The drama *My Love from the Star* is set in the modern day, but the story of its two main characters begins hundreds of years ago in the Joseon era. This intriguing premise might sound a bit confusing at first glance.

    To bring a sense of authenticity to this storyline, the screenwriter, Seo Eun-mi, gave the male lead, **Park Do-jun**, a backstory involving eternal life. Meanwhile, the female lead, **Han Yoo-hwa**, has a tragic story—she died young in a past life and was reincarnated in the modern era.

    According to Seo Eun-mi''s script, both when Park Do-jun first met young Han Yoo-hwa in the Joseon era and later when he reunited with her reincarnated self, Han Yoo-hwa was still a young girl. This meant that they needed a child actor who could convincingly portray both the Joseon-era and modern-day Han Yoo-hwa.

    Director Hwang Min-soo knew this wouldn’t be an easy casting decision. Still, he was determined to find the perfect child actor who could transcend the time periods and embody the essence of Han Yoo-hwa.

    “Well, we’ll find someone eventually, won’t we? It’s not like there’s only one applicant.”

    “Hah... finding a needle in a haystack would be easier.”

    Determined to stay optimistic, Hwang Min-soo reviewed nearly a hundred applications with casting director Jeon Sang-hyuk. After sorting through many candidates, they invited a select few to the audition—those who had both the looks and the acting skills to potentially embody Han Yoo-hwa.

    At this point, the casting process was no different from any other drama. The young actors who had been shortlisted for the role were all incredibly talented.

    However, upon learning about the child actor auditions, the actress cast as the adult Han Yoo-hwa, **Yoo Sung-ah**, decided to attend as well.

    “Um, Ms. Sung-ah... are you going to keep those sunglasses on?”

    “Yes. Is there a problem?”

    “Well, it’s not exactly a problem, but...”

    Hwang Min-soo couldn’t help but feel uneasy as Yoo Sung-ah sat beside him, projecting a formidable presence that might easily intimidate the young actors. After all, Yoo Sung-ah was a top actress, a star in her own right.

    No matter how talented they were, the child actors would likely feel the need to lower themselves by a few levels—or perhaps even several—around her.

    And because of that, he worried even more that the young actors might feel too pressured to give their best performance.

    Yet, he couldn’t exactly send Yoo Sung-ah away. This audition was, after all, to find a young actress to play her childhood counterpart.

    Although Han Yoo-hwa and Yoo Sung-ah were not the same person from head to toe, they shared similar characteristics and values.

    “Director Hwang, no one knows you better than you know yourself.”

    ‘Well... that’s true.’

    Unable to find an excuse to ask her to leave, Hwang Min-soo began the audition.

    As expected, the young actors hesitated as soon as they opened the audition room door and laid eyes on Yoo Sung-ah.@@@@

    Even though she was wearing dark sunglasses, preventing any direct eye contact, her aura alone was enough to make the children nervous.

    “I’m sorry... Can I try that again?”

    “No need. Han Yoo-hwa isn’t as timid as you are.”

    The audition began, and Yoo Sung-ah showed no tolerance for even minor mistakes.

    Turning her head slowly toward him, she replied, her voice carrying a mix of faint delight and a hidden melancholy.

    **“These are flowers that will soon cease to be, my lord.”**

    At this point in the story, Han Yoo-hwa is set to marry the elderly Minister Kim in a political arrangement. Though she’s only just begun to discover the wide world around her, she faces the tragic fate of being confined to the narrow existence of a minister’s wife.

    **-Pressing softly.**

    **“These fragile flowers, which are trampled and destroyed so easily... Why did they even bother to bloom in the first place? I can’t comprehend it.”**

    She pressed down on a solitary flower, lamenting her gloomy circumstances. A bitter smile spread across her youthful face as she looked back up at Park Do-jun.

    **“You once told me, my lord, that memories remain because of the moments we experience. But all that’s left beneath my feet now... are crushed petals.”**

    The time she had spent with Park Do-jun had brought her joy, but his veiled hints of an impending farewell and her looming fate as the wife of an elderly man left her feeling that all her happiness had been in vain.

    **“What are memories? What are moments worth remembering? What... what are they?”**

    As her eyes reddened with restrained tears, she didn’t hesitate to show them to Park Do-jun. After all, she was still a young girl, not yet hardened by life’s adversities.

    Whether it was childish petulance or raw resentment, it was clear that she was vulnerable.

    Then, Park Do-jun’s gentle voice filled the silence.

    **“If marrying into a powerful family pains you so, come away with me down a different path. Though it may not be the most fitting path for your delicate shoes...”**

    It was a future Han Yoo-hwa had never even dreamed of. At the same time, the flowers she had trampled were magically revived by Park Do-jun’s mysterious power.

    **“Wouldn’t that be better than scattering regrets and sorrows along the path you’ve walked?”**

    Her tear-filled eyes began to waver, and Park Do-jun extended his hand toward her.

    **“I’ll show you, time and again, why foolish flowers continue to bloom.”**

    Slowly, Han Yoo-hwa’s small fingers intertwined with Park Do-jun’s, their hands meeting completely.

    “Cut! That was fantastic! We could use that scene as-is!”

    Director Hwang’s satisfied voice echoed through the audition hall, filling the space with a sense of accomplishment.