Chapter 11: The Second Work. (2)
When Kim Si-woo woke up in the van, they were in a quiet rural village.
“Wake up!”
“We’re here already?”
“Already? You’ve been out for over three hours,” Shim Ji-young said.
Kim Si-woo nearly retorted that three hours was nothing, but her sharp glare silenced him. Following her out of the van, he entered a building without a sign, unsure of its purpose. As they walked deeper inside, the savory aroma of grilled meat hit his nose. They reached a small room, which Shim Ji-young entered with familiarity.
“Hello,” she greeted.
“Oh, you’re here?” a burly middle-aged man sitting alone inside responded.
“Hello,” Kim Si-woo added, following her in.
The man returned the greeting and asked about Kim Si-woo.
“So, this is the guy? The one who wrote the script?”
“Yes, that’s him,” Shim Ji-young confirmed.
The man introduced himself, extending a hand.
“I’m Park Woong-deok. Just someone who dabbles in filmmaking as a hobby.”
“Hi, I’m Kim Si-woo, a rookie writer with two scripts under my belt.”
After shaking hands and sitting down, Kim Si-woo discreetly searched Park Woong-deok on his phone. His jaw dropped.
‘He said he films as a hobby?!’
Over half of Park Woong-deok’s films were considered masterpieces, and even Kim Si-woo, no film buff, recognized several from movie theaters.
“Let’s eat first. The smell’s making my mouth water,” Park Woong-deok said.
“Sure, order whatever you like,” Shim Ji-young replied.
Park Woong-deok called a waiter and ordered ten servings of premium beef cuts.
“Oh, and two bottles of soju. You drink, right?” he asked Kim Si-woo.
“Well…” Kim Si-woo started to decline, but Shim Ji-young subtly pinched his thigh under the table.
“Argh! I love it,” he blurted out.
“Great! This’ll be a fun night. You’re drinking too, Ji-young?”
“Of course, Director.”
What followed was a relentless stream of soju. The only upside was that the beef helped ease the burn in his stomach.
“This is delicious. Is it Hanwoo?” Kim Si-woo asked.
“Yup, Hongseong Hanwoo. A hidden gem only insiders know about.”
“Haha… wait, we’re in Hongseong?”
Kim Si-woo was dumbfounded, realizing where they were.
‘What the hell… How much are they planning to drink?’
After each downing three bottles of soju, Park Woong-deok got to the point.
“So, you want me to direct a film with your script and Ji-young as the lead?”
“Yes. I need a signature role,” Shim Ji-young said.
“True… your acting deserves more recognition than you’ve gotten.”
“Exactly. Please help me.”
Despite the alcohol, her plea was clear and earnest.
“Sigh… I have one condition,” Park Woong-deok said.
“Yes?”
“No one’s influence gets in the way on set—not investors, writers, or actors.”
He glanced at Kim Si-woo, who glared back.
“I’m not even planning to visit the set. Just let me go home, Director. I’m still exhausted from writing.”
“Young, but bold,” Park Woong-deok chuckled. “What about casting? Can you handle that?”
“As long as you don’t pick any rotten ones. If you do, I’m out,” Shim Ji-young replied.
“Got it.”
By “rotten,” Park Woong-deok meant actors like Kim Min-ho—those who disrupt sets and risk scandals. Having seen projects ruined by such individuals, he despised anything that could sabotage a team effort.
Fortunately, the discussion wrapped up smoothly. Park Woong-deok agreed to meet in Seoul soon and left first. Shim Ji-young and Kim Si-woo prepared to head back.
“Ugh… save me. I can’t do this tomorrow…” Kim Si-woo groaned, gagging repeatedly from the alcohol.
Shim Ji-young, her eyes red from vomiting, wasn’t faring much better.
“Unnie, ready to go?” her manager asked.
“Si-woo, you good?”
“Yes… please,” he begged.
The manager flinched at Kim Si-woo’s groans but, thankfully, he kept everything down, and they made it back home safely.
***
Time passed, and production companies, investors, and product placement deals came together swiftly, largely due to Shim Ji-young’s relentless drive and Triple Actors’ full support. Word spread among auditioning actors that this project was a big deal.
While everyone was busy, Shim Ji-young was the busiest. Before Revenger’s release, she juggled promotional appearances with other actors while also managing ‘Don’t Forget’. Meanwhile, Kim Si-woo was living in paradise. After giving 200 million won of the 300 million from Shim Ji-young to his mother, he no longer faced her nagging. She even quit her job and became kinder than ever.
“My dear Writer Kim, shall I grill some beef today?”
“I’m good, I’ve got plans.”
“Alright, have fun, my hardworking son!”
At a high-end Japanese restaurant, Kim Si-woo waited for friends he hadn’t seen in ages due to his lack of funds.
