Mirror of Fate

Chapter 11 - Team Dynamics

Milo:

I stared at the script in front of me, the words blurring together as I tried to make sense of my character's lines. It had been days since I got the part, and I'd been practically living with the script ever since. My brain felt fried, and yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to know every single line by heart before the table read. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe it was just the pressure of wanting to prove myself, but I couldn't let it go.

The apartment was quiet, except for the occasional clatter of dishes in the kitchen. Dak-ho was making breakfast, something I'd barely been able to focus on since I got the script. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten much in the past couple of days. But the script... it was all-consuming.

"Milo," Dak-ho's voice broke through my concentration. "You gonna eat, man? You've been at that thing for days."

I blinked, finally tearing my eyes away from the page to look at him. He was leaning against the counter, a plate of food in his hand, watching me with a mix of concern and amusement.

"I'm fine," I muttered, though I wasn't entirely sure I believed it. "Just... trying to get this down before the table read."

Dak-ho shook his head, chuckling softly. "You know you don't need to know it by heart for a table read, right? It's just a first pass—you're allowed to stumble over the lines."

I knew he was right, but I couldn't help the pressure I felt. This was my chance, and I didn't want to blow it. "I know, but I want to be ready. I don't want to look like I don't know what I'm doing."

Kwan, who had been sitting quietly at the table, nodded in agreement with Dak-ho, but then added, "What exactly does your part entail?"

I glanced at him, grateful for the distraction. Kwan was always the calm one, the pretty face that kept the group grounded. "I don't know all the details yet," I admitted. "But I know I'll be on horseback a lot in the first episode. It's some kind of historical drama, so there's going to be a lot of action."

Dak-ho and Kwan exchanged a look, and I could tell they were thinking the same thing. Dak-ho raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Milo, have you ever ridden a horse before?"

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it, realizing that I actually hadn't. The closest I'd ever gotten was one of those kiddie rides at an amusement park when I was five. "Uh... not really," I admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

Kwan tilted his head, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Might be something you want to figure out before you start filming. They're probably going to expect you to at least know the basics."

I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. "Great. As if I didn't have enough to worry about."

Dak-ho laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. "Don't sweat it, man. They probably have training for stuff like that. You won't be the only one clueless about riding a horse."

I sighed, knowing he was probably right. I pushed the script aside and grabbed a plate, trying to push the nerves away for now. "Yeah, yeah. I'll eat."

Just as I was about to take my first bite, the door to our apartment burst open, and in came the rest of the crew—Yoo, Jae-sung, and Daiki, all from the apartment across the hall. It was like clockwork every morning; they'd come over to raid our kitchen because, according to them, Dak-ho was the only one who actually knew how to cook.

"Morning, everyone!" Yoo announced, his usual enthusiasm barely contained as he bounced into the room. Jae-sung trailed behind, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed—hair sticking up in all directions, and his clothes slightly askew. He grunted something that vaguely resembled a greeting as he slumped into a chair.