The noise from Minjae's late-night post didn't die down anytime soon. In fact, it seemed to fuel the anticipation from the viewers even more. Within hours, his single photo with his dark lighting, a teasing caption, had been picked up by entertainment accounts and fan pages across every platform.

And with that, the countdown to Episode 15 became even louder.

But while the world around him braced for drama and tears, Minjae's life behind the screen shifted back into becoming busy,

His schedule, which had just begun to lessen after the recent script reading, filled back up with meetings, calls, costume fittings, and updated shoot locations for Winter's Ending.

He was informed that there would be studio walkthroughs, filming rehearsals, and at least two back-to-back interviews lined up by the agency's PR team.

"Your Friday is already full," Donghyun said as he read off the calendar one afternoon in the car. "So don't commit to anything else. Unless it's sleep."

"Yes hyung," Minjae muttered, knowing full well he really wouldn't think of doing anything else since his work was already tiring enough.

Every day that week started early and ended late. Still, there was a quiet kind of joy that came with it. His work felt good. He was tired, yet it wasn't the kind of exhaustion that makes him want to quit.

Instead, he was tired, but he was happy and satisfied.

By Tuesday afternoon, Minjae was reviewing lines in a cafe when he got a message from the studio.

[Production Team - Winter's Ending:]

Hi Minjae-ssi. There's a seminar scheduled on Wednesday for all actors involved in the upcoming episodes, specifically for those portraying writers or working in the magazine scenes. It's not formal, but we'd love you to attend. Starts at 3PM. Details attached.

[Donghyun:] You're confirmed for the writer's seminar tomorrow. You'll be with a few cast members and extras. Shouldn't take more than two hours.

Minjae blinked at the text and leaned back in his chair.

A seminar? He thought that they will start next week?

Minjae took a deep sigh. He tapped on the link and scanned the attached details. It wasn't a traditional press or industry seminar, but it was more of an internal workshop designed to help the cast better understand the roles of the writer characters in the drama.

There would be two guest lecturer, plus a short Q&A session. After that, a few actors, including him, would join the discussion.

It was hosted by the studio's script development team.

"Why this early?" Minjae asked Donghyun over the phone later that night.

"They said your character in Winter's Ending will have scenes where he interacts with the in-world writers," Donghyun explained. "They want it to feel real. You don't need to do much. Just be there, listen, and maybe share how you approach your roles. You'll be sitting in with a few experienced actors and extras."

Minjae raised a brow. "Extras?"

"Yeah. Most of the seminar attendees will be background actors. They will be people playing editors, writers, assistants. They want them to have some background of how the job is playes."

Donghyun paused for a moment then added, "It's casual. You don't even need makeup. Just go comfortable."

So Minjae agreed to it.

Not like he had a choice, anyway.

It wasn't something he had expected midweek, but there was something intriguing about it.

So on Wednesday, after wrapping a quick schedule in the morning, Minjae changed into a relaxed outfit. He just wore a jeans, a button-down shirt layered under a knitted vest, and arrived at the seminar venue, which was one of the smaller screening rooms inside the studio.

When he stepped inside, there were already several actors seated in scattered rows, sipping on bottled drinks and flipping through the handouts on their laps.

Most of them looked surprised when they saw him enter.

"Is that…?"

"Oh, it's Minjae-ssi."

"Minjae will also join?"

"Woah! It's my first time seeing him."

"His current drama is really making a name."

"Yup. I was also starting to watch it."

Some smiled and others whispered at Minjae's arrival. They were clearly happy but a little nervous. Most of them were extras, just as Donghyun had said were young actors in their early twenties.

Minjae offered a soft nod to them all and quietly found a seat near the middle. He doesn't need attention. He was just there to learn like everyone else.

The seminar began a few minutes later with a short talk from one of the writers in the room.

The seminar had only just begun, but the moment the speakers introduced themselves, the air in the room shifted.

The first speaker was Jung Hyesun, a name Minjae instantly recognized.

