JOON'S POV
It wasn't nerves. I'd left that behind years ago. Lee Joonseo, known publicly as Joon. I knew my name had weight now. Not legendary, but loud enough to get a few heads to turn when I walked in. Still, I never let that get to me. There were always bigger names. Bigger rooms. Bigger chances.
This was one of them. A casting backed by Han Group. The kind of project that could shift careers. Not just for me. For anyone. I was ready. I had the script in my hand, my expressions in check, and my usual calm.Then she walked in.She wasn't part of the production team. You could tell by the way the producers subtly straightened their posture. The way assistants tried not to trip over themselves.
She didn't smile. Didn't greet anyone.She simply entered.Sharp heels on marble. Tailored suit hugging her posture like armor. Hair swept back. Eyes cold. She looked like someone who had no time to waste. Someone who'd seen this world too many times to be impressed by anything anymore.
"That's Jiyeon, the chairman's daughter," someone whispered behind me. " The next heir to Han Group."
She didn't look at anyone for long. Just a flick of the eyes. A sweep of the room.And then. For a second. She looked at me.Not recognition. Not surprise.Just a pause. Like something unfamiliar had briefly caught her attention.
It wasn't curiosity.It wasn't interest. But it was something. And I felt it.Only for her to blink. And move on.As if I was no different than the plant in the corner.
She took her seat. Legs crossed. Back straight. Expression unreadable. "If the team can't handle something this simple," I heard her murmur to the man beside her. "How can they expect me to take over the company?" Cold. Efficient.She didn't come to be impressed. She came to judge.
My name was called.I stepped forward. Eyes on the script. Not on her. Whatever that pause was.Whatever that flicker in her gaze meant.It didn't matter. Not now. Not when the camera was rolling.
She saw me first. And for now, she would be the only one pretending she didn't.
I arrived ten minutes early. Habit, not nerves.I knew most of the people in the room. I'd worked with some before. The director gave me a nod. The writer smiled politely. Everything felt normal. Professional. Expected.Then she walked in. Again.
Jiyeon.
I noticed. But I didn't react.
She wasn't here for me. And I wasn't here for her. That was clear from the start. She took her place at the end of the table. Notebook in hand. Her expression was solemn. She didn't spare me a glance. No greetings. No eye contact.Not that I was waiting for one.
I opened the script in front of me. Thumbed through the first act again. The lead's arc had changed slightly. More emotional depth. I made a mental note to adjust my tone for line 17.
"Let's ensure Han Group is portrayed tastefully," she said after a quick word with the producer. "Avoid unnecessary fanservice. We're aiming for class. Not chaos." Her voice was clipped. Her message clear.People nodded. No one challenged her. I didn't either.I knew how this worked.She was the money. I was the face.
Nothing personal.We read through the script.I did my job. Hit every note. Controlled. Smooth. Steady. If she was watching, I didn't notice.If she remembered our first meeting, I wouldn't know.And honestly? It didn't matter.
The soft tapping of Jiyeon's keyboard was the only sound in her office. No music. No small talk. Just the steady rhythm of a woman too busy to breathe. Surrounded by glass walls, silence, and the weight of her own expectations.
Jiyeon sat behind her sleek black desk. Hair tied back. Expression unreadable. The same way she'd been every day since she stepped in to take over half the company operations after her mother died.
Three meetings done. One pitch deck revised. And a reply from the legal team she'd been waiting two days for. She didn't have time for distractions. Not when her father still looked at her like she had something to prove.
"If you can't handle a production team, how will you handle Han Group?"
His voice still echoed in her head from last month. She wouldn't fail. She couldn't afford to.Not with that promise to her mother still stitched into her chest.
There was a soft knock on the glass door. "Come in," she said without looking up.
Her junior secretary, Minji, stepped in. Timid but urgent. "Miss Han… there's something you might want to see."
"Make it fast." Minji placed a tablet on the desk. The screen was open to a tabloid blog. Low-res paparazzi photos. A headline in bold.
Top Actor Seen With Mystery Singer. Late Night Rendezvous Sparks Dating Rumors
At first, Jiyeon didn't flinch.She was used to scandal. Noise. Rumors.That wasn't her concern.But when her eyes caught the name attached to the article.The name of their lead actor.Her fingers stilled. "Is it serious?" she asked quietly.
Minji bit her lip. "No statements yet. But it's already trending. Hashtag SecretAffair is climbing. Some fans are digging into his past. And, um… people are connecting it to our upcoming project."
That last line made her spine straighten. Jiyeon leaned back in her chair. Jaw tight.This can't happen. Not now. Not when we're this close. She closed the tablet and looked up at Minji.
