CHAPTER 060: Pre-Meeting
CHAPTER 060: Pre-Meeting
Content Trinity Content Business Division.
The team members gathered in their secret hideout couldn’t hide their amazement at Vacuum State’s record-setting box office run.
“At this pace, doesn’t it look like it’ll pass 4 million?”
“Easily. It cleared 2 million in just a week after release. At this rate, 5 million will be nothing.”
“Wow… at this level, Haegang or DK must be sick to their stomachs. They don’t even have a single film this year that passed 3 million.”
“Their tentpole films they prepared so ambitiously all flopped one after another. They’ll be burning up over what they missed.”
A male team member with a parted perm grinned in satisfaction.
Then a female team member with her hair tied up suddenly spoke in a serious tone.
“No, but wasn’t Vacuum State a project that got turned down by five distributors originally?”
“Yeah. It’s probably not the most mainstream kind of film. Sounds like they refused, saying they felt uneasy for this reason and that.”
“But honestly, I get it. Even among us, almost nobody expected Vacuum State to do this well. Except for one person.”
“Who?”
“The Division Head. When it almost got scrapped because it couldn’t get investment, the Division Head read the script, suddenly got hooked, and brought it in.”
“Wow… so if it weren’t for the Division Head, Vacuum State might not have even made it into the world?”
“That’s how you should see it.”
At that, every team member rolled their eyes in unison, then let out admiring exclamations.
“Wow, so this is why they say you can’t see even an inch ahead in this world.”
“Did the Division Head really change after coming back…? Seeing him hit a home run on his very first at-bat the moment he returned, something’s not normal…”
“Well, we have to watch a bit more. It could be dumb luck that fell into his lap, or he really could have undergone a complete transformation.”
“I hope it’s the latter.”
The deputy manager, who had been listening quietly, checked the time and stood up.
“Man, time flew. The team leader must be back too. Everyone, go upstairs and get to work.”
The team members got up, gathering their things.
While everyone returned to the office, the deputy manager looked around and secretly headed upstairs.
“…That’s what the team members said.”
Where the deputy manager went was none other than the Division Head’s office.
In front of Division Head Han Seungwoo, he vividly reenacted the conversation.
Han Seungwoo wore a satisfied expression.
“Mm. Good content today. Five stars.”
He then pulled ten 50,000-won bills from his wallet and handed them over.
“Bring me another fun story next episode.”
Han Seungwoo was always curious about how others evaluated him.
He was just as curious about it from the perspective of subordinates.
But even when he held one-on-one meetings because he wanted honest talk, people kept freezing up or only spouting empty, nice-sounding words, and it never satisfied him.
‘Do they think I’m stupid? Like I can’t tell sincerity from lip service.’
So he found a method—spywork inspired by espionage stories.
Plant just one person properly, and the results were meaningful.
Only then did the harsh truths start coming in.
Well, the overly blunt ones did sour his mood. But he didn’t hunt down the speaker and retaliate.
Only one thing in the hideout got smashed.
“Whew—”
Anyway.
The evaluations of him were steadily rising.
When you feel good, you should raise the mood.
With results like this, it’s fine to enjoy a drink or two, right?
Just as he was about to contact his friends and set up a party—
a message came from his father.
A notice to meet at home for dinner.
“Ha, shit… why now?”
He hadn’t caused trouble and stayed quiet like this in a long time.
As anxiety washed over him, a few plausible reasons flickered through his mind.
Was holding the awards ceremony a mistake?
Or did they find out he bought a motorcycle?
…No way. Did he notice the artwork from the house had been moved to the hideout?
Once the thoughts started trailing into one another, they wouldn’t stop.
At this rate, it felt like his whole hand would show.
He stopped thinking and leaned back against the chair.
‘I’ll find out when I go get chewed out.’
In the end, Han Seungwoo put away his earlier excitement and waited quietly until quitting time.
Han Seungwoo arrived home with heavy steps.
As expected, his father was sitting quietly at the head of the long dining table.
A huge newspaper hid his face.
He couldn’t tell what expression was behind it.
Tonight, would it be interrogation, anger, suspicion, or the stick?
The moment he sat down, tense to the limit, his father spoke.
“Seems you’ve got a sense for it.”
“…Pardon?”
Sense?
What sense? Sense for what?
While Han Seungwoo stood there bewildered by the out-of-nowhere comment,
his mother sat down across from him and smiled brightly.
“Honey, what kind of compliment is that?”
In her hand was the wine his father treasured most.
‘That’s the wine he only brings out when an important guest comes…?’
Only then did his father lower the newspaper he’d been reading.
Han Seungwoo’s gaze naturally went to the paper.
