The Meaning of the Lowest Ratings (2)
“Cut!”
The shout breaking through his deep immersion echoed faintly in his ears.
The oppressive pressure that had crushed his vision and mind vanished as if washed away, and his narrowly focused field of view suddenly opened wide.
Finally returning to his role as the veteran actor Park Jun-ho from the character Go Seung, he stood there blankly, blinking several times.
“Sir, great work. That was truly excellent acting. It felt like you could crush everything just with your gaze, haha.”
Jang Seung-won approached, bowing his head repeatedly as he praised the performance.
Park Jun-ho, still dazed as if waking from a dream in his sleep, gave a wry smile.
“PD Jang, is there some kind of hypnosis effect on this screen wall or something?”
Pointing at the massive LED wall, Park Jun-ho asked, leaving Jang Seung-won puzzled.
“Hypnosis effect?”
“No, the moment the shoot sign dropped, it felt like I was suddenly thrown into the world of the drama. Like I experienced out-of-body for a second.”
“Aigoo, sir. You must have been really deeply immersed in Go Seung. That's why the acting felt so profoundly original—like it wasn't just acting, but the real thing.”
Jang Seung-won praised Park Jun-ho's performance even more extravagantly than usual.
The expressiveness he'd seen through the monitor was flawless, so there was no burden in exaggerating the compliments.
What did this man sense from the lens authority? What did he see?
Curious about that, Jeong Seo-hoon quietly peered into Park Jun-ho's pupils.
Not as intensely as Lee Min-soo, but he was sufficiently disoriented.
Gradually forcing himself to regain composure and steady his breathing.
Park Jun-ho, now approaching closely, patted Jeong Seo-hoon's shoulder as if impressed.
“I didn't believe it when Min-soo told me, but now that I've experienced it, I get it. You've got this peculiar aura about you, Seo-hoon.”
“You're too kind. I'll take it as encouragement to do even better going forward.”
“It's not just praise—it's, well, hard to explain. Anyway...”
Even Park Jun-ho himself was greatly bewildered by the strange immersion he'd just felt.
Sometimes, when acting, such days happen.
Days when the co-actor's face feels unusually large and vivid.
When the camera fades from consciousness, and the PD or director's presence blurs.
When you can purely focus on the presence of yourself and your co-actor.
It was completely different.
But the concentration he'd felt moments ago was a unity entirely different from those occasional moments when emotions flowed well.
It wasn't just that Jeong Seo-hoon appeared larger and clearer; only the overwhelming presence of the great army lord was visible and tangible.
“Do you like drinking?”
“I don't initiate, but I won't turn it down if offered.”
“I like booze.”
He'd heard it was harder to find people who hated alcohol on drama sets.
Especially among the famous and older stars.
“Just now, it felt exactly like getting briefly drunk on booze and then snapping out of it right away. That's the only way I can describe it. PD Jang, you didn't really install some hypnosis device on this screen wall, did you?”
“No, we didn't. But sir, because the wall is so massive, actors often report experiencing intense immersion like that.”
“Really?”
“Anyway, it produced great acting, so isn't that satisfying?”
Park Jun-ho glanced once each at Jeong Seo-hoon, Jang Seung-won, and the LED wall before nodding.
“I hope it feels like this all throughout today.”
***
Lee Min-soo had noticed the moment he saw Park Jun-ho's eyes lost in immersion during the acting.
That he was feeling the same sensation he'd experienced not long ago.
Even with the prior heads-up, would he handle it more calmly, or brush it off only to panic belatedly?
Either way, watching from one step removed was simply enjoyable.
“Up close it's tragedy, from afar it's comedy...”
There was something indescribable about Jeong Seo-hoon. At least Lee Min-soo believed it.
But since that day, he hadn't been able to touch that intangible sensation again.
Only repeated futility, like futilely waving hands in empty air.
“If I told anyone about this, they'd just say I've been acting too long and gone mad...”
Before he knew it, the scene had wrapped.
Park Jun-ho's bewildered reaction was quite gratifying.
He must have had a similar experience.
And now he'd walk the same path of confusion.
Am I overly immersed today, messing up my vision? Or did that Jeong Seo-hoon kid hypnotize me?
From rational guesses to absurd delusions, they'd swirl endlessly in his mind.
With the dignity of an intellectual and the pride of a veteran actor, he wouldn't grab Jeong Seo-hoon and grill him.
“The set's atmosphere is this hot, so why are the reporters' reactions like this?”
Lee Min-soo donned his reading glasses and picked up his phone.
He opened the browser, went to the portal, and searched for entertainment news.
The titles popping up were all about Taejong's Origin.
Since Taejong's Origin began airing, mentions of Haegeuk had drastically decreased in the entertainment sections.
“Even the rare time it dominated entertainment news recently was just because of that fabricated scandal.”
