Purpose Beyond the Spotlight (Please Like and Review)

The golden glow of the Palme d'Or trophy shimmered under the dazzling lights, a tangible testament to Jihoon's victory in this life.

The weight of the moment pressed against his chest—an exhilarating blend of triumph and the realization that this was only the beginning of his journey.

As the grand prize winner was announced, the cameras swiftly panned to the crew of 'Secret: Untold Melody'. One by one, their faces appeared on the massive screen, capturing their overwhelming joy.

Cheers erupted, and emotions ran high as they embraced each other, celebrating the historic moment they had just become a part of.

Jihoon turned to his aunt, Lee Mikyeong, and pulled her into a hug.

She was visibly thrilled, her eyes gleaming with pride.

After all, this victory wasn't just his—it was theirs.

Once the initial celebrations settled, Jihoon took a deep breath.

With a subtle adjustment of his tuxedo, he straightened his posture and strode toward the stage, his steps steady, his confidence unwavering.

As he reached the microphone, the murmurs in the hall gradually faded.

The entire audience fixed their eyes on him, waiting for words that would define this historic night.

It was a moment that wasn't just monumental for Korean cinema—it was groundbreaking for the Cannes Film Festival itself.

At just 18 years old, Jihoon had become the youngest director in history to win the Palme d'Or.

He let his gaze fall upon the trophy in his hands.

The golden branches of the palm leaf, the engraved letters reflecting his name—it was a sight he recognized from his past life, yet this time, the weight felt different.

It wasn't just a personal achievement. It carried a deeper meaning, one that extended beyond himself.

Lifting his gaze, he remained composed, but his mind was sharp.

He had anticipated this moment—not out of arrogance, but through preparation.

He knew exactly what he wanted to say, how he wanted to present himself, and the lasting impression he needed to leave behind.

Taking a breath, Jihoon spoke into the microphone, his voice clear and steady.

"It is a great honor to be awarded the Palme d'Or at my age."

"This is more than just a personal milestone, this is a recognition that Korea's film industry is capable of creating world-class cinema."

"I am deeply grateful to the Cannes Committee for this honor."

He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.

"This achievement would not have been possible without the incredible support I received along the way."

"To Professor Kim Minsoo from SNU, who guided me with wisdom."

"To Mrs. Lee Mikyeong, my mentor, my partner, who has always believe in me."

"And to the entire crew of Secret: Untold Melody—this award is not just for me."

"It belongs to all of you."

"You guys are the ones who made this happen."

"Thank you!"

A thunderous applause erupted across the hall, echoing through the grand auditorium. Jihoon took a step back, his heart steady, his expression unreadable—but inside, he knew.

This was only the beginning.

With that, Jihoon ended his speech, offering one final bow to the audience before slowly stepping away from the microphone.

As he descended the stage, a wave of applause followed him—a standing ovation, a gesture of respect for the youngest director in Cannes Film Festival history to win the Palme d'Or. T

he echoes of clapping filled the grand hall, a moment frozen in time, marking a historic milestone not just for Jihoon, but for the film industry as a whole.

Returning to his film crew, Jihoon held the trophy for a moment longer before passing it around.

He wanted each of them to feel it—to grasp the weight of their collective achievement, to know that this victory was theirs just as much as it was his.

As the golden trophy made its way through the hands of excited crew members, their faces lit up with pride and disbelief.

Standing closest to Jihoon, Lee Yeon-hee, , couldn't contain her curiosity. With a playful grin, she leaned in and asked, "Jihoon, now that we've won the Palme d'Or, can you guess how much our movie will make at the box office after its release?"

Jihoon glanced at the lively group around him, signaling them to settle down.

His expression turned serious as he addressed Yeon-hee's question.

"The box office performance will depend on the market."

"As long as the film receives positive feedback from audiences, it shouldn't be difficult to earn back our investment."

His practical response made sense to the crew.

After all, word-of-mouth and critical acclaim were key to a film's success.

However, just as they were about to continue basking in their excitement, Jihoon dropped a statement that left them all in shock.

"So, let's aim small for now."

"At least 10 million admissions should be enough."

Cough.

A stunned silence fell over the group, followed by an awkward chorus of coughing.

It was as if they had momentarily forgotten how to breathe.

In 2006, the highest box office admission record in Korea hovered around 3 to 5 million, and yet Jihoon's so-called 'small aim' was more than double that figure.

Before anyone could even react properly, Lee Mikyeong, who had been listening to the conversation, nodded in agreement.

"Yes! That's a good target! I'll make sure the marketing department sees it through."

If the crew was already shocked by Jihoon's statement, Mikyeong's unwavering support only added to their disbelief.

