Don't Tell Me It's S University?
Time flew by, and before anyone quite realized it, Welcome to Cafe Violet had aired through episode eleven.
By the time episode ten went out, the show had already claimed the number-one spot in buzz across every program in the country, whipping Korea into a full-blown drama frenzy. Ratings held steady in the mid-twenties.
“Hmm.”
I set aside the news article I’d been reading and opened a YouTube channel, clicking the video tagged as this week’s most-viewed.
Welcome to Cafe Violet — Episode 11 Final Highlight Scene
The video had gone up only two days ago, and it already had four million views. Ten thousand comments. Sixty thousand likes.
The scene was Haon confessing his feelings to Gyeoul.
Of course, the instant Gyeoul parted her lips to answer, the preview for the next episode cut in and episode eleven ended right there.
A textbook “If you want to know what happens next, please tune in to next week’s broadcast ^^” cliffhanger.
Dramas in this world didn’t really use that kind of hard break. Writers here seemed half-consciously wary that it might disrupt the flow of the story, so they never quite leaned into it.
Anyway.
I’d been subjected to the technique until I was sick of it in my previous life, so pulling it off hadn’t been hard for me at all.
Ah—and if you had no resistance to this particular brand of cliffhanger, the comment section would leave you roughly like this:
I scrolled through the highest-upvoted comments and felt a little dizzy.
Namgung Hwan and Seol Soyoung locking lips?
Even setting the age issue aside, that scene didn’t exist.
And if Seol Soyoung kept appearing in my work going forward, it still wouldn’t exist.
The reason was simple.
Just because I didn’t want to see it… was, honestly, only a secondary reason. The real one was avoiding the wrath of her father, CEO Seol Hanyong.
If Welcome to Cafe Violet had come out with an overly intimate scene—or a kiss?
Oh, man…
Then CEO Seol Hanyong would have been bellowing, “Who the hell wrote this script?!” and hunting me down in earnest.
As someone who’d seen the original, I knew exactly how deep his love for his daughter ran.
That was when it happened.
Bzzzzzt—
The phone I’d been given by Studio NMIX buzzed yet again, right on schedule.
This thing really never had a quiet day.
It was a little sad to admit, but at this point it was probably getting more calls than my original phone.
I sighed and checked the screen.
For once, PD Na Yeongjin was calling me first.
“What is it?”
"Eunwoo. Please—just this once—save us."
……?
I picked up and he was begging for his life out of nowhere.
What was with this man and the terrifying openers?
Something about it was giving me PTSD flashbacks to the time Seol Soyoung had been trying to get my number.
“Save you from what?”
"The Executive Director of Management came back to Korea yesterday."
The Executive Director of Management…?
Studio NMIX’s org chart, the one hyung Yongseok had once explained to me, floated up in my mind.
Studio NMIX ran on a peculiar two-director system.
One was Park Yongo, the Production Director in charge of everything related to drama production.
The other was Yoo Yeonjung, Executive Director of Management—the true power behind Studio NMIX, responsible for all business and operations.
For reference, Executive Director Yoo Yeonjung was also Production Director Park Yongo’s wife.
From what PD Na was saying, it sounded like she’d finally finished her months-long business trip to Japan and come home.
“And?”
"Well… she wants to meet Writer 927."
“…Me?”
Hmm. Surely she wasn’t just calling me in to say hello… right?
Word reached Studio NMIX that Executive Director Yoo Yeonjung was returning from Japan to Korea.
Under normal circumstances, Production Director Park Yongo would have gone to meet her himself—but he invented a sudden meeting and fled.
The only person who could reasonably hold a one-on-one conversation with Executive Director Yoo Yeonjung without disaster was roughly Na Yeongjin, so the ironclad order came down: he would go pick her up.
And so Na Yeongjin arrived at Incheon Airport, bitterly lamenting his lot in life.
It didn’t take long to spot her—brown coat, black sunglasses, Executive Director Yoo Yeonjung herself.
“My, PD Na. Your face looks better than the last time I saw you. Things must be going well these days?”
