Fragments of You (1)

A brief recess after a grueling round of filming.

"Phew..."

Sion, emerging from a state of deep emotional immersion, took a deep breath and sat down in his chair. He couldn't help but chuckle dryly as he recalled the scene he had just shot with Elena.

I feel like I've poked a sleeping lion.

Since their date, Elena Asimov had undeniably changed. Her performance as Noah in the scene they just shot possessed a level of detail that had never been there ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before. It was a fact recognized by every member of the crew.

Sion had matched her energy, catching and returning the emotions she threw at him, and the crew had erupted into applause when the cameras stopped rolling. The script itself was structured to accommodate such a flow, so the intensity didn't feel out of place.

Throughout the shoot, Elena had drifted between portraying an idealized, pure woman, but when the exact moment demanded it, she laid bare Noah's complex facets without reservation, letting her emotions explode. It was precisely what Sion had aimed for when he suggested the date.

Elena's acting now carried the sensibility of a "real woman," something she had lacked until now. Breaking free from the mold of an idealized, innocent girl, she revealed a deeply human side—one that could feel jealousy and desire. Would it be strange to feel a sense of profound satisfaction at having contributed to this transformation?

In my past life, Elena did say she wished she had experienced more, and sooner.

As he rested, turning these thoughts over in his mind, Elena approached him.

"Don't you need to touch up your makeup?"

"Unlike a certain someone, I don't do a lot of screaming, so I'm fine."

"...You surprised me."

"By what?"

When Sion asked, Elena smiled softly and folded her hands over her chest. The gesture tugged at his heartstrings in a strange way, but Sion did his best to keep his face completely neutral. After a moment of introspection, she spoke.

"I never imagined I had these kinds of emotions inside me. The feeling of desperately, passionately craving someone... it was so fresh. Wanting to possess Elliot because I love him, yet hating him so much at the same time... it was strange."

"Are you talking about me?"

He asked to tease her lightly, but Elena turned to look at him and nodded without hesitation.

"Yes."

"..."

"Yesterday, at the very end... I didn't want to go home."

"Give me a break. I have no desire to get dragged off by the Russian mafia and freeze to death in a meat locker."

"Are you saying that because you think my family has those kinds of connections? That's a complete misconception."

"The rumors about your mother are no joke. And with the articles about yesterday already out, she's probably itching to grind me into dust. I did kidnap her precious only daughter in the dead of night, took her on a wild date, and brought her back late. You saw the news this morning, right?"

"...S-somewhat."

Elena's face flushed crimson, and she quickly covered her cheeks with both hands.

"W-what should I do? I left the house early this morning specifically to avoid her, but she's going to be absolutely furious when I see her later."

"Even that is part of the complexity of love. Just like in Romeo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Juliet."

Sion chuckled softly, quietly studying Elena's face, which wore an expression he had never seen before. The icy demeanor that had once seemed like eternal snow had thawed slightly, and the emotions revealed beneath the surface felt incredibly fresh.

It wasn't even like this when she was flustered or when she got angry at my teasing.

True to her reputation as a "genius," Elena was channeling all of this stimulation into her creative energy. And now, the clever little serpent inside her was trying to get the upper hand on Sion.

"...Will you run away with me to somewhere fun again?"

"What?"

"If we go that far, it'll be more than just an acting lesson, right?"

She smiled subtly, as if she had figured everything out. Yet, despite ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her confident words, there was a faint tremor in her voice. If Sion told her to run away with him right now, she looked ready to follow him in a heartbeat. Perhaps calling it an "acting lesson" was merely a defense mechanism to convince herself that her feelings during the date weren't entirely real. Sensing this, Sion chuckled and replied.

"Hmm. If we're talking about somewhere fun, my house is the perfect spot today."

"...Pervert."

Smiling softly as if she had expected nothing less, she stood up and walked away. A crew member hesitantly gathered the courage to approach her, likely offering praise for her performance today. After a brief moment of awkwardness, Elena's eyes widened and she burst into a bright, genuine smile. Watching her, Sion felt a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing that what he had done was right. A wave of relief washed over him as everything finally clicked into place.

Not bad.

Even so, Sion had absolutely no intention of letting Elena outshine him in acting.

I'll prove that I'm not just a pretty face anymore.

The break was over. As he slowly stood up and walked back to the center of the set, his face shone with fierce determination.

During his past life, while living in self-imposed isolation after his face was ruined, the emotion Sion had felt most acutely while watching endless movies was loneliness. Even though he watched them to hurt himself, he had never stopped yearning for that world. He regretted his past lack of professionalism and repented for how poorly he had treated the staff, his co-stars, his colleagues, and his fans. Through that, he had realized something: filmmaking was not something that could be done with a pretty face alone. It was a process where various experts gathered, offered their respective insights, and assembled them onto the screen—just like the performance an actor delivers by weaving countless elements together.