“……!”
The page where his father’s eyes must have been resting.
A feature article about Vacuum State’s box office success was printed there.
“Well done.”
In that moment, Han Seungwoo’s world stopped.
Three syllables tossed out casually, as if it were nothing.
There were no fancy modifiers, just the plain words—
but those three syllables pierced straight through Han Seungwoo’s heart.
‘Was he someone who could say something like that…?’
A panorama of his childhood self—always craving his father’s attention—flashed past.
When he won gold at a taekwondo tournament and proudly held it out.
When he showed his father’s portrait he’d drawn all night for an art assignment.
His father had only nodded expressionlessly.
Not once had there been warm praise.
‘No… maybe there could have been. When I was too young to remember. A time when you could be praised for nothing more than taking your first steps.’
But today, for the first time.
He was acknowledged for the “work” he chose.
“…Pardon?”
Han Seungwoo asked again without meaning to.
Maybe he’d misheard. Maybe it was auditory hallucination.
But at the corner of his father’s mouth was a faint—very faint—smile.
“I said you did well.”
A swelling rush of emotion.
Even when he bought a sports car worth tens of billions,
even when he wrapped himself in luxury brands,
the emptiness that never filled—
melted away like snow at a single word from his father.
“But don’t let your guard down. The moment a leader lets his guard down—”
His mother pinched his arm from the side, and his father stopped mid-sentence.
Instead, he picked up the wine in front of him and poured Han Seungwoo a glass.
“…Thank you.”
To hide the overflowing emotion, Han Seungwoo downed the wine in one gulp and shoved food into his mouth.
His father watched his son in silence.
“…Straightforward.”
As the meal neared its end in awkward silence,
his father stood first.
He walked down the hallway as if heading to his study, then stopped and tossed a line at Han Seungwoo.
“Don’t get carried away. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
The tone was brusque, but somehow it felt like there was warm approval inside it.
His mother gave a small laugh at her husband’s back, then gently took Han Seungwoo’s hand.
“He’s happy. He’s just bad at showing it. You did well, my son.”
“…Well, it’s not like I deserve that big of a compliment. I’m not a kid.”
Han Seungwoo answered, forcing himself to act calm as he stood up.
But the entire walk to his room, his heart was pounding beyond control.
The distance to his room felt unusually long tonight.
The moment he finally reached his room and shut the door,
Han Seungwoo stopped hiding it.
“Ki-yat-hooo!”
He shouted, punching the air over and over.
How long had it taken to be acknowledged by his father?
Someone might snort and say, this is what counts as acknowledgement?
But to Han Seungwoo—who had lived for decades under nothing but his father’s cold glare—this was a huge reward.
Wanting to savor this joy again, Han Seungwoo turned on his computer.
Then he searched up articles about Vacuum State and reread them.
‘The newspaper article Dad was reading. That must’ve been a Taeseong Daily article, right?’
He found it quickly.
Reading it again through his father’s eyes made it even more thrilling.
While praising the content of Vacuum State, the article also praised how the film almost had its production canceled due to its non-mainstream subject matter, but was able to come into the world thanks to Content Trinity’s bold investment.
Han Seungwoo’s grin widened.
Then his gaze stopped on the photo attached to the article.
It was Ryu Sunho’s face, screaming in agony with a desperate expression.
After staring at it for a long time, a thought suddenly crossed Han Seungwoo’s mind.
The beginning of this film was—
‘…Ryu Sunho.’
Only after hearing the news that Ryu Sunho had been slated as the lead did Han Seungwoo finally take interest in the script and read it himself.
Even in the marketing strategy meeting, it had been Ryu Sunho who gave the inspiration that flipped the board.
‘If it weren’t for Ryu Sunho, I wouldn’t have given this film a second look.’
Half of this thrilling success belonged to Ryu Sunho.
Then, now that he’d been acknowledged by his father, he should practice his father’s teaching again.
‘I’m Taeseong Group blood.’
The Emperor’s Law, Rule Three.
Don’t begrudge rewarding good work—reward it big.
‘But what do I reward him with? Handing over cash feels too cold, doesn’t it? He’s a little brother I even had fried chicken and beer with.’
Huh?
Wait.
In that moment, a decent idea popped into his head.
“Should I buy him fried chicken and beer?”
On the way back after finally finishing the scheduled film promotion activities.
Team Leader Jo Sehun brought it up.
“Sunho, tomorrow PD Yeom Jaeho says he wants to do a full cast pre-meeting.”
A pre-meeting?
“Where? At the station?”
“No, it’s kind of unusual.”
Jo Sehun checked his phone as he spoke.
