Chapter 75: The Ultimate Idol Who Came to End the War (2)
The part where Hong Soo-yeon transitions into Jung Se-yeon depicts the period after Se-yeon’s debut—when she didn’t gain as much popularity as expected and had no schedules, doing nothing but practice day after day.
“Grandma… I’m off to practice.”
After passing the audition, she gave up on going to high school and debuted one year into her trainee life—but the debut was essentially a failure.
Her contract period was still long, and the only thing left for Jung Se-yeon to do was practice. Just practice.
Her mother had passed away, and her father had gone to the countryside to work at a construction site to earn money.
Sometimes her grandmother’s worried voice pierced her heart, but she couldn’t stop.
She had taken over fifty auditions just to become a singer.
The major agencies all rejected her for various reasons, and after countless failures, the company she finally got into was a newly founded agency with no track record.
And now, after her very first debut failed spectacularly, she didn’t know when she’d ever get another chance to appear on TV.
All she could do was practice—again and again.
As filming continued, Kim Si-woo watched the monitor and began to clearly see Jung Se-yeon’s unique charm.
‘How do I put this… maybe because she’s a singer, she’s incredibly good at vocal delivery and emotional projection…’
If Hong Soo-yeon’s acting was like a textbook, then Jung Se-yeon’s acting felt like an autobiography.
Soo-yeon reproduced the script perfectly, word-for-word.
Se-yeon, on the other hand, emphasized emotional resonance and delivery—their styles were fundamentally different.
“Cut! Let’s move to the next scene.”
Park Woong-deok, satisfied, immediately moved forward.
Watching from behind, Hong Soo-yeon murmured in awe,
“Wow…”
“Why?” Si-woo asked.
“She’s so different from me.”
“Well… everyone has their own style.”
Kim Si-woo couldn’t say that one was better than the other.
When actors reach a certain level, it’s not a matter of who is better, but rather what style someone prefers—whether the writer’s favorite, the director’s favorite, or the audience’s favorite.
“You’re good too. Don’t worry.”
“Really? That’s a relief.”
After seeing Se-yeon’s performance, Soo-yeon had felt intimidated—but Si-woo’s reassurance helped her recover her confidence.
Jung Se-yeon continued to clear most of her scenes in a single take, as if all her years of effort were finally bearing fruit.
“Haa…”
Whenever there was a break, Se-yeon’s manager and stylist rushed to her, caring for her so quickly it was as if they could read her mind.
They prepared her chair, fixed her makeup, touched up her hair, and brought her water—all before she even asked.
Hong Soo-yeon stared blankly at that sight.
“Why? Jealous?” Oh Su-ji asked from beside her.
“No… it just looks… like a real celebrity.”
“You are a celebrity.”
“Ehh, I’m not quite at that level yet.”
“Se-yeon is a big star, that’s all. But Soo-yeon, you’re an actress too. Don’t downplay yourself.”
“She’s right. Be confident,” Si-woo added.
“I’ll work even harder from now on!”
And just like that, another seed of a soon-to-be star was planted.
After another day of filming ended safely, Si-woo searched for the busiest person on set before going home.
“Yoo-jin… as expected, she looks super busy.”
The busiest person at the filming site was always Lee Yoo-jin.
She had to soak up as much knowledge as she could—lighting, camera angles, sound, miscellaneous work—anything she could learn, she learned.
She never refused any task, earning the nickname “Iron Woman” among the staff.
“Yoo-jin, is it okay if I go home first today?”
“Yes, Writer Kim. Please go ahead. I need to finish a bit more before I leave.”
“…Alright.”
But Si-woo felt no pity for her.
Her expression was brighter than ever—she looked so thrilled she couldn’t hide it.
Seeing her so joyful made him feel proud.
‘Bringing her here was absolutely the right decision.’
***
About ten days into filming, news about Choi Do-hyun finally reached them.
He was filming a movie that mixed romance, suspense, thriller, and melodrama.
Of course, his provocations came along with the news—but Kim Si-woo ignored that part completely and focused on gathering information about the film.
“Oh….”
Even the director was someone almost on par with Park Woong-deok in fame.
“The actor lineup isn’t as good as ours, but it’s still impressive.”
Kim Si-woo reaffirmed his resolve—this time, he would absolutely crush Choi Do-hyun.
Fueled by determination, Si-woo quickly finished getting ready to head out.
But the destination wasn’t the filming site—it was a talent agency building in Seoul.
He was going there because of a hidden trump card he had prepared.
Arriving outside the meeting room, Si-woo opened the door and stepped in.
“Hello.”
The meeting room belonged to Two Two Entertainment, the company Jung Se-yeon was signed under.
Inside, many people were already seated—including Park Woong-deok and Jung Se-yeon.
As soon as Si-woo entered, a man in his mid-30s sitting at the head of the table stood up and held out his hand.
“Ah! Writer Kim! Welcome. I’m Lee Do-joon, CEO of Two Two Entertainment.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m writer Kim Si-woo.”
After shaking hands, Lee Do-joon studied Si-woo with clear interest.
“Well then, now that everyone’s here, let’s begin.”
Si-woo walked to his assigned seat, giving a small bow to Woong-deok and Se-yeon as he passed.
Team leaders from each department were present.
Soon, a white screen descended from the ceiling—and displayed was a presentation about Jung Se-yeon’s concert.
