I was the only one considering artistic merit here. Seungjun adamantly shook his head.
“Absolutely not. A lawyer is absolutely out of the question. I said no, didn’t I? No.”
“Hmm… then should we create a suitable role for them?”
As Nam Yiwon emphasized “No” three times in a row, he proposed an alternative. While Seungjun felt subtly relieved that Nam Yiwon seemed to have backed down a bit, he was dumbfounded by his own relief over such a trivial matter.
After being tormented by countless absurd suggestions, he found himself thinking, ‘This is practically civil behavior by now.’
Seungjun sighed and asked,
“Create a role out of nowhere? Why do we have to go to such lengths just for this casting?”
“It’s not hard to create a role that doesn’t require much acting skill, is it?”
Huh?
He had definitely heard that before. Tracing back the context, he quickly recalled where he’d heard it.
It was what that bastard had said when they argued about Kim Doyun in the parking lot. What had they talked about before Seungjun threw a punch in that parking lot?
Seungjun had asked about Kim Doyun, and Nam Yiwon had prattled on about wanting to give him a more significant role than a bit part, even if it meant creating one.
Could it be that he wasn’t talking about Kim Doyun, but Jaeun? Had he just been messing around with Kim Doyun, and the actual deal was with Jaeun? Given what a scummy guy he was, even such a suspicion felt rational.
‘How did I end up entangled with such a piece of trash?’
Seungjun forced himself to find a compromise.
“Then, rather than getting rid of the secretary role, just give it to him. As a role where he just stands pretty by the side.”
“Hmm? If it’s a secretary, they’ll appear in every episode, so that’s even better. A role like eye candy would be perfect.”
Nam Yiwon instantly nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. That bastard, could this have been his plan all along? He was an incredibly skilled negotiator.
It was similar to throwing out an offer of selling a 10,000 won item for 100,000 won, then pretending to give a 50,000 won discount to make a profit.
“But would actor Jaeun want to play a secretary? It’s not even a supporting role.”
As Lee Heeseung interjected, Author Bae Wonjeong nodded. Nam Yiwon smiled arrogantly, as if such a question was beneath him.
“I’m sure he will.”
‘What actor would refuse to be in my drama? I’ve never seen one.’ His unspoken thoughts seemed to echo in the room.
“I’ll make the secretary role appealing, so don’t worry about it and just focus on the rest of the script. Shall we move on to the next topic then?”
He probably meant to just wing the minor supporting roles with impromptu script pages as they went along. Seungjun gritted his teeth and endured.
He had to concede this much for progress to be made. Even so, after reviewing auditions all night and discussing with the staff, there was something he wanted to bring up in the casting meeting.
Seungjun raised his hand, capturing everyone’s attention, then opened his mouth.
“I’ve seen many actors in the auditions, but I haven’t found anyone suitable for the lead role in the second episode. What if we go with the actor I had in mind?”
“Who?”
“Actor Moonboyeon.”
The expected reaction immediately followed. Author Bae Wonjeong openly questioned it, clearly flustered.
“Actor Moonboyeon? Why insist on using an actor who had a controversy?”
“She’s a great actress, has excellent diction, and her image is perfect. I actually wrote the script with her in mind.”
Moonboyeon was a highly skilled actress, possessing the exact looks and voice Seungjun desired. If she was willing to act, her schedule would surely be manageable.
CP Jo Seonghyeon, who had been listening with his arms crossed, sighed. He expressed a negative opinion even more explicitly than Author Bae Wonjeong.
“Why bring back an actor who was blacklisted from this industry due to a power abuse controversy? Moonboyeon hasn’t acted in at least five years.”
“It’s common for directors and actors to have huge fights; it wasn’t exactly power abuse. She’s a good actress, isn’t she?”
“Hey, didn’t you hear the recording back then? Director Kim must be at least twenty years older than her; did you hear how she spoke?”
“Director Kim is also famous for his verbal abuse, so it must have been a two-way street. It became a big deal because image is crucial for actors.”
“Even so, there’s the ‘resentment factor.’ No director has wanted to use Moonboyeon since then.”
A film set, involving directors, actors, and even writers, was always a battlefield. It was a place where people vied for their own interests and tried to push their intentions through.
Arguments and psychological warfare were standard, and physical altercations were common, but in Moonboyeon’s case, the leaked recording had caused significant damage.
Initially, Moonboyeon had a good reputation before working with Director Kim, and even the recording file, when listened to directly, was difficult to brand as one-sided power abuse.
Most people who truly engaged in power abuse were doing just fine, so it felt unfair for her to be blacklisted from the industry just for a verbal spat.
Of course, that wasn’t the sole reason he was determined to cast her. A major factor was that no other actor had stood out during the auditions.
“I want to use her. If you have any other actors to recommend, please do.”
