Chapter 26: Ready to Soar (3)
Kim Ji-hyun and her manager’s faces twisted at Kim Si-woo’s exaggerated, cutesy tone.
“What are you doing?” Kim Ji-hyun asked, incredulous.
“Showing you your character,” Kim Si-woo replied.
“Even for a bubbly, immature role, sounding like your tongue’s cut in half is…”
“What, you don’t want to do it? Or can’t?” he challenged, hitting her pride.
Kim Ji-hyun lowered her head, clenching her fists, too angry to respond.
“It’s your call if you take my advice or not. I’m out. You begged me to come, but if you’re not listening, there’s no point staying,” Kim Si-woo said, turning to leave.
Her soft voice stopped him. “I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“I said I’ll do it! Just tell me what to do!”
She retreated to a corner, muttering to herself, then approached the director to resume shooting.
“Action!”
At the director’s call, Kim Ji-hyun performed. Her delivery wasn’t as exaggerated as Kim Si-woo’s, but it was noticeably lighter—about a quarter of his example.
“Okay! Cut. Great job, Ji-hyun,” the director praised.
“Thank you,”
She mumbled, her face red with embarrassment as she hurried back to Kim Si-woo.
“Ugh, how am I supposed to keep this up?!”
“Then quit acting. Or stick to roles you’re good at,” he said coldly.
“That’s not what I meant…”
She trailed off, shrinking under his sharp tone.
“Hey, even if you’re here to help, isn’t that a bit rude to our actor?” her manager interjected, stepping in front of Kim Si-woo.
Kim Si-woo sighed.
“…”
“It’s fine, Manager. Please…”
Kim Ji-hyun said, trying to defuse the tension.
But Kim Si-woo was fed up with the situation. He addressed the manager directly.
“You’re her manager, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I get it, seeing your actor get criticized stings. But are you doing your job right? If all you do is drive her around and coddle her, she’d be better off with a taxi. Or are you just a manager to hang around celebrities?”
“You little—!”
The manager stepped forward menacingly, but Kim Si-woo didn’t flinch.
“Manager, stop! Please step away,” Kim Ji-hyun pleaded.
Kim Si-woo wasn’t just annoyed with the manager. The spineless director, the yawning staff, the incompetent manager, and Kim Ji-hyun’s budding “celebrity disease”—the entire set rubbed him the wrong way.
Fuming, the manager stormed off to smoke, glaring at Kim Si-woo.
‘This is annoying… Is this normal?’
Kim Si-woo thought. Working with Shim Ji-young and Park Woong-deok had raised his standards.
“Anyway, Ji-hyun, I thought you were just upset about me being close with Ji-young noona. Guess I was wrong,” he said.
Initially, he’d assumed her frustration stemmed from jealousy over his bond with Shim Ji-young—understandable, as she was human too. He’d come to the set, despite the hassle, because he cared. A 21-year-old getting hate comments, drunk and calling him for comfort, had worried him. But seeing her in person, it looked like the early stages of celebrity arrogance.
Picky about this, picky about that, yet wanting to act without criticism—it irritated him. She hadn’t been like this before. She used to eagerly seek advice from directors, writers, and actors to improve. Now, it seemed like celebrity disease, amplified by her sudden fame.
“Ji-hyun, go to a salon and adjust your hairstyle, makeup, and wardrobe to fit the character. That’s all my advice. I regret coming here. Should’ve stayed home and slept. Good luck with your drama—go calm down that clueless manager,” he said, walking away.
Kim Ji-hyun stayed silent, head bowed.
On his way home, Kim Si-woo’s mind churned. ‘Was I too harsh?’
Kim Ji-hyun was his first actor, the one he’d cast for his debut film’s lead. He had some affection for her. Seeing her teary-eyed as he left left a bad taste.
“Ugh, whatever. This is giving me a headache. I’ll write and sleep when I get home.”
***
While Kim Si-woo was at Kim Ji-hyun’s set, the office of W Film buzzed with excitement.
“Argh! We broke 10 million!” someone shouted.
“What? 10 million?!”
A 10-million-viewer film was added to W Film’s legacy.
“What’s our company’s record?”
“5.61 million.”
This was nearly double their previous best, and with screening time left, it could go higher.
“Jackpot! I’m stealing the boss’s card today!”
Kim Dong-su declared, racing to the president’s office.
There, Park Chan-young was obsessively refreshing Revenger’s viewership numbers.
“Chan-young hyung!” Kim Dong-su yelled.
