Milo:

I stared at the script in front of me, the words blurring together as I tried to make sense of my character’s lines. It had been days since I got the part, and I’d been practically living with the script ever since. My brain felt fried, and yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to know every single line by heart before the table read. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe it was just the pressure of wanting to prove myself, but I couldn’t let it go.

The apartment was quiet, except for the occasional clatter of dishes in the kitchen. Dak-ho was making breakfast, something I’d barely been able to focus on since I got the script. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten much in the past couple of days. But the script… it was all-consuming.

“Milo,” Dak-ho’s voice broke through my concentration. “You gonna eat, man? You’ve been at that thing for days.”

I blinked, finally tearing my eyes away from the page to look at him. He was leaning against the counter, a plate of food in his hand, watching me with a mix of concern and amusement.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, though I wasn’t entirely sure I believed it. “Just… trying to get this down before the table read.”

Dak-ho shook his head, chuckling softly. “You know you don’t need to know it by heart for a table read, right? It’s just a first pass—you’re allowed to stumble over the lines.”

I knew he was right, but I couldn’t help the pressure I felt. This was my chance, and I didn’t want to blow it. “I know, but I want to be ready. I don’t want to look like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Kwan, who had been sitting quietly at the table, nodded in agreement with Dak-ho, but then added, “What exactly does your part entail?”

I glanced at him, grateful for the distraction. Kwan was always the calm one, the pretty face that kept the group grounded. “I don’t know all the details yet,” I admitted. “But I know I’ll be on horseback a lot in the first episode. It’s some kind of historical drama, so there’s going to be a lot of action.”

Dak-ho and Kwan exchanged a look, and I could tell they were thinking the same thing. Dak-ho raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Milo, have you ever ridden a horse before?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it, realizing that I actually hadn’t. The closest I’d ever gotten was one of those kiddie rides at an amusement park when I was five. “Uh… not really,” I admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

Kwan tilted his head, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Might be something you want to figure out before you start filming. They’re probably going to expect you to at least know the basics.”

I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. “Great. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.”

Dak-ho laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to him. They probably have training for stuff like that. You won’t be the only one clueless about riding a horse.”

I sighed, knowing he was probably right. I pushed the script aside and grabbed a plate, trying to push the nerves away for now. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll eat.”

Just as I was about to take my first bite, the door to our apartment burst open, and in came the rest of the crew—Yoo, Jae-sung, and Daiki, all from the apartment across the hall. It was like clockwork every morning; they’d come over to raid our kitchen because, according to them, Dak-ho was the only one who actually knew how to cook.

“Morning, everyone!” Yoo announced, his usual enthusiasm barely contained as he bounced into the room. Jae-sung trailed behind, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed—hair sticking up in all directions, and his clothes slightly askew. He grunted something that vaguely resembled a greeting as he slumped into a chair.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Dak-ho just shook his head with a grin, sliding a plate of food over to Jae-sung. “Eat first, then talk.”

Jae-sung gave a sleepy nod, already shovelling food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Yoo, however, had all his energy focused on me. He grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the table, practically vibrating with excitement. “Milo! Big day coming up. You excited for the table read next week?”

Before I could answer, Daiki scoffed from across the table. “More like, is he ready?” He rolled his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the jab. Daiki had been like this ever since I told him about getting the part in the drama. I knew he was jealous, but that didn’t make his attitude any easier to deal with.

Yoo shot Daiki a glare, but the tension was already there, hanging in the air between us. “Of course he’s ready,” Yoo said, trying to keep the mood light. “Milo’s been busting his ass on this. He’s going to nail it.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Daiki muttered under his breath, poking at his food with a fork. He’d always been cocky, but ever since I landed this role, he’d been extra salty about everything. It was like he couldn’t stand the idea of me doing something he hadn’t done yet.

Dak-ho must have noticed the shift in the room, because he clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “Alright, alright. Let’s not start the day with this crap. Milo’s got this, and we’re all going to support him, right?”

Kwan nodded, adding his quiet support. “You’ll do fine, Milo. Just focus on the script, and don’t let anything else get to you. You’ve got enough on your plate with your knee still healing.”

I appreciated their words, but it was Kwan’s quiet concern that really hit home. He was always looking out for my health, especially since the knee injury, and I knew he meant well. But even with his support, Daiki’s attitude was starting to get under my skin. I wasn’t about to let it show, though. The last thing I needed was to give Daiki the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me.

“Thanks, guys,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’ll be ready. Just need to get through this script, and I’ll be good.”

Daiki shrugged, not bothering to hide his skepticism. “Better hope you don't stumble. Wouldn’t want you making a fool of yourself on set.”

I shot him a look but didn’t take the bait. He was just trying to get a rise out of me, and I wasn’t going to give him that.

Dak-ho slid another plate of banchan in front of me, his expression serious. “Don’t worry about him. You’ve got this, Milo.”

As if he could sense the tension in the room, he steered the conversation away from the drama and onto something they all needed to focus on. “Alright, enough about the table read,” he said, his tone shifting to something more business-like. “We’ve got dance rehearsals this afternoon, and we can’t afford to slack off. Even with Milo’s new gig, we’ve still got our comeback in three months, and we need to be on point.”

Before the conversation could fully shift, Daiki couldn’t resist taking another shot. “Just hope your injury doesn’t hold us back,” he muttered, his tone dripping with that familiar sarcasm again.

I clenched my jaw, the words stinging more than I wanted to admit. Before I could respond, though, Jae-sung finally snapped out of his sleepy daze. Without missing a beat, he reached over and slapped Daiki across the back of his head, ruffling his perfectly coiffed hair. “Shut up, Daiki. Quit it with the attitude,” Jae-sung grumbled, his voice rough with sleep but his words carrying weight.

Daiki’s eyes flashed with irritation, and for a moment, it looked like he might snap back. But then he seemed to think better of it, his expression hardening as he stood up abruptly. “Whatever,” he muttered, storming off toward the door. “I’m outta here.”

We all watched as Daiki slammed the door behind him, the tension in the room lingering for a moment before it finally began to dissipate.

“Let him cool off,” Dak-ho said, his voice steady. But then, ever the leader, he added, “I’ll go talk to him in a bit. We can’t afford this kind of tension. I’ve got to make sure he’s good. You know how he is—just needs to blow off some steam.”

Yoo, always trying to keep the mood light, jumped back in with a grin. “So, about those new dance moves—Milo, you in?”

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, I’m in. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, and I don’t want to fall behind.”

Kwan nodded in agreement. “We need to stay sharp.”

“Good,” Dak-ho said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finish up breakfast and head to the studio. We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

With Daiki gone, the tension in the room finally eased up a bit, but I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach. I know I shouldn’t let him get to me, this isn’t how I wanted to kick off my morning. I knew we’d have to hash it out sooner or later, but right now, we had bigger things to focus on.