After Minjae's thoughtful answer, the room seemed to ease even more. The tension that some of the extras might have felt earlier about being in the same space as a lead actor completely dissolved.

They weren't just listening to industry veterans or a rising star anymore. Now, they were all exchanging ideas, reflecting on the character work, and learning together.

"See? That's exactly what we mean. It's not about making something look writerly. It's about understanding what it feels like to sit with your own thoughts. That's where the performance begins." Hyesun smiled and looked out at the group.

"That kind of pacing, that reflective energy. All of it matters. And the same goes for even the smallest roles. If your character is a junior editor who only nods in a scene, that nod still tells us everything we need to know. Are you tired, are you inspired, are you quietly judging the piece you're editing? That's the kind of detail we love."

After the Q&A, the writers encouraged a small group discussion activity. Everyone was told to break off into smaller circles of four or five to reflect on a short scene excerpt the studio had prepared in advance. It was a fictional moment from Winter's Ending involving a brainstorming session in the room.

Minjae found himself grouped with three extras, two of whom were young women in their early twenties, and one man who looked a few years older. All of them were polite and a bit shy at first, but eager to engage.

"This is a scene where the editor-in-chief pitches a theme and the team react," Minjae read aloud from the handout. "So, we're supposed to discuss how we'd perform this naturally."

The others nodded, flipping to their own copies.

"I think… I'd probably play my line with hesitation," one of the girls said. "Like, I'm agreeing to the idea, but I also have something better in mind. But my character is too new to speak up."

"That makes sense," Minjae replied. "You could show that with how you hold your pen, maybe scribbling something down and not saying it. It tells the audience there's more going on in your head."

The other two chimed in as well, bouncing thoughts off each other like how to show active listening, how to convey nervousness when speaking to a senior, how to stay moving in a scene even if the camera isn't directly on you.

As the conversations flowed, Choi and Hyesun walked between the groups, offering tips and affirmations. When they passed by Minjae's circle, they paused briefly to listen in to what they were talking about.

"Oh, this is a good group," Hyesun said brightly. "Everyone here sounds like they've already spent time together."

"I actually interned at a writing company before," the male actor in the group admitted sheepishly. "So this… kind of brought back memories."

"That's perfect then," Choi said. "Bring that into your acting. Don't overdo it. Just live in it."

After about twenty minutes of discussion, the groups were called back to the main floor, and a few were asked to share. Minjae's group wasn't chosen, but they listened attentively as others described their interpretations.

Some shared how they would handle awkward silences in a meeting room. Others talked about the body language of a confident junior writer versus a burned-out senior one. It was simple, grounded, but insightful.

The final portion of the seminar was more open-ended. Hyesun and Hyunwoo sat on stools in front of the group and invited anyone to ask lingering questions, not just about writing or acting, but about the industry, creativity, or even burnout.

"What do you do when you stop believing in your own story?" someone asked quietly. It was an extra seated in the back.

Hyesun leaned forward. "You pause. You let it hurt. And then… you ask yourself what made you start writing in the first place. Because somewhere in there, there's a reason worth holding onto."

It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't flowery. But it was real.

Minjae watched the people around him, especially the extras. Many of them had fewer lines than he did, less screen time, less recognition—but all of them were trying.

They were showing up, listening, learning, carrying their roles with pride. And in that moment, he felt something shift in him again. There was respect, gratitude, and a deep sense of being part of something collaborative.

He was happy that he was in this project.

By the time the seminar ended, almost everyone had softened into casual conversation. Bottled drinks were being passed around again. Some exchanged contact information. While others took pictures together.

A few shyly asked Minjae if he could take a photo with them. He agreed with no hesitation.

One girl, who had been sitting two rows behind him, thanked him before leaving.

"I'm playing the copy editor," she said. "I only have three scenes. But this really helped… and I just wanted to say you've been really kind today."

Minjae gave a small smile. "Three scenes are more than enough to make an impression. Make them yours."

As people slowly began to leave, Choi Hyunwoo and Jung Hyesun approached him one last time.

"Thanks for being here, Minjae-ssi," Hyesun said, offering him a polite nod. "You didn't have to say much, but when you did, you gave more than enough."

"I learned a lot," Minjae replied honestly. "I don't think I've ever thought about the role of 'writer' that deeply before."

"You'll carry it well," Choi added, clapping a hand gently on his shoulder. "Joon will be in good hands."

And with that, the seminar wrapped.

Minjae stepped out of the screening room a little lighter. He didn't know if it was the air, or the break from the usual high-pressure sets, or just the fact that he had been part of something quietly thoughtful for today.

The late afternoon sun was low in the sky by the time Minjae stepped out of the seminar building. The air was warm but breezy. Waiting at the side parking lot was Donghyun's car.

The moment Minjae spotted it, he gave a small wave and jogged over.

Donghyun rolled down the window and leaned slightly out, sunglasses still on.

"How was it?"

Minjae opened the door and slid into the passenger seat with a soft sigh, placing the seminar packet on his lap.

"It was… better than I expected," he said honestly, buckling his seatbelt. "It was really thoughtful. It wasn't one of those empty events where people talk to hear themselves speak. They actually knew what they were saying."

Donghyun turned the car out of the parking space

"That's rare. So, it's worth going?" Donghyun nodded with a small smirk

"Definitely."

Donghyun chuckled at the answer. After awhile, they fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. The traffic slowed them as they exited the studio lot.

"I met some of the extras too," Minjae added. "It was nice. I think it helped that I wasn't in full idol mode or anything. Everyone was relaxed."

"You've always been the same, whether in full makeup or in your pajamas. That's why people find you easy to be around." Donghyun glanced over.

"Or maybe I just look tired all the time."

"Also that."

They both laughed at it.

"What did they talk about?" Donghyun asked again after a while.

Minjae leaned back in the seat, his eyes half-open from the warmth of the sun coming through the window.

"Mostly about how to portray writers realistically. That being quiet is also acting. That you can be expressive even when you're doing nothing. It made me think of Joon again."

"Your character in Winter's Ending?"

"He spends most of his time observing. Reflecting. I realized I don't have to fill the silence all the time. I can also do some things." Minjae nodded.

"Sounds like a good reminder." Donghyun hummed at that.

The car eased onto the familiar streets near Minjae's apartment complex. The golden hour had settled fully now, casting long shadows across the buildings and tinting everything with a quiet calm.

"So your new character is really getting into you, huh?" Donghyun asked, his voice gentler this time.

"Yeah," Minjae said after a pause. "But in a good way."

They turned into the entrance of his apartment building's underground parking. The lights flickered on automatically, and Donghyun slowly pulled into his usual spot.

Minjae unbuckled his seatbelt but didn't get out right away.

"You okay?" Donghyun looked over at him.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just tired."

"Yeah. You've got that look again. You look like you're about to rethink your whole life."

Minjae laughed softly.

"No, just thinking about how weirdly full this week is. There's so much going on… but still, it was nice."

Donghyun nodded and smiled. "That's good. That means you're happy with what you're doing."

"Yes." Minjae rolled his eyes playfully, then grabbed his folder and opened the car door.

"Anyway, thanks for today, hyung," he said as he stepped out. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yup. Early call time, so sleep early if you can."

Minjae gave a lazy wave as he walked toward the elevator.

"Rest well, Minjae-yah," Donghyun called after him.

"I'll try," Minjae said with a half-smile, the door to the elevator closing softly behind him.