“We have confirmed three authors who are available to work right now. Please take a look at this person’s resume as well.”
The resume Nam Yiwon handed over next was not significantly different from the first. It belonged to a rookie, whose only experience was producing a mini-series based on a script that had been selected as an outstanding work in a screenplay competition.
Even so, this wasn’t bad. Given the tight schedule and the need to write a story based on someone else’s synopsis, authors weren’t likely to be enthusiastic about the project. Seungjun had already anticipated working with someone relatively new. Since the entire story outline was already developed, it shouldn’t prove too difficult. Seungjun offered a positive response.
“Both of them seem fine. They both have mini-series experience, so let’s review them and decide. They’re both rookies, but if their writing isn’t up to par, they can simply revise it until it meets our standards.”
“There’s one more person. This one is an established author.”
The third resume was placed before him. This time, as soon as he saw the author’s name, he recognized them immediately, without even needing to check their credentials.
Author Bae Wonjeong. They had worked together once, and since then, they hadn’t exchanged a single message. The reason was…
“This author will refuse to work with me. We collaborated once, and it ended poorly.”
‘Ended poorly’ was a polite understatement. Not only had they argued throughout the entire project, but Author Bae Wonjeong hadn’t even participated in the wrap-up party, where all grudges typically dissipate after a long project. They had skipped it solely because they couldn’t stand the sight of Baek Seungjun.
Such a deep rift surely must have spread through the industry, yet it seemed Nam Yiwon hadn’t heard of it.
‘Wait. Or perhaps this bastard… knew all along?’
The very next moment, Nam Yiwon smirked, giving weight to Seungjun’s rational suspicion. He even shook his head afterward, feigning shock at such a suggestion.
“I did hear something, but it was from a long time ago, wasn’t it? The author called us directly after seeing the news, so don’t worry. When I mentioned we needed an author, they seemed quite eager to join.”
“Bae Wonjeong said they want to work with me? Don’t lie. You must have hounded them until they agreed, didn’t you?”
Author Bae Wonjeong was so utterly high-minded that they even skipped the wrap-up party over a mere few disagreements during the project. Afterward, they had gone around badmouthing Seungjun to anyone who would listen; the complaints that reached Seungjun’s ears alone were a pile. There was no way such a person would have readily agreed. They would surely know it was his story, and it was obvious how much they would argue again. Why would Bae Wonjeong want to touch it?
‘Ah.’ Seungjun, about to add another sharp remark, let out a small gasp. A sudden realization resolved all his doubts.
Author Bae Wonjeong wanted to work with Nam Yiwon.
Baek Seungjun was just a plus-one.
Seungjun, whose gaze had been idly wandering, now fixed his eyes on Nam Yiwon. His right hand, which had been casually resting on the desk, slowly tightened into a firm fist. Nam Yiwon, who had been tilting his head to look at Seungjun’s face, slowly curved his lips upward.
Two rookies, one established author. Setting aside personal feelings, there was no reason not to choose Author Bae Wonjeong. It was practically the same as having no choice at all, and the fact that Nam Yiwon had bothered to bring three resumes infuriated him. It was in the same vein as announcing their co-directorship in the news, giving interviews on famous channels, and then showing up at the broadcast station every day, ranting and raving, then spouting hypocritical nonsense about needing his ‘senior’s approval.’ Anyone who hadn’t experienced Nam Yiwon firsthand would probably think it’s paranoia, but those who had suffered under him, even once, would understand. Seungjun threw the resumes he was holding onto the desk and asked,
“The answer seems obvious, so why show me rookie authors’ resumes? What a waste of time.”
“There’s no predetermined answer. I’m simply offering you options.”
“If I say I want to work with a rookie, will you agree?”
“Yes.”
Nam Yiwon answered without batting an eye. His rounded eyebrows slowly arched, pushing up his forehead.
“I’ve often worked with rookies as long as the script is good. If Author Bae Wonjeong makes you too uncomfortable, a rookie author is perfectly fine.”
“No. What would I be uncomfortable about? It’s all business.”
Seungjun shrugged nonchalantly. A twitch played at the corner of his mouth as he forced a casual smile. “Really?” Nam Yiwon’s lips curved upward as he meticulously scrutinized Seungjun’s expression.
‘That fox-like bastard.’
Working in this industry, he had dealt with countless peculiar and strong-willed individuals, but none were as strange as Nam Yiwon. Unlike others, whose true colors usually emerged after a few encounters, he remained utterly unpredictable, both then and now. For instance, just when Seungjun suspected he’d included the rookie authors’ resumes as mere props to provoke him, the thought that if he *did* choose a rookie, Nam Yiwon would gladly follow that decision, grated on Seungjun’s nerves.
CP Jo Seonghyeon, whose expression had steadily worsened as the conversation dragged on, finally interjected.
