In the parking lot of the LP Film Studios, six actors had gathered around a Sprinter van.
"That was… something," muttered John Strom, Belphegor's actor.
Raymond Lee—Mammon's actor—silently nodded.
"It was brilliant, wasn't it?" Su-Jin James—Satan's actor—chimed in.
"It was a wonderful shot," said Do-Yun Park, Beelzebub's actor.
Peter Kang, Leviathan's actor, also tried to add to the conversation. But his mouth full of snacks made it all sound gibberish.
For a while, they stood around in silence. There was a lot on their minds—and a lot in Peter's mouth.
"Well, I suppose none of us will be able to sleep today." In-Su Kim groaned as he stretched. "But don't let your zeal affect tomorrow's filming. We need to be perfect."
"You won't be losing any sleep, then?" asked Su-Jin James.
"After seeing that?" In-Su Kim snickered, finding the notion ridiculous. "I doubt I will get a wink of sleep even if I listened to lullabies all night. And honestly, I don't want to sleep. It's exciting, isn't it?"
He turned around and boarded his van, prompting others to do the same.
Watching the night sky through the windows of their moving vehicles, the six felt compelled to deliver performances similar to their co-actor.
They had spent days lost in the script. But now, they felt motivated to waste even their nights.
***
Ellie Arnold was lying wide awake, her face buried in her cushion. It had been an hour since she went to bed. But still, there was no sign of sleep.
An image kept appearing in her mind.
'Averie Quinn Auclair, how do you manage to act like that?'
She had thought he was a really good actor when she first saw him at the table-read. Yet the ease with which he portrayed Asmodeus came as a surprise.
Unlike her, he didn't seem to think of his character as a tool for the plot. He attached significance to every action he performed.
The rest of the main cast wasn't much different in that regard. They played their roles with charisma and passion.
They strived for perfection without paying attention to their surroundings. It was as if the other actors and their worries didn't matter. It felt selfish but admirable.
And then, there was that brilliant performance that she could not get off her mind. There were no lines, his movements were limited, and there was not much change in his expression.
Yet that single take showed so much.
It felt like the character had come alive, relaying his innermost secrets.
There was something about that actor. She felt that he would continue to deliver such performances, whether anyone paid attention or not.
'If I don't play a convincing Sarah, I alone will end up ruining our scenes together.'
She remembered Averie's advice from the table-read and walked up to her desk. She picked up the script dotted with fresh observations and sighed deeply.
It had become painfully obvious how little she understood her own character. Suddenly, she understood why Averie had called Sarah 'such a wonderful character.'
Ellie brewed a cup of coffee and opened the script.
There was no sleep for her tonight.
***
"In the lakes of hell, she bathes…"
Hyerin was singing alongside the music playing in the car, swaying her head infectiously.
"And she hates all about it. Yes, she does. She hates all about it..."
Averie hummed alongside her, tapping his fingers to the rhythm.
The sedan was running along a not-so-busy road back home.
"It went well today, huh?" Hyerin remarked, turning off the music. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Very much," Averie replied.
Indeed, he had fun. It had been a while since he last felt so satisfied.
"All your scenes for the first episode will be done by tomorrow at this rate," Hyerin continued. "That is impressively fast."
"I don't have many lines, and the others did not mess up. So, it worked out."
For some reason, Hyerin looked excited. "I'm looking forward to the family dinner scene."
"That might not happen tomorrow."
Averie smiled, watching the night sky through the glass window.
"No one needed a second take today, and no one wanted it either. But that might not be the case after today. The supporting and minor actors will have more scenes to film starting tomorrow."
"Are you saying they will make mistakes?"
"Not necessarily. The director might not want to lower the standards after today's fantastic takes. Unlike today, he might want to go for more than one take for every scene. He might want to try different camera angles. And the actors will also want to deliver perfection."
Hyerin wore an expression of great realization. "Yes, the six of them did look very excited afterward."
'It's hard to appreciate something while resisting the urge to recreate it,' Averie thought.
He wasn't much different, so he understood the sentiment.
'It's difficult, being such a brilliant existence.'
***
The next day, when Averie arrived on the set, he was warmly greeted by Ellie Arnold.
"Thank you." Her skin was pale, and dark circles were visible under her eyes. "Because of you, I will be able to give a decent enough performance."
"You should take a nap."
Averie didn't know what else to say.
"It's fine." She smiled weakly. "Sarah will look more authentic with me in this state."
Averie felt guilty for some reason. But more than anything, he was glad that his co-actor had improved.
A good co-actor meant a good scene. It was that simple. And Averie liked simple.
Just like the day before, he was isolated along with his six co-stars.
The room was far more tense than the previous day. And none of them—other than Peter Kang—seemed to have had any sleep.
Just like Averie had guessed, the filming took longer that day. And just like before, Averie was called to the backlot as the sun began to set.
The makeup artists had done an incredible job making his lips look as bloodied as the day before.
"Scene 14, Arrival, Take 1," read the second AC.
"Rolling," replied the first AC.
The slate was clapped.
"Action!" yelled the director.
It was raining, and the skies were dark.
A black sedan had just parked at the entrance of a beautiful mansion.
"We have arrived," the driver said, glancing into the back mirror.
The man sitting in the back seat gave him a nod.
He opened the door and walked out into the rain without so much as unfolding the umbrella in his hand. He weathered the water as if to cool the raging heat inside him.
The door was opened by the servants of the house, yet he entered without so much as a glance at them.
Two of the maids approached him carefully. They took off his wet coat and brought him a new pair of shoes and a warm towel.
"The guest you have been expecting has arrived, sir," the middle-aged housekeeper said. "I have asked her to wait in your study, as you requested."
Asmodeus nodded.
He made his way up the spiral staircase leading to the second floor. After roughly drying his hair, he threw the towel over the handrail.
The assault of rain hadn't allowed his bloody lip to dry, and he refused to pay any more attention to it. His mind was occupied with other things—simpler matters.
Deep in thought, Asmodeus paused before the door to his study, his hand resting on the elegant doorknob.
"Cut!" yelled the director. "Good. Let's continue the rest inside."