Jegal Rok eventually picked up his phone and contacted Manager Ma.
—Yes. I’m answering the phone. I can’t even get off work... To a Manager Ma who’s drowning in work... at least tell sothing fun~.
“This is Jegal Rok.”
—Hey, can we maybe skip the greeting? It all shows up on the screen anyway, so why do you insist on greeting every single ti?
“I’ve decided the broadcaster for . And the male lead as well.”
From the other end of the line, the sound of Manager Ma—who’d been playfully grumbling—sucking in a sharp breath could be heard.
Even though the work hadn’t progressed yet, it seed she’d been thinking about on her own; plans poured out one after another.
—This is going to be so, so, so fun. My heart’s seriously pounding. First, target demographic analysis? No need to deliberate at all. We lock in teenage and twenty-sothing won by default! It’s Han Yeoreum!
Without a mont to breathe, Manager Ma went on and on about . Jegal Rok briefly pulled the phone away from his ear. Even with the volu set to minimum, the other end was loud.
—Ah, I already want to make all the posters in one go. Should we just release the making-ofs and interviews weekly? That kind of thing’s great, you know. Gives a sense of communicating with viewers. Should we set our ratings-achievent pledge pretty aggressively? How much budget can you free up for this? I’d really like the Head Office Director to spend big.
“Yes. As much as you want.”
—This is why I can’t leave you, Head Office Director. You make work fun. Where else would I ever find a boss like this!
“And please send over the final version of the Blu-ray funding page. That’s all.”
Before Manager Ma’s cheers could co through the receiver, Jegal Rok pressed the call-end button.
Then he ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) shifted his stiff gaze for a mont toward the wide window behind him. Because of frequent late nights, his eyes felt dry again today.
Knock, knock—.
From beyond, the sound of soone knocking on the door ca through. It was the coffee Jegal Rok had asked for. Through the gently opened gap in the door, the warm scent of coffee flowed in. Regardless of the ti, Jegal Rok once again let caffeine settle on his tongue.
Bzz— bzz— bzz— bzz—.
[Manager Ma: Sent it over right now lol Please check quickly and give feedback]
[Manager Ma: This is, truly and sincerely, a completed version with Ma Suyeon’s soul poured into it. There’s obviously nothing to revise, right? So I’ll just ask for support and admiration and applause and cheers?]
Even the ssages were noisy. Jegal Rok checked the funding page Manager Ma had sent.
The mont he scrolled down once, Han Yeoreum’s face appeared. Among the cards he currently held, it was the most advantageous one.
In countless dramas and films, the share allotted to female actors was fixed. In an industry littered with works where the leads were all n, Do Gyeoul and Han Yeoreum would have many battles ahead of them.
All for the sake of claiming a single role.
Input: Yes. Confirmation complete. Upload as scheduled.
And Jegal Rok sincerely hoped that Han Yeoreum would win. That she would bring about even greater innovation for JC ENM.
* * *
“Professor Geum must be happy. Your students are doing so well?”
Walking across campus, Geum Bitgang turned her head at the sudden question. Beside her was an elderly professor, smiling from ear to ear. Having a rough idea of who the question referred to, Geum Bitgang resud her slow walk.
“What’s there to be happy about. They’re still just chicks. Tsk.”
“One of them’s steadily continuing an acting career, another hit ten million viewers with their debut film, didn’t they? And the other one—what was it. One of them has a style we’ve never seen before. These days, they call it—”
In order, Do Gyeoul, Myeong Jeha, Han Yeoreum. In less than a year since entering the school, it was the first case in Daehan Arts General University’s history for freshn to stand out this much.
“Iconic.”
“That’s it! Iconic! I’m the most curious about that student. You can really feel that the world’s changed compared to before.”
“Is that so....”
“What’s she like in class? Fresh? Do you feel more youthful fire, that sort of thing. Raw gems are different from the mont they’re mixed among people, after all.”
Geum Bitgang thought of Han Yeoreum. Her acting at the when she’d first seen her.
The way she walked freely across the stage, the presence that seized attention with a single glance, the voice she released into the air—and above all else.
‘That desperate feeling, like she treasures acting as it is now.’
So things can be felt without analysis. For Geum Bitgang, that fleeting mont of Han Yeoreum had been exactly that. So she’d honestly expected sothing. She couldn’t help it—it had been a long ti since she felt sothing fresh.
“Well, to they’re all the sa. A chick’s a chick.”
But what about Han Yeoreum now? Every lecture, she was reserved in so way. There was no sense at all that she was pouring her whole self into it. Even though she could clearly dig deeper, she held herself back.
‘Well, JC took her in now—depending on how you look at it, maybe it was a good choice.’
Even if she didn’t give her all in school lectures, the field might be different. As proof, hadn’t Jegal Rok chosen Han Yeoreum?
Still, she was twenty. The best age to throw everything away and burn brightly.
Geum Bitgang hoped that Han Yeoreum’s acting wouldn’t end at rely being ‘marketable.’
“But you never know! Under Professor Geum, turning a chick into a phoenix isn’t exactly difficult, is it?”
“Is that so.”
“Then try a bit harder. Instead of strolling around looking all pitiful, like you could quit anyti.”
Geum Bitgang looked at the elderly professor. He sipped the coffee in his hand as he spoke.
“I know it all. All of it. We’re people whose job is to express and read—what thoughts, what emotions, huh? What kind of sothing—from these tiny faces for our entire lives. Your head’s transparent.”
“......”
“Alright, I’m off. Next ti, try walking while looking at the sky a bit. The day’s this nice—don’t just stare at the ground.”
Watching the old professor’s back, Geum Bitgang suddenly felt a strangely twisted emotion. It was because a student—one who clearly could do better, yet had neither the effort nor the will—kept stirring around in her mind.
With all the fuss everywhere, Geum Bitgang had ended up watching too. That video MBS had uploaded to Intube.
—Why am I always... always like this....
The mont she saw that scene, Geum Bitgang unconsciously clicked on Han Yeoreum’s previous work as well—the web drama . The thumbnail had been right there, next to it, carried along by the algorithm. It couldn’t be helped.
Han Yeoreum, shining freely inside the fra.
‘Right. Han Yeoreum.’
For so ti now, Geum Bitgang had realized the source of this dissatisfaction that felt like a stone pressing down on her chest. The mont she’d faced Han Yeoreum’s face again in the classroom.
“Only when you properly grasp the emotions before acting can you be called a real actor.”
As if lit on fire, she opened her mouth impulsively.
“What’s the difference between misery and desolation, Han Yeoreum?”
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