Chapter 5 Part 1: Grab the Bull by the Horns

Hong Jihyun, having come once again to Jang Youngho’s officetel to see Kim Minsu, said,
“Senior, take it.

There are plenty of PDs dying to get their hands on this position.”

“Then let them do it, you punk.”

“Ah, come on!

How long are you going to keep making short films, someone like you?”

“What’s wrong with short films?”

“Don’t be like that—this is your chance to make your drama debut.”

Kim Minsu looked at Hong Jihyun clinging to his arm, utterly dumbfounded.

After a moment of thought, Kim Minsu spoke.
“There are tons of PDs with loads of drama experience.

Why me, of all people?”

“Because you’re good.”

“Films and dramas are different.”

“I know.

That’s why I’m saying try it this time.

Are only films art or what?

Dramas are audiovisual art too.”

That was true.

Stopping his editing mid-way, Kim Minsu glanced at Jang Youngho, who was watching the two of them, and said,
“You know I was prepping a short film to submit to BIFF, right?”

“I know.”

“I’ve already put together most of the staff.

If I change my mind now, they’ll all be left hanging.”

Hong Jihyun replied with a confident expression.
“I already got a promise from the production manager that staff composition is entirely up to the director.

Hire whoever you want.

I’ll guarantee it.”

Kim Minsu’s resolve wavered ever so slightly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Short films didn’t make money.

Naturally, the staff were poor too.

Dramas were a form of audiovisual art with massive budgets.

The idea that he could provide money that would genuinely help his struggling staff was what finally swayed Kim Minsu.

Kim Minsu gestured toward Jang Youngho with his eyes and said,
“Assistant director—that guy.”

Hong Jihyun looked at Jang Youngho.

Startled, Jang Youngho exclaimed,
“What?

Senior, how am I supposed to be an assistant director on a broadcast drama?

This isn’t even a short film.”

“So what?

You were going to have to do it eventually anyway.

Think of it as doing it a little earlier.”

“…..”

Hong Jihyun smiled broadly and said,
“Wow, Director Jang.

You’ve got yourself a great senior.

Short film debut and straight into a drama assistant director credit, huh?”

Jang Youngho’s mouth fell open.

Surprise outweighed gratitude.

“Do you think I can do it?”

Kim Minsu gave Jang Youngho’s back a light tap and said,
“There’s no one better than you.

You think I keep calling you for no reason?

Have confidence and do it.”

“…..”

Folding his fingers one by one, Kim Minsu said,
“One cinematographer, one lighting director, one sound director, one script supervisor, one makeup artist.

And Youngho too.

We hire all of them.

O.K.?”

Hong Jihyun drew a circle in the air with her finger as if to say there was no problem.
“O.K.”

After confirming Kim Minsu’s nod, Hong Jihyun leaned forward and added,
“And one more.”

“What, who?”

“Ma Yejun.”

“…..”

“This drama needs one Chinese serial killer.

Honestly, his outward image doesn’t match perfectly, but actors are people who create images.

After seeing Director Jang’s film, I’m convinced.”

“Chinese?”

“Yes.

I’ll attach a Chinese language tutor and teach him properly.

Originally, I was looking for a bit actor who could speak Chinese naturally, but after seeing Yejun’s acting, my body just wouldn’t listen to reason.”

Director Kim Minsu pondered.

“Another killer role, huh.”

“Why?

Is there a problem?”

After a brief silence, Kim Minsu shook his head.
“No.

Let’s ask him first and decide.”

“O.K.”

“Who’s the lead?”

“Not decided yet, but Daehwa’s investment is coming in, so it’ll probably be Lee Jihoon.”

Kim Minsu frowned immediately.
“Ha.

That bastard’s acting is trash, isn’t it?”

Hong Jihyun beamed.
“Then let’s make art out of trash acting.

Isn’t that a director’s job?

If Lee Jihoon’s in it, ratings are guaranteed.

Art nobody watches isn’t art, Senior.”

“…..”

“Daehwa will shove in a few of their people too.

You know how this industry is.”

“Still, Lee Jihoon is a bit much.”

Scratching her cheek, Hong Jihyun said,
“Honestly, I don’t like it either.

But this isn’t the situation to be picky.

Try to understand the production team running around trying to scrape together even one more won of budget.”

“Hmm.”

After a long deliberation, Kim Minsu nodded.
“Alright.

For now.”

***

That evening, at a barbecue restaurant near Daehak-ro.

Hong Jihyun and Kim Minsu, drinking soju with samgyeopsal as their anju, turned their heads at the sound of a sliding door opening.

Yejun, summoned by Kim Minsu, entered the restaurant after finishing his performance.

Seeing a woman he didn’t recognize, his eyes widened.

Kim Minsu raised his hand slightly and said,
“Oh, Yejun.”

“Director.”

“Yeah, sit.”

As Yejun sat down, glancing at the smiling Hong Jihyun, Kim Minsu said,
“Say hello.

This is Hong Jihyun.

A well-known writer in the drama industry.”

Caught off guard, Yejun bowed his head.
“Hello, I’m Ma Yejun.”

“This is our first time meeting, right?”

“Yes.”

“But I’ve seen you a lot.”

“Pardon?”

Resting her chin on her hand, Hong Jihyun examined Yejun’s face and said,
“I went to see your play, and I also previewed the short film you shot recently.”

“Ah.

You must be acquainted with Director Jang.”

“Director Jang, and the writer Choi from the play you’re currently in—both are my school seniors.”

“Ah, I see.”

Kim Minsu let out a dry laugh.
“You only met Youngho the other day.

