sleepless cinderella ☆ x.dj | ✔

08

Some time had passed before the actors began showing up and the sun started setting. The two of you were at the end of your questions, and you picked up on the fact that Dejun had gradually become less and less focused on answering them over the past thirty minutes. He seemed agitated about something, eyes constantly scanning the entrance and faces surrounding the set, brow furrowing deeply, and mouth etched into a small frown.

"What's wrong, Dejun?" You asked bluntly, not needing to dance around the subject.

"Sicheng is late," he informed you as he checked his phone for the tenth time in the past two minutes.

"How late?"

"Four minutes."

"That's not too bad, right?"

"This is the fourth time he's done it during this production."

"Oh."

Knowing that you couldn't add anything worthwhile to the situation, you decided to keep your mouth shut, looking for Sicheng as well.

A sleek black car pulled up much closer to the set than Yangyang had dared, and the back door was thrown open. None other than Dong Sicheng stepped out, eyes focused rather unenthusiastically on his phone screen.

Wherever he was supposed to go, he wouldn't be able to, as Dejun barked out, "Dong Sicheng! I need to speak with you for a moment."

Xukun and Yuqi, two other actors who had started towards the newcomer exchanged looks of 'yikes' before abruptly pivoting on their heel away from the whole spectacle that was about to go down. You expected Dejun to take the conversation on the outskirts away from the rest of the crew, or at least ask you to leave.

Instead, right as you stood to dismiss yourself from the vicinity, the director grabbed your hand with his, eyes never leaving Sicheng's approaching figure as he pleaded quietly to you, "Stay, please."

"Why?"

"So I don't punch him."

"Oh."

Yet again, a stunned and useless reply.

Sicheng narrowed his eyes at you as he came to a stop in front of the standing Dejun and you, seated in your chair beside the director's chair. You averted your eyes from him, and he apparently decided not to address your presence, judging by the fact that he went right into it.

"Yes, Director Xiaojun?" There was a mocking obedience in his voice, which irked you, who it wasn't even aimed at.

"You're late. Again."

"It was five minutes."

"It's not about being late, Sicheng!" Dejun snapped. His chest heaved with a couple deep breaths as he was obviously trying to keep his composure at the obstinate actor.

There was a beat of silence, and you snuck a glance at Sicheng's face. It was unimpressed, a clear challenge to Dejun, a snarky invitation to continue the argument.

And he did.

"This is about the blatant disrespect you have for me, your costars, and the crew who all have busted their asses for this production."

"If I'm so disrespectful, why don't you just fire me, then?"

"If your daddy didn't own my ass, I would've kicked yours off my set Day One!"

At the mention of his father, Sicheng's hands balled into fists, a vein becoming prominent across his forehead. It was now that you decided to interject, standing between them, facing Sicheng with Dejun almost protectively behind you.

"You two should take a breather," you suggested quietly, looking to him with begging eyes.

As Sicheng took a step back, he spat out, "Thanks, Xiaojun."

"For what?" He shot back over your shoulder.

"Now I know that this was just a pity role."

Xukun and Yuqi had hesitantly been inching their way towards the three of you and decided now to usher their co-star away. You waited until he had been sat down in a chair by the makeup table to turn back to your friend behind you.

Taking a moment to organize your own thoughts, you simply requested, "Explain."

And he did.

"Back in school—boarding school—I used to make these stupid little short films, with my friends as the characters. Sicheng's dad at the time was an executive producer, and somehow he saw some of the films. I guess he really liked them, because he landed me an assistant director job right after graduation. With it, I was able to pay my way through college. Now, Mr. Dong's actually owner of the studio, and is an executive producer on this film."

"Why would Sicheng be pissed about that?"

"I don't know. I just know that his dad has never hired him for a role or even asked him to read for one. Sicheng had to break into the business all on his own, which is part of why I have such respect for him: he wasn't handed his career from his producer dad like a lot of people assume."

"Have you told him that?"

Dejun was frowning again as he realized, "No, I haven't told him that. And his dad didn't even want Sicheng to read for the movie, but I insisted on it. Not because I pity him, but because he's a good actor that would be a valuable addition to the cast. It had nothing to do with Mr. Dong."

"And have you told him that?"

"No. But I really should, shouldn't I?"

"I'll go get him," you offered, patting his cheek with a subtle smile on your face.

Approaching Sicheng, Xukun, and Yuqi, you directed your question only to Sicheng, "Are you ready to talk?"

His response was to stand up, looking to you as if asking you to lead the way.

Walking back to Dejun with Sicheng in tow, you took your seat once again. Neither objected to you staying.

"Did you know that I only showed your films to my dad hoping that he'd see how well I acted?" Sicheng blurted out, a biting edge still in his tone.

Dejun's eyebrows shot up, "I didn't."

"That backfired on me, clearly."

Feeling the tension go up again, you looked at the director insistently.

He understood your cue, voice tight as he said, "This wasn't a pity role, Sicheng. I sought you out for this role specifically because I respect you as an actor and a person and felt that you'd be an irreplaceable part of the cast. Not because of your dad. And what I said earlier about how I would have kicked you off the set if it weren't for your dad was out of line, untrue, and I only said it because I knew it'd piss you off. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Sicheng admitted somewhat reluctantly after several seconds of uncomfortable silence. "I made the assumption that this was a pity role, and I've been holding a grudge against you because of how well my dad treated you in comparison to me, when it wasn't even your fault. And I acted accordingly: being disrespectful to you... my co-stars... and the crew. An ass. I was an ass for no good reason."

You had bated breath as Dejun stuck a hand out to Sicheng, watching intently as he accepted it, the two shaking hands politely. And you swore you could hear the entire crew let out a unanimous sigh of relief.