“Kim Dong-su!” Park Chan-young replied.
“Chan-young hyung!”
“Kim Dong-su!”
The two men shouted each other’s names before rushing into a celebratory embrace.
“Ten million! We hit ten million!” Kim Dong-su exclaimed.
“Right? So, about that card for the wrap party…” Kim Dong-su hinted.
“…”
The joyful moment soured as Kim Dong-su brought up a party. Park Chan-young pushed him away.
“You guys have been throwing parties every million since five, all on my card—picking expensive stuff like wagyu and tuna,” Park grumbled.
“Come on, hyung! It’s ten million! You’re gonna be stingy now?” Kim Dong-su teased.
Park Chan-young sat back, pondering.
“Fine. Here’s the deal: secure Kim Si-woo’s next project. Better yet, get him to sign with us. Do that, and I’ll give you a five-time party pass. Seriously, how does one party cost five million won?”
“I’ve been trying, but he says he’s not thinking about his next project yet and isn’t signing anywhere,” Kim Dong-su admitted.
“Then no party.”
At that, Kim Dong-su stood. “Giving up?”
“Nope. I’m going to his house to make an impression. But I’m buying a gift with your card, hyung.”
“What?!”
Kim Dong-su flashed a card—Park Chan-young’s, swiped from his wallet.
“Hey, that’s mine! Give it back!” Park shouted.
“Be right back!” Kim Dong-su called, bolting out.
With a team member in tow, he headed to a department store.
“Today, we do whatever it takes to secure Kim Si-woo’s next project. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Even if we don’t get a deal, we need to leave an impression. We were the ones who recognized his first script, right?”
“Absolutely.”
At the store, Kim Dong-su was stumped on what to buy.
‘Fruit? Too cliché. Wagyu? He’ll eat that daily once he gets his payout. A luxury watch? Chan-young hyung might strangle me…’
As he deliberated, his colleague pointed to something.
“Team Leader, how about that?”
“Huh? That could work.”
They purchased the item and headed to Kim Si-woo’s house.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Who is it?” a middle-aged woman’s voice answered.
Kim Dong-su grinned.
“Hello! We’re from the film production company that worked with Writer Kim Si-woo.”
“Just a moment.”
Kim Si-woo’s mother opened the door, revealing Kim Dong-su, his colleague, and a large object behind them.
“Oh my! What’s that?” she exclaimed.
“Just a small token of appreciation,” Kim Dong-su said.
The gift was a high-end massage chair. A technician peeked out.
“Ma’am, can we install it now?”
“My son’s out…”
“No worries! We’ll come back another time,” Kim Dong-su assured.
“Well… come in,” she said, letting them in.
The technician installed the chair where she directed, then left. Kim Dong-su and his colleague sat, waiting.
“So, you’re here to see my son?” she asked.
“Yes, we wanted to discuss his next project. By the way, try the chair, ma’am.”
“Oh, with guests here?”
“It’s fine! Go ahead.”
Kim Dong-su’s plan was calculated. Knowing Kim Si-woo was out, he targeted his parents, who spent the most time with him, to score points for a future deal.
It worked. When Kim Si-woo returned and saw his parents praising him while using the chair, he felt grateful. Regardless of their motives, they’d lifted his spirits.
“I should at least show them my next script…”
He muttered, sending Kim Dong-su a text.
[Thanks. My parents love it. I’ll let you know first when I prep my next project.]
Kim Dong-su rushed to show Park Chan-young the message at a bar, where he was getting scolded. The massage chair cost over six million won—charged to Park’s personal card.
“Look! Stop nagging and read this!” Kim Dong-su urged.
Park glanced at the text, his expression conflicted.
“What? It’s just a verbal promise. What if he forgets?”
“You know Kim Si-woo keeps his word,” Kim Dong-su countered.
“True, but…” Park clutched his head, groaning. “My wife’s gonna kill me… You could’ve used the company card!”
“It’s a gift! How do you use a company card for that?”
Park glared at Kim Dong-su’s inconvenient honesty.
“Argh!”
“Hyung, don’t mess up your hair like that. You might regret it,”
Kim Dong-su said, touching his own thinning hair.
Park’s irritation softened into pity.
“Fine, whatever. Let’s drink. With the money coming in, what’s six million?”
“Cheers to that!”
They clinked glasses, drinking late into the night.
***
Days later, Kim Si-woo found fault with his own script for the first time.
“Why did I write this scene…?”
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