Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Web Drama Team Formation
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In my previous life, aside from practicing lines and analyzing scripts, there was one habit that skyrocketed my skills.
Before heading to school, I'd slip out to a café near home in the mornings. While slowly savoring the Mexican panini I'd ordered for lunch, I'd turn my eyes to the people around me.
It wasn't just idle people-watching. Sure, that might be relaxing, but it did nothing to sharpen me as an actor.
I had my own systematic routine. First, I'd pick a concept and scan for someone who fit.
The guy who looked like he'd lived the roughest life in the room. The woman who seemed the most professionally successful.
The one who appeared happier than anyone on earth. Then I'd observe them up close.
From that, I'd pick up mannerisms, quirks, speech patterns, and word choices to flesh out the fine details of my roles.
Today, too, I kept at it for about an hour. It felt like I'd slipped right back into those pre-regression days, every nerve tuned to pure observation.
Bzzz.
A notification buzzed in.
[Choi Min-jun: Wanna grab lunch together?]
I'd already eaten, so I fired off a polite no.
Bzzz.
The phone vibrated again.
[Choi Min-jun: Okay~. Don't be late for the afternoon lecture, yeah?]
Even in the second week of the semester, some classes were already underway. This was a required sophomore course, so naturally, it overlapped with Choi Min-jun again.
'Not just him—pretty much all the sophomores take it.'
The Film Department had courses with continuity spanning multiple semesters.
For instance, Acting 1: Improvisation and Expression Techniques led all the way to Acting 7: Camera Acting.
And today's opener, Web Drama Production and Practice, fit the bill. If I left now, I'd make it just in time, so I stood and left the café.
A standard lecture hall, like in any other department. Up front sat an electronic podium rigged for projectors, mics, and more.
Both professors and students used it for presentations. There was a whiteboard and a screen that rolled up and down at the touch of a button. But the real perk?
'No all-in-one desk-torture-devices, obviously.'
Gen ed classrooms mostly featured those monstrosities where the chair and desk were fused into one frame.
This class brought together directing and acting majors. Even though some faces were new today, my regression made most of them familiar.
I didn't greet anyone first. No sense making them think I was delusional about knowing them and stirring up awkwardness.
If someone approached me or our eyes locked a bit too long, I'd toss out a casual hello.
Of course...
Rumble rumble.
"Isn't that the guy acting in a grad project?"
"Heard he has an older sister graduating."
"Whoa, what's that about? A student who hasn't even graduated yet throwing his weight around for a spot??"
"Nepotism like that's... straight-up third-rate, right?"
Word had spread about my sister's film, and most were whispering busily. One guy in particular was fired up the most.
"He nailed that one presentation and now he's got a big head. As if he's some short film star."
Kim Jin-su, the same punk who'd picked a fight during Scene Acting.
At my age back then, even bird crap flying by would've been entertaining, so I let it slide.
"Yoo Ha-jin?"
Then I bumped into a guy. Round face, curly hair.
He could've come off soft, but something about him felt off-putting. His name: An Mu-gwon.
'Of all the faces I tried to forget, here comes another.'
This jerk was cut from the same cloth as Kim Jin-su. An Mu-gwon, directing major, had spent our school years grinding me down without mercy.
—Can't you just drop out quietly on your own? Pretty please~.
His mom or dad was a big-shot CP at a major production company, I recalled. Talented enough, he went on to major success later.
'Eh, long time no see.'
I greeted him.
"Hey, what's up. Back from leave this semester?"
"Hah, no shame? What, think sucking up now means I'll hook you up with a project later?"
Still an appetite-killer, as always.
"Nah, no need. But ignoring someone makes you look like a total asshole."
Twitch.
I hadn't meant to poke, but a vein like a king earthworm bulged on his forehead.
"You talking to me?"
"Who knows."
I shrugged and headed to an empty seat to unpack.
"Hey, lid."
Lately, I'd been pulling all-nighters, barely scraping by on sandwiches. Done indulging this pest.
"You're not even in high school anymore—why's your mentality so fragile? You get offended by everything; how do you plan to survive this harsh world? Even high schoolers have thicker skin these days~."
"W-what!?"
What can I say—less a scolding, more loving advice from a life senior.
Anyway, he seemed thrown by this new me, who spat out exactly what I thought, unlike my past self.
'Back then, I bent over backward thinking they'd be connections later. Got intimidated by their talent, too.'
No interest in networking now. Film Department prodigies or whatever—didn't matter.
Unless they were business or media comm aces.
'Might share job leads or cert prep tips.'
Anyway, the guy glitched out hard, like a lagging game.
"Professor's coming—gonna keep at it?"
Choi Min-jun nodded toward the door, and the pest shuddered like a café pager before slinking back to his seat.
Soon the lecture began. A stern-looking middle-aged prof with gold-rimmed glasses spoke up.
