Moon's Pov
My lips curl into a soft smile as applause rains down like an avalanche, crashing over me In waves of thunderous approval.
The claps echo through the room, bouncing off the walls and wrapping around me like a warm, unexpected embrace.
I hadn't anticipated this, had not anticipated the applause, nor the eyes glittering with awe. Not even the way Mr Whitemore eyes rank with genuine admiration when he praised my performance. It felt amazingly spectacular.
"Thank you so much, Mr Whitmore," I say, my voice light with appreciation as I give a small nod of gratitude. And I mean every word.
I let out a soft laugh as I catch sight of the judges expressions. A mix of confusion, surprise, and something close to disbelief still linger on their faces.
It was almost funny how lost they looked before Mr Whitmore spoke up. Like they were unsure whether I had truly acted or had simply lost my mind on stage.
But not Mr Whitmore. His eyes had been perceptively sharp and focused. He had seen right through the surface and caught on to what I was doing and I must commend that.
He truly lived up to the name whispered across all acting industries. The best of them all. The man who could spot gold in a hip of rubble.
But still, I couldn't help but wonder—why hadn't the other auditionees figured it out?
They had all been stuck on one repetitive scene. Crying over and over again. Like tears alone could carry the soul of a broken character.
Did none of them think it might grow tiresome? Did they believe the director will be moved by the same display a dozen times in a row?
I shrug to myself, amusement curling my lips further.
Well, that's what happens when you think smart. My acting stood out because it was like a fresh breath of air in a room thick with smoke.
Everyone else had done the obvious, but I gave something different. Something the director they didn't even know he was waiting for.
And the truth is, it hadn't felt like acting at all. It had felt like I was just living—no, reliving.
Like I had cracked open a door to my past life and stepped through it.
The protagonist of this tragic story suffered so much in her marriage. Betrayed and humiliated, the mistress who not only stole her husband but murdered her father.
In the story, Yun Na had been thrown away like trash, forced to survive in a world that showed her no mercy.
Only one person had come to her rescue. One man in a friend's form, who had once laid his heart bare to her, but she had turned him down, blinded by his love for a man who would eventually discard her.
And now, she. She had nothing left, he was the only one who stood by her.
While the other auditionees had chosen the infamous crying scene—Yun Na being thrown out in a blizzard—I picked the one that came after.
The quiet moment of reflection. When the stillness of moving on overwhelmingly held her down. The after ache, the restraint and finally her strength.
In the script, the male lead she had once rejected would hold her and comfort her in silence.
And when the I went still, when the judges thought I had lost my voice, it was simply the part, where the male lead comforts the protagonist. They just hadn't even realized it, but Mr Whitmore had.
Still, I couldn't take all the credit. My eyes lifts and find him. The man who had stepped into the stage without a word.
He looked strikingly reserved with a miles temperament at a glance. I had been so immersed in the role that I hadn't noticed when he joined me.
We had never met before or rehearsed, yet, somehow, we moved in perfect sync.
Was he a cast already? Or a fellow actor? And William—what was with the unnecessary clearing of his throat earlier? His attitude was baffling.
But then again, none of it did matter. What mattered was—
"That was spectacular!" another judge exclaimed, his voice cutting through my thoughts.
I turned to find Mr Whitmore already on his feet. He clapped slowly, the sound echoing with weight and finality.
His sharp gaze was fixed on me. It was approving.
"You breathed life into her. Yun Na. I've never seen anything quite like that," he said as he stepped forward. "You didn't just act. You lived it!"
My lips curled again, but this time, the smile touched something deeper inside me. It wasn't just appreciation. It was pride.
"Thank you so much, Mr Whitmore," I say with a a slight bow of my head. "I didn't expect it to come out this… raw."
"Oh, it was more than raw," he chuckled, eyes crinkling. "It was real and honest. And that—" he turned to gesture at the other judges, who were still stunned into silence, "—thaybis what we've all been starving for."
I tilt my head slightly. "So… does this mean I got the role?"
A twinkle danced in his eyes. "If you'll accept the contract, the role is yours. Yun Na belongs to you now."
My heart skipped, but I straightened my back and met his gaze squarely. Even though I hadn't come here for auditioning, this was my chance.
Heaven was smiling at me.
"I'll accept," I say carefully, "but I'd like to know… how much does it pay?"
Mr Whitmore raises an amused brow. "A blunt kind of female, someone who knows her worth. I like it."
"No," I say, holding his eyes. "A girl who owes a debt. One I intend to pay back."
He goes quiet and studies me for a beat, then nodded slowly. "Fair enough."
He pulled out a folder paper from his pocket and tapped the screen of his tablet. "The initial offer for the female lead is three three million dollars, not including the bonuses.
However, with your performance… I'm inclined to raise it. Let's say five million. Plus a three-month accommodations package, stylists, wardrobe support, and a personal assistant. Well, that's if you want it."
Five… My chest squeezes.
Five million?
I couldn't stop the small gasp that left my lips. My head flew to my chest without thinking.
That was more than enough. More than I ever thought I'd have in this lifetime. Not that it was anything in my past life.
I had come here to sign an agreement and here I am, landing a role. Very soon, I'll pay William.
"I'll take it," I breathed. "I'll take it. Thank you."
He reached out his hand, and I raised mine to meet his, out palms brushing as they prepared to lock.
But then a deep voice cut through the air like a hard steel.
"Hold up."
I froze mid-shake. Mr. Whitemore turned slowly, the same confusion that bloomed in my chest spreading across his face.
"Mr William?" Mr Whitmore blinks in disbelief. "You're still here?"
William stood to his feat, the chairs scraping against the floor as he pushed them back before stepping forward.
His expression is unreadable but his presence is a cold, commanding dominance that is unmistakable. Like a storm gathering.
"I also have terms," he said calmly.
The entire room stilled. Mr Whitmore blinked again, almost forgetting to breathe.
"I'm sorry… terms?" He repeats, confused.
William ignored his confusion. "As CEO of Star Entertainment, I reserve the right to oversee the casting terms of any contract formed under this company."
"But…but you've never once attended an audition," Mr Whitmore said, his voice laced with disbelief. "You never interfered with my decisions."
"There's a first time for everything now, isn't it?" His voice drops in a mixture of arrogance and nerve racking nonchalance.
"Are you going to agree…or not?" He finally spoke again.
Mr Whitmore was caught in a tangled position. He knew that a snap of his fingers can stop the production, even more so, have it cancelled.
So he nodded, swallowing for the uptenth time.
"Good." William begins. "She signs the contract…only if…"
Silence crashed over the room.
What?!
My frown deepened. I could feel my breath snag in my throat. What was he even saying?!
"And," he continued, unfazed by the tension, "she's not allowed to…