Superstar 825
by CristaeDan Kendrick, momentarily caught off guard, pulled himself together and tried to remember.
‘When am I supposed to train with Jun again?’
A vague memory of the schedule his manager had shown him surfaced—then faded.
…The day after tomorrow.
He was pretty sure that’s when he had a session with Seo-jun.
But even then, he wasn’t certain they’d get to act together like they did today.
‘Because we’ll need to learn the choreography and movements for the action scenes.’
If it was easy, he might pick it up quickly and have time to rehearse like today. But if it was tough, he might not have any time left for acting practice.
‘Besides, most scenes moving forward involve multiple actors.’
In terms of the story, one-on-one sessions with just him and Seo-jun like today would be rare.
Sure, he might get the same kind of experience even in group scenes. But it was just as likely that someone’s mistake could totally ruin the immersion.
Dan Kendrick’s worries deepened. The worst-case scenario came to mind.
…He might have to wait until actual filming.
‘Filming…’
That was still over a month away.
Frowning anxiously, Dan suddenly seemed to make up his mind.
“Jun, can I ask what your next schedule is?”
Sorry, but…
He’d have to cancel his original plans.
Just like the other five “fish”—er, actors—before him, Dan was about to say the same thing. The stunt coordinator and trainers silently clapped, barely holding back laughter. It was impressive every time.
Now Jun would say:
“My next schedule? I was thinking of doing some extra solo training.”
And then Dan would ask:
“Solo training?”
“Yes. New Age rented the training room next door too.”
Dan would then vaguely recall hearing something like that and perk up.
Then Jun would add with a smile:
“If it’s okay, would you like to train together?”
“Would that be alright?”
“Of course.”
As always—hook, line, and sinker.
“Should we stop at ‘Welcome’?”
“Yeah. If we go all the way to ‘hell’ he might just run away.”
“Ehehe. Can’t let that happen.”
In Room B2, the five fish—er, actors—waited with their phones lit up, displaying “WELCOME!!” like a makeshift LED banner. The trainers watching couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you really think Dan Kendrick will come?”
One of the trainers asked.
All five actors laughed in unison. They were remembering the exact same thing: the moment they got “caught” by Seo-jun. Dan was probably going through the same thing right now.
“If you’re an actor, you can’t help but come.”
Brian Goodell especially emphasized the word “actor,” and the others quickly chimed in.
“It’s like finding an oasis in the desert.”
“Then you hesitate—‘Is this okay to drink?’—take a small sip, and it’s so good you want more… but then it vanishes like a mirage.”
“Feels like getting an appetizer when you’re starving.”
“And it’s insanely delicious.”
Just thinking about it brought the feelings rushing back.
Acting with Seo-jun was like watching a world of black and white turn into full color.
“It made me remember why I love acting.”
“Yeah. It felt like I wasn’t even myself anymore.”
Even the trainers nodded, barely suppressing their laughter.
If they could feel that just from watching Seo-jun train, what must it be like to actually perform with him?
The actors—“hooked” by Seo-jun—came to Room B2 every chance they got.
“It’s about time, isn’t it?”
And now, another actor was about to join them.
“He’s here!”
Brian Goodell, watching the entrance, called out.
“Dan Kendrick?”
“He’s with Jun!”
Of course.
Success rate: 100%.
“…Don’t you think if Jun had gone into something else, it’d be terrifying?”
Like fraud… or running a cult…
The trainers whispered behind them while the actors lined up by the door to greet their new teammate.
And then—
“WELCOME!”
“Come on in!”
“Welcome aboard!”
Dan Kendrick blinked, caught off guard by the actors greeting him so enthusiastically as he followed behind Seo-jun.
“…So that’s how this happened.”
A few days later.
The New Age rep stared blankly as the stunt coordinator explained the situation.
“I honestly thought no one would use it…”
But far from empty, Room B2 was alive with energy from the actors training there.
There were barely a handful of them, but the passion they radiated filled the space.
“It’s all thanks to Jun.”
The stunt coordinator grinned, then added:
“Everyone’s been working so hard, I think we can raise the difficulty level for the action scenes. What do you think, Director Wilma?”
Director Wilma Evans, who’d been watching the actors with her jaw dropped, immediately lit up.
“That sounds great! As long as the actors are okay with it!”
Romance was important, sure—but those battle scenes were a big deal too.
More intense and elaborate action? Absolutely.
As the stunt and film directors discussed, someone else was moved to tears.
