Chapter 8: Unemployed Shut-In. Becomes a Writer? (8)
“Hahaha, swapping out the protagonist!”
Kim Si-woo burst into laughter as he revised the script. He sent it to Park Chan-young immediately.
“Wonder what the reaction will be…”
Two hours later, Park Chan-young called.
“Hey, Kim! How can you change the script like this?!”
“What?”
Startled by Park Chan-young’s scolding tone, Kim Si-woo’s mind raced.
‘Was it that bad? I thought they’d like it… Was I wrong?’
As he spiraled into doubt, Park Chan-young continued.
“It’s perfect! Not an open ending, but a sad one—it’ll linger with the audience. You’re a genius, Kim.”
“Oh! You scared me!”
“Hahaha. The other directors all agreed too.”
“Sorry for keep changing the script…”
“Sorry? Compared to halting production over a missing script, this is nothing.”
Since it was the ending, there was still time before shooting, and the location changes were minimal, so it wasn’t a big issue.
The revised ending had Choi Do-hyun dying. Originally, Park Min-hye saved him for a happy, open-ended conclusion. Now, Choi Do-hyun is killed by a bullet from his father, Choi Sung-chan, who is sentenced to life in prison. Park Min-hye, arriving too late, cradles him and weeps, then takes charge of his funeral. The story ends with her looking at the sky, telling Choi Do-hyun to rest well in the afterlife.
It was undeniably a sad ending, but it was clean and impactful. A tragic conclusion might even leave a stronger impression on audiences.
However, not everyone was pleased—namely, Kim Min-ho. He was already unhappy about his character’s death, but the removal of the kiss scene with Kim Ji-hyun made it worse. In frustration, he threw the new script down.
“Seriously, can they just change the script like this? Director, say something!”
“Well, honestly, the story’s better now… Can’t you understand, Min-ho?”
It took some effort to calm his intense reaction, but since everyone else accepted the changes, Kim Min-ho reluctantly went along.
“Ugh… damn it, this is why I shouldn’t work with small production companies.”
Cursing openly, he stormed back to his car.
***
That night, Kim Si-woo’s phone rang.
“Who’s this? Oh, Ji-young noona?”
[Lovely Ji-young Noona]
The name loomed large on his screen. Taking a deep breath, he answered, and Shim Ji-young’s playful voice came through.
- Ooh, Kim Si-woo.
“What’s up, noona?”
- Noona sounds old. Call me unnie.
“Alright… So why’d you call?”
- You really stuck it to him, huh?
“You mean the script? From the way you’re talking, Kim Min-ho must’ve looked pretty pissed.”
Shim Ji-young laughed heartily, recounting the set’s events.
- Pissed? That’s an understatement. He was arguing with the director, cursing, making a scene.
“Good. He’s even worse than I thought.”
Shim Ji-young shared more about the set and Kim Min-ho’s scandals, with Kim Si-woo nodding along, unsurprised.
- But seriously, were you already planning to change the script? How’d you rewrite it so fast today?
“I was just annoyed, so I went home, wrote it, and sent it to President Park. If they didn’t like it, oh well.”
- In that short time? You’re a total genius. So, how about writing something for me, little brother?
Her suddenly sweet tone caught him off guard, and he brushed it off as a joke.
“Come on, even as a joke, why ask a rookie like me…”
- I’m not joking. I’m serious.
Her earnestness left Kim Si-woo speechless.
‘What? Is this because of Revenger?’
‘But why me? She must know tons of writers and directors.’
“Huh…?”
Sensing his hesitation, Shim Ji-young’s voice took on a hurt tone.
- Oh? Am I being rejected? The Shim Ji-young?
“No, it’s not that…”
- That’s harsh. We haven’t known each other long, but I thought we clicked.
Her voice sounded 100% sincere, but as a skilled actress, she could easily perform over the phone. Unable to gauge her true intentions, Kim Si-woo suggested meeting in person.
“Let’s talk about it face-to-face.”
- Sure. Tomorrow work? I’m free since my scenes are done.
“Tomorrow? Alright, fine.”
The next day, they met at a quiet café near his house. Shim Ji-young, disguised with sunglasses and a mask, removed them only after settling in a corner.
“So, you really want me to write a script with you as the lead?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
Unaware of her complex, Kim Si-woo couldn’t understand. But Shim Ji-young opened up about her lack of a signature role, explaining her need for a defining project.
“But… why me? My work hasn’t even proven itself yet.”
“I don’t know. I just feel like you’d write something perfect for me.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just a gut feeling. Spend 20 years in this industry, and you get a sense for people. You just know.”
