I Accidentally Became A Superstar - Chapter 189

Chapter 189: Zeno’s Haters
“Zeno,” Daeshim PD said as soon as he saw the young actor. The nearly senior-age PD appeared like he had aged ten years in the span of a month. Although he had plenty of projects before this, there was no doubt that this was, by far, his most stressful one.

For one, there were a lot of characters he needed to oversee, but most of all, the expectations for the adaptation were already through the roof, even with only the preview photos being released.

And as much as Zeno’s visuals couldn’t be declined, the original fans of the novel and manhwa were still unforgiving.

“I suggest you don’t scroll through social media these days, Zeno,” Daeshim said, patting his shoulder. “The world is a cruel place. Rest assured that we’re doing our best to show them we made the right decision.”

Zeno merely nodded. However, that was the least of his problems. He knew better than to be offended by a bunch of losers who were only brave behind the illusion of their screens.

What he needed to do was deflate the hate, so he wouldn’t experience the Pain Trial.

“Go to hair and makeup, then we’ll start right away,” Daeshim PD added. “Let’s finish this before midnight, shall we?”

“Yes, PD,” Zeno responded and sat on the makeup chair, where the artist did her thing.

In the meantime, he wanted to see the extent of the damage.

The moment he opened his Sigmoid account, he saw that his messages were exploding. As he clicked on them, it was apparent that most of them were stupid death threats.

– Die like the modern Hajin did.

Zeno clicked his tongue and quickly typed. “I already did. Because I am Hajin.”

He was just telling the truth! He didn’t say anything bad.

– You got the role? That means I can do it, too.

“Go ahead and do it. I am rooting for you,” Zeno responded next.

– Stay away from Oska Baek.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

– You have ruined my favorite novel. This is the one that saved me when I was at my lowest point in life. When my parents divorced. When my girlfriend left me. When my dog was eaten by a coyote. You ruined it.”

“… sorry.”

“What an eventful life,” he muttered and clicked on another message. However, this time, it seemed to be quite positive.

– Hi, Zeno Han! I am not a fan, but I have seen your work on YouWatch. It was great, and your acting skills stood out. This novel means a lot to me, and I didn’t expect a newbie actor to get the role of my favorite character of all time, Hajin. I have very high expectations. I think you suit his looks very well, but not a lot of us know if you can pull off such a character. Fighting!

“Thanks. Look forward to it,” he typed and sent it to the person.

A small smile appeared on Zeno’s lips. It seemed humans were pretty sweet, after all.

– Choke on your own balls.

Zeno smirked. Maybe not.

“Please give me a demonstration,” he quickly replied before his makeup artist spoke.

“You’re done.”

Zeno lifted his head to look at his reflection.

“I didn’t put on much makeup because Daeshim PD said you need to look a bit lifeless.”

Zeno bowed his head. “This is just right. Thanks,” he muttered before getting up and heading to the first set—which was an average-looking apartment.

Currently, they were in a building with plenty of settings. All of the scenes were going to be recorded here.

Chachi handed Daeshim PD a cup of coffee with six shots of espresso before pursing her lips. “You seem very tired, sir. Do you want to rest for a bit?”

Daeshim shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “There’s no need. I believe this wouldn’t be too tough.”

Chachi frowned, so Daeshi elaborated.

Just then, Zeno entered the room, bowing at the crew respectfully.

“Because that guy is not going to give us a hard time,” he added.

“Alright, Zeno. It’s all you for this day.”

“Let’s start right away!”

They didn’t waste any more time, heading straight to the montage of modern Hajin’s mundane life.

The hum of the AC. The muted thud of a ball against the floor. A half-finished bowl of cereal on the table, a spoon sticking out like an afterthought. Hajin’s fingers moved across the keyboard of his laptop. The room was dim, and natural light filtered through gauzy curtains.

Then, for a fleeting second, a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. It didn’t stay. It left like everything else.

Next, in the office…

He sat in front of a computer screen, tapping a pen rhythmically against his desk. Around him, his colleagues bustled—filing reports, phones ringing, printers humming.

In this scene, Zeno didn’t blink. He typed, scrolled, and checked his watch. His eyes looked through the screen, not at it.

No one needed to say anything. The camera caught it all.

He was going off of autopilot, and Zeno emanated it perfectly.

“Scene five, take one—action.”

The crew moved quickly. They were now on a sidewalk in front of the building.

Hajin walked through the crowd, his coat flaring slightly with each step. The city buzzed around him—horns, chatter, flashing signs. He acted like anyone else. He adjusted his collar and looked both ways before crossing the street.

But his eyes weren’t here. They were somewhere behind the glass of his skull, watching. The rush of life pulled him along like a current, and he didn’t fight it.

“Cut! Perfect. Moving on.”

Chairs scraped across the concrete as the crew packed up for the final scene.

Everyone was quieter now, steps a little slower. The boom operator yawned behind his mask. An assistant director rubbed her temples while checking the call sheet. All of them were tired since they came from the secluded village.

Zeno hadn’t complained once. He hadn’t even asked for a break or missed a cue.

On the rooftop.

The wind pushed against his jacket as he stepped closer to the concrete barrier. The skyline shimmered in the dark, and stars fainted behind the glow of the city.

Zeno stood still, the way only someone used to stillness could.

The camera rolled.

He tilted his head back slowly, just a few degrees, his eyes to the sky.

There was no line to deliver. Just breathe in, breathe out. An echo of a man watching the world move without him. Not lonely—just… separate.

“Cut,” came the soft voice behind the monitor.

Daeshim PD exhaled through his nose and looked at his watch.

“See?” he said, glancing over at Chachi. “That’s an average of two takes per scene. It’s only 9 PM, but we’re on the last scene.”

Chachi nodded slowly, still staring at the monitor. Zeno didn’t blink as the wind played with the strands of his hair. The rooftop lights bathed his profile in a pale glow. He looked unreal.

Down by the cameras, one of the lighting crew wiped sweat from his brow.

“This guy’s a dream,” someone whispered. “He doesn’t waste anyone’s time.”