The scene then cut to the future when both had grown up—the male lead kicked a soccer ball that hit the female lead, who was jogging in the sports field to exercise. The two got into an argument, but the male lead recognized the female lead’s necklace and mentioned it. Thus, the two became friends again. The friendship started to grow into love, eventually leading to marriage. However, the female lead would pass away. In conclusion, everything she mentioned was the memory of a grandfather who sat watching his grandchildren play in his front lawn and reminiscing about his beloved wife.

Though Pailin was a supporting actress, she surely wouldn’t watch this music video. The young girl’s tear ducts would surely burst, just like her mother’s, who had cried just from reading the brief content. But sadness could never outweigh money and fame in the little one’s heart. She had agreed to Pimploy’s proposal with a smiley face.

The boy on the bleachers was told “cut” over and over until the director finally said to let him take a break first. This time, Pailin was called in to be filmed. She followed an older sister to the upper level.

The bleachers were made of concrete, with patches of old, peeling paint. Once edited with a filter added, they would probably get antique and beautiful pictures.

“Little Pailin, sit right here. When the director orders, look over there and swing your legs while making a bored expression,” the older sister explained briefly where she needed to sit and what she had to do before running off set.

Pailin smiled and nodded. Looking down, she saw her mother making a gesture of encouragement behind the monitor. Pailin winked at her once before calling out to the director.

“Pailin is ready.” She raised an okay sign, then she put her hands back in place. She prepared to be in the mood and get into character.

“Scene 1, Cut 2, Take 1—Action!”

Pailin began acting, bringing her spirit into another world, hypnotizing herself into believing she was waiting for her father, who was playing soccer with his friends. She was bored. The little girl scrunched up her face, let out a sigh, and looked down at her feet as they swung slowly. Then, she lifted her head to gaze down at the field, seeing her father wiping sweat with his sports shirt.

“Cut! Excellent. We’ll use this take. Change the scene—bring in the pinky promise scene between the boy and the girl.”

The boy walked back. His expression seemed not quite good. He was probably feeling a lot of pressure.

For this scene, Pailin had to sit next to the boy on the bleachers. There were a few lines of dialogue, and both their voices would have to be included in the MV as well. The same older sister ran in and briefly explained what the two needed to do. It was normal that she didn’t go into detail, since it was the responsibility of the guardians and the two children to have read the script and rehearsed it themselves beforehand.

“Let’s do a take as a practice. Fighting!” The older sister cheered them on before running off as usual.

“Scene 1, Cut 3, Take 1—Action.”

The boy tossed a soccer ball between his hands with a happy face, in contrast to the girl sitting beside him. She seemed burdened by something. With a face which was devoid of smile, she turned to the boy who was her friend.

“We probably won’t see each other again, Tum.”

“Huh? Why?” The boy stopped and turned her way. He held the ball with both hands.

“I have to move somewhere else.” Hearing this, both children made sad faces.

The boy thought—No, we can’t be sad like this. He took a breath, put on a strong face, forced himself to smile, and spoke to his friend.

“Then if you ever come back, don’t forget to meet me here.” The boy raised his pinky. “Promise?”

Pailin lifted her hand and linked her tiny pinky with the boy’s, revealing a happy smile, just like how it was written in the script.

“Mmm, promise.” Both children smiled. The camera zoomed in. It was a slow-motion shot of their little pinky fingers intertwined, moving back and forth slowly.

“Cut!!!” The director called cut, his expression looking somewhat displeased.

Pailin let herself go, slipping back into the world of reality. The little girl laughed inwardly out of affection. She gave surrounding people a wide smile, like a little child who had no clue about anything.

The scene was good, the lighting was right, and the acting was okay. There was a single issue.

There was the boy’s robotic voice that got into the voice recorder…

A “robotic voice” was a term used for actors who spoke their lines as if they were chanting them, with the rhythm of high and low tone resembling an AI reading text from a computer’s speech-to-text system. It was commonly seen in extra roles that weren’t significant to the story.

The weather was hot. Pailin felt a burning sensation on her skin, and in front of her were two reflector panels, bouncing the sun’s heat onto her. Pailin felt like she was about to turn into a solar-powered rotisserie chicken.

The director ordered another take. It turned out that it was nothing better. Pailin thought the boy’s acting was good, but maybe he was just a little too scared. An assistant director went to call the boy’s guardian to help. Pailin remained seated for a while before being called for another take. Once again, it didn’t pass. As for the director’s face, it looked as if he could bite someone’s head off.

