✧ kitty;

i haven't spoken to min ho since that night. not really, at least.

sure, we've exchanged words during rehearsals, gone through lines, talked about the film. but beyond that? silence.

and it's not just any silence—it's a heavy, careful one. the kind that makes my chest tight and my stomach uneasy.

every time i catch min ho looking at me, he looks through me instead. like i'm just another castmate. like nothing happened between us. i guess it's my fault too. i'm the one that ran away and never apologized to addressed it.

it's wednesday morning, and we're in the small theater, preparing for another rehearsal. dae is here, script in hand, getting into character. i know professor alex is still testing the chemistry between us before making a final decision.

dae has been... good. too good. he makes the dialogue sound effortless, plays the piano parts without missing a note, and when we rehearse our scenes, it's obvious why he was cast in the first place.

he's charismatic. charming. his lines come out naturally.

so why does it still feel wrong?

i shift uncomfortably in my chair as i flip through the script. we're about to rehearse scene sixteen, one of the biggest turning points in the film. it's right before mia and sebastian fall in love—right before the dance scene at sunset that changes everything.

and yet, as i sit next to dae, getting ready to perform it, there's this void. something missing.

professor alex claps his hands. "okay, let's run this. dae, kitty—whenever you're ready."

dae turns to me, flashing a small, nervous smile. "ready?"

i nod. "yeah."

we start the scene.

at first, it's fine. i go through my lines, my voice steady, my movements natural. but as the scene progresses, the closer we get to the moment where mia and sebastian start feeling something for each other, i realize...

i can't feel it.

not like before.

not like when i rehearsed this same scene in my head, only hearing min ho's voice instead of dae's.

my mind betrays me, filling in the gaps with the wrong person. the way min ho's eyes darken when he gets serious. the way his voice lingers on my name. the way he would've held this moment if he were the one sitting across from me.

get it together, kitty.

but even professor alex notices. after we finish, he rubs his chin, looking deep in thought.

"hmm."

dae and i exchange a glance. professor alex flips through his notes. "this is good, but... something's off."

oh god. i'm literally ruining everything right now.

he leans back in his chair. "i want to see more vulnerability. more longing. right now, it's feeling like two friends talking instead of two people on the verge of falling in love."

my stomach drops.

i glance at min ho and in the first time in awhile, we make eye contact. but he quickly looks down. professor alex sighs. "let's take five."

as soon as he says it, i head towards the exit, needing to get out of there. but dae catches my wrist.

"kitty."

i stop.

he doesn't say anything right away. his fingers loosen around my wrist, and for a second, i think he's about to let me go.

but then he speaks.

"i know why this isn't working," he says quietly. dae gives me a look, one that's too knowing, too gentle, "you don't have to keep pretending for me."

i open my mouth to deny it—to say what are you talking about?—but the words don't come.

because i know he's right. i have been pretending.

but it's not because i don't care about dae.

it's because i care too much.

dae isn't just a friend to me—he's family. he always has been. and the thought of hurting him? it makes me sick.

he's one of the few people in my life who's always been there. one of the few constants i could count on. since our moms were best friends, he feels like a direct link to her.

and after losing her... after having the void of losing someone you love in your life...

i can't do that to him. i won't.

dae's voice pulls me back, "you need to do this with him, kitty."

my throat tightens.

with him.

i don't say anything. i can't. instead, i turn and walk away.

—

✧ min ho;

rehearsal ends, and i leave the theater as fast as i can.

i can't be around her right now.

it's stupid. i know it is. but watching kitty with dae—watching them act out that scene, watching her try to feel something that wasn't there—it messed me up more than i want to admit.

i shouldn't care. i shouldn't feel anything at all. but i do.

i get back to my apartment and head straight for the piano, because if i don't find something else to focus on, i'll go insane.

i sit down, placing my fingers on the keys, but my mind is racing too much for them to move.

she pulled away and then acted like nothing happened. like these whole semester between us was nonexistent.

i should've known better.

love isn't real. happy endings don't exist. i saw that firsthand with my parents. i should've learned my lesson a long time ago.

and yet, i let myself hope.

i let myself think that maybe, just maybe, kitty and i could be different.

but i was wrong and now, i have to deal with the fact that i put myself out there—again—only to be shut out.

the frustration burns in my chest, and before i can stop myself, my hands slam down on the piano keys, filling the room with a harsh, jarring sound.

i drop my head onto the keys, exhaling shakily.

i should've known.

love isn't meant for me.

i sit there for a while, staring at nothing, until a knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

for a second, i think maybe—maybe—it's kitty.

but when i open the door, it's not.

it's dae.

i tense, my grip tightening on the doorknob. "what do you want?"

dae exhales. "i dropped out of the film."

what the fuck?

"professor alex doesn't know yet," dae continues, rubbing the back of his neck. "but... i wanted you to hear it from me."

i narrow my eyes. "why?"

dae holds my gaze, and for once, there's no resentment there. no jealousy. just understanding.

"because," he says simply, "this role belongs to you."

the words hit me harder than i expect.

i should be relieved. i should be happy that i don't have to watch kitty pretend to fall in love with him anymore.

but all i can think about is one thing:

this is just a movie. just a role. none of it is real.

i stare at dae, waiting for him to take it back, to say something else. but he just nods once and turns away, leaving me standing at my door.

alone.

again.