He would always welcome alternatives he hadn’t considered. As silence fell, with no one offering an alternative, Nam Yiwon, who had been quiet, spoke up.
“Then, should we at least try contacting actor Moonboyeon? I think it might be fine.”
The man Seungjun expected to ask if he was crazy had said something unexpected. The writer and CP seemed less than pleased, but when Nam Yiwon gave his approval, they reluctantly agreed.
Seungjun snorted inwardly, scribbling the meeting details into his notebook.
“Then, let’s move on to the Prosecutor General role.”
At Nam Yiwon’s words, the screen changed, displaying photos of five new actors. Scanning them carefully, all but one were actors who had been discussed beforehand.
As Seungjun looked at the actor he liked best among them, Nam Yiwon unexpectedly zoomed in on a thirty-something actor at the very end.
“Isn’t this actor good?”
“Director Nam? We don’t have time for this right now?”
While a lawyer could be anyone, a Prosecutor General, the true power behind corrupt authority, had to be at least in their fifties. As Seungjun forced a smile and even squeezed out honorifics, Nam Yiwon quickly zoomed out.
His face was flushed and brimming with energy, as if he was absolutely thrilled. ‘What a pervert.’
The effort he put into inserting a photo of an actor he had no intention of casting, just to zoom in and provoke others, was remarkable.
If Seungjun hesitated, Nam Yiwon would open his mouth again. Seungjun quickly chose the actor he wanted.
“I think actor Jo Seokhwan would be a good fit.”
“Isn’t his image too good for a villain? He mainly plays victims or struggling breadwinners.”
Author Bae Wonjeong tilted her head. Seungjun smiled at the expected reaction.
Even actor Jo Seokhwan, who had always played virtuous roles, possessed a chilling side to his face. The Prosecutor General Seungjun envisioned also had such an image.
A man with a likable, seemingly generous demeanor, yet not one to be trifled with; rotten to the core and despicable, but intelligent enough not to reveal it outwardly. Jo Seokhwan was the perfect actor for that role.
“That’s precisely why he’s good. A role opposite to his usual image could create an even more powerful impression.”
“Hmm… when you put it that way, it does sound promising.”
With the writer and CP in agreement, there was nothing more to discuss. As they talked about contacting Jo Seokhwan as their top choice, Nam Yiwon, who had been silently observing, spoke up indifferently.
“I don’t recommend him.”
To say “I don’t recommend him” out of nowhere, without even giving a reason? Seungjun snorted at the childish remark.
He liked the actor, but now, out of sheer stubbornness, he was even more determined to cast Jo Seokhwan. No, it was even better that the bastard disliked him.
‘Whether it was
“I like him. Looking at the actors available now, there are no other options. It has to be Jo Seokhwan.”
“If you’re so set on it, then… let’s try contacting him.”
Nam Yiwon shrugged, as if he couldn’t help it. Seeing his unusually displeased face made Seungjun feel good.
He would cast Jo Seokhwan no matter what. Seungjun gazed at Jo Seokhwan’s photo, his resolve burning bright.
****
It had been a long time since he’d eaten out. Seungjun stared blankly out the car window, lost in thought.
Along the wide Garosu-gil, green trees and unique shops lined the street, which buzzed with more leisure-seekers than office workers.
To come all the way to Sinsa-dong for a meal was unusual. He usually ate at the company cafeteria, and his occasional outings were limited to his regular spots near the broadcasting station, so he rarely came to this neighborhood.
Nam Yiwon’s stiff smile, when Seungjun had asked why they couldn’t just eat at the cafeteria, now brought a hollow laugh to his lips. ‘Of course, it wouldn’t suit his taste.’
He wondered what this young master, who dined out every day, would choose. The man hadn’t asked what Seungjun wanted to eat, but rather if there was anything he *couldn’t* eat.
Involuntarily, Seungjun’s expectations had risen.
“Here we are.”
Nam Yiwon gently turned the steering wheel, looking outside. Seungjun craned his neck to check the signboard, his brow furrowing.
The Korean text was small beneath the French, making it hard to read, but it was a restaurant named “Chateau something-or-other.” Whatever it was, the atmosphere suggested it would charge ten times what Seungjun usually spent on a single meal.
‘I just eat anything to fill my stomach. Places like this are for dates, for setting a mood with a lover. Why did this bastard want to eat here?’
‘Come to think of it, hospital bills were due soon. I don’t know. Future me will earn it and cover it, I guess.’
As Seungjun got out of the car, Nam Yiwon, who had been waiting, fell in step beside him.
“Is French cuisine okay?”
“Uh.”
‘It’s too luxurious to eat with you.’
But he couldn’t say that, not after coming all this way. For Nam Yiwon, this probably wouldn’t even count as a luxury.