The Next Project (3)
“Nuna, that girl who just got caught on camera… do you know her name?”
Brilliant blonde hair and blue eyes. An exotic, beautiful face where East and West blended in perfect harmony.
…I would stake anything that she was the one who stood out and shone brightest among those members.
“Ah, I Dahye? The maknae of Hongryeon. She’s probably the same age as you, too.”
“Are you sure you’re not mistaken? She doesn’t look fifteen by any stretch.”
She looked far too mature for a middle schooler.
Hmm. And just looking at her height and proportions, she seemed better suited to modeling than idol work.
“Maybe it’s because she’s mixed? I heard her mother is from Ukraine.”
“Oh, that explains the foreign vibe I was picking up.”
Ukraine—the country said to produce more beautiful women than any other in the world.
And among them, I Dahye’s mother must have been exceptional even by those standards.
—We’ll take a short interview break.
As the program neared its final stretch, eliminated girl groups began appearing one after another, and heartwarming scenes of them parting ways while cheering each other on for future success started to play.
Then, over the ending credits, brief interview clips from every contestant rolled across the screen.
What does being an idol mean to you?
Out of nowhere, the PD tossed them that question.
And their answers…
A dream.
A goal. One I absolutely have to reach.
I guess you could call it a coming-of-age drama?
It’s like a magic word that makes your heart pound just hearing it.
Each answer burst out differently, as if expressing their own unique personalities.
And then, last of all, came I Dahye’s reply.
Someone who can be a comfort to people who are struggling?
The moment those words left her lips, I instinctively smiled.
“Uh… little brother? This is a really moving scene, you know?”
“I know. I just had a fun idea.”
“A fun idea?”
Yeah.
A really fun idea.
Life really is all about timing.
Just like the day I happened to run into Seol Soyoung at that café, it was pure luck that Nuna had been watching Choice 30 in the living room today.
I hurried back to my room and fired off a text to Seol Soyoung.
Truthfully, I already knew the answer to that question.
She was good at everything, so of course she could sing. Some people even claimed she would have been more successful as a singer than an actress.
Just as expected.
Even she seemed to know her singing ability wasn’t half bad.
Instant reply.
That was it.
The one thing Seol Soyoung couldn’t do was dance.
She was a hopeless dancer by design—great at sports, yet somehow completely talentless when it came to choreography. A strange little setting quirk.
It was something she herself knew better than anyone, and her mother and father took it as simple fact as well.
So…
Even better, really…
Seeing the question marks packed with confusion from Seol Soyoung made me snicker.
I would need to talk things over with PD Na and Director Park Yongo soon enough.
About my next project.
At the same time, a thought struck me—this next work might just be able to solve the worry Soyoung was carrying.
And that night…
I laid out the structure for the next script.
The keywords were dreams, growth, and hope.
The title, carrying the meaning of overcoming hardship and soaring high…
Yeah.
This felt right.
A few days later, after finishing the midsection of Fly High, I hurried over to Studio NMIX headquarters.
Ordinarily I would have preferred to write all the way through the ending, but Soyoung and I were working against a limited clock.
To finish the drama on schedule, we needed to wrap casting quickly and move into filming.
The latter half of the story could wait until then without falling behind. The ending was already locked in my head, after all.
When I stepped into the director’s office, Director Park Yongo and PD Na Yeongjin welcomed me.
“I’d like to get straight to the point.”
“Regarding the next project, I take it?”
“Yes. You both finished the script I sent yesterday, right?”
The two men seated across from me nodded.
“What did you think?”
“Haha! Who am I to dare evaluate Writer-nim’s scripts? One thing’s certain—this one is another absolute smash.”
Fortunately, Director Park Yongo laughed heartily, clearly pleased with the material.
In contrast, the expression on PD Na Yeongjin beside him was far less cheerful.
“PD Na, you didn’t like it much?”
“Not at all. The script itself was perfect, exactly as expected. The problem is that realizing the story Writer 927 has envisioned comes with more complications than anticipated.”
“Hmm… for example?”
