The flashbulbs were blinding.
To the average person, a camera flash is a momentary flicker. To Choi Do-Yun, it was the steady, pulsing heartbeat of his life. Flash. Flash. Flash. Each one was a silent command: Smile. Look mysterious. Be perfect.
He stood on the red carpet of the Grand Seoul Film Awards, the crisp midnight-blue velvet of his tuxedo fitting his broad shoulders like armor. At thirty-two, Do-Yun was at the zenith of his career. He wasn't just an actor; he was "The Nation's Standard."
"Do-Yun-ssi! Over here!" "A smile for the global fans, please!"
He pivoted with practiced grace, his face settling into that signature "Distant Prince" expression. He looked like a man who had everything—a man who spent his nights sipping expensive wine on a penthouse balcony.
In reality, his feet were killing him, and all he could think about was the text message vibrating against his thigh. He had received it twenty minutes ago from his nineteen-year-old sister, Ha-Niel.
[Sister 🍎]: I don't care if you win 'Best Actor.' If you don't bring home the seasoned chicken from the shop near the venue, don't bother coming in. Geon is crying because he's hungry.
Geon is sixteen, Do-Yun thought, his eyes twinkling for the cameras while his mind calculated the quickest route to the chicken shop. He isn't crying because he's hungry. He's crying because he's a dramatic brat.
The world call him the "Diamond of the East." If you walk the streets of Seoul, you can't escape him. Choi Do-Yun. His face is on every luxury watch, every skincare bottle, and every giant screen in Myeongdong.
At thirty-two, he is the undisputed King of the Screen but they didn't know about the dusty basement where it all began.
Sixteen years ago, Fixstar Agency was a one-room office held together by CEO Park. Do-Yun had been her first trainee, intended for a band called SYNTHIA. But when rival agencies poached the other members, the dream of a group died.
Worse, Do-Yun's own father had vanished on the very day his brother Geon was born.
"I'm not leaving," a seventeen-year-old Do-Yun had told CEO Park. "If we can't sing, I'll act. Just give me a script."
His mother, CEO Park's biggest believer, had pushed him to follow his dream even when they were starving. She found her "peace" watching him act. When she passed away the night he won his first major trophy at twenty-two, Do-Yun stepped up. He became the "Founding Station" of Fixstar.
He took every role, every commercial, and every grueling project to fund the agency. He poured his own earnings back into the company to ensure CEO Park never fell into debt again, eventually helping her debut the new SYNTHIA.
Now, Fixstar is the biggest agency in the country. The boy band is a global phenomenon. And Do-Yun? He is a superstar across north-east asia with a growing cult following in the West.
CEO Park loves him like her own flesh and blood. She has a secret plan: a 5-year roadmap of massive global projects that will elevate Do-Yun to the level of a Hollywood legend—a name as immortal as Tom Cruise. To her, this is the ultimate gift for the son who saved her. But it requires his absolute focus. No scandals. No distractions.
But his siblings, Ha-Niel (19) and Geon (16), are done watching him live like a workhorse. They don't care about Hollywood; they care about the "Mother Void" in their home. They want him to find the love he sacrificed for them.
The 5-year war has begun.
On one side, the CEO's son, Park Min-Ho (19), is secretly guarding his mother's professional vision. On the other, the Choi siblings are launching "Project: New Mom."
Unbeknownst to everyone, it will take exactly five years for both paths to collide.
Do-Yun currently just worried about the seasoned chicken.
[STATUS: MISSION ACTIVE. 1,825 DAYS REMAINING.]