=Yeah, he probably agonized more than we ever did.
=Maybe his team knew the exemption was never going to happen, and that’s why they had him go early.
=Lol, that might actually be true.
‘Could be.’
Seo-jun thought of Ahn Da-ho, the one who’d brought up enlistment in the first place.
Hmm.
Just thinking about Da-ho gave Seo-jun a sense of trust. Unlike himself, who always followed his heart, Da-ho had likely thought things through thoroughly.
‘Well, whatever the reason was…’
Going early had turned out to be the right decision.
Now, like today and for the future, he could work freely without anyone questioning his service.
“We’re here, Seo-jun.”
At Choi Tae-woo’s voice, Seo-jun turned his head.
Outside the window, he saw the familiar entrance and building.
This was the action training center where he’d start rehearsals today.
“The New Eclipse actors will train over there in Room B1.”
Laura Welton, the original author of New Eclipse, was being shown around the training center alongside the film’s director, Wilma Evans, by a staff member from New Age, the production company.
“Room B2 next door is available for free practice at any time. Trainers are on standby as well.”
This was the action training center where actors and stunt performers would train for their scenes in New Eclipse.
‘I didn’t even get to visit last time.’
Laura held back a sigh.
Back during Eclipse—or rather, Flopclipse—she hadn’t even stepped foot in a place like this. She couldn’t meet the actors, couldn’t advise on the characters, and hadn’t even been allowed to touch the script.
They didn’t just take the novel—they mangled it.
‘No, not even the novel. They butchered it.’
Just thinking about Flopclipse made her blood boil.
She exhaled slowly, calming the fire in her heart, and glanced at the younger sister trailing behind.
Grace Welton.
Her little sister, and the reason she became the author she was today.
Memories of the past made Laura smile softly. Even now, it still felt magical.
It had all started long ago—not even in the U.S., but in France.
Among the many cities and a bustling Halloween festival, three children met: a lost little witch, and two little werewolves who helped her.
They became fast friends, and somehow, their connection lasted even until now.
‘It’s rare, but sometimes people do make lifelong friends at festivals.’
But this story was one-of-a-kind.
The first unique point: the little witch’s older sister wrote a novel based on that meeting—Eclipse.
The second:
“Grace?”
“Hi, Jun!”
One of the little werewolves had grown up to become an actor.
Not just any actor—an international superstar with two Oscars by his early 20s.
“What brings you here? You didn’t say you were coming.”
“Wanted to surprise you!”
And lastly…
The boy from that story had returned, now cast as the film’s male lead in a movie adaptation based on their real-life encounter.
Laura watched as her sister and the superstar bounced with glee like children.
She also noticed the wide-eyed shock on the faces of the director and the New Age rep, jaws practically on the floor.
Laura couldn’t help but chuckle.
This really was one of those “truth is stranger than fiction” moments.
“So, you’re saying you’ve known Grace all along…?”
“Yes, we’ve been friends since we were little. I’m close with Laura too.”
Seo-jun’s casual explanation only made the staff and director stare even harder at the Welton sisters. Their faces practically screamed “Liar.”
Neither Laura nor Grace denied it—they just chuckled.
They hadn’t lied.
They simply hadn’t mentioned it.
Seo-jun, catching on, smiled faintly.
He’d spotted the staff member and Director Evans when he entered. He hadn’t expected to see Laura—and definitely not Grace—here.
‘I guess I got excited and said Grace’s name out loud…’
He’d thought they already knew they were friends, since Grace had sent him the script. In hindsight, maybe a private hello would’ve been better.
But oh well.
‘Not like it’s a secret or anything.’
Seo-jun, always one to follow his instincts, shrugged and offered a handshake.
“It’s great to meet you in person. I’m Seo-jun Lee.”
“I’m Wilma Evans, the director of New Eclipse. I look forward to working with you.”
“Please, just call me Jun. I look forward to it as well.”
As they shook hands, Director Evans gave Seo-jun a thorough look-over.
She stepped in close, then backed away. Circled to his side. Checked the back. From head to toe, she didn’t miss a single detail.
Seo-jun stood calmly, smiling.
‘Very meticulous. I like that.’
Before long, Director Evans nodded in satisfaction.
“Perfect.”
She’d never met Seo-jun before in person, so there was some concern. But now, those worries vanished.
He was just as prepared and professional as his reputation claimed.
“Exactly like what I saw on video.”
Seo-jun grinned.
“I tried to match what I sent you as best as I could.”
Because he hadn’t been able to meet in person due to schedule conflicts, he’d sent periodic self-taped rehearsals of his scenes.
“I doubt my measurements have changed much since I last updated them.”
He’d sent those too, knowing they’d need them for costumes and props.
As the director and actor smiled at each other, the New Age staffer—still reeling—snapped back to reality.
After thinking for a moment, he spoke.
“I think it’s best if we don’t mention your relationship with the author. People might think you were cast based on friendship, not merit.”
Given how badly Eclipse flopped last time, this was important.
If people found out the author and the superstar were friends, rumors could spread: maybe the script still sucked, and they brought in Seo-jun just to sell tickets.
Sure, people who really knew Seo-jun would never believe that.
But the general public? The other cast members?
It could sow doubt.
“Exactly. We handpicked all our actors carefully.”
Director Evans nodded.
She didn’t want baseless gossip tarnishing the film before it even started shooting.
Seo-jun, Laura, and Grace exchanged a look.
They had a story that could silence all those doubts.
If anyone had just asked, “How do you know each other?” they might’ve told the tale.
Of three children who met during a Halloween festival in France 14 years ago.
But no one asked.
‘It’d be weird to bring it up ourselves, right?’
‘Yeah.’
They shrugged in sync.
No need to tell it. Might even be better to keep quiet.
Especially since Grace Welton—the author’s sister and Seo-jun’s childhood friend—wasn’t a public figure.
“All right.”
“Understood.”
With both Laura and Seo-jun nodding, the staff member smiled.
“Let’s head to the training floor, then.”
Totally unaware he’d just missed the scoop of a lifetime.
The other cast members were already assembled in Room B1.
After greeting the director and author, the actors turned to Seo-jun.
There was admiration in their eyes.
Some had hesitated on accepting their roles—until they heard Seo-jun was on board.
Now, they were more than excited.
“Congratulations on the Oscar, Mr. Lee.”
“Thank you. Please, call me Jun.”
When Seo-jun reached out his hand, they smiled and grasped it warmly.
The firm grip made their smiles grow. They could feel it—the dedication. The effort.
“Jun! I’m a huge fan! Please, call me Brian!”
“Thank you, Brian. I’ve enjoyed your work too.”
“Whoa! Really?”
Seo-jun chatted as he observed.
The other actors were solidly built, with toned muscles visible on their arms and legs—not bulky, just lean and athletic.
He smiled in satisfaction.
With a little more refining—or with his help—they’d make perfect, terrifying werewolves.
“Let’s train hard together, everyone.”
Seo-jun beamed.
The actors instinctively took a step back.