However, those who knew Mikyeong well understood why she agreed so readily.

She recognized what Jihoon was trying to do—he wasn't just setting an ambitious goal; he was aiming to boost the confidence of the Korean film industry as a whole.

If they could prove that a Korean film could achieve such high admissions, it would open new doors for the industry's future.

With the conversations still buzzing around them, the Cannes Film Festival's closing ceremony slowly came to an end.

Some attendees began to make their way out of the hall, while others lingered behind to network.

Though only one Korean film had won an award this year, the buzz surrounding Jihoon's historic win was already spreading like wildfire across media outlets.

One by one, reports about Jihoon flooded both online and offline platforms.

Meanwhile, film companies that had been eager to acquire overseas distribution rights for 'Secret: Untold Melody' were in a frenzy.

They had been waiting for Jihoon to negotiate the terms, but he had deliberately delayed discussions.

Now that he had won the Palme d'Or, the film's value had skyrocketed, making the competition for its rights even fiercer.

Back in Korea, excitement reached new heights, especially among the media outlets that had traveled all the way to Cannes to cover the festival.

While they hadn't yet secured an interview with Jihoon, Mikyeong had promised them that if he won, she would personally persuade him to do at least one interview.

Although Jihoon had not officially agreed, Mikyeong was confident that this would be an excellent marketing tactic. Aside from his directing talent, Jihoon's youthful charisma and striking looks would undoubtedly draw audiences to theaters.

Even without the interview, the Korean media had already begun circulating headlines about Jihoon's historic achievement.

Some of the more eye-catching ones included:

"The Pride of Korea: Young or Just Incredibly Talented?"

"Elixir to the Film Industry's Future"

"Korea's Perfect Bachelor: Lee Jihoon"

After the whirlwind of the closing ceremony and the star-studded afterparty, Jihoon finally stepped into his hotel suite, shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

The room was silent, a stark contrast to the energy and applause he had been surrounded by all night. He loosened his tie and collapsed onto the couch, his fingers instinctively reaching for his phone.

As he unlocked the screen, he noticed a missed call from Taeyeon.

Raising an eyebrow, he checked the time—just past 10 PM in Korea.

Not too late.

With a slight smirk, he tapped her number and waited as the dial tone rang.

After a few rings, her voice came through, slightly groggy but still sharp.

"YA! Lee Jihoon! you better have a good reason for calling this late."

Jihoon chuckled. "Oh? And here I thought you'd be honored to receive a call from the youngest Palme d'Or winner in history."

Taeyeon scoffed. "Oh please, Cannes this, Cannes that—it's all over the news."

"I couldn't escape it even if I wanted to."

"You sound jealous," Jihoon teased.

"Pfft. Jealous? I mean, sure, winning Cannes is cool and all, but did you ever consider that I was waiting for your call?"

"Do you know how exhausting it is to hear my members to fangirl over you?"

Jihoon laughed. "Wait, seriously? Who's the biggest fangirl?"

"Not telling," Taeyeon replied smugly. "But let's just say… you might have to sign a poster or two."

Jihoon smirked. "Fine, but only if you admit you were watching my speech live, waiting for me to mention your name."

"In your dreams, Director Lee."

"Fair enough," Jihoon said, leaning back against the couch. "But admit it—you felt at least a little proud, right?"

There was a brief pause before Taeyeon responded, her tone smug.

"Maybe. Just a little. But only because I'm part of history too!"

"Don't forget, I sang your OST!"

Jihoon chuckled. "Wow, you don't have to be so humble."

"Hey, facts are facts," she shot back.

"Anyway, now that you've won the biggest award in film, what's next?"

"Gonna disappear into work again?"

Jihoon stretched his legs out. "Nah, I think I'll take a break."

"Maybe catch up with some very busy idols who never return my calls."

Taeyeon let out a dramatic sigh. "Sounds exhausting."

"But sure, that works."

"For now, I'm going to sleep—some of us have actual schedules tomorrow, you know."

Jihoon smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Sleep well, Taeyeon. I'll call you when I'm back."

"You better," she muttered sleepily. "Night, Director Lee."

"Night, Singer Kim."

As the call ended, Jihoon found himself smiling. Winning at Cannes was a dream come true, but moments like this—bantering with an old friend—was something unfamiliar to him.

For once, there was no goal to chase, no strategy to plan. Just a simple, meaningless conversation with someone, and somehow, that felt just as rewarding.

Maybe that was the purpose of his second chance— to live a life where he could just be a normal person.

A life where he didn't have to chase fame or success, but could simply exist, enjoying moments like this without any grand ambition weighing him down.

[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe for bestowing the power stone!]