Romance and the Lab, Germination (1)
Hwang Gi-tae set input values on the computer with Im Se-jun, a third-year PhD candidate, his voice heavy with fatigue.
"I just don't get it sometimes. Why go the hard way when you could just grab a seat at a nearby restaurant and hear everything?"
The Tarab undergrads deployed for the bad sector role had caught it in real time, even faster. They'd been right there, listening directly.
Lee Se-jong's lab fan-slaves had poured in every ounce of effort, only to get the intel a few seconds later than those guys.
"Eh, that's what makes it a memory. Imagine how bored they must get with all that endless experimenting, studying, and paper-writing in lab life."
"I've never seen another lab this united with outsiders."
"Fan hearts unite 'em, right? Anyway, hyung."
"Yeah?"
"I was thinking—why not have them write a paper on what they did?"
"A paper?"
"They extracted specific target voices from noisy indoor waves using astronomical observation gear through glass vibrations. Sounds paper-worthy to me."
"Oh, nice. I'll suggest it to the professor."
Jang Seung-won, Song Jeong-woo, and Kim Sang-hee visited the university.
It was for a meeting on the new drama production.
Jeong Seo-hoon had offered to head to Gangnam, but Jang Seung-won cheerfully insisted on coming.
'The company's owner proxy has full authority—it's only right we come to you.'
And so the four gathered in the lab's meeting room.
It was called a meeting room, but it was just a corner of the admin computer space with a sofa and table shoved in.
Kim Sang-hee spoke first.
"Loved the vlog. So, how was Jim Warsney in person?"
"Total gentleman. Relaxed, good sense of humor, straightforward."
"No prickly director vibes or micromanaging?"
"None. And why would he show that side to me?"
"Kim writer, why you glancing at me while asking that?"
"Why, Song PD? Got something to hide?"
"Hide? Me? Ah, among PD-directors, who else has my Buddha bod? Honestly, if prickly's the game, Jang PD's second to none. Right, Jang PD?"
"Song PD pretends to be all mild and smiles while grinding his staff. I show my pickiness upfront so they brace themselves. Never backstab like Song PD."
The chit-chat naturally turned to the Hollywood venture.
"Everything on BiLab true? Word is it wasn't just one or two overhearing at the restaurant."
"Seriously rewriting the script so Seo-hoon's part shoots in Korea?"
"If Jim convinces the other two producers. Messing with a finished script ain't easy."
Jang Seung-won stroked his chin at Jeong Seo-hoon's reply.
"Jim seems like he'd pull it off. Think we'll snag an Oscar next year?"
"Just American lip service. Yanks aren't stingy with praise."
"Seo-hoon, asking as The King Film producer."
Jang Seung-won sobered his tone a notch.
"You're really not going Hollywood, right?"
"Yeah. Got studies to finish here."
"Even with America's superior research setup?"
"Only possible in Korea."
"Relieved as a producer. As a media guy, bummed I won't see you dominating Hollywood."
"Even sticking to Korea, I can't star in every good project. So many great ones pouring out these days."
As the small talk wrapped, business took center stage.
"Casting's all locked—contracts signed. But one's still pending."
"Brought my stamp."
"Trouble is figuring your pay."
Jang Seung-won grinned playfully.
"Owner says top historical rate plus 100 million. That'd make it 600 million per episode."
"Actors pulling 500 million an ep?"
"Not till this year. You shattered the ceiling so hard, industry's buzzing."
Song Jeong-woo nodded, arms crossed.
"Star prices are insane. Budgets fixed, y'know? Not complaining—just the cash funneling creates on-set headaches."
"But it's the professor's money. Just pay 600 mil an ep. For our Seo-hoon, not a penny wasted."
Jang Seung-won shrugged.
"Not about the cash. Once you take 600 mil, that's the floor. Could cramp your style for diverse roles later."
Worried about misunderstanding, he hurried to add,
"You've got the biggest project hunger. Sky-high pay scares off other producers from even pitching."
"Here's my take."
Jeong Seo-hoon thought briefly, then proposed.
"Offer 600 mil, but as a director, I insist on my previous rate. Redirect 450 million pure to staff incentives."
"Staff incentives?"
"Yeah. Illegal didn't show me, but Su-jang-go, Haegeuk, The Hunter highlighted brutal set gaps."
"I get it."
Bitter smiles tugged at the two PDs' lips.
"Dramas are rough compared to films. Friends who dip into movies swear off dramas forever."
"Cold truth: pure actor me wouldn't care. But I'm a producer-director. Ignoring staff conditions on my company's drama? Moral backlash."
Kim Sang-hee gazed admiringly, impressed.
"Didn't know you thought that deep. Our actresses hear this, they'll swoon again. Talent, looks, and heart."
Jang Seung-won smiled easily.
