At the far end of a table, a familiar figure sat, resplendent in a flamboyant checkered suit, his hair neatly swept back, and a smile of unparalleled radiance gracing his lips.
“That’s rather problematic. Senior, you simply must do this drama with me.”
Nam Yiwon, who had been resting his chin on his hand, slowly lowered it and rose to his feet. As Seungjun watched him approach, the director’s recent tirade echoed in his ears—even the outrageous claim that other broadcast stations’ dramas had benefited from his own. Despite surely having overheard every blatant remark, including the insults directed at Seungjun, Nam Yiwon didn’t bat an eyelid. Far from appearing awkward or annoyed, he simply extended a hand to Seungjun, who was staring blankly at him.
“It’s been a while, Senior.”
He said it as if he had been eagerly awaiting this encounter, his tone full of warmth.
“The article—did you leak it?”
Instead of shaking his hand, Seungjun asked, his voice sharp. Just as he’d said, the face he hadn’t seen in a long time was utterly unchanged—his clear, youthful complexion, his flamboyant attire, and even that detestable, saccharine smile.
“The article simply came out first; I’m not sure where it leaked from. But then, I am quite well-known, aren’t I? You understand, don’t you?”
Nam Yiwon raised an eyebrow, seeking understanding, his expression innocent. ‘How could such an article have come out if he hadn’t leaked it to the reporter himself?’ Seungjun thought, scoffing at the transparent lie.
‘He’s not worth dealing with. Not then, not now.’
“Shall we step outside for a moment? It seems we have something to discuss privately.”
Just as Seungjun was about to avert his gaze from a face that grew more irritating with every glance, Nam Yiwon placed a hand on his shoulder. He calmly looked down at Seungjun, who was glaring at him, and led him toward the door. Seungjun reluctantly opened it, knowing there was no point in staying; he wouldn’t get through to the director.
From behind Seungjun, who was walking with palpable irritation, the director’s voice called out.
“Wait. Director Nam, weren’t you here to say something?”
‘Director Nam.’ Seungjun let out a mirthless laugh. The director’s obvious intention was to maintain a professional distance. She wouldn’t want to appear as an affectionate older sister in front of Seungjun, who had just accused her of favoritism toward her sibling.
What wasn’t so obvious was Nam Yiwon’s response. He glanced back at the director and replied familiarly.
“Ah, next time.”
“…Why did you come today?”
“I’ll visit soon, Sis. Come to think of it, I haven’t even given you a housewarming gift yet. Is there anything you want?”
“Let’s talk later.”
Unlike the director, who awkwardly averted her gaze, Nam Yiwon openly acted childishly toward his sister. Flaunting their close relationship with talk of housewarming gifts and the like was a clear sign that he didn’t care at all about what Seungjun had just said.
‘That insufferable bastard.’
‘Even without this, there was already a pile of writers eager to work with him. Yet, he had the audacity to use his sister’s influence to casually look through someone else’s synopsis and propose co-directing. He clearly had some ulterior motive. Not only was Seungjun’s work not to Nam Yiwon’s taste for melodramatic, outrageous dramas, but Nam Yiwon also had no particular reason to co-direct.’
‘Unless he just wanted to screw with me.’
His insides were boiling. Seungjun strode purposefully down the corridor, Nam Yiwon, with his long legs, easily keeping pace beside him, a cheerful smile still gracing his lips.
“Shall we move to a cafe?”
“Do you have something to say? Say it here.”
“There’s a good cafe nearby. How about we grab a coffee?”
“Are we truly on terms to sit across from each other and drink coffee?”
Unable to bear it any longer, Seungjun stopped and spun around. He couldn’t fathom why Nam Yiwon was being so relentlessly persistent. Even characters in a drama have their own personalities and values, making their actions understandable, yet every time Nam Yiwon opened his mouth, he uttered only incomprehensible things.
Nam Yiwon pursed his lips slightly, then rolled his eyes.
“Were we truly not on terms to even drink coffee? I believe we once shared a cup, if memory serves.”
“Is this amusing to you?”
As Seungjun asked through gritted teeth, Nam Yiwon furrowed his brow. He asked, feigning surprise.
“Surely, you’re not considering not doing it with me?”
“What’s your scheme?”
“I want to do a drama with you, Senior.”
“I don’t care if you run around the broadcasting station like it’s your neighborhood playground, but my work is off-limits.”
“Indeed, I do rather enjoy my work as if it were play.”
Nam Yiwon merely smiled cheerfully, hearing only what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t that he was cluelessly overly positive; he knew everything but simply didn’t care. To him, how others approached their work, or what they wanted to show, was none of his concern.
“Your playful attitude in everything also dismays me. Even if the director commands it, I will absolutely not do it, so don’t waste your effort.”
“But Senior, it really has been a long time since we last met.”
Nam Yiwon, who had been walking with his hands clasped behind his back, suddenly grabbed Seungjun’s arm. As he leaned in, his clear eyes were visible. Some might consider them intelligent, but Seungjun thought differently. They were the eyes of someone who, throughout life, might cause stress to others but never experienced it themselves. Standing opposite Seungjun, he meticulously scrutinized him from his face to his attire.
