The tension hadn’t fully settled.
The lead actor had reluctantly redone the scene, the director had nodded stiffly, and the staff had returned to their tasks.
But the air still felt heavy.
Minra could feel the weight of the unspoken judgment still lingering on her.
No one had forgotten what just happened.
And worse—
Now, she had been noticed.
Shuun had shifted beside her, still standing close, still watching the aftermath with that unreadable look in his eyes.
Like he wasn’t bothered at all by what had just happened.
But Minra wasn’t stupid.
He might not care about what they thought—
But he cared that they reacted at all.
And that was when another voice cut through the set.
Smooth. Warm. Controlled.
“Alright, let’s not turn this into something bigger than it is.”
Minra barely had time to turn before a figure stepped forward.
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Jang Yohan.
The lead actor.
The nation’s beloved golden boy.
And the person who had just deliberately let the tension sit before stepping in.
.
Yohan smiled—effortless, charming.
Like he had just arrived at the tail-end of the situation.
Like he had no idea what had just unfolded.
But Minra saw it—
The way his gaze flicked toward Shuun first.
And then, after a calculated beat, he looked at her.
“I’m sure our crew assistant here didn’t mean any harm.”
Minra felt something cold crawl down her spine.
Because those words—those specific words—
Were meant to make her seem small.
Like she was just some inconsequential assistant who had accidentally spoken out of turn.
Like she wasn’t someone worth taking seriously.
And it worked.
The staff immediately started relaxing.
The tense shoulders.
The sharp glares.
They all began to ease.
Because if Jang Yohan—the face of the production, the charming lead actor everyone adored—
Was saying to let it go—
Then everyone would.
.
Minra clenched her fist, fingers twitching against her clipboard.
She wanted to say something.
But what?
Deny it?
Insist that she meant exactly what she said?
That would only make her look worse.
So instead, she stayed quiet.
But Shuun?
He wasn’t quiet.
Minra barely had time to process it before he let out a low scoff.
Tch.
It was quiet.
Barely audible.
But Yohan heard it.
Because his eyes flickered—just slightly.
And that was when Minra understood.
Yohan had done it on purpose.
He could have stepped in before Shuun backed her up.
He could have stopped the backlash before she became a target.
But he hadn’t.
Instead, he had let Shuun take the hit first.
And then, only after Shuun’s personality took the damage, Yohan stepped in like he was the reasonable one.
The smoother one.
The better one.
This wasn’t just easing tension.
This was a move.
A carefully calculated knock against Shuun’s presence, making him look worse in comparison.
And Minra?
She was the pawn.
.
The staff dispersed. The scene moved on.
But the tension between Shuun and Yohan didn’t.
Minra could feel it.
The way Shuun hadn’t moved.
The way Yohan hadn’t fully left yet.
They weren’t speaking.
They didn’t have to.
Because this wasn’t a conversation.
This was a silent battle.
And Minra?
She was right in the middle of it.
Again.
.
Chapter 4: The Actor Who Sees Through It All