My Noona is Obsessed with Turning Me into a Star!

Chapter 6: The Script Reading and New Faces

Jae-min stood in front of the bathroom mirror, absently running his fingers through his hair. It had been a week since he got the script for City of Lies. He wasn’t obsessing over it, but he had read it enough to feel comfortable. Tae-seok, his character, wasn’t just a role anymore—he was starting to feel like he knew him. But today’s script reading was something different. He’d be meeting the rest of the cast, a blend of seasoned actors and, like him, a few fresh faces.

He checked his reflection one last time, the faint hum of excitement lingering under his usually calm exterior.

Just then, the bathroom door flew open without a knock—Jin-ah, of course. She never bothered with knocking.

Jae-min glanced at her through the mirror, half-smirking. “Knocking is still an option, you know. What if I was doing something else?”

Jin-ah’s eyes flicked over his bare chest, but she played it cool. “What, staring at yourself in the mirror? Trust me, I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“Harsh,” Jae-min chuckled, pulling on a shirt. As he turned away, Jin-ah’s gaze briefly flicked over him, taking in the casual ease of his movements. His lean, athletic build was evident, the kind of physique that seemed effortlessly maintained, though she knew better. She didn’t linger long—just enough to catch the hint of definition in his back and shoulders before he slid the shirt on.

Jin-ah crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, shaking off her momentary distraction. “You ready for this? It’s a big day.”

Jae-min shrugged, his tone laid-back but honest. “I’ve been going over the script. I’m ready. Not winging it, I promise.”

“Good,” Jin-ah replied, giving him a playful look. “Because if you screw this up, it’s your potential going down the drain, not mine.”

Jae-min grinned, running a hand through his hair. “So, no pressure then?”

Jin-ah smirked, her eyes softening just a little. “I’m not worried. I just want to see you give it everything you’ve got. You don’t half-ass things once you commit.”

Jae-min chuckled, appreciating her confidence in him. “You know me too well.”

“Just don’t get too cocky,” she added with a teasing smile. “Even if you do have the role.”

Jae-min laughed softly. “Relax, Noona. I’m not coasting. I’ve got this.”

“Alright,” she said, her tone softening just a little. “You look the part. Now, go and act like you deserve it.”

With a final smirk, Jae-min grabbed his jacket. “You coming with?”

Jin-ah waved him off. “No need for me to babysit you. Just don’t embarrass me.”

Jae-min rolled his eyes, pushing past her toward the door. “I’ll be fine, Noona. You’ve done enough worrying for the both of us.”

Jin-ah smiled, shaking her head as he left the apartment.

The studio buzzed with low chatter when Jae-min walked in. He glanced around at the mixture of seasoned actors, production staff, and a few fresh faces like his own. Though the other new faces had actual acting experience or background. The room had a professional air, yet it wasn’t overly stiff. It felt real. A proper drama, he thought to himself. The reality of the situation was sinking in. This wasn’t just some casual gig—he was in a project with a real production team, and they had a top actress like Yoo-ri as the lead. This was big.

His eyes found the chair with his name on it, a few seats away from the head of the table where the director would sit. The chair next to the director’s spot was empty, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Jae-min caught a few glances from others in the room, their eyes not on him but on the woman now seated in that prime spot.

Yoo-ri.

Everyone knew her. She was a household name in Korean dramas, her face associated with intense, emotionally charged roles that made waves across the country. Jae-min wasn’t the type to be starstruck, but seeing her here—casually flipping through her script—was a sharp reminder that he was stepping into a different world. This is serious, he thought. They’ve even got a star like her in the lead.

As he settled into his chair, Yoo-ri looked up, her expression calm and professional. She gave him a brief once-over before speaking, her tone neutral but not unkind.

“You’re playing Tae-seok, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jae-min replied, flashing her a casual smile. “And you’re playing Ji-won?”

Yoo-ri raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “That’s right. You didn’t know?”

Jae-min chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I might’ve heard a rumor,” he said, his tone light and teasing.

The corners of Yoo-ri’s mouth twitched, her smirk softening into something more genuine. Despite her high-profile reputation, there was something relaxed about the way she responded, a stark contrast to the reserved, distant image people might expect from a top actress like her.

Jae-min felt himself relax even more, his usual laid-back attitude coming back in full swing. She’s actually pretty cool, he thought, mildly surprised that Yoo-ri was being this friendly. Then, in typical Jae-min fashion, he chalked it up to his looks. Guess being handsome pays off, he mused with a playful grin.

