Chapter 83: Round Two (4)
“Uh… hello?”
Park Woong-deok answered the phone.
“Yeah… yeah… alright, got it.”
After responding a few times, he hung up and slowly turned his head.
“What did they say?”
Since Park Woong-deok didn’t speak right away, Kim Si-woo asked first.
“The thing is…”
“Please don’t drag it out—just say it.”
“Well… we won.”
“…What?”
“I said, we won.”
“Then why are you acting like we lost? Seriously…”
“It’s more fun this way.”
While Si-woo scolded him, cheers exploded from behind them.
“Tonight is a party! A party~!”
Everyone drank and celebrated with all they had.
“Whew… how big is the gap?”
“Twice?”
“…What?”
Last time, the numbers were close.
But now the difference was dramatic.
“We hit 400,000. They hit 200,000.”
400,000 in a single day.
At this pace, it was almost certain they’d break ten million again.
“That’s a bigger difference than I expected…”
As Si-woo raised an eyebrow in suspicion, Shim Ji-young shouted happily from behind him, already tipsy:
“That’s because I was in it last time!”
“So… that means thanks to you, sunbae, our writer had to work twice as hard?” Hong Soo-yeon joked.
“…There’s thorns in that tone of yours.”
“You’re one to talk, sunbae.”
And just like that, Kim Ji-hyun and Shim Ji-young began sparring again.
Park Woong-deok stepped between them to mediate.
“If you’re gonna fight, fight with alcohol. I’ll be the referee. Winner gets to work with Writer Kim in the next movie.”
“Really!?”
“No takebacks!”
“Wait—don’t I get a say in this—?”
Si-woo tried to interrupt, since they were deciding his next casting without him, but Hong Soo-yeon tugged on his sleeve.
“Oppa…”
When he turned, she shook her head firmly.
“…Alright.”
What made it even funnier was this:
Although it was supposed to be a drinking duel between Ji-young and Ji-hyun,
Park Woong-deok drank alongside them every time they took a shot.
***
The Next Afternoon
When everyone finally woke up, most of them looked like death.
Kim Ji-hyun and Shim Ji-young were no exception.
Their duel had clearly taken a toll—they still hadn’t fully recovered.
“Director, so… who won yesterday?”
Si-woo approached the only person who looked somewhat normal—Park Woong-deok.
Park smirked faintly.
“I won.”
“…What?”
The answer was so unexpected that Si-woo froze.
“I’m kidding. It was a draw. They both passed out while drinking.”
“….”
Hearing that they knocked themselves unconscious mid-competition, Si-woo didn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“Relief? If it’s a draw, then that means either they both get to be in your next project, or neither of them does.”
“…Wait, isn’t a draw just… void?”
“Come on. They both clearly want to act with you. Why not just let them? It’s not like they’re bad actresses.”
“…I’ll think about it.”
After washing up briefly, Si-woo stepped outside and cured his hangover with a cup of instant ramen.
“Ha… cup ramen really is the best hangover cure.”
As Kim Si-woo was eating cup ramen outside, someone sat down beside him.
“Oppa!”
“You’re awake? How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I didn’t drink much yesterday.”
“Good. Then hurry up and eat cup ramen too. Cup ramen is the best for hangovers.”
Hearing that, Hong Soo-yeon quickly ran back inside and returned with her own cup ramen.
“How’s Yu-hyun doing?”
“Yu-hyun unnie? Hmm… she takes care of me really well. She’s a bit blunt, but still.”
“Yeah? Then that’s good.”
“So… have you decided what you’re going to do from now on?”
“Huh?”
Since the movie was now officially released, Si-woo was sure Soo-yeon would become busier, so he asked her again about her plans.
“Siwoo Film isn’t a professional company. It’s a good place for beginner actors to gain experience, but… if you want to be more active as an actress, you’re going to need to move to a bigger, better agency eventually.”
At those words, Soo-yeon lowered her gaze and replied gloomily.
“Oppa… I just like things the way they are now. Siwoo Film has you, everyone there is kind, and… I earn way more than I did doing part-time jobs…”
“If you sign with a big company, you’ll be able to pay me back right away, and you’ll be able to buy your own place soon too.”
“I don’t want to.”
Her voice suddenly rose—her first time yelling at Si-woo.
“I said I don’t want to! I’m not going! I won’t!”
She suddenly shouted, turned around, and stormed back into the building.
“Hey, Soo-yeon—”
Si-woo reached out to stop her, but instead sat back down and stared at the ramen she’d left behind.
“…What do I do with this ramen now…”
***
Meanwhile, after seeing that the audience numbers were more than double in Si-woo’s film, Choi Do-hyun slammed his desk hard.
“This is all because of that damned script!”
He firmly believed the gap in viewership came from differences in screen play and marketing.
“There’s no other explanation for a gap this big!”
“Do-hyun…”
“Hyung. Did the company even promote properly? Why did all the things I said on the broadcast get edited out?”
“Calm down for a minute.”
“How am I supposed to calm down!? At this rate, actors are going to keep getting chewed up… and we’ll get another Yong-jun hyung. I have to win. No matter what.”
Choi Do-hyun trembled—clearly showing symptoms of serious obsession.
During this project, he had realized one thing with painful certainty:
If you’re not a top-tier actor, the system will crush you.
Extra actors were treated like disposable tools.
But in his fixation on Lee Yong-jun’s death, Do-hyun failed to recognize something:
Directors and staff were in the same situation.
