The script for
It was the product of Writer Woo Yeongyeung pouring out her soul for a fortnight after emptying herself of the script for
Thanks to that, it was the assistant writers who were working themselves to death.
Writer Woo Yeongyeung did feel guilty seeing them unable to catch a proper wink of sleep, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from dancing across the keyboard.
That was simply the nature of creation.
You had to strike while the iron was hot.
Because you never knew when those ideas crammed into your head might fly away.
“Writer-nim, why are you writing a work that’s still in the planning stage like you’re chasing a live broadcast?”
Yu Sangmi, unable to stand it any longer, spoke up on behalf of the assistant writers.
Though calling her a “representative” was generous when there were only two of them in total.
Yu Sangmi was an assistant writer in her sixth year, having worked under Writer Woo Yeongyeung the whole time.
There was a whopping fifteen-year age gap between the two, but they got along like close sisters.
From her first day until now, Yu Sangmi had faithfully carried out Writer Woo Yeongyeung’s words to “be comfortable.”
Not something easily done.
Writer Woo Yeongyeung, who had tilted her head in confusion at first, was now used to it.
“I thought we’d be able to breathe because it’s pre-produced! At this rate, the newbie is going to quit again.”
“If they were going to quit over something like this, they shouldn’t have applied in the first place. An assistant writer’s job is no walk in the park.”
“No, even whipping needs to come with some carrots. What do you mean the next project right after
Bzzt—
Woo Yeongyeung’s phone rang briefly.
It was a text from PD Min Wooseok, who was set to co-produce
Writer Woo Yeongyeung’s brows furrowed as she checked the contents.
She stood up from her seat and grabbed the cardigan draped over the back of her chair.
“Take a short break.”
“Really? You’re giving us a carrot this easily? No way!”
“Then keep working.”
“I love you.”
“Only until I get back.”
“Loy-alty!”
Leaving behind Yu Sangmi, who was giving an exaggerated salute, Writer Woo Yeongyeung drove straight to Britz Studio.
**
Go Hyeonsu came over to my house for the first time in a while.
After filming wrapped, he’d been resting up, and he went out to get some sun for the first time in ages, but he didn’t know where to go, so he came here.
He’d been holed up at home for over a week, yet his face was positively radiant.
That was probably thanks in part to
It looked like the ratings might surpass 10 percent by the finale next week.
For a drama on a general programming channel, rather than a terrestrial or specialized cable network, getting close to 10 percent was considered a success.
Of course, there had been mega-hits exceeding 20 percent, but they were by no means common.
“The only thing worth eating as a snack is a chamoe.”
“What snack. Forget it.”
I ignored Go Hyeonsu and roughly peeled the chamoe from the fridge to bring it out.
He’d eat it if it was right in front of him anyway.
Mother and Father were at work, so only Go Hyeonsu and I were home.
Go Hyeonsu lay comfortably on the sofa watching a variety show.
I, who had been waiting for the right timing, delivered the fresh(?) news I’d received from Writer Woo Yeongyeung that morning.
The piece of chamoe Go Hyeonsu had bitten into fell powerlessly from his fork with a soft thud.
“…Crazy. Isn’t that basically saying they’re pushing you into a supporting role?”
“It’s not necessarily like that.”
“Sounds like it definitely is though? Hey, I didn’t think Writer Woo was like that. Isn’t this too much? Even if the words are different, it’s way too different!”
“The channel arranging the broadcast wants to do it this way, so what can Writer Woo do? At least thanks to Writer Woo, I’m auditioning for the lead role as scheduled.”
“You’re taking their side even now? Ugh, why are you so frustrating?”
Go Hyeonsu huffed and set down his fork.
“Pick up what you dropped and eat it.”
Still, he listened well.
He picked up the fallen piece of chamoe from the table with his fingers, put it in his mouth, and chewed.
The incident traced back a few hours.
Upon receiving PD Min Wooseok’s text, Writer Woo Yeongyeung immediately went to find him at Britz Studio.
“PD Min! What is this nonsense? The lead role is confirmed! The date set for Kang Hajun’s solo audition is next week!”
“I’m sorry, Writer-nim. Hot TV, whom we contacted as our first choice, said they’ll arrange the broadcast if we do it this way.”
Hot TV was a drama-specialized cable network, a channel that had established a solid position since its founding around the time the once-sturdy terrestrial broadcasters began to waver.
It was also a place where works in the 20 percent range—as rare as plucking stars from the sky on general programming channels—were not uncommon.
These days, its dramas tended to pull in better ratings than most terrestrial broadcasters.
“Even so, how can you decide without consulting me? And just who is Seong Sihyeon? Is he an actor talented enough to carry the lead? I’ve never even heard his name.”
“He’s the Hot TV president’s nephew.”
“What? Whose nephew?”
“You heard me. The Hot TV president’s nephew. You know TPJ Entertainment, right?”
“I do.”
It was the agency An Dongjin had been with while he was alive.
“Apparently he signed with them recently. Though it seems he got in through connections.”
“That’s not what’s important right now! So his acting ability isn’t guaranteed either?”
“They say he’s average.”
“Average…”
Writer Woo Yeongyeung barely held back a stream of curses.
“Is that verified? Or is it just the Hot TV president’s take?”
It was practically an insult.
Had it been a work written by a star writer, a gamble to fill selfish desires with the “lead role” would never have happened.
But she couldn’t lose her reason and run amok here.
She calmed her voice.
