Chapter 44: First Time with Actors Who Can’t Act? (4)
“I’ll watch the awards on TV at home. Have fun, everyone.”
Si-woo said with a sly smile.
“Come on, don’t joke!”
The crowd shouted, catching the grin on his face.
“Haha, kidding. I’ll go to both, to be fair. Should’ve just written one film,” Si-woo quipped.
“Then who’re you walking the red carpet with?” someone pressed.
Another hurdle.
“Uh…”
Si-woo faltered, noticing the actors’ unusually tense gazes.
“I’ll decide when the time comes. Anyway, ‘Don’t Forget’ fighting!”
He shouted the film’s title, downing his drink. The crowd, momentarily thrown, joined in, bewildered.
After that, people hounded Si-woo about his red carpet plans, especially Shim Ji-young and Jung Se-yeon.
“So, have you decided?”
Ji-young asked persistently.
“Well… if I had to pick, noona’s the safest bet. You were in both films.” Si-woo said.
“What?”
Ji-young blushed.
“Fine, if you insist, I’ll grace you with my presence on the red carpet.”
“Grace is a bit much…” Si-woo teased.
“Hey!” Ji-young snapped.
“Wouldn’t I be better than Ji-young unnie?”
Se-yeon interjected.
“I’ll get you a tailored suit.”
“I’ll… buy you a watch!” Ji-young countered.
“Unnie, let your dongsaeng have this. You’ve walked the carpet with plenty of male actors.” Se-yeon shot back.
[TL Note: “dongsaeng” (동생) means “younger sibling” and is used as an affectionate, informal term to address or refer to anyone younger than the speaker, regardless of blood relation.]
“Then you walk with one of those guys over there,” Ji-young retorted.
As the two bickered, Si-woo sipped his drink calmly, his thoughts drifting.
‘Wonder what Hae-soo’s up to…’
***
Meanwhile, the struggling rookie actors were making astonishing progress. Si-woo sat nearby, writing, when his phone buzzed. It was Kim Jin-man.
“Hey, PD-nim,” Si-woo answered.
— “Writer-nim, can you talk?”
“Yup, go ahead.”
Jin-man had finalized the casting list for ‘Our Teacher’ and sent Si-woo a file.
— “Let me know if you want any changes.”
Si-woo scrolled through the document listing leads, supporting roles, and fees. One name caught his eye:
[Han Ye-jin: Kim Ji-hyun].
“What? No way.”
He muttered. The only Kim Ji-hyun he knew was from ‘Revenger’. He called Jin-man back.
“Is this Kim Ji-hyun the one from Revenger?”
— “Yes. She agreed readily and even asked for a lower fee than expected. I figured it’s because of your connection. Is there a problem?”
“Uh… no, it’s fine.”
Si-woo said, hanging up. Explaining his history with Ji-hyun to Jin-man felt awkward.
‘Do I just go with it? Why didn’t she tell me? Whatever, if I skip the set, we won’t cross paths.’
Meeting Ji-hyun now would mean breaking a promise he’d made to her, which would be mortifying. Still, he couldn’t deny she was perfect for Han Ye-jin.
‘Hope she’s not misunderstanding this…’
Unbeknownst to Si-woo, Ji-hyun was misunderstanding, assuming he’d forgiven her and thrilled to join his project.
“Hehe… he’s totally forgiven me, right? Maybe I’ll ask him to the awards.” she mused, her mood soaring.
Another week passed. Si-woo reviewed the casting list and actors’ clips, finding no major issues. Everyone, including Ji-hyun, showed solid skills, though he’d need to see them live to be sure.
Finally, the rookies’ intensive training ended.
“Everyone ready?”
Si-woo asked, having arranged a session to ease the PDs’ concerns.
“Yes!!!”
The actors shouted, brimming with confidence outside the broadcast station. Unlike their earlier lackluster auditions, they were transformed. They’d rehearsed their roles relentlessly, studying every detail, bolstered by Si-woo and Ji-young’s approval. Even Ji-young’s terrifying glares hadn’t broken them—they feared nothing now.
“Greetings!”
The trio bellowed, startling the PDs, who returned awkward bows.
“Let’s start.”
Kim Moon-sik said, stepping forward.
His lines, practiced over a thousand times, flowed like water. He was Choi Sung-yong.
