Chapter 73: Genius Writer vs. Genius Actor (11)
Caught between the two women’s gazes, Kim Si-woo froze, mouth slightly open as a faint sound escaped him.
“Ju…”
But the sound that came out of his mouth did not belong to either of the two names—
Neither Jung Se-yeon nor Hong Soo-yeon.
“Ju…?”
Both women asked again, confused.
Then suddenly—
Kim Si-woo sprang up from his seat and shouted:
“Jun-ho!”
Because right in front of them, Park Jun-ho had collapsed forward, slamming his forehead onto the table.
“A young guy collapsing already… tch. No one compares to Writer Kim.”
Park Woong-deok shook his head as he looked at the fallen Park Jun-ho.
Nearby, the camera director and lighting director—both radiating the aura of heavy drinkers—shook their heads as well.
‘Does becoming a director automatically turn you into an alcoholic?’
Every profession with “director” in the title seemed cursed with unbreakable drinking habits.
Si-woo hurried to check Park Jun-ho’s condition.
“Jun-ho! Wake up!”
“Urrrghhh—”
If he drank any more, he’d end up riding an ambulance again like last time.
Feeling uneasy, Si-woo quickly called out:
“Park Jun-ho’s manager! Where are you?!”
“Ah! Yes!”
From far away, the manager ran over.
“Please take him home. Now.”
“Right! Understood.”
The manager carried the alcohol-soaked Park Jun-ho out of the restaurant.
After that, Si-woo was faced with two choices:
Return to sit between Jung Se-yeon and Hong Soo-yeon,
Or
Sit beside Park Woong-deok.
‘Damn it… both options are hell.’
If he sat between Se-yeon and Soo-yeon again, one of them would definitely sulk.
But if he sat next to Park Woong-deok…
He would be bedridden for two days from drinking.
Still… between soothing two upset women or passing out for a day…
He decided the latter was easier.
“Sigh…”
And so, Kim Si-woo reluctantly sat next to Park Woong-deok.
“Director Park… please go easy on me tonight.”
“You’ve finally arrived, Writer Kim. Over here—these are legendary retired directors from each department. And this here—our famous youngest 10-million-viewers writer, Kim Si-woo. Everyone, say hello!”
“Oh! Really? Writer Kim, it’s a pleasure. Thank you for hiring old folks like us. We’re grateful.”
They were all people Park Woong-deok had personally brought—
Retired veterans whose skills and experience were unmatched.
“Please take care of me for this film. And just call me Writer Kim comfortably.”
“Hahaha! This punk Woong-deok really kept a good junior all to himself. You lucky brat. Back in the day this guy was—”
“Ah, come on, don’t start old stories again! I’m Director Park Woong-deok! Korea’s top film director!”
“That’s only because we whipped that clueless bear into shape.”
“Pffft—”
Seeing Park Woong-deok unable to talk back at all, Si-woo burst out laughing.
Park Woong-deok turned to Si-woo with the coldest expression imaginable.
“Hahaha. Something funny, Writer Kim?”
His mouth was laughing—
But his face was not.
“Uh… Director Park?”
“Yes, Writer Kim?”
“Um… I’m not feeling well today. So maybe I should drink just a litt—”
“What nonsense is that? You looked perfectly fine earlier. Sit.”
“Just—just the bathroom real quick—”
Thunk.
A massive hand fell onto Si-woo’s shoulder, pushing him right back into his chair.
“Hehehe… later. First, let’s drink.”
And with that…
The gates of hell opened for Kim Si-woo.
***
The next day at 1 p.m., Kim Si-woo opened his eyes, feeling a skull-cracking headache.
Above him was the familiar ceiling of his room.
“My head… hurts. How did I even get home…?”
He remembered drinking at the beef restaurant, but everything after leaving the place was a blur.
“As always… no middle ground with me.”
Just thinking of Park Woong-deok and the row of directors seated beside him made Si-woo shiver.
“I should get something for this hangover.”
When he stepped out into the living room, he saw that his mother had already gone out—but a pot of dried pollock soup was waiting in the kitchen.
On a normal day, he would’ve just cooked instant ramen, but now he was a well-paid, successful son—so dried pollock soup was very much within his reach.
“Haaaah—”
As soon as he tasted the hot spoonful after boiling it properly, a sigh of relief escaped him.
“That hits the spot.”
He even mixed rice into it and emptied the entire bowl before going back to his bed with his smartphone.
“350 messages?”
That was the number displayed in his notifications.
Si-woo always checked messages immediately, so if 350 had piled up, that meant he received them all since last night.
“Who the hell…?”
He hurriedly opened his messenger.
They ranged from Park Jun-ho’s thank-you message, to actors checking on him, and to worried messages from Jung Se-yeon, Hong Soo-yeon, and Lee Yoo-jin.
“Man… replying to all this will take half a day.”
He replied diligently—
One person, two people, three people… until finally answering Se-yeon, Soo-yeon, and Yoo-jin.
Only then did he lie back down and rest again.
It was already late evening when he got up and turned on his computer as usual.
“Huh?”
He saw his name on the front page of the main portal site.
He quickly clicked the article.
It was simply an article reporting that the script reading had finished successfully.
But the list of related articles beside it had much more provocative titles.
They were all about Choi Do-hyun.
[‘Kim Si-woo? I’m not afraid. His writing isn’t art—it’s just money-making.’]
“So that’s how it is… I mean, it’s not entirely wrong.”
Si-woo never considered what he did “art.”
He just did what he enjoyed—
And it happened to make good money.
He had no intention of leaving a legacy or contributing to the artistic world.
In fact, the more famous he became, the more annoying life got.
