I Accidentally Became A Superstar

Chapter 363: The Villa

Backstage, behind a curtain of rolling hedges and portable LED screens, Gene PD adjusted his cap and glanced at the ticking countdown on the production monitor.

“They’re here,” someone said through a headset.

Gene’s lips curved up. “Finally.”

Beside him, Bacon PD didn’t smile—but his shoulders eased as he looked past the equipment truck toward the expansive villa just beyond the ridge.

The house was magnificent, sprawling across the landscape. Gleaming windows. Sun-drenched patios. Decks that stretched toward the sea. But not too close to the water. Gene had made sure to take care of that detail. The waves were loud, and he didn’t want them messing with the audio.

The villa was magnificent, and it was built solely for this.

Bacon PD let out a low hum of approval. “Expensive taste.”

Gene clapped his back. “What’s the point of dreams if you don’t go big?”

The crew was scrambling around them.

Behind them, a small team from the network had set up for an interview.

“We’re rolling in five,” she said. “Please answer freely. This is just for the beginning of the production.”

“Of course,” Gene said, brushing off his vintage bomber jacket. “Nothing but the truth.”

They were seated on minimalist wooden chairs under the slanted shadow of a palm tree.

First question: How did the two of you decide to create this project?

Gene didn’t hesitate. “I was a movie director once,” he began with a small smile. “Years ago. Back when I still believed that talent would take you far.”

He paused, narrowing his eyes.

“I poured everything into my first film. The script was sharp. The cinematography was art. The actors were… well, they weren’t famous. But they were brilliant. I handpicked every detail myself.”

He glanced at Bacon PD, then back at the camera.

“And it flopped.”

Gene and Bacon chuckled at the same time.

“No one watched it. Because that’s how it works now, doesn’t it? You don’t go to the theater to watch good acting. You go because your favorite idol is in it. People will suffer through an emotionally bankrupt performance as long as the lead looks good crying in 4K.”

He leaned back, more amused than bitter.

“I realized then that the past cinema was dying. A lot of people stopped caring about talent. It was all about aesthetics.”

“And ego,” Bacon PD added calmly, arms crossed.

Gene grinned. “Exactly. Ego. Fame. Algorithms. I honestly succumbed to it. Just look at the variety shows I’ve produced.”

Again, they both chuckled, their laughs sounding like expensive checks.

“I know that times have changed. It’s unnecessary to even ponder why everything had changed. It’s just like that. Time will always change something. Always.”

“So,” he said simply,” we decided to provide a good balance.

“With this shoot, we’re not just choosing the popular. We’re not just casting faces that rack up followers. We’re looking for something different,” Bacon chimed.

Gene nodded beside him.

“We want to see what happens when talent is all that matters. Of course, we cannot forget about the sellability of it all. We’re still going to include that.”

The producer whispered, “Cut.”

Gene stood, stretched, and grinned again.

“Let them enter now.”

***

It looked like a theater at most—except there were no seats or an audience. It was just smooth wooden floors, blank walls, and a faint scent of varnish in the air. The lighting was warm, but not overly so.

A single door opened.

Ian Seo stepped in, his blindfold removed by a silent crew member behind him.

He blinked at the space around him.

“Huh,” he muttered, spinning in a slow circle. “This is kinda cool.”.

Ian stuffed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head up. No ceiling lights—everything seemed diffused and natural, even though the windows were sealed. A set? A stage? A live shoot?

He had no clue what kind of production this was.

But honestly? That was the fun of it.

Besides, when Gene PD and Bacon PD called, you didn’t ask questions. You just said yes.

The door creaked behind him.

Ian straightened, his spine snapping into polite posture. A grin

tugged at his lips. Maybe… Zeno?

Please be Zeno.

Zeno. Zeno. His dearest friend Zeno.

But it wasn’t.

The man who entered had tousled hair and a nervous smile, blinking rapidly as the blindfold was taken off. He was about Ian’s height, maybe a bit taller, and wore a clean-cut jacket.

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh my—” He took a breath. “Ian Seo.”

Ian gave a slight bow, amused. “And you are?”

“Hero Chang,” the man said, beaming. “I’m honored to be in your presence, sir.”

Ian offered a hand and shook it firmly. “You don’t have to call me as such,” he chuckled.

“Anyway, you got any idea what role you’re gonna play?”

Hero laughed, a little awkwardly. “Oh, I also don’t know. I thought I’d be briefed, but they just tossed me into a car and then blindfolded me.”

Ian chuckled. “It seems like we’re all flying blind.”

The door opened again.

A pair of heels clicked across the floor.

Risa entered—elegant as ever, with her dark hair tied back and her blazer cinched perfectly at the waist. Her blindfold came off, and she took a sharp breath, taking in the strange room and the two men already waiting.

Hero’s gasp was instant.

“Oh my,” he whispered again, louder this time. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you all. When they said it was a big-scale production, I didn’t think they meant this big.”

He turned toward Risa, rambling with genuine awe. “You—I mean, I’ve watched Midnight Strings three times. And that scene in Rainlight? Absolute chills. And Ian, I mean, Mr. Seo—your performance in Parallel Signal literally made me cry in front of my parents.”

Risa smiled. “You must love film.”

Hero scratched the back of his neck, bashful. “Yes. I do. I only wanted to start acting because of all the amazing talents around. You guys made it look so… I don’t know, alive.”

Ian gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You’re doing fine so far,” he said, despite not having a clue how Hero’s acting skills were.

The door opened again.

All three of them turned.

The figure that entered didn’t need a name. Risa’s smile widened, and Hero let out a yelp, clutching his chest.

“Misha?” Hero squeaked, his knees buckling slightly.