She wasn't just a normal author—she was a bestselling author whose works had been adapted into several successful dramas over the past decade. Her latest novel, Maybe the Rain Was Enough, had not only sold over 500,000 copies, but had also aired on a major network the previous year as a 16-episode melodrama that topped charts throughout its run.

Beside her was Choi Hyunwoo, another novelist-turned-drama writer. He was known for his thoughtful essays and slice-of-life stories, especially one that had quietly gone viral after it was published online—a web drama titled Letters Left Unsent.

It had started small but gained a cult following due to its quiet pacing and emotional weight.

They didn't carry themselves like celebrity writers, though.

Both were dressed casually.

Hyesun was in a loose blouse and sneakers while Hyunwoo was in slacks and a worn hoodie. However, when they spoke, they were energetic, warm, and refreshingly honest.

"Let's start by erasing one myth," Hyesun began, leaning on the lectern with a mischievous smile. "Writers are not all tortured artists sipping wine and crying into their keyboards. Most of us are just stressed, hungry, and trying to meet deadlines while sitting in a chair with our backs breaking."

The room laughed, and Minjae found himself smiling as well.

They went over what it meant to portray a writer realistically on screen—how most of them don't look eccentric or dramatic, how much of their world was built on silence, deadlines, and quiet persistence.

There were a few chuckles around the room when the speaker joked about "dramas always showing writers with mugs and stress and nothing else."

But what followed was more serious. Notes on how to bring depth to even the smallest on-screen writer character. How to act with a pen in your hand. What kind of expressions someone would have when rewriting something for the tenth time. The subtle frustration. The hidden pride.

Minjae listened closely to it.

And if you're playing a writer character? Please don't look too dramatic when typing. We don't hammer our keyboards like action heroes. We mostly sit still… a lot. It's very boring." Choi Hyunwoo picked up the cue easily. "

Another round of laughter followed, this time less nervous, more open. The initial awkwardness had melted away from everyone.

Hyesun then clicked to the next slide, showing a picture of a handwritten manuscript with multiple red markings. "What we want," she continued, "is for you actors, even the ones with only two lines, to show that quiet intention. The way writers revise, second-guess, stare out the window, pick up a cup of coffee and forget to drink it… all of that is part of the experience."

Throughout the talk, they showed video clips from dramas they had worked on, pointing out subtle physical actions actors did to portray their writing. Scribbling, crumpling drafts, staring at empty pages. Everything carried meaning.

Minjae found it surprisingly fascinating. He had never played a writer before, but listening to the way they described their work, it didn't feel far from acting. The solitude. The repetition. The vulnerability.

After the presentation, the floor was opened for questions. A few brave extras raised their hands.

"What do writers think about scenes where their characters argue with editors?" one young actor asked.

"They're often very real." Hyunwoo grinned.

Hyesun also nodded.

"Yup. It's soo real. But remember—it's not about yelling. A writer being pushed back by an editor doesn't always explode. Sometimes, they just go quiet. That's harder to act, but more powerful."

The Q&A turned into more of a conversation than a panel. Soon, even the more reserved actors were joining in. One asked how to hold a pen properly if playing a novelist. Another asked if it was okay to improvise certain writing gestures in background scenes.

And the writers answered every question with patience and humor.

When Hyesun noticed Minjae quietly taking notes in his folder, she smiled and gestured toward him.

"Minjae-ssi," she said, "you've played a former idol, right? Now you're preparing to play a man finding himself again?"

"Yes," he replied, slightly caught off guard but unfazed.

"What part of that character do you think resonates most with the idea of being a writer?"

Minjae thought for a moment before answering.

"I think… it's the way they think. In the script that I read, Joon in Winter's Ending doesn't rush. He walks slower, he thinks slower. He's not trying to prove anything anymore. He's just… looking and analyzing things.

There was a small silence before Hyesun nodded in approval. "That's a good answer," she said.