Chapter 19: A Writer’s Revenge Takes Less Than a Decade (2)
Kim Si-woo felt dizzy as Jung Se-yeon smiled and extended her hand. Whether it was the alcohol or her beauty, she looked even more stunning.
“Uh… yeah.”
He stammered, shaking her hand awkwardly, already naming their hypothetical third son in his head.
Sitting down, his eyes kept drifting to her, but he quickly turned away, aware of his staring. His efforts were in vain, though, as Jung Se-yeon spoke to him directly.
“Oh, right! Congrats, Writer! Revenger is blowing up. People are posting on SNS about how much they love it.”
“Really?”
He’d checked online himself, but hearing it from Jung Se-yeon hit differently.
“Probably a party atmosphere over there by now,” she added.
“Something like that. Though a few people are stirring up trouble,” Shim Ji-young chimed in.
“Who? Kim Min-ho?” Jung Se-yeon asked.
Kim Min-ho’s name came up so quickly, confirming his notoriety. The conversation shifted to the film, with Shim Ji-young, Jung Se-yeon, and Kim Si-woo at the center. Shim Ji-young encouraged Jung Se-yeon to ask Kim Si-woo for advice, which he tried to deflect.
“Me? Give acting advice to an actor? No way…”
“You did fine before,” Shim Ji-young teased.
“Really? Then I’ve got a question,” Jung Se-yeon said. “How was my audition performance?”
“Uh…” Kim Si-woo hesitated, prompting her to press further.
“No, really, tell me. I can handle it. It’ll help me improve.”
“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that your acting was off…”
Instead of critiquing her performance, he explained the character of Kim Ye-ji, whom Jung Se-yeon was cast to play. Kim Ye-ji was a genius—top grades, refined appearance, wealthy family. The word “genius” suited her perfectly. But with her privileged life, she found many things irritating yet never showed her true emotions. To her, revealing feelings was for fools or animals. In her elite world, masking weaknesses and projecting a polished façade for personal gain was second nature.
That is, until Han Seul-gi, the protagonist’s daughter, appeared.
At high school, Kim Ye-ji met Han Seul-gi and, for the first time, lost first place. She dismissed it as bad luck or an off day, doubling her efforts next time. But she kept losing to Han Seul-gi, again and again, always coming in second.
As Kim Si-woo spoke, the actors listened intently. A writer’s detailed breakdown of a character was invaluable.
“Most people would think Kim Ye-ji’s reaction to Han Seul-gi is just normal anger, but… it’s hard to put into words,” he said, pausing. Then, standing up, he added, “It’s like this kind of anger. I’ll show you the vibe, but don’t expect much.”
Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, Kim Si-woo felt no nerves performing in front of actors. They were curious to see what he’d do and how he envisioned Kim Ye-ji. With all eyes on him, he opened his eyes and spoke.
“You… you’re really good at studying, huh? It’s annoying.”
He reenacted the scene where Kim Ye-ji, after her second loss, confronts Han Seul-gi—the first time she expresses emotion. His chilling tone carried not just anger but a unique disgust, like swatting a bug that bit him. It was irritation, a grating kind of rage. And just as people don’t hesitate to kill a bug, Kim Ye-ji felt no restraint.
“It’s like… a mosquito biting your arm and flying off,” he explained.
The actors stared, stunned. His explanation wasn’t absurd—it was shockingly precise. ‘What kind of writer can act this well? Did he study acting?’
“See? I told you he’s good,” Shim Ji-young said proudly.
“Wow… I was skeptical, but I’ve got chills, unnie,” Jung Se-yeon admitted.
The other actors joined in, praising him. Kim Si-woo, however, didn’t think he’d done anything special—just that professionals were overpraising a small effort, like adults cheering a kid.
“Anyway… that’s it,” he said, quickly sitting down.
Jung Se-yeon fell into thought, comparing her portrayal of Kim Ye-ji to his. The difference was in character understanding. She’d seen Kim Ye-ji as a prideful rich girl, but Kim Si-woo’s version was beyond pride—a warped, almost sociopathic mindset.
“Just think of her as a sociopath,” he added. “Kim Ye-ji sees most people, except her family or those useful to her, as less than human—more like animals.”