“Where you at?” he asked over the phone.
- Almost there. Just say your name when I get there?
“Yup.”
Catching up with friends, Kim Si-woo was showered with praise and playful envy.
“You know that Revenger movie being advertised? I wrote it. Pretty badass, right?”
“Man, you finally made it! Holed up in your room all this time, and now this. Lend me a million won!”
“A million won? What am I, a dog? Just drink tonight—it’s on me. But didn’t you skimp out when you got a job?” Kim Si-woo teased.
“Shut up! Do you know how measly a salaryman’s paycheck is? Every day’s a grind,” his friend shot back.
Kim Si-woo caught up with his friends over drinks, sharing recent updates. The cost of the drinks would’ve been unthinkable during his unemployed days, but now he could pay without a second thought.
“So, what’s it like seeing actors in person? Do they have, like, an aura?” a friend asked.
“Well… not exactly an aura, but they do make you nervous when they’re close.”
“That’s just ‘cause you’re a loser.”
“Shut up, don’t start.”
- Hahaha!
After clearing his backlog of friend meetups, Kim Si-woo returned home, ready to crash.
“Ugh… I’m beat. No more plans. Time to sleep. No one can wake me now.”
Bzzz.
But the next morning, his phone jolted him awake.
[President Park Chan-young]
The culprit was Park Chan-young, the head of W Films. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Kim Si-woo answered.
“Hello, President. What’s up?”
- Oh, Writer Kim, were you sleeping? Should I call back later?
His unusually kind tone made Kim Si-woo suspicious.
“No, it’s fine. What’s the matter?”
- So, what are you doing the day after tomorrow?
“The day after tomorrow?”
‘That’s not the premiere… right?’
When Kim Si-woo asked, confused, Park Chan-young explained it was for a press screening.
- We’ve got a press screening then.
‘A press screening? For journalists and critics? Do I even need to go? They might just dismiss me as a rookie.’
“I forgot to ask—how were the technical and distribution screenings?”
- Oh, they were a hit! Everyone’s saying it’ll definitely pass 10 million viewers. All thanks to you, Writer Kim.
Hearing the film was doing well without him, Kim Si-woo felt even less inclined to attend. He’d skipped all film-related events—promotions, technical screenings, distribution screenings—and the team had respected his choice, leaving him alone. But Park Chan-young’s insistence suggested the press was important.
- You don’t have to come if you don’t want, but people are curious about the writer. They’ve got questions.
“Ugh… I’m not sold. What if I go and mess up?”
- Don’t worry, I’ll cover for you. Just think about it. The press can help push us to 10 million, and the more it sells, the more you earn.
The mention of money made Kim Si-woo pause. He knew money was powerful, but hadn’t truly felt it until using Shim Ji-young’s payment. The impact was undeniable.
“Alright… send me the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
- Thanks, Writer Kim!
Reluctantly agreeing to the press screening, Kim Si-woo tried to go back to sleep, but Shim Ji-young’s face flashed in his mind.
‘Wait… that means I’ll see Ji-young noona tomorrow. Damn, this feels like trouble.’
With Shim Ji-young’s grueling schedule compared to his lounging at home, he couldn’t imagine how much she’d tease him.
“Whatever, I’m judging auditions anyway. I don’t need to call her separately, right?”
His worries soon became reality. On the day of the press screening, Kim Si-woo wore the suit Shim Ji-young bought him and headed to the theater. Park Chan-young and Kim Dong-su were already there, greeting journalists and critics.
“President, Team Leader.”
“Hey, Writer Kim! Good to see you. Just grab any empty seat. We’ll have a Q&A up front after the film. Keep it casual, and if anything’s uncomfortable, let me know—I’ll be right beside you.”
“Thanks.”
Kim Si-woo settled into a seat on the left, hoping to nap before the screening. But he couldn’t close his eyes.
“Hey…”
Shim Ji-young’s low voice echoed. He slowly turned his head.
“Who’s this?”
“Huh?”
Her smile was warm, but something about it felt unsettling.
“You’re wearing the suit I got you,” she noted, eyeing him up and down before sitting beside him.
Plop.
“Phew…” Kim Si-woo sighed in relief, thinking he’d dodged a bullet.
“By the way, didn’t you say you weren’t doing screenings? You skipped the technical and distribution ones.”
“Well… President Park asked me to come.”
“…” Shim Ji-young narrowed her eyes, glaring.
“Why… why are you looking at me like that?”
He felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. The movie hadn’t even started, and he was already drained. He silently prayed for it to begin.
“My request…” Shim Ji-young started, but was interrupted.
“Writer!” Kim Ji-hyun’s voice called out.
“Oh, Ji-hyun!”
Kim Si-woo’s gloomy expression transformed into a radiant smile.