The dinner continued with even more laughter and shared stories from the cast.

As the night deepened, people moved around from one table to another. No one stayed in their original seats for long. The director joined the makeup team for a drink. One of the writers sat on the floor beside the lighting crew, talking about their favorite scenes. Even Minjae found himself sitting with the assistant PDs at one point, laughing over behind-the-scenes memories.

Yura had taken out her phone and started snapping photos, going around the room like a reporter. She took a blurry selfie with Jihoon, then turned the camera toward Minjae.

"Oppa! Smile!"

Minjae, mid-bite with a dumpling in his chopsticks, gave a half-laugh. "You're going to regret taking that."

"I won't," she grinned, showing him the photo anyway. "You look like a tired dad."

"Perfect. That's the vibe."

Laughter followed.

Someone passed around a paper with doodles on it—funny sketches of their characters, complete with little quotes. "We're making a memory board," a junior stylist explained. "Write something before you leave later."

Minjae nodded and took the pen when it came his way.

He looked at the messy doodles and scribbled something in the corner:

"Thank you for giving Taeyung a voice. I'll miss him." — Minjae

By the time 8 PM neared, the tables were full, the plates were half-empty, and the noise still filled the restaurant.

But then, someone dimmed the lights.

A quiet voice announced, "Ten minutes until the final episode."

The noise softened almost instantly.

Someone turned up the volume on the screen that had been set up at the front of the restaurant. It was a large monitor connected to the live channel. The same one that thousands, maybe millions, were tuned into across the country.

Minjae found his way back to his seat near Yura, Jihoon already beside them.

No one told anyone to be quiet.

But everyone just naturally did.

As the broadcaster's logo appeared and the episode began, the noise faded. Even the clinking of glasses stopped.

All eyes turned to the screen.

The episode started right where they left off. It was Minjae standing in the dark, staring at the closed door of. The room felt heavy and the air wass quiet.

Minjae glanced around the room. Everyone was watching, their faces lit up by the glow of the screen.

Yura had her arms folded on the table, her chin resting on top. She was barely blinking as she stared on the screen.

Jihoon had one hand on his chest, as if preparing himself for whatever would come next.

Onscreen, the story moved forward. Painfully, slowly, but also beautifully.

Minjae performed onstage again. Yura wasn't there, not at first. There were long scenes of silence. Of time passing. Of him struggling to sing through the heartbreak.

But then, the moment came.

It wasn't big. There were no grand speeches. No dramatic music. But Yura appeared in the back of the auditorium, holding the old journal Minjae had once left behind.

And somehow, just like that, everything started to come back together.

In the restaurant, the sound of quiet sniffles echoed between scenes.

People held their breath. Some gripped each other's arms. Some wiped at their eyes, pretending it was just the soju.

And Minjae… he watched with a heavy heart, even though he already knew how it ended.

He watched his own face cry again.

"I kept waiting for the day you'd come back." Minjae watched his voice crack as he said those lines in the screen.

"I kept hoping you'd still be here." Yura beautifully an painfully smiled.

And then came the final scene.

A rooftop. A soft winter sun. Two people who had hurt, healed, and returned—not perfect, not fixed, but still choosing to be together.

Minjae and Yura stood side by side, looking out at the city.

The end of the episode was them together.

"Let's try again."

The credits rolled with a soft piano track. No big ending. Just a simple one.

And in the restaurant, no one moved.

It was only when the final frame faded to black that someone let out a long breath and said, "I'm going to cry again."

That broke the silence. There was applause—real, loud applause. Some people stood up to clap, some just clapped from their seats.

It wasn't a loud celebration.

But it was honest.

Minjae felt his throat tighten. Yura leaned into him slightly and said, "That was really the end."

He nodded. "Yeah."

They sat there for a moment, letting it sink in. Then someone from the crew called out—

"To The Star's Secret!"

Everyone raised their glasses again. Some with drinks, some with water, some just with both hands in the air.

"To the cast!"

"To the crew!"

"To the writer who destroyed us!"

"To Taeyung and Jiwoo!"

"To memories we won't forget!"

Minjae raised his own glass, his heart full.

"To all of us."

And they drank.