Before he could dwell on it, Yoo-ri leaned back in her chair, studying him for a moment. “First drama?” she asked.

“Is it that obvious?” Jae-min quipped, though his easy smile never wavered.

Yoo-ri’s eyes glinted with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Kind of,” she replied, still professional, but her earlier formality softened. “You’ll get the hang of it. It’s all about finding the rhythm.”

“Thanks,” Jae-min replied, appreciating the advice. He could see other actors in the room occasionally glancing their way, maybe a bit curious about his laid-back demeanor in front of someone like Yoo-ri. But that was just him—he didn’t get easily fazed. Still, he was starting to understand that this was a different league.

Before he could say more, Yoo-ri continued. “Don’t worry too much. You’ve got the look for Tae-seok, and the lines will come naturally once you get into it.”

Jae-min grinned. “So, I just have to show up and look good?”

Yoo-ri let out a soft chuckle at that, the first real laugh of the conversation. “Not quite, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Jae-min leaned back in his chair, feeling more at ease. For a moment, he reflected on how easy the conversation had been with her. Given her stature in the industry, he’d expected more distance, maybe even a bit of formality. But here she was, giving him advice and smiling at his jokes. Not bad, he thought. Maybe I’m better at this than I thought.

Just then, he caught himself. Stay grounded, he reminded himself. There’s a lot to learn here.

Just then, the director called everyone to attention, and the chatter died down. Jae-min glanced around the table—some faces were tense, others focused. He straightened up in his chair, feeling a quiet anticipation building in his chest as the first lines were read.

The room settled into the rhythm of the script. Jae-min was assigned one of the earlier scenes with Yoo-ri, where Tae-seok is trying to charm Detective Ji-won into giving him information. As the scene unfolded, Jae-min felt a spark of excitement. The banter between their characters flowed naturally, and with each line he delivered, he found himself unexpectedly immersed in the role.

To his surprise, it was starting to feel... good.

“‘Detective,’” Jae-min said, slipping into Tae-seok’s easy confidence, his voice smooth but playful. “‘You’re good at your job, I’ll give you that. But everyone has their limits. Let me help... we might even have some fun.’”

Yoo-ri, as Ji-won, lifted her gaze from the script, her voice cool and controlled. “‘Fun isn’t in my job description, Tae-seok. And neither is trusting reporters who think they can charm their way into confidential information.’”

Jae-min, as Tae-seok, leaned back, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “‘Oh, come on, Detective. You can trust me. I’m only after the truth… same as you.’”

Yoo-ri shot him a look as sharp as a blade, her voice cutting. “‘The truth? The only truth I see is that you’ll say whatever it takes to get your story. Stay out of my way.’”

Jae-min gave a chuckle, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper, playful but pointed. “‘We both know I’m not going anywhere, Detective. You’ll come around.’”

The back-and-forth was natural, and Jae-min felt the energy between their characters growing. Despite the differences in experience, Yoo-ri didn’t treat him like a rookie. Instead, she fed off his energy, playing off his charm with her own sharp delivery.

After they finished the first round of readings, Yoo-ri leaned over and smirked. “Not bad. I thought you were a rookie?”

Jae-min shrugged, flashing her an easy smile. “Still am. Just trying to keep up.”

“You’re doing more than just keeping up,” she replied, her voice dropping to a softer tone, almost teasing. “Whatever you’re doing, keep at it. It suits you.”

Jae-min chuckled, feeling the excitement build again. He wasn’t just getting by—he was starting to enjoy the challenge.

Later that evening, Jae-min collapsed onto his couch, staring up at the ceiling. The script reading had gone better than he’d expected. He hadn’t been treated like a total rookie, and Yoo-ri’s comments had stuck with him. It wasn’t every day a famous actress like her gave out compliments so freely.

His phone buzzed, and he instinctively knew who it was. Jin-ah, of course.

Jin-ah: “How’d it go?”

Jae-min smirked, typing back.

Jae-min: “Not bad. They didn’t kick me out.”

Jin-ah: “See? Told you. You can handle this.”

Jae-min: “I guess you’re right. For once.”

Jin-ah: “I’m always right. You’re just slow to realize it.”

Jae-min laughed, tossing his phone onto the table beside him. The day had been a success, and for the first time in a while, he felt that quiet spark of passion igniting inside him. Maybe acting wasn’t just something he was doing for fun—maybe it was something he could really dive into.

But for now, he was just going to enjoy the moment.