“Is this really something that needs such a long discussion? Time is money; of course, we should go with an experienced author. If Author Bae Wonjeong agreed, just go with Bae Wonjeong.”
“Yes,” Seungjun replied reluctantly. Nam Yiwon was already infuriating enough, but to add Author Bae Wonjeong into the mix… His teeth gnashed, but he couldn’t deny that Author Bae Wonjeong was highly competent.
‘Time to work.’ Shaking off his irritation, he opened his laptop. Reflected on the screen, beside his own sullen face, he saw that annoyingly cheerful face. The mouse cursor hovered over the man’s forehead. Seungjun gripped the mouse tightly and roughly drew a circle, erasing the faint image.
Once he’d banished Nam Yiwon from his sight, the man began to buzz in his ears. ‘Senior,’ a soft voice caressed his cheek.
“We also need to change the drama title. We can’t call it
“Cut to the chase and tell me what you’ve thought of.”
Seungjun replied coldly, checking a document file. Just like he’d once teased him with absurd titles like ‘Hwihyeol’ or ‘Heuphyeol’, he’d probably throw out a few more ridiculous ones to provoke him. ‘This time, I won’t fall for it. I will not be swayed by any absurd suggestion.’
“Have you suffered an injustice?”
His hand, scrolling down the document, paused. His eyes, quickly scanning the listed words, settled on a single spot.
Nam Yiwon’s hand swept down Seungjun’s back, as if offering comfort. Goosebumps erupted along his spine, and his stomach churned. Seungjun, his face rigid, met Nam Yiwon’s gaze.
“…What?”
“Sentence-form titles are intuitive, not difficult, and they pique curiosity. It’s also good if it’s a line the protagonist often says in the drama.”
“……”
“What do you think?”
It took Seungjun a few seconds to realize they were discussing the drama title. Debating whether it was a good title or not came second. Instead of the silent Seungjun, Seonghyeon nodded.
“It sounds decent. What do you think, PD Baek?”
“Yes, well. It’s not bad.”
Seungjun spoke his honest thoughts. He couldn’t think of a better alternative, and a question-form title did indeed spark curiosity, so it wasn’t bad.
However…
“Smooth sailing, Senior?”
At the positive response, Nam Yiwon straightened his back, stood up, and smiled brightly. He neatly arranged the three resumes and reverently placed them on Seungjun’s desk.
‘Focus and get to work.’ He planned to finish the slightly incomplete parts of the script and then discuss the content with Nam Yiwon. He tried to divert his attention by replaying the order of tasks in his mind, but perhaps because of his lack of sleep, the content wouldn’t register. As he frowned, trying to concentrate, he heard Seonghyeon’s voice, subtly approaching Nam Yiwon and whispering.
“Director Nam. Didn’t you debut before PD Baek? Why do you keep calling him ‘Senior’?”
“Oh, you’re right, aren’t I? It must be a habit from university.”
“A habit? Were you closer than I thought?”
His resolve not to be swayed proved futile, as Seungjun couldn’t help but glance sideways. His eyes met Nam Yiwon’s, who happened to be looking at him. The man’s dark, crescent-shaped eyes rolled toward Seonghyeon.
“Rather than being close, I was unilaterally enamored with him.”
Seonghyeon, completely oblivious, burst out laughing, praising Nam Yiwon’s good nature. They faced each other, laughing congenially.
Seungjun turned his head back to his laptop, stifling a sigh. His own dark reflection on the screen looked pathetic.
Oscar Wilde, who once said to forgive your enemies, should have met Nam Yiwon.
****
– I didn’t want to say this, but PD Baek, you’re on the blacklist among authors.
Seungjun gripped his phone tighter, trying to suppress a scoff. He had anticipated that working with Author Bae Wonjeong wouldn’t be easy, but that was due to their mutually peculiar personalities. Even though they had argued quite intensely, he acknowledged that they were a competent author. He had believed that, which was why he had agreed to work with them. Yet…
“The rest of the Episode 1 script is fine. But a protagonist who was bullied? No. I don’t believe the protagonist should have a past as a victim.”
Suppressing his fury at the shoddy script, he squeezed out the most rational voice he could muster. When he had first printed out Author Bae Wonjeong’s revised Episode 1 script and settled into the lounge, he’d had the leisure to sip his coffee. However, from the moment the protagonist’s previously nonexistent backstory appeared, his nerves were so on edge that he didn’t need any caffeine.
– PD Baek Seungjun. Was Shin Eui-chan righteous from birth? Does he help wronged people for no reason? Of course, such people exist in reality, but a drama needs a catalyst. You need to make the viewers understand.
Seungjun openly sighed. One had to acknowledge this author’s stubbornness.
“Shin Eui-chan was bullied in high school, unfairly forced to transfer, and became a lawyer? Even if a catalyst is needed, isn’t that too complacent and convenient a storyline, Author?”
“What did you say?”