He had no desire to become even more famous.
“Let’s read the other ones.”
He clicked through.
Articles about Choi Do-hyun preparing for a new project,
Articles bringing up their past “clashes,”
Articles with sensational headlines filled the page.
“As expected… he’s not having trouble finding work yet.”
Si-woo thought that some directors or writers might even try to curry favor with Choi Do-hyun at this point.
“How should I crush this guy so thoroughly that everyone agrees it was well-deserved?”
Kim Si-woo’s usual response would’ve been, “Ugh, too troublesome.”
But not now.
Now he was excited—
Full of the desire to absolutely flatten Choi Do-hyun.
Bzzzzz—
His phone vibrated just as he was busy plotting.
“Who is it?”
Thinking it might be Jung Se-yeon or Hong Soo-yeon, he checked the screen—
But the caller was Lee Yoo-jin.
“Oh, Yoo-jin.”
He answered casually.
“Writer, are you okay?”
“Well… other than my stomach hurting and my head pounding, I’m fine.”
“…Do you remember what you told me yesterday?”
“….”
Si-woo couldn’t answer.
Yoo-jin’s voice darkened.
“You really don’t remember, do you…”
“Huh? Uh… did I mess up? Did I say something weird?”
Sigh…
Hearing Yoo-jin sigh made cold sweat run down his back.
“I’m really disappointed.”
“W-wait—what is it? Just tell me. If I did something wrong, I’ll fix it.”
“You said we’d get hangover soup together.”
“Huh?”
The person who carried the completely drunk Kim Si-woo home last night was none other than Lee Yoo-jin.
And while taking care of him, Si-woo had told her—gratefully—that they must get hangover soup together the next day.
But since he had been blackout drunk, Si-woo remembered none of it and already ate dried pollock soup alone.
And when Yoo-jin got his reply message but heard nothing about meeting, she finally called.
“Uh… just come outside. I’ll treat you to something good. What do you want to eat?”
“Get me something spicy. Please buy me a fiery jjamppong.”
“Of course. Wait there, I’ll come pick you up.”
“Yes!”
Hearing “I’ll pick you up” instantly put Yoo-jin in a good mood.
Si-woo quickly changed clothes, picked up Yoo-jin at her house, and drove to the most expensive Chinese restaurant nearby.
“One Special Beef Brisket Jjamppong, one Deluxe Seafood Gan-jjajang, one large Glutinous Rice Sweet & Sour Pork, and Menbosha as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
After placing his solid order, Si-woo sat down—only to find Yoo-jin staring at him silently.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t tell me… there’s something else I did?”
He asked nervously, in case he had made another drunken mistake.
“No, it’s nothing. I’ll ask next time.”
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
Her expression made it clear that Yoo-jin had no intention of revealing it now.
Sensing her closed-off attitude, Si-woo gave up trying to find out and simply ate.
Thus, completely unaware that Yoo-jin had been jealous of Jung Se-yeon and Hong Soo-yeon last night, Si-woo enjoyed his meal while Yoo-jin earnestly thanked him—saying she learned a lot from Park Woong-deok and the others.
“I’m glad it helped. Later, you have to shoot a movie using my script too.”
“Of course! Trust me!”
***
A few days later—everything was ready.
Set construction, location scouting, logistics—all completed.
Now all that remained was filming.
Park Woong-deok sat in front of the large monitor, while each field’s specialists were busy moving around.
Soon, actors arrived one after another—greeting staff, checking lines, doing light rehearsals with scene partners, waiting for instructions.
“Director, how do you think things will go today?”
“What do you mean how? Obviously it’ll be a success. Do you know who the director is? And those geezers over there—sure, they’ve aged, but back in the day they were legends in this industry. Hah… now their tempers have mellowed out, but during the film-camera days? You mess up once, you get cursed out before you can blink.”
Si-woo watched the very same people who had acted like warm neighborhood grandfathers yesterday now wearing stone-cold expressions on set—as if they wouldn’t flinch even with a knife to their throats.
He finally understood a bit.
“The atmosphere really is completely different…”
“Even the assistants are probably on edge today. Anyway, let’s finish the set shots quickly.”
“Director… if Soo-yeon makes a mistake, please be lenient just once. It’s her first time filming a proper movie, she might be nervous.”
“That kid?”
Park Woong-deok pointed.
There was Hong Soo-yeon, walking around giving drinks to staff and actors, greeting everyone with bright energy.
“Oh… looks like she’s not nervous at all. Good.”
Si-woo realized he worried for nothing.
Maybe because she lived with her grandmother, Hong Soo-yeon was extremely popular among the older actors—and even the various directors adored her.
“She won’t get scolded much.”
“You should worry about that one instead.”
“Huh?”
Park Woong-deok pointed again—
This time at Jung Se-yeon, who had quietly approached them.
Se-yeon looked extremely tense, unable to stay still for even a second.
“Writer… what do I do…? I’m more nervous than when I perform at concerts.”
“Se-yeon, you’re not even filming today.”
“I know, but… how do I put this…? I’ve never been the lead in something on this big a scale.”
“You’ll do great. Don’t worry. Come here, sit next to me and monitor with us.”
Si-woo pulled up another chair and placed it beside his.
“Thank you…”
“Oh boy~ at this rate sparks are gonna fly~ sparks~”
Park Woong-deok teased them as Si-woo took care of Se-yeon.
Si-woo, used to his antics, didn’t react.
But Se-yeon, startled, hesitated before sitting—her expression like someone whose weak spot had been hit.
And just like that—
The first shoot of “IDOL,” the film that would destroy Choi Do-hyun’s career, began.