Why are you acting like you’re close?”

“Oh my?

Don’t you know they say that if you see someone twice, it’s because you were connected in a past life?”

“Honestly, the nerve.”

Kim Minsu blinked, then tilted his head at Yejun’s eyes as he tried to assess the situation.
“Yejun, did you cry?”

“Pardon?

No.”

“You look like you did.

There’s no crying scene in your play, is there?”

Yejun touched his eyes.

In fact, Jeonghwan hyung had asked him the same thing earlier that day.

There was nothing wrong with his eyes.

As he gently rubbed around them with his fingers, Yejun thought,
‘Is it because of those eye drops?’

Like the Pierrot doll’s water that instantly soothed his throat, those drops seemed to have some effect too.

Well, it wasn’t anything dramatic, so it should be fine.

Resting her chin on her hand, Hong Jihyun smiled as she looked into Yejun’s eyes.
“Up close, your eyes are really bright and moist.

That’s exactly an actor’s gaze.”

“……Thank you.”

“They’ll sparkle under the lights.”

“…..”

Kim Minsu lifted the soju bottle and said,
“Have a drink.”

“Yes, Director.”

After pouring generously, Kim Minsu lifted his own glass and said,
“Yejun.”

“Yes.”

“Want to play a killer one more time?”

“…..”

Another killer.

Having suffered greatly mentally while filming Director Jang’s short film, Yejun flinched.

As if he understood Yejun’s reaction, Kim Minsu said,
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

When Hong Jihyun was about to protest, Kim Minsu raised a hand to stop her and continued,
“Excessive immersion.

That’s not something you fix overnight.”

Hong Jihyun was an industry insider too.

Though brief, she immediately realized Kim Minsu was worried about Yejun and quietly stepped back.

Looking at the conflicted Yejun, Kim Minsu said,
“After Youngho’s short film, people trying to cast you will probably want to use you in similar roles.

This industry is all about image.

People hunting for killer roles won’t leave you alone.

That’s how strong your acting was.”

Yejun’s pupils trembled.

‘Director Kim Minsu calling my acting great…’

It was an honor.

In that moment, it felt like all the mental suffering back then was being repaid.

Kim Minsu continued,
“Right now, you’ve got two options.”

Holding up one finger, Kim Minsu said,
“One—avoid killer roles for a while and buy yourself time to recover.”

Holding up two fingers, he went on,
“The other—frontal breakthrough through repetitive training.”

He understood what it meant.

An actor couldn’t avoid roles forever.

If he had to handle killer roles anyway, then better to face it head-on and break through the difficulty early.

The phrase repetitive training stuck out especially strongly to Yejun.

After all, he was already undergoing endless repetitive training under Pierrot.

‘Repetitive training definitely helps.’

But would it apply here too?

Watching quietly, Hong Jihyun slipped into the conversation.
“But Yejun.”

“Yes?”

“We’re only talking about roles here.

Aren’t you curious what kind of project it is?”

Yejun tilted his head and looked at Kim Minsu.
“Isn’t it the short film for BIFF you mentioned before?”

Smiling brightly at Kim Minsu, Hong Jihyun did, and he took a sip of soju before saying,
“That got pushed back.”

“Then what project is it?”

“I just signed with OAN.”

“…..?”

‘Did I hear that wrong?’

OAN was a cable broadcaster.

A channel specializing in thriller and crime dramas.

A cable network backed by a massive parent corporation, known for producing many acclaimed dramas.

“You mean a broadcaster?”

“Yeah.”

“Then the project you’re doing is—”

“A drama.”

Yejun’s eyes widened.
“A d-drama?”

He had never imagined this.

With just one short film under his belt, breaking into drama was beyond his wildest dreams.

Swallowing hard, Yejun asked,
“The audition—”

Hong Jihyun smiled and wagged her index finger.
“Audition free-pass.

As long as you agree, you’re cast.”

His heart trembled.

Nine years spent chasing even a single drama bit role flashed before his eyes like a panorama.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as Yejun asked in a shaking voice,
“Does the role… have a name?”

Hong Jihyun burst out laughing.
“Pardon?

Haha!”

Kim Minsu let out a dry chuckle too.

But to Yejun, a named role meant everything.

He had drama experience—but only in numbered, nameless parts.

After laughing until tears welled up, Hong Jihyun stopped when she saw Yejun’s serious face.

“Jiang Wei (姜偉).

That’s your character’s name.”

Wei (偉).

One of the most common Chinese names.

…Wait.

Chinese?

“Is it a Chinese role?”

“Yes.”

“What about the language?”

“We’ll assign you a tutor.”

It was his first time playing a foreigner.

Doubts flickered through his mind—but with a named role in a drama on the table, that hardly mattered.

Lifting the soju bottle, Director Kim Minsu said,
“So, what do you say?

Want to try a frontal breakthrough?”

“…..”

He was too moved to speak—but Hong Jihyun mistook it for hesitation and hurriedly jumped in.

“The production company said to settle around eight hundred thousand per episode, but if you agree here, I’ll give you one million per episode at my discretion.

You’ll appear in four episodes.

Ah, of course, rebroadcast rights are difficult.”

One million won per episode.

Numbered bit roles barely paid two hundred thousand per episode.

And four episodes at that?

A jackpot.

Barely holding back his excitement, Yejun looked at the two watching him.

Hong Jihyun’s eyes were filled with expectation.

Director Kim Minsu looked at him with a deep, steady gaze.

Straightening his posture, Yejun bowed and said,
“Although I’m lacking, but I’ll do my best.”