Actors, who immerse themselves in characters, develop a habit of observing and understanding others. Like psychologists, they pick up on subtle cues—gestures, voice tremors—revealing someone’s true nature or hidden motives.
For example, whether someone is a good fit for you or not.
But Kim Si-woo, unable to grasp an actor’s intuition, grew curious. How did others see him?
“So, what kind of person am I?”
“Uh… a fool who doesn’t know his own talent?”
“…”
Exactly. To others, Kim Si-woo was nothing more than a naïve pushover.
“So, you’re saying I’m a sucker?”
“Haha, something like that.”
“Damn it… So, if I write this for you, what do I get in return?”
If he was seen as a pushover, he wasn’t going to act like one. There had to be give and take. Kim Si-woo asked what Shim Ji-young could offer.
“Money. And my affection?”
“Uh…”
The first was fine, but the second gave him pause.
“What’s with that reaction?”
“No, instead of affection, how about introducing me to a nice, pretty girl later?”
“Deal! I’ll find you a really kind, beautiful girl.”
They stood and high-fived.
“By the way, is there a specific role you want to play?”
“Hmm… something with action and a strong presence? I’m tired of always doing romance or delicate roles—it’s boxing me in.”
“Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s done. But you’ll help with the production company, sponsors, everything, right?”
“Of course. Though, once Revenger blows up, people will be lining up to help even without me.”
Back home, Kim Si-woo dove into writing his next project.
“First, I’ll sketch out the characters and plot.”
His second work: an action movie with a 40-year-old female lead.
“Another revenge story, huh?”
Revenge dramas had been trending since last fall, and with his first work also being a revenge tale, he was a bit worried about making his second one the same. But for a 40-year-old woman’s action story, nothing else came to mind.
“Alright… since she’s in her 40s, I’ll make her a mother avenging her daughter, who committed suicide due to school bullying.”
Kim Si-woo quickly outlined the characters and began typing.
“Let’s do this.”
Two months later, holed up in his room, he completed the script. Around the same time, he got a call inviting him to Revenger’s wrap-up dinner, as filming had finished.
“Should I even go? I only visited the set once.”
When he’d gone to the set, it was so chaotic that he felt like a nuisance, so he hadn’t returned. Neither Park Chan-young nor Kim Dong-su had contacted him, which he later learned was because no one had Issues with the script. With no complaints or revisions needed, filming wrapped ahead of schedule. After Kim Ji-hyun and Shim Ji-young urged him to attend, Kim Si-woo reluctantly dressed and headed to the dinner.
“Hey, Kim’s here! Whoa, what’s wrong with your face?” Kim Dong-su exclaimed, shocked after getting a close look.
“Huh? What? Is there something on my face? I showered…”
“No, your dark circles are down to your chin, and your eyes are sunken.”
Kim Si-woo’s appearance was worse than he realized. Two months of isolation, no haircut, dark circles, and bloodshot eyes made him look like a wreck.
“Is it that bad…?”
“Yeah… eat and go home early. Get a haircut tomorrow.”
Grumbling at Kim Dong-su’s nagging, Kim Si-woo entered the venue, where the boisterous voices of tipsy attendees echoed.
‘Ugh… so loud.’
Sober, he found the noise overwhelming and sought a quiet corner to sit in.
Ding-dong.
Alone in the corner, Kim Si-woo rang the bell to order beef and began grilling it. Just as he was about to take a bite, Shim Ji-young’s familiar voice rang out.
“What? You’re here already?”
“Oh… yeah.”
“What’s with your face? Something happen?”
She, too, was shocked by his appearance and expressed concern.
“Kim Dong-su said the same thing. Is it that bad?”
“Yeah. You look like you’ve been locked in a room for years, a total wreck. Eat some beef to recharge and get a haircut tomorrow. Want to go to a salon I know?”
Surprisingly, her description was spot-on.
Not a recluse for years… but an unemployed bum. Her words stung.
“That kinda hurts. But I don’t have money for a salon.”
“What? You think I’d make you pay?”
“Oh, by the way, I finished the script. I’ll show it to you at the salon tomorrow.”
“What? Really? You’re the best!”
Overjoyed, Shim Ji-young hugged him. Most people would be thrilled by a celebrity’s embrace, but Kim Si-woo, exasperated, gently pushed her away.
“You haven’t even read it yet…”
“Still, I’m grateful.”
Shim Ji-young was deeply moved, knowing Kim Si-woo had worked himself to exhaustion—dark circles and all—for her request. As they chatted and ate, a snide voice interrupted.
“That writer guy had the nerve to show up here?”
The mocking tone belonged to none other than Kim Min-ho, the actor who played Choi Do-hyun, killed by a gunshot in the film’s end.