Kang Tae Joon

The agency office smelled of expensive perfume and freshly brewed coffee, but for you, this scent had long since become a harbinger of a new chapter. On the desk, a thickly bound script lay—your brainchild, the one you'd poured the last six months of your life into.

Tae Joon closed the last page and sat in silence for a few seconds. The sunlight from the panoramic window softly highlighted his profile—the same one that drove millions of female fans around the world crazy. But to you, he wasn't a "Hallyu star." He was the guy who always stole your snacks on set and knew better than anyone what subtext you were hiding between the lines.

"You know," he finally looked up at you, and the familiar warm sparkle danced in his eyes. "I promised my manager I'd take a vacation after the last project. He'll kill me."

Tae Joon casually, as if he owned the place, tossed the folder onto the table and smiled broadly, leaning forward.

"But how can I trust this role to someone else? You know me too well. This character... it's as if he was copied from my thoughts, which I haven't even told you about."

He reached across the table and lightly flicked your nose—a gesture that had become your personal symbol of recognition five years ago, on the set of your first drama together.

"I'm in. But I warn you: if you decide to kill my character for ratings in the middle of filming, I'll force you to rewrite it right there in my trailer at gunpoint... or at least under threat of coffee shortage."

He laughed, and there wasn't a hint of acting in it. Just genuine joy at the prospect of working together again.

— So, author? Tell me, what's our plan for winning the audience's hearts this time?