Having realized this, and desperately wanting to return to that reality, Sion had endured all the shame and misery of his ruined face to keep knocking on the industry's doors. And even after his regression, that resolve naturally carried over.

Not just for myself, but for the film that embraces my acting.

Hollywood was a jungle. Actors, constantly dissected by the media, were exposed to immense psychological pressure. Furthermore, in this era before the widespread adoption of the internet, correcting a false rumor took an enormous amount of time and effort. In the meantime, actors suffered immense stress, often turning to cheap pleasures to cope. Young actors around Sion's age were particularly vulnerable. Of course, Sion was no saint, and he had no intention of trying to save everyone. But within his power, he wanted to work toward making better films. Ultimately, that was also the best path for himself.

As a result of Sion's timely intervention and stimulation, Elena displayed a completely different caliber of acting throughout the shoot. This allowed Sion to let go of his reservations and pour his absolute best into his own performance.

"Nooooo!"

Noah screamed hysterically. Her crystal-clear vocalization made everyone on set flinch. A flashback scene. The couple's home. The indoor studio set. The fragmented pieces of information—the script, the setting, the set design—were fused into a cohesive whole by the two actors. The camera captured it. The lights illuminated the space. The microphone recorded the sound.

"Fuck...!!" Elliot roared, unable to contain his rage.

"What, what?! What are you going to do?! Hit me! Why not? Go ahead! Hit me!"

"I'm not hitting you! I'm not going to hit you! Fuck, you're always like this! You start this crazy shit and then tell me to hit you?! Do you think if I hit you, all the bullshit you've put me through just disappears?!"

"Fuck you, Elliot! You're such a little bitch!"

They cursed at each other as if they wanted to kill one another, only to weep and cling to each other in the very next beat.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Don't leave me, Elliot..."

"Babe. People who love each other don't say they're sorry."

Holding each other close, they stared silently into each other's eyes before Elliot lifted Noah and carried her toward the bedroom. In the finished film, these two scenes would flow seamlessly. But this was a real-life set.

"Cut!"

Amidst the director's shouts, instructions, crew members, and heavy camera equipment, these two young actors were navigating extreme emotional swings, leaping between heaven and hell multiple times a day. Their performance was so intense that it left the watching crew in absolute awe.

They're both in their late teens, right?

Are they seriously delivering this level of acting?

You're telling me they aren't even twenty yet?

Seriously, Sion Lee acts like a guy who's been married three times.

Elena is fantastic too. Especially that performance where she can't control her emotions—it's a masterpiece.

As the atmosphere on set remained electric, the supporting actors and extras were also struck with awe by the sheer presence and dominance of Sion and Elena. But out of everyone, the one most astonished was undoubtedly Elena Asimov, who had to face the protagonist of this set head-on.

He really... has completely changed.

She had been observing Sion Lee for a long time, even during the period when she despised him most. The reason was simple: as an actress, observation was more important to her than anything else. Thus, she occasionally attempted to observe and internalize beings she couldn't understand, and Sion had been the prime subject of that study.

Elena had always thought of Sion Lee as a hollow person. She believed he engaged in destructive behavior because he couldn't handle his own emptiness. When she learned about his mother's passing, she felt a pang of sympathy, but because he kept committing acts that no professional should ever do, she had truly detested him as a fellow actor.

Yet, that very man had suddenly transformed. He had gone to Chicago to star in an indie film for practically no pay, and his evolved acting had left her utterly bewildered.

And then he went and chartered a private jet for the crew on this film...

Since Elena didn't know that Sion had earned over two million dollars from his previous film, Swing in Chicago, she couldn't help but feel a subconscious sense of awe regarding the "private jet charter incident." With that minor (?) misunderstanding piled on top of Sion's seasoned acting, which she could feel firsthand on set, a certain emotion began to bloom in Elena's heart. It was something she couldn't quite define—hot like playing with fire, yet impossible to look away from. Whenever she tried to suppress it as a professional and casually approached him to chat, Sion would respond with a nonchalant face and his signature gentle tone.

"What are you staring at? I know I'm handsome."

"...I didn't come here to look at you."

Replying coyly, Elena let out a huff and sat down hesitantly beside him. She tried to calm her racing breath as she thought.

It's strange. I used to be so talkative around him...

At some point, the words had stopped coming easily. She kept worrying about whether her makeup was perfect or if her hair was messy. Watching Elena fussing around beside him, pretending to read her script while adjusting her hair, Sion let out a soft sigh and spoke.

"Get me a Coke."

"W-what? Get it yourself!"

"Oh, is the great actress too grand for that?"

"I-I am not!"

Elena brought him the soda in a huff, only to realize she had been tricked again when she saw Sion snickering.

