The air in the Lumina conference room was thick with tension and anticipation. Portfolios, mood boards, and tablets lay scattered across the polished glass table, evidence of weeks of preparation and panic. But at the center of it all, Min-kyung sat upright, no longer the playful, pouty woman who clung to Joon-ho in the clinic. Here, her back was straight, her expression sharp, and her voice carried the confidence of a woman who had bent New York, Paris, and London to her name.
"Alright," she began, her fingers gliding across the screen of her phone. "We can't waste time. For the female lead, I considered Han Se-ri. She has the body, the reputation, and her face fits the fresh theme I'm pushing."
Before she could finish, Yura cut her down with a cold flick of her hand. "No. Se-ri is poison. Too much of a princess. Attitude problems on every set, every campaign. Do you want photographers walking out mid-shoot?"