“First, the story is fundamentally tied to music. The issue is that we don’t have anyone on our side with that level of specialized musical expertise. On top of that, the actors would be forced to deliver strong dancing and singing skills—that’s another major problem.”
Actors became actors because they could act, not because they could dance and sing, right?
I knew that much myself.
But for this particular work, dancing and singing mattered more than acting ability.
Of course, strong acting on top of that would be the icing on the cake, but the priority still had to be dance and vocal skill.
“Exactly. So there’s no real need to cast actors for this project.”
“…Excuse me?”
PD Na tilted his head, looking thoroughly confused.
My thinking went like this.
If the latter skills took priority over acting, why bother hiring expensive actors?
In that case…
“We just cast idols who excel at dancing and singing instead of actors.”
“Y-you’re saying you want to use idols in a drama?!”
Director Park Yongo’s eyes flew wide open at my words.
What, was that really so shocking?
Casting idols in dramas had been relatively common in my previous life.
“Is there a problem?”
“Writer-nim! There has never once been a case of an idol appearing in a drama!”
Oh. For real?
I genuinely hadn’t known that.
But why?
“Of course people would tear us apart for cutting casting costs by dumping kids who don’t know the first letter of ‘acting’ into the roles! How are we supposed to film a drama with people whose entire specialty is singing and dancing?!”
Director Park Yongo snapped, thoroughly worked up.
Well… I don’t know about that.
They’d probably act just fine, wouldn’t they?
Idols freely controlled their expressions and gestures on stage.
Didn’t that itself fall under the category of acting?
Anyway.
“Director. Was everything completely problem-free back when we did Welcome to Cafe Violet?”
“That’s…”
“It absolutely wasn’t. There was plenty of talk during Soyoung-ssi’s casting stage, wasn’t there? And what was the result?”
I didn’t even need to hear the answer.
Even a kid running around a playground would call it a massive success.
“So how about trusting my choice one more time?”
“Urgh…”
Director Park Yongo crossed his arms, sinking into serious contemplation.
Hmm. Sorry, but we were a bit short on time over here too.
Rrrring—
I pulled out the phone PD Na had given me and dialed someone.
Of course it wasn’t either of the two men sitting in front of me.
There was no reason to call Seol Soyoung in this situation either.
This was a call to someone whose number had only recently been added.
“Ah, Director Yoo Yeonjung. Are you free to talk right now?”
“Director Yoo Yeonjung?! Writer-nim, why are you suddenly calling my wife—”
I casually ignored the flustered Director Park Yongo and explained the situation to her.
Her answer came back instantly.
I switched to speakerphone so the other two in the room could hear every word clearly.
“Do whatever you want, Writer-nim. Those two in front of you can just do their best to support you.”
“Honey! Even so, this time we should think a little—”
“Someone who can’t even pull double-digit ratings lately, unlike a certain benefactor, has an awful lot to say. Do I need to list every single project you’ve tanked one by one?”
“Haha! Writer-nim, what should we help with first?”
As expected.
When it came to persuading Director Park Yongo, this person really was the best, just as I’d anticipated.
Now the only one left…
“You’re fine with this too, PD Na?”
“With both directors saying that, what can a mere PD like me do? Since it’s come to this, I suppose I’ll just dive in with a cheerful heart.”
“Great.”
“However, I do have one question. Even if we replace the actors with idols, how do you plan to solve the problem that Studio NMIX currently has no specialist with a broad musical spectrum?”
“Ah, I’ve got a good idea about that.”
If things went well, it was an excellent idea that could resolve even the casting stage in one stroke.
“PD Na, please set up a meeting with the CEO of JYB Entertainment as soon as possible.”
“The CEO of JYB Entertainment… you mean CEO Baek Junyeong?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Hold on! The part that confuses me is actually the meeting itself. You’re planning to meet CEO Baek Junyeong in person?”
“Well… I’m already forcing this drama production through with my own stubbornness, so I should at least handle that much. And things will move faster if I step in myself.”
“True… Writer 927’s name carries enormous weight right now.”
As PD Na said, it was a little embarrassing, but my current name value—the name value of Writer 927—held an abnormally high worth.
And I fully intended to make active use of that fact.