This man’s name was Director Wu, a fairly well-known figure. Since arriving, he had sat ordering and showing his power. He kept his distance from the extras to maintain his character. The girl was quite used to this. People with real talent could do whatever they wanted. Even if they tripped and knocked over a camera, they’d still get hired for the next job.

The little girl gazed up at the sky. She wanted to ask the two men holding the reflector panels to shift them slightly before they burned her eyeballs blind.

“Who’s got a fan?” Adisuk, also known as Director Wu, asked for a portable fan from one of the kids on set. The weather was so hot it could nearly burn a buffalo to death, making his back drenched with sweat. How many more takes were they going to play for such a simple dialogue? He had already told them not to accept nepotism kids. A renowned director like him—if he let something unfinished like this air, wouldn’t that just bring down his own market value for future projects?

Once the heat subsided, his mood became a bit better. He passed the time by rewatching the footage they had shot so far. He had just noticed that the girl had performed exactly the same in every take, both her gaze and emotion for the role, without forgetting a thing. It went naturally.

“She’s good. This kid got potential,” Adisuk stroked the stubble on his chin in contemplation.

Hearing this, the assistant director popped his head out from the side of the monitor. “Potential for what, Big Brother Wu?”

“Potential for you to lose your job.” He smacked the other with the rolled-up paper in his hand. The assistant director stroked his head. “Go take care of the kid. You’re wasting time.”

Pailin repeated the scene five more times before Director Wu was satisfied. After that, there were several more shots to film. Luckily, there were no more spoken lines, everything went smoothly. Before they wrapped up for the day, Pimploy took Pailin to collect an acting fee. The young woman wanted her kid to receive it herself, so the girl would understand that this money was something she had earned through her own effort. That way, her daughter would learn to save it.

A female staff member in charge of the production’s finances was packing things into a box. When she turned and saw the mother and daughter, she reached and pulled out a light blue envelope. On the front, the name Pailin was written on it in scribbles. Pimploy pushed the girl’s back, letting her walk in and receive it.

Pailin smiled sweetly. Since she was feeling hot, she had tied her hair into two pigtails. Her face was fair, and her teeth were beautiful, she was a child that whoever saw her would adore her. The little girl raised her hands to perform a wai, slightly bending her knees.

“Thank you,” When she received the envelope, Pailin felt that it was very light. There were probably only a few banknotes inside.

“Kid. Come to Uncle.”

 A harsh voice of Director Wu called out from a distance.

Pailin pretended to be confused and turned to her mother. Pimploy nodded, telling her to go toward the source of the voice. The little girl walked carefully, dodging people who walked past each other to pack things up. Finally, she stopped in front of the bearded man, whose his surrounding exuded an aura of darkness.

Adisuk’s rough hand reached out before the girl. He looked at the money envelope in the small hands. Pailin glanced between the director’s face and the item in her hands a few times before placing it into his large palm.

The envelope wasn’t sealed. Adisuk opened it and saw four one-thousand-baht bills inside. A tiny child, working under the sun all day, and her compensation was this little. After deducting travel expenses, how much would even be left? As for the determination for acting, she even had more of it than some adults. Being in the industry for this long would mean nothing if he saw someone doing a good thing and didn’t support them. It would be a waste of his life.

With that thought, he pulled two more thousand-baht bills from his own wallet, stuffed them into the envelope, and handed it back to the little kid.

Pailin furrowed her brows, reaching out to accept it. “Uncle, why…?”

Adisuk’s large hand gently rested on Pailin’s head. The little girl felt the warmth of an adult who adored a small child.

“Study hard, so you’ll be successful when you grow up. And whenever you feel discouraged, endure it.”

Pailin put her hands together in a wai and softly said thank you. Sometimes, the scariest-looking people were the kindest. You really couldn’t judge people by their appearance. She turned and walked away, but she still turned to look at the Uncle Director again. Seeing him waving her off to return to her mother, the little girl quickly scurried back the way she came.

Adisuk stood up and packed his personal belongings into his bag.

“Heading home already, Big Brother Wu? Today’s heat was brutal,” the assistant director happened to walk past by, holding a Yeti tumbler filled with red Fanta and freezing cold ice.

“What are you complaining about? You should feel embarrassed when considering the child. I’m heading off. Miss my wife and kids.” He walked out to start his car. He drove off smoothly.

“What’s up with him?” The assistant director made a puzzled face. He slurped red syrup from the straw and made a noise of refreshment.