Misery and Desolation
Jegal Rok at last picked up his phone and contacted Manager Ma.
"Yes, got it! Here I am, unable to even go home, buried alive in work... and you call little old me? C'mon then, make it good news~"
"It's Jegal Rok."
"Uh, can we maybe skip the formal greeting? It pops up on the screen anyway. Why do you insist on announcing yourself every single time?"
"We've chosen a network for Strange Tales. And the male lead."
Through the receiver came the sound of Manager Ma, who had been grumbling playfully, abruptly sucking in a breath. Whether or not things had officially moved forward, she seemed to have been mulling over Strange Tales all along, because plans came spilling out of her nonstop.
"Oh my god, this is going to be SO much fun. My heart is honestly pounding. First, target demographic analysis? No need to even think about it. Teens and women in their twenties — we lock them in by default! Because it's Han Yeo-reum!"
Manager Ma rattled on about Strange Tales without pausing for breath. Jegal Rok pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. Even at minimum volume, the voice on the other end was loud.
"Ah, I want to get the poster made right now. The making-of footage and interviews — should we just drop a new one every single week? People love that stuff. It feels like connecting with the viewers. Should we set some bold ratings pledges while we're at it? And how much budget can you free up for this? I'd really like you to spend big on this one, Director."
"Yes. As much as you need."
"See, THIS is why I can never leave you? You make work fun. Where else would I ever find a boss like you!"
"Also, please send me the final version of the PTTCH Blu-ray funding page. That's all."
Before Manager Ma's cheer could ring through the receiver, Jegal Rok pressed the end-call button.
Then he shifted his weary gaze to the wide window behind him. The late nights were catching up; his eyes felt dry and gritty today as well.
Knock knock—
From beyond the door came the sound of a knock. The coffee he'd asked for. The aroma of something warm drifted in through the softly opened door, and Jegal Rok took another mouthful of caffeine, heedless of the hour.
Bzzt— Bzzt— Bzzt— Bzzt—
Even his text messages were noisy. Jegal Rok opened the funding page Manager Ma had sent him.
The instant he scrolled down, Han Yeo-reum's face filled the screen. The most advantageous card among the ones currently in his hand.
In countless dramas and films, the space allotted to a female actress had always been fixed. In a landscape littered with works where the leads were wall-to-wall men, Do Gyeo-ul and Han Yeo-reum were bound to clash again and again in the days ahead.
All for the sake of claiming a single role.
Reply: Yes. Reviewed and approved. Upload it on schedule as planned.
And Jegal Rok fervently wished for Han Yeo-reum's victory — for her to drive JC ENM's innovation ever further.
"Must be nice, Professor Geum. Your students are making it big."
Geum Bit-gang, strolling across the campus grounds, turned her head at the question thrown out of nowhere. An old professor with a smile spread across his entire face was walking beside her. She had a rough idea who the question was aimed at, and simply resumed her leisurely walk.
"What's so nice about it? They're still fledglings. Tsk."
"One of them is diligently building her acting career, and the other's debut film is already past ten million admissions, isn't it? And that's not all — one of them is a style the industry's never seen before. What do they call it these days..."
In order: Do Gyeo-ul, Myeong Je-ha, and Han Yeo-reum. In the entire history of the academy, no freshman class that had barely been enrolled a year had ever distinguished itself this spectacularly.
"Iconic."
"That's it! Iconic! That student is the one I'm most curious about. I can feel it — the world has genuinely changed from how it used to be."
"Is that so..."
"How is she in your classes? Fresh? I mean, does she have that youthful fire in her? True rough diamonds stand out even in a crowd, you know."
Geum Bit-gang thought of Han Yeo-reum. Of her performance the first time she'd seen it — the director's cut of Freshman Welcome Party.
The footsteps that roamed the stage as if it belonged to her, the presence that seized every eye with a single glance, the voice that wove itself into the very air, and above all else—
'That desperate longing, as if the performance in that very moment mattered more than anything.'
There were things you could feel without ever analyzing them. To Geum Bit-gang, Han Yeo-reum in that fleeting instant had been exactly that. So she had, in truth, been looking forward to it. She couldn't help it. It had been so long since she'd felt anything so fresh.
"Well. To me they're all the same. One chick is just another chick."
But what about the Han Yeo-reum of now? In every lecture, something about her was passive. Geum Bit-gang couldn't sense even a trace of the girl pouring her entire being into the work. Clearly capable of digging far deeper, yet she held herself back.
'Well, JC did come calling for her. Looking at it one way, maybe she made the right choice.'
She might not give her all in the classroom, but on set it could be another story entirely. The proof was that Jegal Rok had chosen Han Yeo-reum, hadn't he?
Still — she was only twenty. The age when you could throw everything away and burn it all down better than any other.
Geum Bit-gang wished Han Yeo-reum's acting wouldn't end as merely something 'sellable.'
"Oh, but you never know! With her under our Professor Geum, turning a chick into a phoenix is hardly an impossible feat, is it?"
"You think so?"
"So go on, do right by them. Stop wandering around moping with that face like you could quit any day now. It's unseemly."
Geum Bit-gang looked at the old professor. He took a slow sip of the coffee in his hand and spoke.
"I know. I know it all. We, of all people, have spent our whole lives expressing something — some thought, some feeling — reading what can be read out of this tiny patch of a face, haven't we? Eh? And your eye for it is sharp as ever."
"..."
"Well, I'm off. Next time, walk with your eyes on the sky, will you? A day this beautiful — no need to stare at the ground."
Watching the old professor's retreating back, Geum Bit-gang suddenly felt an emotion somewhere between twisted and off-kilter. It was because a student kept churning through her mind — one who clearly showed she could do better, yet had neither the effort nor the heart for it.
With all the noise everywhere, Geum Bit-gang had ended up watching Not Interested At All too — the video MBS had uploaded to InTube.
"Why is it that for me, it's always... always like this..."
The moment she saw that scene, her finger had moved on its own, clicking through Han Yeo-reum's previous work, the web drama PTTCH as well. The thumbnail had been sitting right next to it thanks to the algorithm — what could she have done?
Han Yeo-reum, shining freely within the frame.
'Yes. Han Yeo-reum.'
Geum Bit-gang had finally identified the nature of this displeasure that had sat on her chest like a stone these past days — the moment she came face to face with that expression of Han Yeo-reum's in the lecture hall.
"An actor only deserves to be called a true actor once they grasp the emotion properly before they perform."
The words burst out of her, impulsive, as if something had caught fire.
"What's the difference between misery and desolation, Han Yeo-reum?"