“This is amazing…”
Laura Welton, the original author, was practically sobbing as she watched the actors train.
To think they were all working this hard for New Eclipse. She couldn’t stop crying.
Seo-jun even handed her tissues.
“Wow! Is this really just practice?”
Grace Welton was amazed too.
The action scenes were already better than Flopclipse’s—even though that one had been polished with edits and post-production.
This was raw rehearsal—no costumes, no makeup.
Seo-jun smiled proudly at the reactions from the rep, director, and sisters.
All of them were actors he’d personally “reeled in.”
Then—
WHAM!
A mat the size of a person was violently slammed.
Dan Kendrick, the one who did it, had hit it so hard the trainer holding it staggered back a few steps.
“That trainer’s playing my role.”
“So that means Jun’s the one getting hit. Oof. That looked brutal.”
“Well…”
Seo-jun rolled his eyes slightly.
Because yes—it was brutal.
Dan Kendrick was probably thinking, Seo-jun Lee… through gritted teeth right now.
Seo-jun chuckled.
If he really hated it, he wouldn’t show up.
“Alright, I’ll head back to training.”
“Sure.”
Seo-jun, who had taken a short break to chat with the Welton sisters, headed toward the trainers—but then changed course and walked over to Dan.
“Dan. Since the director’s here too, what do you say we do a take as if it’s a real shoot? With everyone?”
“…Alright…”
Dan, who had just been imagining that mat was Seo-jun, sighed in resignation.
‘…He tosses out just enough carrots to keep me coming back.’
It was exhausting… but also exhilarating.
The other actors wore similar expressions, but they hurried into position all the same.
Excited and full of anticipation.
And moments later—
Under Seo-jun’s guidance, Room B2 transformed into a fierce battleground.
Lunchtime.
While eating at the training center cafeteria (the stunt coordinator, rep, and director had gone off to a meeting), Grace couldn’t stop gushing.
“That was insane! It looked so real! So intense! You guys were rolling around and taking hits like crazy. You didn’t really get hurt, did you?”
“It’s okay. It’s all choreographed.”
“Wow… but how are you all so in sync already? It hasn’t even been ten days! Sis, say something!”
She shook her dazed sister’s shoulder.
But Laura’s soul had yet to return from wherever Seo-jun’s performance had sent it.
“She’s out of it. Must’ve been really good.”
Grace shrugged. Seo-jun smiled.
“Looks like our hard work’s paying off.”
Laura remained in heaven with the baby angels, while Seo-jun and Grace continued eating and chatting.
“But there’s a lot of hand-to-hand combat, huh? In Flopclipse, they were using powers and CGI like it was a magic show.”
“Because we’re playing werewolves.”
Seo-jun explained:
“If they were vampires or mages or witches, we’d use more CGI and make it look flashy. In New Eclipse, the female lead’s a witch, so she’ll fight that way.”
But werewolves?
“People have a certain image of them—full moon transformations, enhanced strength, speed. Each author might tweak it, but the foundation is still ‘wolf.’”
Seo-jun smiled.
“Wolves don’t cast spells—they fight.”
“Aha.”
Grace nodded in understanding.
“So why did Flopclipse go the magic route?”
She recalled its CGI-laden fight scenes and immediately frowned.
Now that she thought about it, maybe that’s why something had always felt off.
They’d turned werewolves into wizards.
Seo-jun thought about it too.
Werewolves using magic and supernatural powers…
Sure, it might exist somewhere in the multiverse, but not in this world’s cultural expectation.
“Maybe they thought flashy action scenes would guarantee a hit.”
Without considering character consistency or world-building.
“Trash!”
That word brought Laura back from the clouds.
Startled, Seo-jun widened his eyes, but Grace just shrugged, unfazed.
“She always wakes up if you mention Flopclipse.”
Apparently, if Laura really wouldn’t wake up, all Grace had to do was whisper about Flopclipse.
Sure enough, Laura snapped back, glaring at Grace and slapping her on the back.
“Ow!”
“I meant for it to hurt!”
Seo-jun laughed.
Yep. Definitely sisters.
“But why’d you come today?”
He asked Grace.
She’d visited the training center on the first day out of curiosity, but hadn’t come again so she wouldn’t be a distraction.
Yet here she was.
Grace grinned.
“Tomorrow’s your birthday.”
Oh.
Seo-jun, who’d been so wrapped up in training, blinked in surprise.
“Came to celebrate early!”
That’s right.
Tomorrow, March 10th in Korean time, was Seo-jun’s birthday.