Unlike his own skin, which had reddened, peeled, and then returned to its original color, Heeseung’s skin was not merely tanned dark, but had burned to a fiery red. Some people’s skin turns red in the sun and slowly recovers, while others simply burn dark from the start. Heeseung was the latter. Despite slathering sunscreen all over her body, it seemed the direct sunlight pouring down from the cloudless sky had been unavoidable.
Seungjun swallowed a sigh. The Antarctic cold, too, would inevitably leave its mark, somehow penetrating even the thickest padding. He averted his gaze from Heeseung’s sun-damaged face and replied,
“Why.”
“PD Kwak is looking for you.”
“Alright. You can go for today. Let’s talk soon.”
“I’m free right now, though.”
“Go. You were up all night yesterday, weren’t you?”
“I’m not tired.”
“I won’t say it again.”
Heeseung reluctantly closed her mouth. She seemed to have more to say, but he didn’t want to stress her out any further today. Ignoring her upward gaze, Seungjun turned away. He had a mountain of work to do.
****
Blinking his eyes to shake off the lingering sleepiness, Seungjun slowly sat up. Bright sunlight illuminated the blinds. He glanced at the time, letting out a long groan. It was well past noon.
He had worked until dawn last night, only just managing to glimpse his home before collapsing. Perhaps it was because he’d downed half a bottle of soju and passed out, but he’d enjoyed over six hours of deep sleep for the first time in ages. He usually avoided alcohol entirely when managing a project, given the multitude of things to worry about, so this was his first drink in a long while. His entire body felt sluggish.
He should have rested after finishing the desert documentary edit, but his desire to create a truly good drama this time had driven him to tirelessly seek out opportunities, contact known writers, and even revise his own script to present to the director. The repercussions of his relentless work, fueled by his resolute will to make a drama, seemed to be slowly catching up to him.
His recent new source of stress probably wasn’t helping either.
‘Don’t think about it.’ Shaking off the face that came to mind, Seungjun reached for his phone. Lately, checking his messages was the first thing he did upon waking. He had been diligently making his case to everyone around him, so there might be some good news about a drama. While he had said he would go to Antarctica if it came to that, he had merely been trying to express his firm conviction; in truth, he had no intention of doing so.
He yearned to make a drama. He wanted to feel that exhilaration again. He desired to imbue every corner of the screen with his intentions, creating vibrant stories. He wished to deliver narratives that would move everyone. And he wanted to tell himself,
‘I can do it too.’
Though his face hadn’t burned as severely as Heeseung’s, the desert had left its mark on Seungjun nonetheless.
Seungjun, idly scrolling through his accumulated messages, frowned. The moment he checked a message from an unsaved number, a sigh escaped him involuntarily. Irritation flared, instantly dispelling his lingering drowsiness.
[It’s Nam Yiwon.]
[You didn’t answer my call, so I’m leaving a message.^^]
[Is there anything you want to eat?]
[I’ll bring it for lunch today lol]
[10:02 AM]
“He’s coming again today? Is this bastard out of his mind?”
Despite not even having his own assigned desk, Nam Yiwon showed up every single day, making a nuisance of himself. He would arrive impeccably dressed, though he had no specific business, simply to announce his presence. Just thinking about what he might wear today to upset him already gave Seungjun a headache. Seungjun glared at the obnoxious ‘^^’ at the end of the message before tossing his phone onto the bed.
The thought of having to deal with Nam Yiwon again today ruined his appetite, so he skipped lunch. On his way, Seungjun bought a cup of coffee, parked his car in the broadcasting station’s lot, and slowly savored it. The cafe owner had enthusiastically explained something about the day’s special beans, but he couldn’t recall what. He usually drank coffee to stay awake for late-night work or, like today, to simply fill his stomach, so he wasn’t particularly interested in the taste. Nevertheless, enjoying a quiet cup alone wasn’t bad.
Only after finishing his coffee in one spot did Seungjun finally set off. The fleeting happiness he had enjoyed was destined to evaporate the moment he reached his desk.
Determined to ignore everyone he might encounter until he reached his desk, Seungjun quickened his pace. Even as he strode forward, looking straight ahead and clearly signaling his disinclination for idle chatter, someone inevitably called out to him. From the far end of the corridor, Gu Wonho was rapidly approaching with quick steps.
“PD Baek, you look rather sharp today, don’t you? Do you have a date or something?”
Ignoring Gu Wonho, who was grinning as he spoke, Seungjun continued to walk, looking straight ahead. Gu Wonho prattled on, undeterred.
“So, what happened? Did you agree to it? You did, right? Huh?”