“Why’d I quit soccer? No money, no connections—that’s why! What, you gonna give me cash or pull strings? Just stay out of it, you old teacher!”
The PDs’ eyes widened, stunned by the transformation. Jin-man shot Si-woo a shocked look. Si-woo just shrugged, a faint smile on his lips.
“Excellent. Kim Moon-sik-ssi, your acting has improved tremendously,” Kim Jin-man praised.
“Thank you,” Moon-sik replied, beaming.
“Shall we see the others?” Jin-man asked.
The PDs’ reactions to Lee Hye-jin and Jeon Byeong-doo’s performances were just as impressed as with Moon-sik’s.
“Incredible progress, all of you. No worries now,” Jin-man said.
The three actors hugged each other, spinning in excitement, then rushed to Si-woo, enveloping him in gratitude.
“Thank you! It’s all because of you, Writer-nim. We’ll work so hard.”
Moon-sik said, gripping Si-woo’s hand.
“Writer-nim…”
Hye-jin sobbed, clinging to him.
“Need actors again? I’ll do it for free.”
Byeong-doo added, massaging Si-woo’s shoulders.
“Me too!” Hye-jin chimed in.
“Call me anytime,” Moon-sik insisted.
“Haha, with eyes watching, let’s head outside.”
Si-woo said, glancing at the PDs as he extricated himself from the enthusiastic trio.
Outside, he calmed them and sent them off before returning to the meeting room.
“Writer-nim, how did you do it?” a PD asked, amazed.
“Just hard work.”
Si-woo said, revealing only half the truth.
“So, no more miscasting worries?” he asked.
“Absolutely. Our side’s vetted too, so no concerns,” Jin-man assured.
“I won’t be at the script reading, so call me if anything comes up,” Si-woo added.
“Got it,” Jin-man nodded.
Humming on his way home, Si-woo felt a weight lift. The actors’ progress meant he could finally stay home.
“Phew, that was the toughest thing this year… or was it?”
Memories of Park Woong-deok surfaced, dominating his toughest moments.
“Whatever! Time to hole up at home.”
But his brief joy faded by late November, when frosty breaths signaled a new dilemma.
“Is sitting together that important?”
Si-woo muttered. With awards season two weeks away, calls flooded in, including from Kim Dong-soo and Park Woong-deok, both wanting him to sit with their teams at the first ceremony.
“Ugh… the guy who discovered my first script, or the one who’s been super supportive?”
Si-woo weighed his options. “Screw it.” He chose Park Woong-deok, reasoning he’d already given Dong-soo a script.
He called both, explaining he’d sit with the ‘Don’t Forget’ team for the first ceremony and ‘Revenger’ for the second. Park Woong-deok laughed heartily, while Dong-soo sounded disappointed but understanding, likely due to the script.
The red carpet question lingered, though. Calls poured in from Shim Ji-young, Jung Se-yeon, Kim Ji-hyun, and countless actors, male and female.
“This makes me not want to go.”
Si-woo groaned. With one body and three ceremonies stretching to April, he was overwhelmed.
“Whatever!”
He impulsively called Ji-young, Se-yeon, and Ji-hyun, proposing they attend together. This led him to an unknown meeting spot: a towering building in Cheongdam-dong, Gangnam.
“What’s a place this tall for?”
Si-woo wondered, craning his neck. Inside, a security guard stopped him.
“Name?”
“Kim Si-woo.”
“Ah, Writer-nim? This way.”
The guard said, guiding him to an elevator for the 30th floor.
On the 30th floor, Si-woo wandered, puzzled, until a voice startled him.
“Hello.”
“Whoa!”
He nearly swung his arm but turned to see a short, white-haired elderly woman.
“Hi. Am I the only one here?”
“Seems so. Come inside.”
The woman said, leading Si-woo to a large room where a secretary showed him to a seat.
Facing the woman, Si-woo noticed her green eyes, realizing she is a foreigner.
‘A foreigner…’
Si-woo had assumed she was Korean from her fluent speech.
“Care for tea?” the woman asked.
“Uh, yes,” Si-woo replied.
“Two teas, please. And that other thing.”
The woman told the secretary, who left.
“While we wait for your friends, shall we play a fun game?”
The woman proposed.
“A game?”
Si-woo’s curiosity piqued.