"We're not done filming yet, so relax and have some Coke."

Sion popped the can open with a crisp pssh and handed it to her.

"Y-you said you wanted it..."

Despite her grumbling, Elena took a long, deep gulp of the soda—something she rarely drank before.

As the filming of Fragments of You continued, it surprisingly stopped generating much media buzz after a certain point. There were occasional paparazzi photos of Sion and Elena standing together, published by a few tabloids, but it never escalated beyond that. It was almost as if someone had threatened them.

And Sion, for his part, found the current state of affairs perfectly ideal.

We're making a movie, not trying to farm outrage.

Keeping the public just curious enough to keep the film on their radar was more than enough. The fans would grow anxious, but that would only make them anticipate the movie even more eagerly.

Seeing Sion lead such a wholesome (?) lifestyle—commuting only between the set and his house, and spending his days off gardening—Jack Nicholson called him up.

"Not at all. Now that I'm getting older, everything's just a hassle."

Letting out a hearty laugh, Jack Nicholson gruffly conveyed his approval, essentially telling him he was doing a damn good job. Through that brief phone call, Sion realized that Fragments of You was progressing smoothly.

There are still a few question marks, but I don't think I need to worry too much about them on my end anymore.

In Hollywood, "politics" was a natural part of the filmmaking process. When massive capital gathered, countless industry figures tried to exert whatever influence they could over the production. However, they all shared a common goal: they wanted the film to be successful and profitable. Only then would the pie grow larger, naturally increasing the value of their own share.

Yet, Fragments of You felt slightly different.

Even from what I've heard secondhand, the power struggles surrounding this project are incredibly bizarre.

In particular, some individuals seemed to actively wish for this multi-million dollar film to fail.

I might have gotten myself tangled up in something troublesome.

Originally, he had signed onto this film to build his network and elevate his standing by aligning with a titan like Jack Nicholson rather than getting tied down by a major studio. However, as the situation shifted, Sion began to sense that things might become far more complicated than he had anticipated.

Brushing those thoughts aside, the final day of shooting arrived. Considering the emotional arc of the two actors, today's shoot had been intentionally scheduled to capture the film's final scene.

"Alright. Let's stay focused until the very end and do a great job."

Throughout the shoot, Director Kate McCushey had been on the receiving end of Sion's casual inquiries, like "Are things going okay lately?" or "Is anyone giving you a hard time during editing?" By now, she had come to respect him deeply. She wasn't the only one. His maturity, consideration, and acting prowess—none of which belonged to a typical teenage boy—had earned him the profound gratitude and admiration of the entire crew.

The indoor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠studio. The same green screen set where they had shot their very first scene.

"Are you in character? It's our last love scene, El."

Wrapping his arm around Elena's waist, Sion offered a lighthearted joke to ease the tension. In response, Elena took a deep breath and stared straight into his eyes.

"I am."

"...?"

Sion tilted his head, wondering if she was already fully immersed in her emotions. Regardless, he quickly brought up his own feelings, and with the sharp clack of the slate, the final take began.

Elliot and Noah stood at the precipice of their final moment. The world constructed of memories was collapsing, and Noah was beginning to fragment.

"Noah! Noah...!"

The same name, but a different entity. This was not the idealized Noah Elliot had painted in his grief and loneliness, but the flawed, volatile, and sometimes selfish illusion—the one who had dragged him through emotional tempests of heaven and hell.

"No! I can't let you go like this...!"

"Elliot."

Even as she experienced the terrifying sensation of fading away, Noah smiled gently.

"Don't worry. I'll always be inside you. Make sure to eat well. Don't put off the laundry just because you're lazy. Exercise regularly. Go to the hospital right away if you're sick. Live happily as the version of you that I helped shape. Live the rest of the life that I couldn't finish."

"N-Noah! No! I can't let you leave like this...!"

At that exact moment, something happened that made everyone on set doubt their own eyes.

According to the script, Noah was supposed to place a finger over Elliot's lips to silence him, whispering, "Be happy."

But instead, Noah suddenly pressed her lips against Elliot's.

While everyone stood frozen in shock, unsure if this was part of the performance or a real-life slip, Kate, deeply immersed in the scene, frantically gestured to the cinematographer to keep rolling. With absolute focus and her signature aesthetic eye, she poured all her energy into capturing the two beautiful actors in the most breathtaking way possible.

Under the director's calm guidance, the two actors maintained their professionalism, continuing their performance even as their raw, surging emotions threatened to boil over.

And with that, the final shoot of Fragments of You came to a close.

"..."

Sion stared blankly at Elena, who had quickly turned her face away from him.

...She got me.

No matter what kind of shady politics were happening behind the scenes of this production... this movie was going to be an absolute masterpiece.