The Aftermath (1)
Lee Ye-rin.
There was one sad truth about her.
In the past, she had once auditioned for Forest of Crime.
Ha Il-kwon, Kim Eun-bi, Lee Young-min.
Those three names alone carried serious weight. Who wouldn't want to be part of this production?
Ye-rin had wanted in too, of course — and in the end, she was rejected. She couldn't land a single role. Lead, supporting, none of it.
And going in as an extra? Well, her pride as an actress with a decent measure of fame simply wouldn't allow it. Maybe if it were a special cameo appearance, things might have been different.
Among all those roles, the one that stuck with her most was the killer known as X — a murderer with no set gender, no set name.
The main villain of Part One. A psychopath.
The audition for that role had been a little unusual.
"I want to see acting where the madness, as written in the script, is itself brought under control."
Those were the exact words.
Spoken by whom? By Kim Eun-bi, the writer who had churned out hit after hit.
What on earth is that supposed to mean?
Does she even know what she's saying right now?
What is madness, after all?
It means being crazy, plain and simple.
Then what is control?
Where do you even begin.
Wasn't the very idea of madness being controlled fundamentally nonsensical? Ye-rin had genuinely wondered how those two words could coexist.
If your craziness is under control, doesn't that just make you 'good at anger management'?
She conveyed exactly that opinion at the audition, too.
And the answer that came back:
"There seems to be a slight misunderstanding. What I mean precisely is the feeling of an emotional switch being flipped off. The intense madness has to vanish in an instant."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
And that was how she walked out of the audition room.
No — gave up would be the more accurate word.
What are emotions, really?
Emotions are contagious.
And they're addictive.
Once you start sinking into the swamp of a feeling, it's terribly hard to claw your way out.
Even actors called geniuses.
Even seasoned veterans with decades of craft behind them could not consider themselves exceptions to that rule.
That was why she — and every other actor — gave up on Killer X.
Killer X.
It was a broken character.
Her insight in the industry wasn't all that long yet, but that was her diagnosis.
If someone were to take on the character of Lee Eun-ju, only one of three outcomes was possible.
First: the possibility of an actor who delivers some truly absurd, monster-level performance.
Honestly, that one was — well, extremely far-fetched.
Then, second: the person really is Lee Eun-ju.
It was only a hypothesis, a thought experiment at best. Something that could exist purely in the realm of speculation.
Which was exactly why this hypothesis must never, ever come true.
Who on earth would be happy about a crazed psychopathic murderer walking among us?
And finally, third: a compromise in the end. Rewriting Killer X's character entirely.
As far as Ye-rin could see, the correct answer was the third.
The production announcement for Forest of Crime had come last summer.
For one reason or another, production kept slipping and slipping. The main cause, as the articles had reported, was the casting difficulties — and the auditions that followed in their wake.
By the time Ye-rin auditioned, the only role left was X.
That a single character could delay an entire production this badly didn't sit right with her, honestly, but with names that big attached to the production team, the investors apparently hadn't kicked up too much of a fuss either.
So what was the result?
The trailer had turned out pretty well, all things considered, but hmm...
The rumor making the rounds was that some complete rookie had snatched the role.
A rookie. Seriously?
By that point, the investors' patience had probably hit rock bottom. Unable to land a proper actor, the production must have scrambled to squeeze the shoot into the schedule.
Which meant she had been lucky.
After failing the Forest of Crime audition, she had immediately joined a different drama.
Originally, Forest of Crime was supposed to finish airing before her drama even began. But circumstances had twisted in the strangest way, and the two shows ended up facing off in direct competition.
And once you're in a competition, naturally you want to win. That's just human nature.
A good-faith rivalry? A clash of heavyweights?
Don't need it.
She had always wanted an overwhelming victory.
The thrill only came from reigning above, watching the people you'd crushed beneath your feet.
"They were simply too greedy."
All that remained now was to wait for the results.
For all practical purposes, the fight was already won.
Tonight.
She would pour herself a glass of champagne and watch the premiere of her own drama.
The broadcaster's ratings analysis room.
The production staff and data analysts had all gathered in one place, and the air was thick with tension.
Several monitors glowed with bright light, and social media feeds updated in real time on the side screens.