Articles copied and pasted like a downpour from reporters baited by the fake scandal between Jeong Seo-hoon and Lee Seo-hyeon.
That explosive heat was the true standing Haegeuk currently enjoyed.
“KBC's really going all out, tsk tsk. Some things you just don't cover.”
“Going all out on what?”
“Oh, hyung-nim.”
Park Jun-ho, who had returned unnoticed, sat beside him and asked. Lee Min-soo showed him the articles.
“Look at this. All Taejong's Origin articles. And they're perennial runners-up, over 10% behind our ratings.”
“Ah, that? I heard their vice president is cracking down. Threatening entertainment reporters to behave whenever he meets them.”
“Building up favors nice and steady. Trying to cover the sky with a palm.”
“Can't have that. Mortals defying the heavens get punished.”
“But our great army lord succeeds anyway. Defying heaven.”
“That's history already. Anyway, I don't know how KBC's VP plans to clean up this mess with all the incidents he's causing.”
“Hyung-nim, heard anything?”
Park Jun-ho took a sip of water before continuing slowly.
Taejong's Origin ratings are lagging far behind ours.”
“Yeah.”
“Word is, that's making VP Kim's position shaky. The rumor that he bullied Haegeuk to push his nephew's variety debut has spread everywhere.”
“He won't last long.”
“Taejong's Origin barely holding at over 10% kept him afloat till now, but you know? The script's been wildly inconsistent lately.”
“Has it? I don't watch Taejong's Origin, so I didn't know. Gotta binge it sometime.”
“My take? It won't hold double digits till the end. Definitely dropping below 9%.”
“Even better for us.”
Park Jun-ho opened his script.
But his eyes were on Jeong Seo-hoon, preparing for the next scene.
Lee Min-soo noticed the gaze and chuckled silently.
“So, how was it? Impressions of syncing with the monster rookie?”
“That kid wasn't really hypnotizing me right in front of my face, was he?”
“Hyung-nim, I wanna know too. Tell me when you figure it out.”
“I asked.”
“Don't make me the only fool.”
***
Another Monday arrived.
This Monday sent ripples through the drama world.
Taejong's Origin, which had peaked at 13% last Tuesday, closed at a shocking lowest of 9.8%.
The Taejong's Origin side desperately emphasized only the “highest rating of 11.9%” to dodge the issue.
The lowest rating during airtime is unimportant. The highest rating matters.
No ratings system emphasizes the lowest during airtime.
Who talks lowest ratings? Everyone mentions the highest.
The Bireop fandom wouldn't miss such prime ammo.
Disguising themselves as casual viewers or passing Taejong's Origin fans, they diligently spread sources across articles and SNS.
Their proven firepower unleashed a full-frontal barrage.
And the next day, Tuesday.
Taejong's Origin, starting at 9.7%, never once exceeded it—not even for a second over the full 1 hour 20 minutes (including ads)—and ended there.
In just a week, ratings that hovered above 10% plunged into single digits.
***
“Seo-hoon, wanna grab a drink tonight?”
Shooting wrapped, and Jang Seung-won approached with a pleased expression.
“What's the good news?”
For schedule-sensitive Jang Seung-won to suggest drinks first was rare.
“Taejong's Origin totally tanked yesterday. How can we not celebrate? Writer Kim's thrilled too. Join us for a round.”
“If that's the case, count me in.”
Jeong Seo-hoon joined without hesitation.
Thus, the three gathered in Jang Seung-won's editing room, spreading out delivery food and canned beers for a cheerful toast.
“What did I tell you? Do that and you'd ruin the writer, right?”
“Yes, exactly. I trusted Writer Kim's insight too.”
“Felt it from ep 4. Side-script incoming. From ep 5, full-on side-script live shoot.”
Kim Sang-hee was buzzing with excitement.
The grudge from KBC trying to lowball production costs still lingered deeply.
Jang Seung-won suddenly recalled and said,
“Oh yeah, Taejong crumbling this fast is partly thanks to Seo-hoon here.”
“My part?”
“You pulled in 30B for production. Rumor spread, shook the Taejong PD's mentality hard.”
“I see.”
“Yeah. PD got inferiority complex, ratings gap widened, panicked and hounded the writer, writer got script anxiety and kept revising into side-scripts... snowball effect.”
To Jeong Seo-hoon, Taejong's Origin seemed half-collapsed already.
Probably no recovery next week.
Jeong Seo-hoon, half-raising a can to his lips before lowering it, asked nonchalantly,
“Taejong's Origin blew 90B. If next week stays single digits too, what happens in cases like this?”
“If I were CEO...”
Jang Seung-won, grinning like he could dance, said excitedly,
“Fire the VP, end at ep 20 early. That's how you salvage remaining budget.”
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