“What’s the point of getting a good channel arrangement? If the actor can’t act, no one will watch. It’s the same for any drama, but
PD Min Wooseok, who had been carefully watching her, opened his mouth.
“Well, honestly, you said that Kang Hajun is hard-carrying
“And?”
“Wouldn’t it work even better if he took a supporting role in
“Are you seriously saying that right now!?”
In the end, Writer Woo Yeongyeung shrieked.
PD Min Wooseok let out a deep sigh.
“Ah, then what do you want me to do? I’m dying here too.”
“Then let the audition proceed as scheduled next week. Together with that Seong… whatever actor.”
“I’ll try to talk to them.”
“Call Hot TV right now. In front of me.”
“Huh? No…”
“Otherwise I’m taking back the script. The president’s nephew’s debut or whatever—over my dead body will it happen with my work.”
Kang Hajun didn’t know the full details of the conversation that had taken place over a mere thirty minutes.
But he couldn’t argue with Writer Woo Yeongyeung, who was more upset than he was.
Not that he had any intention of arguing.
Of course, it was highly likely that Hot TV had readily permitted his audition purely to make Writer Woo Yeongyeung give up.
‘After all, most of the judges will be Hot TV affiliates. They just have to give Seong Sihyeon high scores as a group, and that’s that.’
But Kang Hajun wasn’t one to despair in advance.
Because he had no intention of quietly being pushed down to a supporting role.
**
A week passed.
The audition for the lead role of Baek Seongchan was scheduled to take place shortly in the basement small auditorium of Hot TV’s headquarters.
“I truly have no face to show you, Hajun…”
Writer Woo Yeongyeung bowed her head before me like a sinner.
PD Min Wooseok passed by her side, looking away into the distance.
“The audition was scheduled anyway. You don’t need to feel so sorry.”
“It’s just that the situation is so different now.”
“It’s no different. Whether there’s a competitor or not, it’s the same—I have to show the judges a performance they’ll like.”
At my words, Writer Woo Yeongyeung raised her head with a moved expression.
“So you’re Kang Hajun?”
A young man with an absurdly tall stature approached with his hands shoved in his pockets.
He wore a youthful face that looked to be, at best, in his mid-twenties.
“I’m Seong Sihyeon.”
Standing before me, he looked down.
Not by inclining his head—just rolling his eyes.
As expected, with solid backing, he seemed to have nothing to fear.
“Let’s do our best at today’s audition.”
“Yes.”
I roughly grabbed and shook the hand Seong Sihyeon extended.
After the handshake, he wiped his hand on his thigh.
Well, well.
The aristocrat has arrived.
“You must be Writer Woo Yeongyeung of
Seong Sihyeon greeted Writer Woo Yeongyeung with a 180-degree different, amiable attitude from the one he’d shown me.
As if it were a certainty that he would be selected as the lead.
Writer Woo Yeongyeung gave a vague smile and only a slight nod.
“The audition is starting soon, so please head in. If you two keep standing here like this, people will suspect foul play.”
“Ah, yes.”
To Seong Sihyeon’s smiling face, Writer Woo Yeongyeung retorted with a mocking tone.
“Please, go in.”
Seong Sihyeon insistently escorted Writer Woo Yeongyeung.
I followed behind them.
Seong Sihyeon and I stood side by side on the modestly prepared stage in the small auditorium.
In the judges’ seats, around ten people were seated, including Writer Woo Yeongyeung and PD Min Wooseok.
It was quite a large crowd for a miniseries audition.
I didn’t know who everyone was, but most of them were likely Hot TV affiliates.
Even the president had come out and taken a seat at the very end.
“Alright, then let’s see Actor Seong Sihyeon first.”
PD Min Wooseok, who would be in charge of main production, spoke.
Guided by him, Seong Sihyeon stepped forward.
I stepped back.
“We’ll start with the designated scene. We’ll go from Episode 1, Scene 23. The assistant director will read the opposite lines. Ready?”
The man operating the camera nodded toward PD Min Wooseok.
“Yes. Once you’re ready, please give us a brief profile first. Then you may begin immediately.”
Episode 1, Scene 23 was the scene where the protagonist Baek Seongchan follows his celebrity star friend Lee Jinhwan to a party for the first time.
A gathering where celebrities and influencers from various fields mingled, tilting their glasses and fostering connections.
“Huk! Jinhwan, is this really a place I should be?”
Contrary to the timid line, Seong Sihyeon stomped his feet with an utterly excited face.
Since I was standing in the back, I couldn’t see his expression directly.
But the judges’ expressions weren’t bad at all.
The Hot TV president was even smiling in satisfaction.
Writer Woo Yeongyeung’s face, on the other hand, was full of displeasure.
When Seong Sihyeon’s final performance ended, she made a request.
“The character seems too cheerful. Could you try it with a bit more restraint?”
“This character has to be cheerful, Writer-nim. That way, when the twist is revealed later, the viewers will be more shocked.”
Seong Sihyeon refused in a voice full of confidence.
“Character interpretation too, now? You’ve improved so much!”
The president was pleased, and the Hot TV affiliates nodded in agreement.
Seong Sihyeon shrugged his shoulders.
“Alright, next! Let’s see Actor Kang Hajun.”
PD Min Wooseok, scratching his forehead, proceeded with the audition while managing the atmosphere.
Writer Woo Yeongyeung was looking at me with her hands clasped earnestly.
“We’ll start with Episode 1, Scene 23 as well. Please begin whenever you’re ready.”
I nodded confidently.