“He says he wants to do it in a potluck party format. You know what that is, right? A party vibe where everyone brings one dish and shares.”
The moment I heard that, my mind started turning fast.
‘PD Yeom Jaeho wouldn’t suddenly throw a party for no reason.’
If it’s his style, he won’t let even the first meeting pass by casually.
He’s probably planning to read everyone’s character by seeing what food they bring and how they prepared it.
‘Then.’
Rather than buying something, making it myself would look better on camera.
It would also look more sincere.
‘Should I prepare something like braised short ribs?’
I considered it briefly.
But I’m not the main chef role.
Looking at the cast, it’s obvious who they planned and cast as the main chef.
So without standing out too much, something easy to snack on, with a reasonable amount of effort put into it, would be best.
My choice was—
‘Donggeurangttaeng. That’s perfect.’
With that plan made, a few days later,
I started moving busily from the morning of the pre-meeting day.
I stopped by a supermarket near my newly moved-in place and picked out ingredients.
‘Ground pork and tofu were a 7-to-3 ratio. Onion and carrot, mince them as finely as possible… Ah, I need to buy that too.’
Repeating my mother’s recipe in my head, I bought what I needed and went back home.
Then in the kitchen, I prepped the ingredients with practiced ease.
A brisk chopping sound echoed, and soon everything went into a big bowl and got mixed into a sticky batter.
And finally, I added our family’s secret ingredient to the mixture and started pan-frying them until golden.
I picked one up to taste it.
“Not bad.”
I was satisfied with my cooking skills.
A party room somewhere in Mapo-gu, Seoul.
“Put one more camera in that corner. Catch their expressions properly when they eat. Okay. Done.”
PD Yeom Jaeho gave instructions to the staff.
“Would be nice if we catch a fun character right from the start.”
As he said, today’s pre-meeting was a chance to check the cast’s chemistry in advance and build rapport before real filming began.
That was why he told everyone to bring food.
Because personality and preferences show through, making it easier to shape characters and set the direction of the edit.
“Hehe. I’m really excited today. The combination is so fresh.”
“First, I think the power struggle between the two cooking leads will be fun, and I’m curious about the chemistry between the youngest, Lee Yuna, and Ryu Sunho.”
Then one writer showed a hint of concern.
“Ah, but I’m a little worried.”
“About what?”
“Sunho. Like PD said, he’s the key, but I’m worried he’ll end up as a boring character who only works.”
Another writer added.
“That’s true. Being good at foreign languages, having good marketing sense—those are huge weapons for running a business, but as a variety character, it can be a bit bland. What viewers find funny is someone getting a little messy and showing a sloppy side.”
PD Yeom Jaeho brushed off their worries with a light laugh.
“That could make it even more fun.”
“Huh?”
“With that kind of perfection, you might end up seeing him clash with the people around him. That’s the viewing point. We just set the stage, and then we catch what cracks appear inside it.”
As the writers were admiring PD Yeom Jaeho’s seasoned analysis,
the cast started arriving one by one.
“Nice to meet you.”
First, the two who would take on the chef roles arrived.
Both were celebrities by trade, but they knew food deeply enough to run restaurants on the side.
Especially Go Junhyeok, the bald male comedian—he was serious about cooking, to the point of operating five restaurants.
“Wow, you brought something this intense?”
“We’re going overseas to compete with cooking, right? Gotta assert dominance in advance.”
Next, the other members including Lee Yuna entered in order, and lastly, Ryu Sunho arrived.
“Hello.”
“Wow, I’ve seen you a lot on TV, but in person you’re really handsome.”
“…Ho-woo.”
Leaving behind Lee Yuna’s small mutter,
everyone sat around one table and exchanged awkward greetings.
What replaced the icebreakers was the food each person brought.
While they tasted each other’s dishes and talked,
the bald comedian Go Junhyeok picked up Ryu Sunho’s donggeurangttaeng.
“Whose is this?”
“I brought it.”
“Did you buy it?”
“No, I pan-fried it myself.”
“Oh? Really? You can cook?”
Go Junhyeok’s eyes lit with interest.
“If it tastes good after I try it, I’ll promote you to assistant chef on the spot.”
“Oooh!”
With PD Yeom Jaeho hyping the mood from the side,
Go Junhyeok put the donggeurangttaeng into his mouth with a serious expression.
He chewed for a while—
and his expression started to twist strangely…?
“…What did you put in donggeurangttaeng?”
“I… sliced yuzu into it.”
“…You put yuzu in it? Who puts yuzu in donggeurangttaeng?”
“…My mother does.”
“Ah.”
At that moment,
PD Yeom Jaeho, who had been watching from the side, sprayed out the water he was drinking.