Not just to celebrate a drama.

But to say goodbye—to the characters, to the long days and nights, and to the little family they had built along the way.

It was the ending of a project.

But the beginning of something else.

Outside the warmth of the restaurant, the rest of the world was watching too.

The final episode of The Star's Secret had ended only minutes ago, but the internet was already in full celebration mode.

If Episode 15 was heartbreak, then Episode 16 was healing.

And fans everywhere felt it deeply.

Across social media, timelines flooded with tearful reactions, grateful messages, and memes that somehow managed to be both hilarious and emotional.

"WE SURVIVED!!! I'M CRYING BUT I'M ALIVE!!! 😭😭😭"

"THEY SAID 'LET'S TRY AGAIN' AND I MELTED. I'M A PUDDLE."

"I've never cried and smiled at the same time until tonight."

"Best. Ending. Ever."

"I feel like I just went through a breakup and then got proposed to."

"From pain to peace. From ruin to reunion. WE WON."

Some fans uploaded side-by-side screenshots from Episode 1 and Episode 16—the way Taeyung and Jiwoo once stood awkwardly apart, now leaning gently into one another on the rooftop.

Others posted photo edits layered with soft text:

"Even after the silence… I still choose you."

"Let's try again."

"Taeyung and Jiwoo: Not perfect, just real."

And then there were the celebratory memes:

[Image of someone holding tissues and grinning]

"Me at the end of Episode 16 knowing love still wins."

[Clip of someone dancing with tears streaming down]

"Me celebrating their reunion while still emotionally destroyed."

"THERAPY IS CANCELLED. THE WRITER FIXED EVERYTHING."

Global Studios' social pages lit up again. This time, the tone had shifted from sorrow to joy.

"Thank you for loving The Star's Secret until the very end," read a post from the official page. It was paired with a still from the final rooftop scene.

The comment section overflowed:

"THANK YOU FOR GIVING US CLOSURE 😭"

"I will remember this drama forever."

"Taeyung and Jiwoo's journey felt so real. I'll miss them so much."

"Everyone—cast, crew, writer—you did something magical."

Hashtags started trending again, but this time with a new flavor:

#StarsSecretFinale

#TaeyungAndJiwooForever

#WeSurvivedEp16

#ClosureAndHealing

#NamMinjaeDaesangWhen

#YuraUnnieQueenOfOurHearts

Minjae's account gained another flood of notifications. The comment section of his last post—which was still the photo of his desk and the caption "New story. New heart. Thank you for letting me grow."—was now filled with joyful cries:

"WE LOVED TAERYUNG SO MUCH 😭💔❤️"

"Your acting made me feel everything. Thank you."

"This role was something else. We'll be waiting for your next one, Minjae-ssi!"

"Goodbye Taeyung. Hello Joon."

Even fans from abroad joined in.

"Merci pour cette belle histoire."

"Gracias por hacernos sentir tanto."

"Kamsahamnida Minjae oppa! You made us cry and smile!"

And in the middle of it all, Jihoon couldn't resist one last post.

[Jihoon:] "If you think I'm done crying, think again."

[Minjae:] "But we got the ending."

[Jihoon:] "Exactly. I'm crying from relief now."

[Minjae:] "Let's try again?"

[Jihoon:] "😤 Never again. My heart can't take it."

Yura posted too—not a photo, but just a sentence.

"Some endings are soft. Thank you for walking with us. 🤍"

It trended within the hour.

Back in the restaurant, the cast and crew had started to wind down. Some people had their heads resting on folded arms. Others were still talking in quiet voices. Some just smiled at each other without needing to say a word.

They had all watched it together.

And now, the world had watched it too.

Minjae leaned against the back of his chair, his phone resting screen-down on the table. He didn't need to read more tonight. He didn't need to post anything.

He simply closed his eyes for a moment and breathed.

This was the kind of ending you couldn't fake. One that came from care, time, and love poured into something for months.

A story told, a story finished.

A character let go.

And in return, the world had felt it.

They had cried, laughed, cursed, begged, healed—and now, finally, they were at peace.

Minjae opened his eyes again and looked around at the people beside him.

He smiled.

They did it.

They really did it.