“Have you been well? I should have greeted you sooner.”
“You don’t even know my contact information, so cut the ridiculous pleasantries.”
“Haha. Given that I’ve read the script you’ve been meticulously working on for years, is finding your contact information really such a big deal? And your back was just the same as before, wasn’t it?”
Seungjun pushed away Nam Yiwon, who had invaded his personal space, and gritted his teeth. ‘The script I’d been meticulously working on for years?’ he thought. ‘Did the director mention that earlier? Or had he been observing the entire process of me continuously revising my synopsis and seeking the director’s feedback? Since when?’
‘This deranged bastard.’
“What’s your scheme? Why do you want to do a drama with me? Honestly, the story I wrote isn’t your style, is it?”
“Did my sister’s words hit you hard, Senior? You’re even resorting to self-deprecation now.”
“It’s not that my work is bad, it’s that your style and mine simply don’t match.”
“Senior, it *is* my style.”
“Stop playing with words. I’m not in the mood to joke around with you right now.”
“I’m not joking. The story you wrote—I genuinely want to refine it with you and a writer to make it truly interesting.”
“A writer?” Seungjun felt a throbbing sensation at the back of his neck and asked through gritted teeth.
“I haven’t even agreed to anything, and you’ve already scouted a writer?”
“No. Shall I scout one?”
“…”
“If you want, I can scout a writer. I’m just telling you that option exists, since you seem to distrust me so much.”
“Ha.” A sigh escaped him. He was so dumbfounded that his anger momentarily dissipated. His body relaxed, his eyelids grew heavy, and his mouth fell open slightly. Nam Yiwon’s persistent gaze lingered on his cheek. He tried to persuade him in a soft voice.
“Do it with me. You’ve prepared this story for so long; you want people to see it, don’t you?”
A story prepared for so long.
The days he had passionately researched in his spare time while working on other projects, the countless times he had sought out the director and professors to show them his fiercely revised synopsis. The story he would pull out while editing through the night whenever he needed a breath of fresh air. A story he had read so many times he knew it by heart, holding onto it so tenaciously. Nam Yiwon wouldn’t understand what that story meant to him, not even if he died and came back to life.
Seungjun lifted his heavy eyelids. Then, meeting Nam Yiwon’s eyes, which were still fixed on him, he said, “You’ll just tear it all apart and rework it, won’t you? If so, will it truly still be *my* story?”
No sooner had he finished speaking than Nam Yiwon smiled. The younger man’s pristine cheeks slowly flushed with an emotion Seungjun couldn’t discern—perhaps anticipation, perhaps excitement. He stretched his lips into a wide grin and replied, “You haven’t changed at all, Senior.”
“Disappointed? Good.”
“Drama is a collaboration. If you wanted to do it alone, you’d write a novel. You know all this.”
“I won’t collaborate even with you.”
“Why? Are you afraid of an illogical ending?”
Seungjun didn’t answer, instead taking a step forward, and Nam Yiwon lightly followed. He rolled his eyes, as if deep in thought, and asked again.
“Or do you feel it’s unfair that I’m using my connections to make this offer to you? Or do you just dislike all co-directing in general?”
“…”
“What are you so afraid of?”
‘Afraid?’ The absurd question made Seungjun laugh. When he turned back, a slight smirk playing on his lips, Nam Yiwon, who had been waiting to meet his gaze, eagerly locked eyes with him. Seungjun rarely lost his temper outside of work, but in the few minutes he’d spent in the same space as this guy, his emotions had been thrown into a tumultuous dance. Seungjun took a decisive step closer and uttered in a low voice,
“You’re like a piece of shit to me. Do you think I’d be scared and run away from shit?”
Nam Yiwon seemed surprised by the blunt remark, blinking blankly before his lips twitched. His cheeks, which had been trying to suppress a smile, slowly settled. He let out a small, mirthless laugh and muttered to himself, “Ah… Senior, you’re really amusing.”
That was enough. Disinclined to exchange any more words, Seungjun turned his back. From behind him, as he quickly walked away, Nam Yiwon called out,
“I’ll give you more time, so think about it slowly!”
‘I’ll come again.’ A brief addition to his words. His voice was leisurely, as if he knew Seungjun’s mind would change once he calmed down and thought carefully. As if he had nothing to regret, and nothing to rush.
Seungjun clenched his teeth and strode away.
****
“Hey. Why aren’t you doing it? I’d do it.”
“If you don’t do it, I will.”
“What if it’s a bit over-the-top? He’s had three consecutive hits.”
“Aren’t you going to the South Pole if you don’t do this anyway?”
Seungjun absently let the barrage of words wash over him, then ran a hand over his face. PD Kim Yuna, PD Lee Seonggyu, and Assistant Director Yoo Junseong, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, surrounded him, each offering their two cents. PD Gu Wonho, who always knew Seungjun’s smoking spot, also joined late, making the most ruckus upon his arrival.