A director simply didn’t have the capacity to personally care for every extra on set.
One failure meant losing all future investments—so maintaining the lead actor’s condition mattered far more.
Film production wasn’t some cheap playground.
And staff?
Unless they were highly experienced, their working conditions were often worse than those of extra actors.
Everyone had to protect themselves.
And so, Do-hyun’s downfall crept ever closer.
***
A week later, while evaluations of Choi Do-hyun himself were decent, evaluations of the movie had plummeted to the floor and turned into a laughingstock.
Viewers said:
Do-hyun stole all the attention
They couldn’t focus even when the female lead appeared
The movie’s story didn’t stick at all
Meanwhile, Jung Se-yeon’s stock price climbed higher every single day.
Especially her concert scene—her singing while staring into the camera—became legendary among fans.
And she wasn’t the only one.
Supporting actors were flooded with advertisement offers.
Hong Soo-yeon especially soared, earning the nickname “Little Jung Se-yeon,” dominating teenage popularity charts and rising quickly in brand rankings.
She became the biggest beneficiary of Idol, right alongside Se-yeon.
But there was one downside:
Since shouting at Si-woo at the pension, she had been awkward around him.
Before their relationship could return to normal, she became busy with CF shoots and preparing for her next project.
Si-woo was also busy preparing Celebrity Secret Rescue Team at CBS, so they rarely saw each other.
‘Seriously… if it weren’t for these kids…’
The actors of Siwoo Film, being first-timers, kept asking Si-woo for help nonstop.
Kim Si-woo raised his voice, asking what exactly they expected him to help with, but the actors pleaded that they just wanted him to be there.
They said just having him nearby would make them feel secure.
Unable to ignore their earnest expressions, Si-woo reluctantly agreed to at least accompany them through the script reading.
And now, as they arrived at CBS to sign their contracts, they were receiving Si-woo’s sharp glare.
Choi Ha-rang and Lee Jae-goo quickly averted their eyes.
They knew very well that getting on Kim Si-woo’s bad side never ended well—no matter where you were.
“By the way, you do know this, right? Even as supporting roles, rookie actors normally never get paid this much.”
One of the PDs handling the contract brought up the topic of appearance fees.
Ha-rang and Jae-goo looked confused.
The PD glanced at Si-woo, and since Si-woo nodded that it was fine to explain, the PD continued.
“Hahaha… Actually, Writer Kim agreed to take a smaller script fee and asked us to raise the actors’ pay. Normally, well…”
The PD wrote down the original payment amount on paper and showed it to them.
Ha-rang and Jae-goo immediately looked back at Si-woo.
“…Why?”
“N–Nothing.”
Realizing just how expensive Kim Si-woo’s scripts truly were, both swallowed hard and hurriedly signed the contract.
“We’ll do our best.”
“Yes, let’s all work hard so we don’t tarnish Writer Kim’s name. All of us.”
The PD’s words carried many layers of meaning, but one thing was clear:
They were treating Si-woo’s work like a sacred treasure.
After the signing, Ha-rang and Jae-goo rushed outside to call their parents.
Their parents kept repeating “Congratulations!” and “You’ve worked so hard,” and soon both actors were crying rivers in front of the CBS building.
When they finished their calls, they bowed deeply to Si-woo again.
“Writer Kim. Thank you.”
They had already thanked him countless times, but repeated it again.
Si-woo responded, visibly tired of hearing it.
“If you’re grateful, then just act well. And treat your parents to something delicious with your pay.”
“Yes!”
After parting ways with Ha-rang and Jae-goo, Si-woo headed home.
“Finally… I can get some rest.”
His remaining work was only CBS-related, so unless Kim Jin-man called, he had nothing urgent to worry about.
Bzzzzz.
That evening, a call came from Chae Yu-hyun.
“Chae Yu-hyun?”
Si-woo had previously told her to call immediately if anything special happened while escorting Hong Soo-yeon.
This was her first such call.
“So, what happened?”
– Well… today…
Yu-hyun slowly explained what happened during the day’s commercial shoot.
The shoot had been for a cosmetics advertisement filmed with a male idol.
The filming itself ended normally—but afterward, the male idol approached Soo-yeon and asked for her number.
“So what do you think? What was it like?”
– He seemed… flirtatious.
“Did she give him her number?”
– No. I gave him my number instead and sent him off.
“Good job. If anything like that happens again, contact me right away.”
– Yes, Writer Kim.
After ending the call, Si-woo felt relieved he had chosen Yu-hyun as the manager.
Once, he’d secretly visited set and witnessed for himself how excessively attentive Yu-hyun was to Soo-yeon.
Since then, he’d never worried about her as a manager — but the real problems, as always, came from outside.
“This is why a big agency might be necessary…”
A large entertainment company would have prevented these annoyances before they even happened.
Afterward, Si-woo called Hong Soo-yeon.
“Hello?”
– Yes, Writer Kim.
Ever since the incident at the pension, Soo-yeon had stopped calling him oppa and now addressed him formally as “Writer Kim,” expressing her hurt in the most obvious way possible.
“I heard a male idol asked for your number today.”
– Yes…
“If any male actor or idol bothers you again, tell me immediately.”
– Why? You’re going to send me to another company anyway.
“No, Soo-yeon. That’s not what I meant…”
Hearing her prickly tone, Si-woo realized she must be seriously upset.
It felt like dealing with a younger sister going through puberty.