“Jaeun contacted us, saying he’s fine with the secretary role. Actress Moonboyeon also immediately agreed.”
“Actress Moonboyeon too? That’s good.”
“I have one question.”
Nam Yiwon continued, elegantly gesturing with the fork in his hand.
“You personally auditioned, stating you wanted to cast rookie actors as the protagonists for each episode so viewers could see them without prejudice. So, why do you insist on including Actress Moonboyeon, who has had past controversies regarding her character?”
His eyes, previously fixed on his food, now turned to Seungjun. Meeting those curious eyes, Seungjun could clearly see what the man was thinking.
‘He must be wondering if I’m trying to cast Actress Moonboyeon out of some misplaced sense of justice.’ Since it was a reasonable assumption, Seungjun felt it best to answer honestly. He picked at the appetizer, whose name he had already forgotten, and replied.
“There weren’t any rookie actors I particularly liked,” Seungjun explained. “Besides, I wrote the character with Moonboyeon’s image in mind from the start, so I thought it would be fine.”
“I see.”
“And since we’re being frank, it’s not uncommon for actors to demand more screen time, leading to huge fights with writers and directors who refuse. That shouldn’t be enough to cut off work entirely.”
“I’ve even had my collar grabbed during arguments.”
Nam Yiwon smiled at Seungjun’s quiet addition. Given Seungjun’s long history of fierce battles, he likely knew the rumors even if Seungjun hadn’t mentioned it himself.
As expected, the man wore a cocky smirk, his lips curving upwards.
“It’s surprising to hear that from someone who constantly dismisses actors as ‘mere performers,’ isn’t it?”
“‘That’s one thing, and this is another! Is my personal annoyance the same as a collective boycott?”
“You seem like the type to lead a boycott, though.”
Seungjun pretended not to hear the subtly provocative remark. ‘Think what you want,’ he thought. ‘What do I gain by impressing you?’
Ignoring him, Seungjun changed the subject.
“Anyway, we got word that Actor Oh Munseong will likely be difficult for the role of Shin Eui-chan. And there’s still no word from Actor Jo Seokhwan for the prosecutor general role.”
“Should we contact other actors, then?”
Seungjun frowned, clearly displeased. While he hadn’t expected casting to be smooth, the pool of available talent was narrower than he’d anticipated.
He truly didn’t want to compromise on the casting for the lead role of lawyer Shin Eui-chan and the prosecutor general.
“Ugh, I don’t like any of the actors whose schedules align right now. I particularly want Actor Jo Seokhwan for the prosecutor general; he’s perfect for it.”
“When I first envisioned the character, I imagined a gentle impression, much like Actor Jo Seokhwan.”
“Well, then, let’s try to persuade him.”
No contact so far was tantamount to a refusal, yet Nam Yiwon remained inexplicably relaxed. Seungjun worried he might suddenly bring in another unsuitable actor.
Seungjun quickly emptied his entree plate. The foie gras, a first for him, wasn’t quite to his taste, but it wasn’t bad either.
“Oh Munseong seemed to decline because he found the lawyer role too difficult. He really struggles with memorizing lines.”
“He’s well-known for that. I heard everyone suffered when he played a doctor last time because he couldn’t remember his dialogue.”
“Still, he acts well, and his neat appearance means he doesn’t stand out too much. It’s hard to find another actor of his caliber.”
“True. Among the available actors, he’s also the highest-ranking.”
Even as their conversation continued, Seungjun consistently scanned their surroundings. The restaurant, which had been quiet when they arrived, remained utterly deserted at this hour.
It seemed even the couple who had been at the other table earlier had left.
‘A restaurant in Sinsa-dong this empty during the busiest lunch hour? It’s strange, no matter how I think about it.’
‘They’re not going to charge hundreds of thousands of won for that entree I just ate, are they?’
Just then, Nam Yiwon set down his fork. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he looked over Seungjun’s shoulder.
“Ah, perfect timing, he’s here.”
‘Who’s here?’ Following Nam Yiwon’s gaze, Seungjun spun around, startled, and gripped the edge of his chair.
Actor Jo Seokhwan, the very subject of their recent conversation, was walking in.
‘Such an absurd coincidence couldn’t possibly exist.’ Seungjun, dumbfounded, asked, “Did you call him?”
“Of course not. Shall we go persuade him ourselves, since he’s here?”
Without further explanation, Nam Yiwon immediately rose from his seat. “Hey, hey!”
Seungjun quickly wiped his mouth and hurried after him.
Jo Seokhwan sat at an empty table, engrossed in his phone. Since he showed no sign of ordering, it seemed he was waiting for someone.
Seungjun felt it was rude to approach his table so abruptly when he was clearly there for a meal, but Nam Yiwon didn’t slow his pace.
He steadily closed the distance until Jo Seokhwan finally looked up.
Noticing them, Jo Seokhwan frowned. As Seungjun licked his lips, feeling he ought to say something immediately, Nam Yiwon turned to him.
Seungjun was annoyed that the man had led the way only to push the actual talking onto him, but this was no time for such leisurely thoughts.
Seungjun bowed respectfully and greeted him.
