Chapter 39: Hello, I’m the Blockbuster Writer (2)
After watching the movie, Kim Si-woo and Lee Hae-soo went to a renowned omakase restaurant he’d reserved.
“By the way, no spoilers until the movie’s released,” Si-woo said.
“Of course! I may not look it, but I’m a lawyer armed with a strict sense of compliance,” Hae-soo replied with a grin.
The chef greeted them in Japanese. “Irasshaimase!”
“Hello, reservation under Kim Si-woo,” Si-woo said.
“Right this way!” The chef led them to a corner table.
“I asked for a corner spot, but I can request a change if you want.” Si-woo offered.
“No, this is perfect,” Hae-soo said.
As they settled into the spacious corner, the restaurant filled up. The chef began preparing dishes—simple appetizers, sashimi, sushi—each course presented with flair. Hae-soo’s eyes sparkled with every bite, her body practically trembling with delight.
“This is so good! The sushi last time was great, but this is even better,” she said.
“Glad it suits your taste,” Si-woo replied.
Mid-meal, Hae-soo suddenly opened up.
“I overslept yesterday because I was so excited.”
“Huh?” Si-woo asked.
“It was my first time at a movie theater… weird, right?”
Her expression turned slightly somber.
“Not really. It happens.”
Si-woo said casually, encouraging her to continue.
Hae-soo shared that she was the eldest of seven siblings in a desperately poor family. Her youngest sibling was still in elementary school. Si-woo’s curiosity shifted.
“Hae-soo-ssi, how old are you, if I may ask?”
“Me? I’m 24,” she said.
“And how long have you been a lawyer?”
“This is my second year.”
Si-woo’s mind raced. ‘College is four years, law school three… 24 and in her second year as a lawyer?’ He calculated. ‘Did she start college at 16?’
Noticing his puzzled look, Hae-soo explained,
“I was kind of smart, so I passed the GED at 17 and got a full scholarship to college. We couldn’t afford tuition otherwise.”
“Oh…” Si-woo nodded.
Her family was so poor that even basic living expenses often fell short. Hae-soo, mature beyond her years, focused solely on studying—her strongest skill. She aced the GED, graduated college in three years, and topped the bar exam after law school.
“Now, I send all my earnings home. I want my siblings to eat well and get a good education,” she said.
Si-woo’s heart ached. Her earlier comment about her life being more cinematic than movies now made sense. Her world was so different from his, yet she’d become the breadwinner through sheer determination.
“That’s incredible. Your parents must be proud,” Si-woo said.
“My dad passed away. But my mom was thrilled,” she replied.
Caught off guard, Si-woo stammered,
“Oh… I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to make it heavy. I guess it’s a lawyer’s habit to point out the wrong details. Sorry about that.” she said, brushing it off.
Hae-soo continued sharing her past, and Si-woo listened quietly. After the meal, he drove her home. As she got out, she bowed deeply.
“Today was really fun, Si-woo-ssi.”
“I had a great time too, Hae-soo-ssi,” he replied.
“Really? All I talk about is my past, family, or cases—though cases are tricky due to confidentiality. Anyway, what I mean is… can we see a movie again sometime?”
“Of course. But next time, call me by my name in private.” Si-woo said.
“Got it, Si-woo!” she beamed.
Her bright smile warmed him.
“Get home safe.”
“You too!”
She waved as she disappeared into her building.
Alone in his car, Si-woo reflected.
‘No wonder she kept talking about family and her past…’
***
Back to his routine, Si-woo was glued to his monitor, reviewing actors’ performance clips.
“Maybe I should’ve delegated casting.” he muttered, overwhelmed. “No, focus. Don’t give up.”
By Wednesday, he arrived at CBS for the drama meeting. PD Kim Jin-man greeted him at the entrance.
“Hello, I’m Kim Jin-man.”
“Hi, I’m Kim Si-woo.”
“It’s an honor to work with the blockbuster writer,” Jin-man said.
“Haha, no need to hype me up,” Si-woo laughed awkwardly.
“Let’s head in. Everyone’s in the meeting room.”
Jin-man said, leading the way.
The CBS building’s grand interior impressed Si-woo.
“First time at a broadcast station. It’s huge.”
“Just the entrance. Inside, it’s all the same except for the studios,” Jin-man chuckled.
Reaching the drama department, Si-woo noticed a stark contrast. Unlike the lively entertainment, sports, and current affairs divisions, the drama department felt like a defeated army, morale buried deep underground.