"So, as director, what specifics you want from the salaried boss?"
"Standard contracts for all staff. Base 8-hour days, OT max to 11 hours, 1.5x pay bump, five-day weeks."
"Gonna need extra hires. Double previous numbers at least."
The PDs felt a twinge of shame.
They knew the hellish staff gripes.
But they'd willfully ignored—not my problem.
"Kinda embarrassing. Knew the 20-hour all-nighters, but as PDs grinding too, shrugged it off."
"We get fat paychecks. Staff bust ass for minimum wage."
"Got it. The King Film breaks the mold first. Pay fair, no health risks."
Kim Sang-hee nodded approvingly.
"Package this right, it's prime Seo-hoon lore. 'Sets too harsh after a few shoots, so my company fixes it.' Kid with face for acting, heart of gold—public eats it up."
"Professor's company, so match his standards. Sets rougher than our lab."
Rougher than your grad school? What burn hits harder?
"Lab has no fixed hours—masters get 2.4 mil monthly, PhDs 3 mil. Separate OT incentives."
No fixed hours due to academia's nature.
Grad students burning nights for self-growth snag no degree otherwise.
Lab folk torch days and nights for themselves first.
Kim Sang-hee clapped lightly.
"Love it. I'll leak to a reporter buddy—warm human interest. Not now, mid-broadcast."
"Kim writer, why broadcast?"
"Reason not to?"
"Nah, when you pick timing, there's intent. Spill."
"Kim writer, me too."
As Jang Seung-won chimed in, Kim Sang-hee tsked softly and answered.
"Seo-hoon's a mad scientist."
"Right."
"Doesn't show early."
"Hiding it?"
"Early rom-com cosplay. Then—bam!—gut punch."
"Classic Kim ruthlessness. How could viewers not adore it?"
"Harsh phrasing, but praise, so pass. Anyway, drop the tale when villain reveal peaks evil—total twist. Then..."
"Ratings boost."
"Yup."
"Aigoo, ratings ghosts haunt me. Why so cute?"
"You two know the pain of 29.9% to 39.1% stall?"
"Duh."
"How could we not? We shot 'em."
Kim Sang-hee wagged her finger no-way.
"You took single hits. I double-tapped. Shock diff."
"This time, our trio—40% smash. Two at 69%, 40%'s cake."
"Song PD, you tanked me to 34.5%. Our average?"
"Jang PD, Illegal at 32 eps? I'd hit 45 easy."
"Song PD, 39.1% sageuk easy?"
"Haegeuk got Hollywood remake offers?"
"Guys, ease up on my babies. Both sore spots."
Script reading morning.
Jeong Seo-hoon woke in Lee Se-jong's provided house, washed up, prepped to leave.
Ha Tae-soo, half-cohabiting lately, had breakfast ready first.
"Meant to wake you—up already? You're a machine. Bedtime yesterday?"
"Five hours?"
"Not a one-off—daily? You okay?"
Lie.
Actual sleep: one hour. Rest on laptop papers or lab cloud data checks.
Enhanced strength, recovery, stamina body grants peak form from ~1-hour naps—like days off.
No comet gift, no juggling acting and grad school.
Post-meal, they van'd out.
"Drama budget?"
"Professor says dump all Haegeuk profits in."
"Huh? How much'd he make?"
"Could reshoot Haegeuk?"
"Whoa, for real?"
"Nah, not all in. Enough for two-three standard 16-eps."
"This drama's hype. Jeong Seo-hoon's women all in. Day as you? Dream."
Jeong Seo-hoon just smiled quietly.
Studio lot, van parked.
Tiny kya squeak—Ha Tae-soo missed it.
Glance: meters off, slim girl in neat jeans, white tee.
Manager-guy and coord beside.
"Im Seo-rin. Her too?"
"Dunno her."
"Debut acting. Solo singer, huge fanbase. Pay?"
"Age?"
"Your peer."
Senior debut-wise.
Jeong Seo-hoon nodded decision, light bow from afar.
Im Seo-rin, startled, deep bow back.
"Up."
No shared elevator.
Awkward or more prep, probably.
Jeong Seo-hoon met Song Jeong-woo, Kim Sang-hee first.
"No Jang PD?"
"Producer skips readings. Handling other stuff."
Three killed time; staff announced all cast arrived.
Director-PD-lead-actor-director entered last.
Circular tables: ironically, four leads equidistant, quintasecting the circle.
Pre-seat, Kim Sang-hee poked Jeong Seo-hoon's side.
"Seo-hoon, guess how they're eyeing you?"
"Dunno."
"None admit they're below you. All looking up—like you're above."
Kim Sang-hee laid his stardom foundation, roofed it fancy.
Thus, prouder than him at this reaction.
"Big-star gaze. Makes me happy."