Yes.
Kim Si-woo’s trump card was a concert.
Since the film revolved around the life of an idol, the script had multiple scenes where Se-yeon needed to sing—on a music show, street busking, and even a full concert.
Because she was a real singer, this was possible.
Borrowing a music broadcast set was doable thanks to connections with CBS’s Media Center Hall.
But a concert wasn’t something you borrowed—it required arranging a full venue.
And the cost was no joke, meaning a meeting with her agency was necessary.
Slides covered everything: costs, dates, marketing strategies, projected revenue, and more.
The staff discussed it all until the meeting finally wrapped up.
As it ended, Si-woo—who hadn’t spoken once throughout the entire meeting—lifted the microphone and called out:
“Se-yeon.”
“Yes?”
“What do you think about donating all the concert profits?”
Everyone except Jung Se-yeon reacted with shock.
“Writer Kim Si-woo! What are you saying…?”
The head of the management support team shot up in panic.
But Si-woo ignored him and continued speaking directly to Se-yeon.
“What if we donate it together under the fans’ names?”
“…”
Se-yeon paused, thinking seriously. Then she asked quietly:
“Then… what about fans who don’t have money?”
Even now, she was worried about fans who couldn’t afford a ticket to her special concert.
Her concerts were more expensive than others—understandably so, given the number of songs she performed and the overall quality.
Most fans who attended felt the price was worth it.
Still, many couldn’t afford it.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. We can take separate applications for fans in tough situations.”
“…Then I’m okay with it.”
As soon as Se-yeon agreed, CEO Lee Do-joon stepped in.
“Artist Jung Se-yeon, I think it’d be better to consider this more carefully. It’s not something to decide so quickly. We’re talking about a substantial amount of money.”
“Let’s revisit this topic separately later,” Park Woong-deok added, closing the discussion.
After the meeting ended, Si-woo walked over to Se-yeon.
“So, do you really want to donate? If not, it’s totally fine. I only mentioned it because it came to mind. You should just do whatever feels comfortable.”
“I’m going to donate. It’s not even an official concert anyway. I’ll just think of it as doing a free performance for the fans.”
“Then today’s lunch is on me.”
As soon as Si-woo said he’d treat lunch, Park Woong-deok chimed in from behind.
“Am I getting lunch too?”
“Only if you promise not to drink.”
“What if I drink alone?”
“That much is… acceptable.”
“Good! Let’s go. I know a good place nearby.”
Dragged along by Park Woong-deok, Kim Si-woo and Jung Se-yeon arrived at a seafood stew restaurant.
“Seafood stew for lunch… Is this right?”
“There’s no such thing as ‘wrong time’ for food! If you want it, you eat it. Auntie, one extra-large seafood stew! And two bottles of soju!”
After ordering, Park Woong-deok brought up what had happened earlier.
“Writer Kim. Everything is good, but bringing up donations can be sensitive, so don’t mention it too lightly.”
“Ah… yes. I understand.”
“When you ask a celebrity, ‘Are you going to donate?’ even if they say no, the public immediately starts calling them a horrible person who has money but won’t give any. Even though donations aren’t an obligation, people treat them like they are—at least for celebrities. It’s not like celebrities must donate. They earned the money with their own effort.”
“You’re right…”
Si-woo immediately felt guilty and apologized to Jung Se-yeon.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think things through. I was so focused on what would look good to the public that I didn’t think about how it would feel for you.”
“As long as you know. Well, she doesn’t seem too bothered anyway. Isn’t that right, Actress Jung?”
Park Woong-deok stepped in to ease the embarrassment, accepting the apology on her behalf.
“I’m fine. I received my appearance fee anyway. And it wasn’t something that wasn’t in the script from the start… so you don’t have to feel that bad, writer.”
Their seafood stew arrived, and Si-woo continued eating with a somewhat subdued mood.
“Look at this brat. One comment and he’s already looking all deflated.”
“Huh?”
“Writer, that look doesn’t suit you at all.”
“No, wait—when did you start drinking…?”
Si-woo noticed the glass of soju in front of Jung Se-yeon and had a bad feeling.
“Something is wrong here…”
That lunch—no, drinking session—continued through the afternoon. Si-woo endured enough nagging to make his ears bleed before he was finally allowed to go home.
***
A Few Days Later
When Si-woo arrived at the filming site, people hurried toward him in a panic.
“Writer! What is this?!”
“Huh?”
“The internet says you donated—”
“Oh… yes. I donated.”
“But the amount…”
Kim Si-woo had donated a staggering 500 million won at once.
After hearing the news, Park Woong-deok teased him endlessly, while Jung Se-yeon approached looking uneasy.
“You didn’t do this because of what happened last time… right?”
“I did. Haha. I was just… disappointed in myself. I told you to donate even though I hadn’t donated a single won. I guess I still think of myself as a normal guy and think of you as ‘a celebrity’, so I was being careless. Ah! Not that celebrities should donate or anything. I mean I realized how shallow my thinking was. So I thought of something—how about this?”
“Huh? What are you planning now…”
Si-woo leaned in and whispered something into her ear.
After hearing it, Jung Se-yeon’s expression instantly brightened.
“Oh! That might actually be better.”
“Then let’s do it that way.”
“Yes!”