“The vibe here’s… different.” Si-woo remarked cautiously.
“It’s no secret our drama department’s been struggling—outdone even by cable dramas.”
Kim Jin-man admitted.
“New hires avoid us, and staff are leaving one by one. Things are… pretty bad.”
The drama department’s state was worse than what Pyo Bong-soo had described to Si-woo. As he entered the meeting room, some staff greeted him like a savior, while others eyed him skeptically.
“Everyone, this is Writer Kim Si-woo, invited by Chief Pyo. You know ‘Revenger’? He wrote it.” Jin-man announced.
“Hello,” the staff murmured.
“Hi, I’m Kim Si-woo, the writer for this drama.”
Si-woo said, taking a seat. The meeting kicked off under Jin-man’s lead.
Papers were piled high, evidence of prior work.
“Let’s begin.” Jin-man said.
“We’ll start with the six main roles. Writer Kim, then clockwise—share your actor picks.”
“Got it.” Si-woo nodded.
The drama, ‘Our Teacher’, centered on Han Young-jin, a corporate tycoon who once dreamed of teaching but followed his parents’ wishes, double-majoring in business. After a terminal diagnosis during a long-delayed checkup, he retires to pursue his dream, taking a job at a rural high school on the brink of closure. There, he meets five students, each with their own struggles: an aspiring actor who can’t express emotions, a former soccer prodigy scarred by a corrupt coach, a would-be photographer forced to inherit the family orchard, an aspiring doctor unable to afford college due to caring for a sick grandmother, and a student without a dream. The story follows the terminally ill teacher guiding these students to grow and chase their aspirations.
Si-woo shared his six actor choices, plus backups, focusing on lesser-known names. As others took turns, overlaps emerged.
“Lots of overlap.”
Jin-man noted.
“Makes sense—similar images. But Writer Kim’s picks…”
Si-woo’s choices were mostly unknowns.
“Uh, Writer Kim?” Jin-man ventured.
“Yes?”
“Are these… actual actors?”
“Yeah. Some did web dramas on YouTube, others had minor roles. I checked with their agencies. They’re new, but I think they’ll capture the students’ raw, youthful energy.” Si-woo explained.
“Understood,”
Jin-man said, unable to ignore Pyo’s directive to prioritize Si-woo’s input.
“Let’s focus on Writer Kim’s picks and proceed carefully.”
As staff began researching the actors, one muttered under their breath,
“Sigh… what’s this? Does he even know drama? His movies are just carried by actors, aren’t they?”
Though whispered, Si-woo heard it clearly.
‘What’s this guy’s deal? Is he picking a fight? They’re the ones who called me here.’
Already in a sour mood, Si-woo stood and confronted the staff member.
“Sounds like you’ve got something to say. Let’s hear it.”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything,” the staffer deflected.
Si-woo wasn’t having it. An apology might’ve earned forgiveness—he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot, especially since Jin-man respected him. But the staffer’s denial squandered that chance.
‘Fine, let’s see who’s tougher.’
“Oh? I heard you say I don’t know drama and my movies are just actor-driven. Thought I misheard? You know I’m the one calling the shots here, right?”
Si-woo pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Wait!”
Jin-man, certain Si-woo was calling Pyo, tried to intervene but was too far to stop him.
Pyo answered.
“Hello? Yes, Writer Kim?”
“Hey, Chief. Just wondering if things aren’t going well with the drama team.” Si-woo said casually.
Pyo’s voice tightened.
— “What do you mean? Are you at the station now?”
“Yeah.”
— “I’m coming. Please wait.”
The call ended, and Jin-man’s face paled.
“He’s coming.”
Si-woo said, his words heavy with implication.
The room froze. Jin-man sank into his chair, while others urged the offending staffer to apologize.
“Hurry, say sorry!”
“Do it now!”
“I… Writer-nim, I didn’t mean…”
The staffer stammered, realizing too late the mess he’d caused.
Bang!
The door slammed open, revealing a panting Pyo Bong-soo.
“Huff… huff… PD Kim, a word?”
“Y-yes, Chief.” Jin-man replied, trembling.
Gone was the kind, folksy Pyo from the pub. His face was a mask of fury, like a vengeful demon. As he dragged Jin-man out, the room turned icy, and the staffer who’d muttered was white as a ghost.