“……”
“If you don’t, you’re an idiot, you know? Getting a hit drama nowadays is like plucking a star from the sky.”
“……”
“Hm? Are you going to do it?”
Seungjun, who had been lengthening his strides, hoping Gu Wonho would give up and leave him alone, slowed his pace only when he reached the end of the corridor. Beyond the corner, a familiar voice drifted to him.
“Please persuade PD Baek. I really want to work with him.”
Seungjun stopped dead in his tracks, his senses suddenly alert. The firm voice, making a request yet entirely devoid of flattery, belonged to someone he worked with every day.
‘Lee Heeseung.’
At a time when rumors were openly circulating that Nam Yiwon had offered him a co-directing position, it wasn’t difficult to deduce who Heeseung wanted to work with. A single overheard sentence was enough to understand the preceding conversation. Seungjun took half a step, peering around the corner. The scene he had anticipated unfolded before his eyes.
“I’d like to work together too. Heeseung, please put in a good word for me with Senior Seungjun.”
Nam Yiwon’s smooth voice was tinged with amusement. Above Heeseung’s long ponytail, his clear face was visible. Slicked-back hair, a black suit, and an orange long coat. The one and only person who would appear dressed like that at a broadcasting station where he didn’t even have his own desk.
Heeseung was asking him for a favor: to persuade PD Baek Seungjun.
“Oh dear, how awkward… I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything.”
Gu Wonho, catching a glimpse of Seungjun, quickly scurried away. Seungjun watched them, feeling heat rise in his neck. As if he had sensed his presence, Nam Yiwon looked up. It seemed he had looked in his direction, their eyes briefly meeting, but his attention quickly returned to the top of Heeseung’s head, who was considerably shorter than him. Heeseung continued speaking, composedly.
“PD Baek is uncompromising in his work, so he’s negative about it for now, but he knows in his head that it’s a good opportunity.”
“If one truly desires to make dramas, it’s the only opportunity, beyond good or bad. It seems he might switch entirely to documentaries. If that happens, will you go with him, Heeseung?”
Seungjun bit his lip, holding his breath. His muscles, from his shoulders to his fists, were tensed, aching with strain.
It wasn’t surprising for Nam Yiwon to spout such nonsense, but for Heeseung, whom he thought he knew well, to seek out Nam Yiwon without a word to him? A hollow laugh escaped him. Heeseung was the one who had worked under him, tirelessly striving for perfection and pushing everyone around her, yet she was also the most diligent and passionate. Even when ratings weren’t great, she’d been satisfied with the painstakingly crafted results and would even gruffly offer him words of comfort. Yet, she was doing something he never would have expected her to do. Heeseung didn’t stop there; she continued.
“I really want to work with Director Nam Yiwon this time. If you can persuade PD Baek well, without hurting his pride, he will eventually agree. He truly loves dramas, you see.”
His clenched jaw throbbed. Heeseung speaking of his pride in front of Nam Yiwon infuriated him, making heat surge through him. Nam Yiwon must surely know by now that Lee Heeseung was his longest-serving assistant director, yet she was treating Seungjun as an idiot who would throw away a good opportunity purely out of pride.
How could someone who had worked countless nights with him, who had witnessed firsthand his dedication to his craft, say such a thing?
‘How much must Nam Yiwon be laughing at me?’
‘This is what truly hurts my pride. Not being offered a co-directing position.’
“I’ll be counting on you.”
Heeseung bowed to Nam Yiwon and swiftly walked away. After watching her retreating back for a moment, Seungjun also turned around. He had half-expected Nam Yiwon to call out to him, but no voice stopped him, even as he moved far away.
‘Had I imagined our eyes meeting?’ Seungjun searched his pocket for a cigarette and headed towards the smoking area.
When he returned to his desk after chain-smoking, Nam Yiwon was, predictably, sitting there. It was an anticipated sight, but Nam Yiwon, as always, wasn’t content with just a single act. Seungjun saw a bouquet of bright red roses on his desk.
“You’re a bit late, Senior.”
The red roses were so garish they hurt his eyes just to look at them. He glared at the ostentatious bouquet, the kind one wouldn’t even give to a lover, then subtly looked up at Nam Yiwon. Nam Yiwon’s eyes curved gently, and he clasped his hands demurely.
What bothered Seungjun most was the man’s perpetually playful attitude. If Nam Yiwon were truly serious about creating a proper drama, there would be no reason not to work with him. The problem was his conduct: instead of showing proper respect as someone proposing a collaboration, he acted as if he’d merely stumbled upon an amusing diversion.