'Professor Do Sang-jae—scriptwriter who snagged a screenplay award for Flight to the Stars, right?'
And one of the judges for my sister's grad film. We had a loose connection.
Back when I felt lost, his words were my compass.
—No student has ever worked as hard as you since I started teaching. Effort is a talent. You've got one no one else has—you'll make it. Don't worry.
That encouragement from a field veteran meant the world. I cherished it, but in the end, all it proved was he was wrong.
A bitter aftertaste lingered. No resentment, though.
Can't blame a prof for not telling a student they're doomed. My fault for being naive. I got it now.
"As stated in the syllabus, Web Drama Production and Practice covers basics and planning in the first semester, then production and contest submission in the second—as one continuous process. Midterms will be replaced by progress presentations."
Practical class, so grades hinged on output. The prof continued.
"We'll submit to the Korea Creative Content Agency's web drama contest. It's tied to broadcast—winners go up on the official MBS YouTube channel."
Old memories surfaced. A J University alum ran that channel, I think.
'Brand new now, but later it replaced one-off drama specials as a rookie gateway.'
They took finished videos, so actors, directors, writers, crew—all got real credits. Huge for building careers.
Other students' eyes blazed with passion at the fieldwork shot. Kim Jin-su and An Mu-gwon included.
For me, just a box-ticking course for the grade... but there was a hitch.
"Projects like this test self-awareness of strengths and weaknesses.
Supplement weaknesses, leverage strengths by recruiting synergistic teammates—that ability's graded too.
So, form your teams freely starting now."
I squeezed my eyes shut. Solid logic, sure.
'Problem is, for guys like me, it's hell.'
Past life, no one picked me—ended up as the unwanted side dish.
Minimal role, naturally. And now, my rep was even worse post-regression.
"That senior's kinda..."
"Tch, who wants to team with him."
Already infamous for crap skills, now rumors of shady nepotism in sis's film.
'This is bad... Team contrib evals at semester end hit grades hard...!
Even double-majoring, I need decent Film GPA for any job...!'
I stood isolated, like a rock smack in the middle of a river current.
An Mu-gwon had tried messing with Yoo Ha-jin before class—first time in ages—and got burned.
He'd aced his way into J University's Film Department directing track, fielding love calls from tons of students.
His rep reached underclassmen; even they clamored.
"Senior An Mu-gwon, right~?"
"Team with us~!"
"Hyung, remember drinks after the department event?"
Yoo Ha-jin, meanwhile, stood blankly like a wind-sculpted stone on a seaside cliff.
'Tsk tsk. No talent? At least be nice. Army made him cocky for no reason.'
Anyway, An Mu-gwon had backups in mind.
First: Kim Jin-su.
"Jin-su, you know this project's big, right?"
"Web drama or not, MBS link makes it huge."
Next needed no pitch. They nodded, eyes shifting to one girl.
'Snag Seo A-ra too...'
'We'll crush this class!!'
Seo A-ra: genius unknown only outside her year, or the whole Film Department. Tons chased her, but...
"Excuse me."
"Coming through."
Directing #1 and Acting #2 passed; crowd parted.
But their target Seo A-ra...
"Yoo Ha-jin."
"What business you got with me."
"No team yet?"
"As you see."
"Do this web drama project with me."
"With... me?"
Nod nod.
Onlookers glued to her moves gasped.
Slam.
Kim Jin-su and An Mu-gwon gawked, jaws on the floor.
Others buzzed.
"Why's Senior Seo A-ra teaming with him??"
"Must just be asking something~ Not really teaming."
"She straight-up said 'let's do it together' tho...??"
Yoo Ha-jin just shrugged like he'd seen it all.
"Fine by me... you sure?"
An Mu-gwon clenched his fists.
'Seo A-ra offers, and he says 'fine by me'?? Lid, you lost it??'
Nails dug into skin. Then another reject sidled up.
"Wh-what? Why's she here?"
Choi Min-jun eyed the intimidating figure warily.
Yoo Ha-jin replied flatly.
"Said she'll team up. You in?"
"Planned to anyway. But... you two tight?"
Awkward with her there, so Yoo Ha-jin deflected.
"Eh, so-so?"
"So-so?"
Seo A-ra shot a puzzled look.
"Yoo Ha-jin, you close with Choi Min-jun?"
Yoo Ha-jin again, deadpan.
"So-so?"
"So-so? Geez, way to hurt my feelings..."
Seo A-ra and Choi Min-jun eyed each other, baffled by his ties to Yoo Ha-jin.
#1 and dead last, reunited. Scene Acting déjà vu chilled Kim Jin-su's spine.
'This pattern...'
No way he'd pull another insane performance? Nah, luck last time.
Whatever—he wasn't even on radar.
Tap tap tap.
"Seo A-ra."
Directing #1 An Mu-gwon planted himself before Yoo Ha-jin's crew.