“Actor Jo Seokhwan? Hello, I’m Producer Baek Seungjun from HBN. We sent you a drama script a while ago. What a coincidence to meet you here.”
“I have a lunch appointment. Discuss work through my agency.”
Jo Seokhwan openly showed his displeasure, clicking his tongue in annoyance. As Seungjun pondered how to broach the subject, Jo Seokhwan’s phone rang.
He gestured for them to leave and then answered the call.
Taking advantage of Jo Seokhwan’s phone call, Seungjun whispered to Nam Yiwon.
“This feels a bit rude, what should we do?”
“Are you going to back down now? I guess you weren’t that desperate after all?”
Nam Yiwon whispered back, his eyes curving into a smirk. Seungjun was glaring at the infuriating man, who spoke so casually about a project that was also his own.
Just then, Jo Seokhwan’s voice boomed from his phone, “What? You can’t make it? What kind of ridiculous situation is this?”
They inadvertently witnessed Jo Seokhwan being stood up. Even in that awkward moment, Seungjun’s gaze was drawn to Jo Seokhwan’s face, which was flushing crimson.
The sight of an actor known for his elegant and refined image displaying such unbridled anger left a profound impression.
He was absolutely perfect for the prosecutor general role, which required subtly conveying a certain ruthlessness hidden beneath a suave charisma. There was no more suitable actor.
Seungjun carefully pondered how best to persuade Jo Seokhwan. He knew Jo Seokhwan was the type of actor who took immense pride in his work rather than chasing popularity.
He needed to choose his words carefully, finding an angle that would make Jo Seokhwan feel drawn to *Unjust*.
“It seems you’ve been stood up, after all? Would you care to join us?”
Nam Yiwon blurted out, without any prior consultation. It was utter nonsense that instantly demolished all of Seungjun’s carefully considered efforts.
‘I’ve never seen such an inconsiderate lunatic.’ Before Seungjun could stop him, Jo Seokhwan shot up from his seat.
He raised his phone, demanding, “Hey, Director Nam. You set this up, didn’t you?”
A murderous glare, a pointing finger, and on top of that, an immediate shift to informal speech. Seungjun’s eyes widened as he looked between them.
Jo Seokhwan’s attitude towards Nam Yiwon was filled with utter contempt. There were old, festering emotions between them that Seungjun knew nothing about. He wouldn’t explode like this over just one slightly arrogant remark.
‘Did Nam Yiwon really arrange for someone else to stand Jo Seokhwan up, bringing him here in the process?’
It was highly plausible to doubt the absurd coincidence of Jo Seokhwan just happening to show up at their restaurant. ‘This can’t be a coincidence.’
Nam Yiwon was certainly capable of such a thoughtless maneuver.
Jo Seokhwan didn’t stop there. He strode forward, glaring fiercely up at Nam Yiwon.
“Didn’t I tell you I’d never work with you again? Endless last-minute scripts, constant plot changes, reshooting scenes we’d already filmed.”
“I wouldn’t work with you for a fortune. Understand?”
It was true; Actor Jo Seokhwan had appeared in one of Nam Yiwon’s previous works. It seemed the conclusion hadn’t been favorable, so why hadn’t Nam Yiwon mentioned it earlier?
Seungjun stifled a laugh. After constantly hearing, to his exasperation, that no one could refuse Nam Yiwon, seeing him rejected so bluntly to his face brought a secret sense of satisfaction.
‘Wait, this is no time to be amused.’ Seungjun quickly composed himself and tried to persuade Jo Seokhwan.
“This time, I’m co-directing, so there won’t be any issues like that. I’ve written the script over several years, so the entire story is complete.”
“And since it’s planned for semi-pre-production, it won’t be handled in that manner.”
“You killed off a perfectly fine character with a sudden car accident in your last drama, and you have the nerve to send me a script? Do you think I don’t know you, Director Nam, ordered me killed off?”
“I was so dumbfounded back then, I even went to find the writer, you bastard!”
Jo Seokhwan completely ignored Seungjun’s words and shouted. ‘He killed off a character because he didn’t like the actor?’
At this shocking revelation, Seungjun glared at Nam Yiwon. It was a clear demand for an immediate explanation and apology, but Nam Yiwon showed not an ounce of remorse.
“There were constant clashes on set due to last-minute scripts, so I thought you seemed quite stressed and sent you off early.”
“Hey, you! Will you shut up?”
Seungjun quickly darted forward and clapped a hand over Nam Yiwon’s mouth. He silently cursed the man with his eyes, who was grinning down at him, then warned him through gritted teeth to stay quiet.
He felt Nam Yiwon’s lips curve into a smile beneath his palm. What on earth was so funny that he was smirking?
Once Nam Yiwon was silenced, Seungjun turned back to face Jo Seokhwan. Honesty was the best approach now. He adopted a polite yet serious demeanor.
“I am Producer Baek Seungjun of HBN. I’m confident in this drama; I’ve been researching and planning it for years. Have you perhaps read the script?”
“Why would I read it? I’m not doing it.”
The prosecutor general was a character whose image had been firmly established from the very beginning of the story’s conception. Seungjun effortlessly continued to speak.