From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 318: Opening Day

Today was the opening.

Today was the release date.

And from the moment Dayo woke up, it felt like the entire day was wrestling him. Not with noise exactly, but with pressure. The kind that sits behind your eyes and refuses to let you breathe properly. Even when he saw the tickets moving earlier in the day, even when he saw the screenshots fans were posting, he still couldn’t relax. Because seeing people buy tickets was one thing.

Seeing what happens when the movie actually plays was another.

The whole day, his mind stayed busy. Calls. Updates. Short meetings. Staff running in and out. Every few minutes, somebody would mention a new cinema adding a showing, or a fan page posting seat maps, or a reporter asking for "a short statement."

Dayo didn’t give any statements.

He didn’t want to talk like someone begging the public to watch his film.

He just kept saying the same thing in his head.

Let it play first.

Let the work speak first.

By evening, his office felt too quiet for how loud the day had been.

The sun went down, and instead of relief, the tension doubled.

Because night meant numbers.

Night meant the first real proof.

He sat in his chair and stared at the screen like it could bite him. He tried to work, tried to read other updates, but his focus kept snapping back to the same thought.

What if it doesn’t land?

He laughed once at himself, short and dry.

It was his first movie. Of course he was scared.

It didn’t matter how confident he acted outside.

Inside, he was still that person waiting at the edge of a door, listening for the sound of either applause or silence.

He checked his phone again.

Then again.

Then again.

He didn’t even realize he had called Min-Jae until Min-Jae picked up.

"Don’t tell me you’re still awake," Min-Jae said.

Dayo’s voice came out calm, but his body wasn’t. "Are you sleeping?"

Min-Jae scoffed. "Sleep? On opening night?"

There was a pause, then Min-Jae added, almost softer, "You want me to come to the office."

Dayo didn’t deny it. "Yes."

Min-Jae sighed. "Alright. I’m coming. But if I see you pretending you’re fine, I’ll slap you."

Dayo smiled faintly. "Come and try."

The call ended.

Ten minutes later, Dayo texted Jang-Wook too.

Jang-Wook replied instantly like he’d been awake the entire time.

On my way.

And that was how the office filled again, not with staff, but with the people that mattered. Not a crowd. Just the ones who could sit in silence and understand why the silence was heavy.

Min-Jae arrived first.

He walked in with that usual cool face, but Dayo could tell he was tense too. He just hid it better.

He dropped into the chair opposite Dayo and glanced at the screen.

"You look like you’re waiting for exam results," Min-Jae said.

Dayo’s eyes stayed on the dashboard. "That’s what it feels like."

Min-Jae leaned back and exhaled. "Okay. Then we wait together."

Jang-Wook came in a few minutes later, phone in hand, laptop bag over his shoulder, like he was a soldier reporting for duty. He didn’t waste time greeting too long. He just moved straight to the side table, opened his laptop, and linked into the system.

"Some cinemas are already posting their early ticket scans," Jang-Wook said. "Not full official box office yet, but enough to see the direction."

Min-Jae turned his head. "You mean... tickets scanned, people actually inside?"

Jang-Wook nodded. "Yes. People watched. They’re leaving reviews already. The night shows are still running."

Dayo’s throat felt dry. He swallowed and forced himself to breathe normally.

The dashboard refreshed.

Then refreshed again.

Numbers changed in front of them.

Not slowly.

Quick, like something accelerating.

A few halls that should have been half-full were nearly packed.

Some locations were adding late-night showings.

And some screenshots were already trending—fans posting seat maps going grey, captions screaming about sold-out halls like it was a sports match.

Min-Jae leaned forward. He stopped joking.

Jang-Wook scrolled and read aloud without looking up.

"’I didn’t expect that scene to hit me like that.’"

Another refresh.

"’The pacing is crazy. No dull moment.’"

Another refresh.

"’Park Hyung’s performance? I’m shocked.’"

Min-Jae’s mouth opened slightly. "It’s landing."

Dayo didn’t speak immediately.

He just stared at the moving stats like he didn’t trust his eyes.

Then Jang-Wook made a sound—half laugh, half disbelief.

"This is... bigger than we projected."

Min-Jae looked at Dayo. "Bro."

Dayo finally spoke, voice low. "Don’t say it yet."

Min-Jae frowned. "Why?"

"Because if you say it, I’ll believe it," Dayo replied.

Jang-Wook glanced up. "You should believe it. This is opening-day night. This is not pre-ticket hype. This is people actually watching and reacting."

Min-Jae picked up his phone and opened social feeds.

And the comment section wasn’t theory anymore.

It was raw emotion.

People talking like they just stood up from their seats and couldn’t wait to type.

Someone wrote, "That rescue scene... I cried. I didn’t even know I could cry in a thriller like this."

Another wrote, "The way Park Hyung smiled at the kid... that wasn’t acting, that felt real."

Another wrote, "I came because of the drama online. I stayed because the movie is actually good."

Then more.

"I’m from Japan. Please release it here."

"I’m in France. Why is this only in Korea?"

"US fans here. We need this in theaters."

"Europe release when?"

Min-Jae scrolled and laughed, not playful, more like relief cracking through tension.

"They’re begging for it," he said.

Jang-Wook nodded. "It’s not just begging. It’s demand. And the timing is perfect."

Dayo leaned back slowly, finally allowing himself one full breath.

His head still felt busy, but the fear had shifted shape.

It wasn’t "what if it fails" anymore.

It was "how do we move fast enough to catch it."

Min-Jae tapped the desk lightly. "So what’s next, director?"

Dayo looked at both of them, and his voice steadied.

"We move in two to three days."

Jang-Wook’s eyes narrowed. "International?"

"Yes," Dayo said with a smile. "We don’t let the heat cool."

In his mind he knew it wouldn’t cool off till the 29 days now so he was calm a bit.

Min-Jae nodded slowly. "We push to Asia first. Japan, Philippines, Singapore—those markets will carry it hard."

Jang-Wook opened a file on his laptop. "I have contacts in the Asian side already lined up. We can fast-track distribution talks if we move immediately."

Dayo turned to Min-Jae. "You handle Asia."

Min-Jae blinked. "Me?"

"You," Dayo said. "Your name opens doors. You don’t even need to beg. Just show the numbers and ask for screens."

Min-Jae exhaled and nodded once. "Fine. Asia is mine."

Dayo looked at Jang-Wook. "You handle Europe."

Jang-Wook didn’t hesitate. "Already on it. I’ll start making calls in the morning. If we get the right partner, we can lock dates fast."

Dayo’s gaze returned to the dashboard one more time.

The numbers were still climbing.

The comments were still multiplying.

And across the feeds, it kept repeating in different languages, different slang, different energy—but the same message.

Release it here too.

He nodded to himself, then said it out loud.

"I’ll handle the rest."

Min-Jae smirked faintly. "America."

Dayo didn’t smile, but his eyes had that calm edge again.

"Yes," he said. "America. And everywhere else that thinks Korea is the only place that matters."

They sat there for a moment, the three of them, staring at the proof while the night kept moving.

Opening-day night.

First numbers.

First reactions.

First real weight.

And for the first time all day, Dayo didn’t feel like the world was wrestling him.

It felt like the world was finally turning in his direction.