Chapter 28: Script Read-Through

Late at night.

The automatic doors of the convenience store chimed. A calico cat was curled up, dozing in a cardboard box. As Kang Jae-hoon approached, the cat’s ears suddenly pricked up like radar. The cat’s pupils reflected the stranger’s silhouette beneath chestnut-colored bangs, and it instantly arched its back, letting out a threatening hiss.

"Don't you recognize me?"

He crouched down and rattled a can. Seeing the cat remained in a defensive posture, Kang set the opened can on the edge of the step and retreated to the fire hydrant. The scent of the tuna wafted through the moonlight for two minutes before a paw tentatively reached out. The cat’s nose twitched, and its whiskers, smeared with fish paste, turned toward the hydrant. After a five-second standoff, the cat’s tail slowly wound around his ankle.

The voice-activated lights in the stairwell illuminated each floor as he climbed to the fifth. Lee Sung-kyung’s new lint roller lay beside the fire hydrant. By the light of the stairwell, Kang examined the roller—the adhesive paper, which had been snow-white just last week, was now gray and frayed at the edges. He lifted his pant leg and rolled it from ankle to knee; the shed orange-and-white fur of the calico formed an abstract painting on the sticky surface.

As he inserted his key into the lock, Kang heard the sound of a yoga mat rubbing against the floor. Lee Sung-kyung was doing a handstand against the living room wall, her sports bra rolled up below her ribs. Her calf muscles were taut in a beautiful arc, and her inverted gaze swept over his hair:

"You look like a chestnut that's gained sentience."

"..."

Even after two years of living together, Kang Jae-hoon still hadn't developed full immunity to her sharp-tongued attacks. Holding the plastic bag, he silently moved to the refrigerator, placing the low-fat yogurt Lee had requested in the "Holy Land" section, while tucking the meat he’d packed from the barbecue restaurant into his own "Junkyard."

Lee Sung-kyung slowly slid down, the tops of her feet pressing against the wall:

"That photo of yours..."

Kang’s body stiffened. He played dumb: "What photo?"

As her toes touched the floor, they stirred a breeze scented with lavender. She picked up a towel to wipe away her sweat, her gaze sweeping over Kang’s reddening earlobes as she teased:

"The melancholy chestnut gazing at the ceiling at a forty-five-degree angle."

Kang’s hand tightened on the refrigerator door:

"That was... a slip of the finger!"

"Ha..."

The force with which she rolled up her yoga mat was heavier than usual, masking the sound of her laughter.

Before closing her bedroom door, Lee Sung-kyung added, "The photo is more pleasing to the eye than the real thing."

*Click.*

The moonlight from outside the security window leaked in, cutting diagonally across the refrigerator door and pinning Kang’s hesitant shadow onto the food container at the border between the "Holy Land" and the "Junkyard."

Early August, 3:00 PM.

The air conditioning at the SBS studio was running high, and the collar of Kang Jae-hoon’s shirt fluttered slightly. He gave his chestnut bangs one final adjustment in the elevator mirror. The moment the doors opened, flashbulbs buzzed like a swarm of bees. Kang reflexively turned his head—entertainment reporters were lying in wait, capturing the actors' first arrivals.

After bowing to the media, he followed the staff’s directions to a conference room with a prominent metal sign hanging on the door: *[The Heirs - First Script Reading]*.

The long table inside was covered with off-white velvet, with nameplates arranged according to the weight of the roles. Before Kang could find his seat, he was drawn by Park Hyung-sik’s greeting:

"Over here!"

He turned to see Park waving at him.

"Hello, I’m the rookie actor Kang Jae-hoon."

"Hello, senior."

"Please take care of me."

"..."

Amidst the chorus of pleasantries, Kang finally found his seat labeled *[Yoon Chan-young]* after his seventh "please take care of me."

Once Kang was seated, Kim Ji-won suddenly held her script up like a shield, poked the back of Krystal Jung’s hand with her fingertip, and whispered:

"That’s the guy you’re supposed to call Oppa in the show."

Krystal’s eyelashes fluttered. She pushed her iced Americano—the straw bitten flat—half an inch away. Pretending to tidy her bangs, she swept a glance over Kang’s neatly trimmed sideburns—the chestnut tips swayed slightly in the air conditioning, making the shadow his nose bridge cast on the script dance as well. His shirt, buttoned to the very top, looked overly formal yet strangely fitting amidst a room full of casual T-shirts.

"Three o'clock position, your on-screen partner is peeking at you," Park Hyung-sik whispered.

When Kang looked up, he locked eyes with her before she could look away. Her bare face was smaller than it appeared on screen; when she bit her straw, her cheeks puffed out, bearing a seventy-percent resemblance to Im Yoona, though the corners of her eyes drooped slightly, giving her a childlike quality that contradicted her cold expression.

Noticing Kang’s gaze, Krystal quickly lowered her head, bit down on her straw, and began studying a nonexistent crease in her clothing, as if her previous glance had just been the result of the air conditioning blowing her eyelashes askew.

"You're holding the script upside down."

"Huh?"

Krystal hurriedly flipped the script, only to discover that the adjustment had actually made it upside down.

"Unnie!"

She turned to glare indignantly at Kim Ji-won. Kim pursed her lips and chuckled, lifting her eyes to glance at Kang Jae-hoon, who was whispering with Park Hyung-sik.

"Should we pull those two in?"

"What?"

Park Hyung-sik suddenly tilted his phone screen at a forty-five-degree angle. The chat interface showed a group named *[Heirs Survival Alliance (3)]*.

"Are you that close with them?"

"Don't you get close after filming?"

Before he could finish, Park grabbed his arm and stood up, bowing ninety degrees toward the door. Kang turned to see screenwriter Kim Eun-sook walk in, surrounded by assistants, and immediately stood up to bow as well.

"Writer-nim."

"Scriptwriter Kim-nim."

"..."

Everyone else rose just as quickly to offer their greetings. Kim Eun-sook nodded at them with a smile, her gaze lingering on Kang Jae-hoon for half a second:

"Nice hairstyle."

Everyone’s eyes followed Kim’s gaze—the suddenly singled-out Kang was trying to hide behind Kang Ha-neul to avoid the collective attention. Park Shin-hye suddenly let out a snort, then quickly covered her mouth and lowered her head. This time, Krystal openly scrutinized Kang, only to be nudged by Kim Ji-won’s elbow.

"Everyone, please sit."

Once the conference room had gone completely quiet, Kim Eun-sook began:

"My casting criteria for this drama wasn't based on acting resumes, but on the moments during auditions that gave me goosebumps."

"Remember that look you gave me that moved me, and hold onto it until the day we wrap."

The cast list for Kim Eun-sook’s new drama, released by the SBS official website at 10:00 AM, was being shared frantically. From 10:00 AM to 3:00 PM, the Naver real-time search term #HeirsCastingAbsurd# had climbed from 27th to 15th place.

Forum threads were popping up with titles like *[Kim Eun-sook has lost her touch]*. Below them were comments like "Can idols even act?" or "Kim must have been paid to cast them," all casting doubt on the production. After all, aside from the leads, the main supporting cast were all rookies with little name recognition and questionable acting skills, so it was only natural for netizens to be skeptical.

Having finished encouraging everyone, Kim Eun-sook returned to her kindly smile:

"Now, let's go around and introduce ourselves. Lee Min-ho, you go first."

"Yes."