Wie calls for a brief intermission, and the actors disperse to the dressing rooms, leaving the auditorium quiet.Seizing the opportunity, Wie steps off the stage and walks directly toward the production table where Su-zai is frantically typing out script revisions.Wie stops right at the edge of the table, leaning over slightly so his shadow falls over Su-zai's laptop.
"The dialogue in act two, scene three," Wie begins, his voice low and commanding. "It feels holding back, Su-zai.
The emotion is there on the page, but it feels like the writer is afraid to let the characters fully admit what they want."Su-zai freezes, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He looks up, only to find Wie's face incredibly close. The sharp, handsome lines of the director's face and his intense gaze catch Su-zai completely off guard. Su-zai's throat goes dry, and his heart begins to hammer against his ribs.
No, no, Su-zai, that's not good—focus on the work, he commands himself internally, gripping the edges of the table to steady his hands."I... I wrote it that way because the characters are trying to maintain professional boundaries," Su-zai says, his voice a little breathless as he tries to defend his script.Wie tilts his head, a knowing, dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he notes the bright red blush creeping up Su-zai's neck. He reaches down, his fingers gently brushing against Su-zai's hand as he closes the laptop halfway, forcing the writer to look only at him."Professional boundaries can be broken when the desire is too strong, Su-zai," Wie whispers, his eyes locking onto Su-zai's flustered expression. Wie smiles secretly, realizing his plan is working perfectly. He isn't just talking about the script, and he knows Su-zai feels it too.
"Rewrite it. Give me real passion. I want to see what happens when you finally stop holding back."Wie straightens up and turns back toward the stage just as the actors begin to return, leaving Su-zai completely dazed and trembling at his desk, his heart entirely captured.