"Clear my evening," she said sharply.
"No media. No team. Just book me a quiet table. I want to speak to him. Directly."
"Yes, Miss Han." Minji nodded and left.
And Jiyeon sat there. Still and silent.Her eyes flicking back to the headline she refused to read again.This wasn't jealousy.It was damage control.And no one. Not even a top actor. Was going to mess with what she was protecting.
A private café. Reserved under her name. Soft jazz drifted through the air, mingling with the warm lights and low murmurs around the room. Jiyeon arrived early. She didn't usually wait for people. People waited for her. But this time, she wanted to see him arrive. She wanted to observe before he noticed her.
And there he was. Right on time.Sitting by the window. Laughing into his phone. His voice was low, playful—too casual. He wasn't dressed up. Just a hoodie layered under a jacket, a cap tossed casually on the seat beside him.
But it was the way he smiled into that call that bothered her.Too charming. Too easy. Like he'd done it a hundred times with a hundred different women.
Her stomach twisted.So this is who he really is?Another idol who collects hearts and ruins names?She didn't realize she'd been frowning the whole walk to the table.
He looked up and ended the call immediately. No surprise in his eyes. Just a soft shift in his posture—calm, composed. "Director Ji ," he greeted with a slight nod. "You look like you've had a long day."
She sat down, arms folded.
"I'm here for clarity. Nothing else."
"Let me guess," he said, leaning back, his voice steady. "You saw the photos."
"And the headlines. And the call just now." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't look very concerned."
He tilted his head.
"Should I be?"
"That depends," she said coolly. "Are they true?"
A pause.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at her.Really looked,as if trying to decide how much of himself he wanted to give away.
"No," he said at last. "But I'm starting to think people will believe whatever version of me fits their narrative.She didn't flinch, but her voice dropped slightly."You're saying there's nothing going on?"
"With the singer?" His brows rose. "No. She's dating her choreographer. I was helping her dodge cameras."
"And the call just now?"
He smiled faintly."My niece. She's six. Wanted me to hear a song she made up about frogs and cake."
Jiyeon blinked.He was lying.He had to be.Right?She looked away, suddenly unsure.
"You have a reputation," she said tightly.
"They say you date around. That you use your name to get what you want."
He didn't laugh. Didn't scoff. He simply breathed in, slow and quiet."Do you believe all that?"
She didn't answer.
He leaned forward slightly. "I've kissed women on-screen, Jiyeon. That's my job. But off-screen? I haven't dated seriously in years. I've seen what the spotlight does to people. I don't fall easily. Not because I'm cold, but because I'm careful."
Another pause.
"Let people talk. I know who I am."
Her fingers curled tighter around the coffee cup.For a moment, she wished he was like the rumors.Because then it would be easier to hate him.Easier to keep her distance.Easier not to… wonder. She was just starting to believe him. Just starting to think that maybe.Just maybe,he wasn't the type the headlines made him out to be.
He said it wasn't true.He said he didn't fall in love easily.He said he wasn't that kind of man.And for a moment, she believed him.Until she saw her.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of high heels cutting through soft jazz. The kind of entrance that didn't just turn heads. It owned the room.
She was beautiful.Hair styled to flawlessness. Heels sharp. Lips a red that could kill reputations.And she didn't hesitate. She walked straight to their table.
"Oppa," the woman said with a soft pout, placing a hand on his arm like she'd done it a hundred times. "So this is where you've been hiding."
He looked up. His face tensed, barely. But Jiyeon didn't miss it.
"I called you last night," the woman continued sweetly. "You didn't answer. I figured you were with someone… but I didn't expect her."
Her gaze shifted toward Jiyeon. Slow. Calculating. Then widened with a gasp that was a little too theatrical. "Oh. Wow. You're Han Jiyeon, aren't you?"
Jiyeon said nothing.She didn't need to. Her eyes did enough.
"You're meeting like this?" the woman added with a light laugh. "How unexpected. You two make such a… mysterious pair."
Her hand still rested on his arm.And the fact that he didn't pull away made something inside Jiyeon twist.
So this is the kind of man he really is. Charming lies. Cheap words. Quiet affairs behind expensive curtains.Of course.She should have known.Jiyeon stood slowly. Her expression looked visibly annoyed, jaw tight and eyes narrowed.. "Well… I've seen enough."."
He opened his mouth. "Wait, Ji—"
"I see now why you didn't answer directly," she said, her voice cold as glass. "You weren't lying. You were just… performing." She turned and walked away. Didn't look back.
Behind her, the woman leaned in toward him and whispered—just loud enough for only him to hear. "She looked hurt. So that is something, isn't it?"