“Haha. All thanks to you working so hard for us in Japan, Director.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
Yoo Yeonjung slipped off her black sunglasses and smiled at the corner of her mouth.
“So while I was gone, you and my husband went and pulled something very interesting.”
“Interesting… ma’am?”
“Don’t play dumb. You’re sharper than that. Writer 927. Even Japan is in an absolute uproar.”
“The drama hasn’t even finished airing yet—and the news already reached that far?”
“It has. Japanese broadcasters contacted me directly. They said they’re interested in an export deal.”
“Good lord……”
That, too, was exceptional if anything was.
Japan loved dramas every bit as much as Korea did. But ordinarily the calls came about remake rights—not a direct pitch for exporting the original itself. That was rare.
“It’s a masterpiece earning raves wherever it goes. Of course they would.”
A monster of a writer who’d hit twenty-five percent ratings with a debut work. Even the critics—famously hard to please—were singing its praises.
“The problem is, episode fifteen and its climax scene haven’t even aired yet.”
Yoo Yeonjung grinned.
By virtue of her position, she had already been able to watch every episode in advance.
And she would stake her name on it: the climax of episode fifteen was the finest she had ever seen in any drama, period.
“You and my husband finally did something useful for the company for once.”
“We got lucky.”
“In this business, luck is skill. Anyway—as a representative of Studio NMIX, the least I can do is meet this brilliant writer face-to-face. It’s only polite.”
“…Excuse me? You’re going to meet Writer 927?”
“Obviously. That’s half the reason I came back to Korea. And we need a quiet little talk about the Japan broadcast deal and the next project as well.”
Na Yeongjin’s heart dropped.
Come to think of it, Executive Director Yoo Yeonjung had only ever received one-sided reports. She didn’t know the details about Writer 927.
Which meant she almost certainly didn’t know about the contract he’d struck with Production Director Park—or about his age.
“What? Your face says something’s wrong.”
Yoo Yeonjung tilted her head, catching his unease in an instant.
“Well, about the contract……”
“The contract? You and my husband aren’t amateurs. You signed him as an exclusive writer, didn’t you? I was prepared to look the other way even if it cost us a few hundred million this time.”
Looking at the bright smile on Yoo Yeonjung’s face, Na Yeongjin swallowed hard.
Anyone could tell that smile did not mean anything good.
So Na Yeongjin’s instincts took over first—he bowed his head and apologized.
“I’m sorry. Due to the writer’s personal circumstances, we weren’t able to secure an exclusive contract.”
“Is that so? What kind of circumstances make you let a raw gem like that slip through your fingers?”
Yoo Yeonjung’s eyes flared.
The reason, frankly, didn’t matter much to her.
What mattered was that Writer 927 was not currently under Studio NMIX.
Which meant he could vanish on the wind at any time, didn’t it?
That absolutely cannot happen.
She had no intention of releasing prey that had already walked into her hands.
She was the sort of person who would rather destroy something herself than risk future trouble.
However—
“The truth is, Writer 927 is extremely busy with his studies.”
“Oh my, a college student? What school? Don’t tell me it’s S University?”
“No. He just attends an ordinary middle school.”
“…What?”
Who could have imagined it?
That Writer 927—the one currently setting the entire country on fire—was only a middle schooler.
The meeting with Executive Director Yoo Yeonjung came together at bullet speed.
“Hello. I’m Yoo Yeonjung, Executive Director of Management at Studio NMIX.”
“Ah—hello.”
After that awkward exchange of greetings, I sat down across from her.
Hmm. First impression… how to put it? Extremely polished, maybe?
Everything from her movements to her speech felt high-end.
“Before we get to the main point, would it be all right if I spoke a little more casually?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled, looking satisfied.
“The reason I arranged this meeting is that there are a few things I’d like to ask you.”
“A few things?”
“Yes. I heard from PD Na Yeongjin. You’re selling your next work to us as well?”
“I did make that promise, yes.”
“Then what about the work after that? What are your plans?”
“After that…?”
Hmm.
I hadn’t thought about that at all.