“Oh… got it. Thanks for the advice.”
The mood shifted to character analysis. Shim Ji-young pulled out her script, rereading it from the start, and others followed suit. Watching them, Kim Si-woo sipped his drink and thought, ‘They’re true actors, always carrying their scripts.’
Unlike him, they seemed like real professionals who loved their craft.
Though Kim Si-woo felt writing suited him, if asked whether he loved it as much as the actors loved their craft, he’d likely say, “Well…” His work was precious, but the weight he gave his profession felt lighter than theirs.
“Si-woo! Can you explain this scene?” Shim Ji-young called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Sure!”
As they drank and discussed roles, time slipped toward midnight.
“How about a group photo?” Jung Se-yeon suggested.
“Sounds good!” the actors agreed, gathering around.
Jung Se-yeon’s manager entered, taking her phone to snap the picture. Kim Si-woo was positioned in the center, with Shim Ji-young and Jung Se-yeon arm-in-arm on either side.
‘Is this all a dream?’
His recent success—rubbing shoulders with celebrities, money pouring in—felt unreal. He’d been content with just scraping by, but now…
“Am I gonna die next year?” he blurted out after the photo.
Smack!
Shim Ji-young whacked his back hard.
“What kind of nonsense is that?!”
“Ow!”
Her slap stung worse than spicy jjambbong.
“If you’re worried about your health, go to a hospital. Why ruin a good day with that talk?”
“No, it’s just… everything’s going too well. I was jobless earlier this year, and now I’m hanging out with celebrities, with a ton of money in my account. It feels like a dream.”
“Don’t overthink it. Life has its ups. Just enjoy it. When else will you have Jung Se-yeon and me arm-in-arm with you?”
Her words, meant as comfort, sounded to him like a warning: *If your value drops, no one will stick around.*
Meanwhile, two people fumed upon seeing the photo on Jung Se-yeon’s SNS: Kim Ji-hyun and Kim Min-ho.
Kim Ji-hyun was irked that Kim Si-woo skipped Revenger’s party but attended Don’t Forget’s. His goofy expression in the photo especially grated her.
“What’s with that dumb face? Is Jung Se-yeon that great? Honestly, I think I’m prettier. I’m taller, with better proportions,” she muttered, feeling inferior despite herself.
‘Just wait. I’ll be famous soon, and then you’ll regret ignoring me.’
Kim Min-ho, ten times angrier, felt his blood boil seeing Kim Si-woo enjoying himself with actors after humiliating him. He knew exactly what Kim Si-woo wanted: a public apology, forcing him to bow for his fans’ mistakes. His jaw still ached from the club incident.
“Think I’ll play your game? Why should I apologize for my fans’ screw-ups? They’re just trashy trolls,” he growled, rubbing his jaw.
But things weren’t going his way. His fan café and SNS were flooded with pleas for help, and his agency was getting calls. Soon after, Kim Min-ho and Kim Si-woo would meet at Blue Law Firm.
***
Three days after Revenger’s premiere, it surpassed one million viewers, its popularity soaring. The main actors’ SNS followings skyrocketed, especially Kim Ji-hyun’s, whose tall frame and striking features captivated even international audiences.
Amid the film’s acclaim, Kim Si-woo was still at home, writing.
Bzzz.
He checked his phone—Shim Ji-young.
“Hello.”
- Hey, star writer! You coming to the script reading?
“Nope.”
- Why not?!
“Too lazy, tired, sleepy, and it’s a hassle.”
Four different words, same meaning: he didn’t want to go.
- Come on! Everyone’s waiting for you.
“Why does a script reading need the writer? At Revenger’s, I just sat there doing nothing.”
- Well… true.
She had no comeback.
“Plus, I’m busy writing. Going out’s a pain.”
- What? Writing again?
“Just a little each day. If I don’t, I’ll lose my touch.”
- Lose your touch? Like muscle loss?
She was puzzled by the term.
“It’s a writer thing. Anyway, I’ll be busy for a while. Unless you’re buying me designer clothes, I’m not going out. Haha.”
- Tch, fine. But show me your script when it’s done.
“Deal. Talk later.”
Though reluctant to leave home, it wasn’t long before Kim Si-woo stepped out.