"Broadcast starting now!"
"Okay! Keep the status reports coming!"
"Yes, sir!"
With PD Lee Young-min at the helm, the broadcast monitoring began.
The noise of a bleak, grimy city bled through the speakers.
A slow exhale—
Choi Jin-cheol appeared on screen, breathing out cigarette smoke.
"What's the social media situation?"
"Nothing significant yet, sir."
And so ten minutes passed, tension flowing quietly through both the drama and the control room alike.
"Real-time ratings are in!"
The data analyst pointed at a monitor.
"What are we at?"
"6.5 percent currently!"
A number that was hard to call impressive. And given the caliber of everyone attached to the project, it was a figure that could fairly be described as a crisis.
"Are we really going to be okay...? Shouldn't we start promoting right now, at least...?"
A marketing team member beside him said, worry creeping into her voice.
"It's fine. We're actually tracking slightly above the range we projected. And as I mentioned in the meeting, we go on the offensive starting from episode four."
Lee Young-min reassured the marketing staffer and returned to his monitoring.
"Ratings still climbing! We've passed 7 percent!"
The main content of episode one was, in essence, a prologue — a string of arrests of petty criminals while the detectives chased leads on the serial killer.
There wasn't much plot to speak of.
It was an episode designed to show off the production team's raw physicality — covering everything through sheer direction and acting alone.
"Whoa — social media reactions are suddenly spiking!!"
A faint smile—
The section they had been waiting for was approaching.
A gemstone, discovered by pure chance.
The scene where the production lovingly wrapped it up and unveiled it to the world.
"Good! What are the ratings!?"
Lee Young-min's voice climbed a full register.
"Just — one moment, sir! It's shooting up!"
The graph had swung into a steep, sudden upward curve, making any instantaneous number meaningless.
"It's fine. We'll tally everything once it ends."
"Yes, sir!"
More time slipped by, and then—
Episode one ended.
"Average viewership!! 10.2 percent!! And the peak instantaneous rating!!"
!!!
All kinds of breaking reports were flooding in.
The main subject, of course, was the two dramas that had just finished airing — and the hottest topic of them all was Gil Ara, who had appeared for all of three minutes.
The drama communities were burning hot because of it.
The second link led to Insta.
citrine_salon_cheongdam
Followers: 103,000
(Photo) Model: Gil Ara
A post uploaded just moments ago.
Until now, her name couldn't be revealed under the terms of the contract — but with the first drama now broadcast and her official debut underway, the salon was finally free to put her name on it.
Jeong Yeo-un had been quick on his feet, registering Ara's official profile at once.
"Jeong Yeo-un is as sharp as ever, I see."
"Where on earth did he dig her up? Impressive."
As a result, the various major agencies could only lament their loss.
Judging her acting was impossible off a three-minute appearance — but her looks alone were enough of a performance to make a living in this business.
In the entertainment world, beauty is plausibility.
"Hmph. A shame, but nothing to be done about it."
But then again, who were they?
Major agencies.
They had more signed celebrities than they knew what to do with already. Singers and actors they'd painstakingly nurtured one by one — or fully polished stars, ready-made.
They already owned countless jewels, and so their attention turned elsewhere in an instant.
After that, screenshots of the entrance scenes of the various dramas' actors were being clipped and circulated all over the communities.
Two dramas — and amid all the sky-high attention on their actors, the next day arrived.
"Director!! The reservation lines are blowing up!!!"
Citrin Salon had been bustling since the early morning.
"Kheheheheheh..."
Gang Ji-yeon let out an unsettling laugh.
"Director?"
A receptionist went to find Gang Ji-yeon.
And what she witnessed was Gang Ji-yeon giggling as she stared down at the revenue sheet.
"Heh heh heh heh heh..."
At that sight, the receptionist quietly turned on her heel and left.
Yikes. Terrifying.
"Heh heh heh heh..."
Gang Ji-yeon looked up at Gil Ara's poster.
"She'll be visiting soon enough."
She was planning to make Ara yet another offer.
"Do hurry, dear. Heh heh heh..."
.
.
.
Even now, it was nothing but good press for Ara — and then, a single post appeared.